Last Supper

And it came to pass that they were having a glass or two of vino.

Jesus looked but only saw 11 disciples. Yet in the place of Judas was a six pack of Guinness.

“What is that?”

“That´s Judas´Carry out” replied James.

“Will he be along later?”

“I doubt it,” said Thomas.

“What about some music? Peter you are the Rock star. Play some heavy metal.”

And Lo, Peter did play some Nine Inch Nails.

“Why are you dressed in all of those dark clothes?” asked Jesus.

“I thought it was a Black Sabbath,” said Mathew, Mark, Luke and John.

It was a great night though later on Peter let himself down a bit; you should never wait up for the cock.

And in the morning, Jesus Swept.

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My right foot

She who must not be mentioned says she must not be mentioned.

So I will talk about my right foot.


Karate and me, March 2017


It is still there, despite an attempt many years ago by a taxi driver, who due to lack of sleep and lack of intelligence, decided to drive his taxi through my motorcycle. This would have been fine save for the fact that I was astride said motorcycle at the time. Fortunately for me I was actually riding at the speed limit at the time, a rare event in those days. So in the collision I was only travelling at 30mph, a fact which, the investigating Police Officer eventually told, probably saved my life.

As a Physicist I understand the conservation of momentum. So motorcycle and rider moving at 30 mph becomes instantly motorcycle stopped then much of the momentum is transferred to the rider. This means the rider moves forward at a speed greater than 30 mph. Or he would do if his right leg was not between now stationary motorcycle and taxi!

I still remember flying forward over the bonnet, flipping in the air and landing with a sickening thud on the road. Strangely enough I landed in what First Aiders call ´the recovery position´. Except for one problem.

My right foot was next to my left knee!

Yes folks, my right leg had developed an extra joint, now bent in half mid shin.

Compound fracture right tibia and fibula, said my hospital notes.

“Are you alright?” as the taxi driver as he stepped out of his cab.

“Do I feckin well look alright?” I asked in a mixture of pain and anger.

The paramedics scraped me off the floor and took me to hospital where I spent six weeks without recovery. For the next 5 months I was back and forth to hospital for check-ups and advice.

But my break was not healing.

So my consultant brought me in.

“We need to try a bone graft,” he explained. “We take some slivers of bone from your left hip and put them into the break site so they will start to generate bone growth. This is our last option.”

“What if it doesn´t work?”

“We will have to amputate.”

Not the kind of thing you want to hear at 25, or at any age really.

It worked. 


PADI in Qatar


I still have my right foot though it doesn’t work properly. It droops when I get tired, aches in the November rain, and trips me up on pavements sometimes.


soldier! (2)

Training at Brecon, 2008


Despite that I went on to achieve Brown belt in Karate, Sailing coach, Army Cadet Officer, Climbing Instructor, writer, passed my PADI Open water scuba diving course and travelled much of the world. One long term after effect is that I can put stress into context – when you have a near death experience losing luggage on a flight becomes irrelevant.


So my right foot and no pictures of paintings.


I´m doing well.


As to my left foot..

That was a movie about Christy Brown, played by Daniel Day Lewis. Released in 1989.


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I suppose ´stupid´ is the best word

So there is this woman I know. Cute in a tall sort of way.

I´m not sure if you call her east European as she is from Belarus which apparently is still part of Russia. I never quite got a grip of the Decline and Fall of the Soviet Empire.

Anyway, she´s nice. We met at a few social functions, I got her number, we chatted online.

So I invited her to a few social events and a coffee!!! Always too busy – yes I get it. I´m an old codger and so I frighten 30 somethings! Actually not true in China or Kazakhstan.

Continue Mr M!

So I put together an impromptu BBQ at mine tomorrow night. Of course I sent her an invite.


“I must be a good girl this weekend. Have an important exam next week”

Then round about midnight she changes her profile pic to one at a nightclub…


So I will feck off!!!


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Women, women, women and women!

So Anna is angry at me for wanting to promote her Art work through my Twitter and Facebook accounts. I would normally drop one of her pictures in here but I will give it a miss this time. I don´t get it!  Creative people who want to commercialise their work need publicity – yes?


Talking of which

Korlan has just celebrated her birthday by referring to me as her dearest friend! We went out a few times when I lived in Kazakhstan. Now she is living and working in Israel. My sister used to be married to a guy from Palestine so I know the plight of the people of the Holy Land very well. If I say I despise the way the Israelis treat Palestinians then I am berated as anti-semitic. This is just bollocks. I am anti-fascist. I hate it when anybody uses their Religious beliefs to bully and terrorise, whether it is Christian Crusades and slaughter of Native Americans, Islamic State or Zionists. All bastards as far as I am concerned.

Marjo is sweet and using me as her personal taxi service. Which is fine because she is also introducing me to other people. I will finally get round to purchasing the BBQ set I´ve been planning and get some friends round tomorrow.

Then again Daisy Daffoldil has disappeared. I was there when she let the bottom drop out of her world. Now she appears to have taken time out of reality.

