The world is not un oeuf

23 October 2005
Whenever I go on holiday to France, I delight in repeating the same joke each day.
In answer to: 'How many eggs do you want?' I reply: 'One egg is un oeuf.'
Creases me up every time. Or greases me up.
Of course, France has hidden eggs everywhere. Take Eggs-en-Provance, for example.
Somebody came up to me yesterday and said that my blogs are weird. He then turned green and evaporated.
I' talking drivel again. I guess I'm too busy looking for specks on other people's eyes and can't see the blog in my own.
Okay, blog, blog, blog, blog, blog, blog. Best blog, best blog, best blog, best blog.
What was that about? Well, it will increase the search engine rank of this page to 120079663465th, which is definitely progress.
Someone doing a search for 'blog' would come to this page if they scrolled the search result for three and a half years. Not particularly funny, until you consider the purpose of this blog (besides entertaining you, of course) is to attract traffic to the site. I might as well climb the hill behind my house (which is looking lovely at the moment with the heather a much brighter purple than I've ever seen it, for some reason, must be the drugs). Even the midges were not pestering me, when I was out a moment ago. Lovely. The sheep always make me laugh. They stand and stare, in case you represent a threat. I have been experimenting with different sounds to terrify them. The sound of a small yappy dog appears to make them run away the fastest, rather than the deeper bark of a larger dog. Strange. Although I know that the Queen likes to walk her corgies in the hills. The grouse, of course, give you the fright of your life if you disturb them by walking by. They rise from their (ground) nests in the heather, making their distinctive cack, cack, cack, distress call as they fly away. The dear are much more numerous than they used to be but it would be very unlucky if a grouse rose from the heather only to fly straight into a grazing dear to break its neck. Yes, the dear can be killed by a grouse in this way, particularly as some of the grouse have taken to wearing spiked helmets. Why? Because they are a fashion-conscious species and they've seen the sheep. The sheep, you see, have started wearing them to protect themselves from the small yappy dogs they keep hearing. You can't pull the wool over their eyes.
Now go away and annoy someone else, I've had enough of your attitude to this blog.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Kettles, Flora and Buzzards

9 October 2005
A relative died fairly recently and I have been clearing his home. He was a delightful fellow, but never threw anything out, making the clearance a lengthy process. The men at the Council rubbish tip on my 21st trip to their facility (yes, it was the 21st - I'm not exaggerating) asked me if I was clearing a house.
Perhaps they couldn't believe that one house clearance would yield twenty burned out kettles. (Okay, I am exagerrating, it was only eight).
I found some interesting old books, including an ancient biography of Flora McDonald who assisted Bonnie Prince Charlie to escape after his failed attempt to reclaim the Throne in the mid 18th century. The Prince remains a romantic hero in my country's history and Flora is seen as an amazingly resourceful and brave woman. This account suggests that Flora saved the Prince's life several times during the escape to Skye. This was basically done by giving him very sound advice and insisting that he take it. He, for example, wished to take a companion with them who would have exposed his wherabouts. He also wished to conceal a pistol under his petticoat (he was disguised as Flora's spinstress) which she also refused. This prevented his cover from being blown when they were later shot at by enemy guards.
Buzzards are very prevalent around my area. Whenever you see a large bird, it's typically a buzzard. They have distinctive white lining to the under-side of their wings, which easily distinguishes them from other large birds in the area such as owls, falcons, eagles or ospreys. Most people would agree that it's easy to recognise a buzzard when you see one. Indeed, as there is generally no part of them missing, they are complete buzzards. Keep a look out yourself, I'm sure you'll find one or two complete buzzards near you.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

More from the White House

3 October 2005
More from the interview with the President:
White House Newsletter (WHN): So why's it called the Oval Office?
Pres: No idea. Kinda cute name, I guess.
WHN: Could it have something to do with the shape of the room?
Pres: It is kinda shaped like a circle that's been squashed down - like Sharon sat on it.
WHN: Is it shaped like that so the President never feels cornered?
Pres: That's an interesting question. But I'm not one to look back, so I'd never know if there was a coroner behind me or not. I only look in one direction: up.
WHN: What do you drive?
Pres: One of these of SoBs. I like the noise the engine makes. Kinda cute.
WHN: You say 'kinda cute' a lot.
Pres: No, the idiot who writes this invented it for me. I hate it. Kinda cute. Argh!!
WHN: Surely you're used to other people writing what you say.
Pres: That's not very nice. I've a good mind to report you to someone in a position of power. Like Mr Blair.
WHN: Mr Blair has a position of power?
Pres: Yeah, creases me up too.
WHN: You're very funny, Sir.
Pres: Not too funny. Just a bit funny. Can't have the President being too funny, can we? It's a serious business trying to run a country and when I try, I shouldn't be too funny.
WHN: A little funniness is acceptable?
Pres: Probably not. Strike that.
WHN: Next question. If you had 200 billion dollars to spend on something you shouldn't, what would you do.
Pres: That's too easy. Give me another question.
WHN: How would you claw back that investment to the benefit of America?
Pres: That's too easy too.
WHN: Why do so many people think that the war in Iraq wasn't due to oil?
Pres: They have this annoying habit of believing everything they're told. The secret is not to listen. Me? I'm good at that. They should take a leaf out of my tree.
WHN: So it was about oil.
Pres: No, of course not. It was to get me re-elected.
WHN: Who is your favourite writer?
Pres: Elspeth Hemmingway. Best Amercian writer there ever was.
WHN: Can I have your comments on the new Pope?
Pres: Yeah, he's the new Pope 'cause a caretaker in the Sistine Chapel was cold and lit a fire. It's funny what you learn in my position.
WHN: Like the names of world leaders?
Pres: There's no need for that. Just because Coffey is not my cup of tea.
WHN: Do you believe the word 'United' followed by 'Nations' is a non-sequitur?
Pres: Secateurs are for pruning roses, right? I've got 'em out and I've already started reshaping the UN. I'm perfectly entitled to do that. Where d'ya think they meet, after all? It's on my turf, so I'm going to tell them what to do. Or they're out. Period.
WHN: Do the British share what Mr Annan says in his private office?
Pres: Sure, but he has learned to speak in code.
WHN: In code?
Pres: Very clever, really. He uses intelligible words, but speaks so slowly that no-one has enough time to listen to one of his sentences.
WHN: Mr President, Thank you.
Pres: A pressure to talk with you. Here, have a pretzel.
More from this interview later.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!