Which takes me back to an interview I had four years ago in Qatar. The new Head of the Secondary school decided she wanted to really get to know her new colleagues. SO she organised a personal interview for each of us, asking us all the same questions of course..

She went for the classic three strngths and three weaknesses question – I´m sure you´ve all heard it!

Being divorced twice and having many failed relationships I couldn´t resist answering my number 1 weakness,

“I´m not very good when it comes to picking women!”

She was not amused.

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Friends, stupidity, the beach, boobs and bums

Today I got stuck on a couple of paragraphs, attempting to explain the delights of floating down the River Thyme on a barge. I had the two Elf´s, Mad Tom of Bedlam, Mad Magdalene and Fairy Hanny on the barge of Mr. O´Nighon. I just couldn´t make the text flow like I saw the river flow.

So I contacted my good friend  Anna in Kazakhstan. We chatted about the differences between men and women, as backed by a series of Scientific studies. Anna is an incredible artist.


It appears women can discern colours better, are more religious, more likely to give to charity and talk more than men.

What might we say to Sherlock at this point?

It worked.

I soon had my team heading on through their latest adventure on Uranus, the new quest being to find the Witch who is playing with the Space-Time continuum and causing havoc for Banshees in Liverpool and a coach load of Essex girls intent on a good night out.

The jokes started coming thick and fast with three-legged frogs and chickens, a rock that looks like a Jailhouse (that´s what happens when Elf´s speak Elvis) and a posh scouser in Hlither Poler.

Of course I needed euphemisms for boobs and bums – it´s the way I write, right?


Wahwahs was a new one on me!

So after 6 hours of chatting and writing I decided to head to the beach and read for a bit.

So I hit the beach at 4pm on a hot day, take off my flip-flops and start crossing the sand toward the water. It´s further than it looks and my feet began to burn…

Ok so yeas a long time ago I did gain a B.Sc. in Physics so I should know about conduction, convection and radiation of heat.

But feck me I burnt the souls of my feet.

Going back to the earlier conversation with Anna about differences between men and women… no way would I stop and put my flip-flops back on.

More Science to show men are stupid.


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Cars, Plums and Grapes

It´s amazing what a trip to the shops can do.

I live 10 minutes walk from a Supermarket in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria. Sometimes I drive there though that usually takes longer than 10 minutes because of the one way system and traffic lights. SO today I walked there as I only needed a few items.

On the way I was reminded how easily life can change in an instant. Ok so the roads are busy but most of the crossings are controlled by lights and it is easy to see traffic approaching.

One of the side roads, a rat run between the two one way streets, is on my route. It has a well marked crossing and a feck off big sign saying STOP!

As I walked across the crossing I saw a grey car coming toward me. No problem, I thought, he is a long way back and I´m quite visible – bright afternoon and I´m wearing a yellow top.

But he didn´t see me.. not until the last minute.

I had visions of another long hospital stay with a broken leg or two, just like the time the idiot in a taxi knocked me off my motorcycle.

He stopped.

About 25cm from me.

I think I farted.

But that was all.

People watching seemed to be more shocked than I was. But then I am a driver too and I know how easy it is to just momentarily lose concentration. I bet the driver is having nightmares about what almost happened. Of course the Police would throw the book at him, and rightly so, knocking someone down on a zebra crossing.

I walked on to the supermarket, merely giving the driver a minor admonishing wave.

Then I just can´t help laughing when I get into a store and see big juicy Purple Plums for sale. And nice grapes from Chile.

It´s the knob and plop humour, Grapes and Plums.

Enough to make you almost forget that a ton of hot grey metal almost took you out five minutes ago.

How quickly life can change.

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Unpacking the moving van.

In the portal horizontal split, here on the inside, outside seems so far away.

Am I grey or am I blue?

Someone turned the lights on

Red, Green and Yellow-

Poor rockers waiting for the summertime blues.

Quartet of happiness, my complete family

Purchased with love and three packets of gum.


One came down from the stage, leaving my three to survive.

Mad woman wailing with her Tambourine!



The trio played on as my ship sank in its preordained bottle.

Then the bass player, slicked back and Sun glassed,

Packed up and left,

Taking just three steps to heaven.


The remaining duo, content by Canteras beach,

(Though not content with the content;)

He became self-indulgent

Knocking himself out with platitudes and attitudes.

Did you see her attack my Fedora?


It dogged him.

So the guitarist left, citing musical differences

And the need for organic crisps and a visit to Rome.

So I stood alone on the stage – Keyboard master,

Just me and my organ of change, wallowing in self-pity.


For a while happiness flowed without responsibility,

Stark urban contrast.

So cute, she said, just like me.


Feeling alone in the feckity feck of a world.

Gaia they don’t want me.

Not needed:



What´s freedom babe?


I decided to end the concert

Wondered if anyone would notice-

They were all talking over my music anyway;

So I stopped playing.


They waxed lyrical for two days,

Then they said

¨where has the flower gone? ¨

The bottle was empty; the cupboard was bare.


Now I sit in my chair

And always I stare

At the box the lies by the fire;

A man with no hair

Is talking in there

And now I can see she´s a liar.

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