Saturday, 17 July 2010


"We're just waiting, and hoping for an explosion of Messi magic" the commentator said during the Argentina game during the World Cup.  I thought I'd turned over 'accidentally' to Babestation for a minute.  He really did say that too.  Notice how it's taken me a long time after the World Cup to mention football?  That's because I'm only just getting over the performances of our national team.  I've just noticed that an anagram of "it's the national team" is "the total inanimates" which describes the movement and desire perfectly. 
Hell's teeth, I must be bored/boring/inane to work something like that out.  What the fuck am I talking about?

Rambling - jewellery for sheep.
Think about it.

"So this is a birding blog, ja?"
Ja, for sure.
"Well where have you been to lately then?" I hear you cry.
Well, I'll tell you, my little imaginary chums.

Last week, a Bonaparte's Gull AND a blinking Ring-Billed Gull were found over the bridge near Far Ings on the same night (hence I couldn't drive due to lager retention) along with a load of Med and Yellow Legged Gulls!  Jesus Holy Mary!  I turned up there the next morn to find the car park absolutely rammed with birders whatsoever!  I couldn't believe this.  Bony's and Ringer at the same site at the same time and nobody showed up.
I had a good go at the Gulls on Chowder Ness but only found 2 adult Meds amongst the common fodder.  Not good! 

I tried again....wait for it....two days later and guess what?  Well, I'm pretty sure that I had the Ringer off Far Ings from the brick hide looking over the Humber plus a near adult Caspian!  Get in.  But nothing worth mentioning back at Chowder Ness though (where the birds were originally found). I've found myself being drawn into "Gulling".  I still think they're hard though.  Am I alone in this?  I can't be.  Practice needed methinks.

On the 13th I headed up to Filey to have a look at the beautifully patterned* first year male King Eider.  It showed very nicely.  Very nicely indeed for a sea-duck.  They're pretty fucking** god*** damn rare here in Yorkshire, with a record from Flamborough last year and before that a bird way back in 1846 or summat.  This bird was actually seen passing Flamborough the week before and seemed pretty settled with the local Eider group.

So, who says that this isn't a birding blog.  There.  A post about birds just to keep you happy.

*     heavy sarcasm is used in this blog.
**   I nearly went 3 posts without swearing.  Nearly.
*** I didn't even put a capital letter on "god" which shows my general attitude towards deities - pure anarchy!

Sheep jewellery


Friday, 16 July 2010

Hit parade

Fluff thought that he'd bring you his version of a hit parade, as is popular in other birding blogs.
Alright.  Greetings, pop pickers.  Nod Harf.

Don't blame me, I didn't cook it.  Alright.

1 And now to a pretty cool acoustic version of one of the Chili Peppers more famous songs.  Check out the crazy boiler suit antics of Big Tone Kiedis, alright: 

under the bridge

That was written way back in 1992.  Can you believe that?  18 years ago, man! 

2 I think this next track hit the charts around 94 and I should point out that I HATE anybody who calls their sound "American alternative rock" because that means, without contradiction, that they are utter shite.  Well, apart from this one little contradiction by Beck who is utter shite apart from this track, alright:

soy un perdedor

I can read many influences into that song, Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, George Harrison's wailing sitar-based wonderwall records recordings.......erm......and some more.  Nod 'Arf.

3 Straight in at number 3 this week is Bad Company with a song about a boy who is brought up by a pack of wolves!  Sounds like an unlikely subject for a soft rock composition to me, but here, have a look for yourselves:

Run with the Packi

Check out a young Tony Blackburn on bass at around 2:30.  The studio version of that track features a piano-led fade-out which Paul Rodgers touches on but doesn't continue in this footage which, in my opinion, is excellent. 

4 Well.  I'm not sure about white guys trying to rap like black guys but generally rubbish band Faith no More have a decent punt at it here:


Whilst you're on, click on the War Pigs cover that they did or alternatively find the proper War Pigs by Sabbath, it's much better.  Speaking of Sabbath....

5 Fuck Faith no More, here's Sabbath live in gay Paris in 1970.  Ozzy - a proper legend:

As the war machine keeps turning....

Everyone's heard of this famous yarn, but I'll tell you anyway.  Sharon was pissed off with Ozzy's partying and general rock 'n' roll lifestyle so she hid every item of his clothing and locked him in the house to keep him off the beer for a while.  Ozzy being Ozzy, put on one of her dresses, jumped out of the window and went on a three day bender!  True genius.

Jordan seems to regret having the tattoos.


Tuesday, 13 July 2010

Alarming information

If you ever buy a house/car/hat without an alarm, simply don't worry!  What's the point in an alarm?  When does anybody (myself included) react to an alarm going off? Let's think about this:

If you hear an alarm going off at 12 noon you are meant to assume the following:

a)   If 'going off', this alarm is here to say that something is wrong....
b)   .....usually that something is being taken, and/or....
c)   ...that someone has broken in without permission.
d)   Alert the emergency services at once.

And do you?  Well?  No, didn't think so.  This is what you really think:

If indoors at home and hear the alarm you think:
"Bastard alarms.  I hope it gets turned off soon cos Loose Women's about to start".

If outdoors and hear the alarm you simply walk past it and think:
"Fuck me, that's loud".

Pointless!  Now visualise hearing an alarm at 12 midnight:

If indoors at home and hear the alarm you think:

"Bastard alarms. I hope it gets turned off soon cos Babestation's about to start".

If outdoors and hear the alarm you simply walk past it and think:
"Fuck me, that's loud.  This kebab's fucking nice, I'll go there again".


My car alarm started to wail for no apparent reason today, whilst in transit.  There was no way this thing was turning off.  I even drove to a remote part of town so that I could take the fuses out without waking the dead.  This didn't stop it.  I took it to a mate of mine and as we were working on it by the roadside which is the very same road that the runners in the Humber Bridge half marathon had just ran down so there were police everywhere.  Three cop cars and a copper on a bike all passed whilst we were there!
Again, this alarm is saying to passers-by (in particular police passers-by) that:

a)   There is something wrong
b)   This alarm is going off because someone has started the engine without the correct key/fob
c)   This alarm is going off because someone has opened the door locks without the correct key/fob
d)   It is possible that whoever has stolen this car will have taken it somewhere to be immobilised
e)   Contact emergency services at once.

The emergency services cruised by......4 fucking times!!!!  They didn't bat an eyelid.  From a police point-of-view they probably, and rightly thought "Oh, there's two blokes mending/disabling a car alarm that has gone off accidentally".
So, again, what is the point in this alarm?

I suppose if it's YOUR vehicle, or YOUR car, or YOUR hat, i.e. YOUR alarm, then I suppose it is relevant, but only to you.  So why, if it is only the owner that needs to hear it, are they so loud??!! So a simple, quiet, discreet alarm is all that's required, perhaps the alarm sends a text to your phone?  This would even be better for catching any suspects instead of scaring them off.  I might market that idea.  Dragon's Den, here I come.  I'll take along my other idea at the same time.  It's a new kind of book where all the months of the year are laid out into 'dates'.  Under each 'date' you can write something to remind you of something that's happening on that 'date' or even something that happened on a previous 'date' just to record for posterity.  You will never miss a dentist appointment again.  The book shall cover one whole year, January to December.  I shall call it 'Reminder Book'.

1 Sparrowhawk.

An early prototype.


Thursday, 1 July 2010

As this is a Spurn blog, today I went to North Yorkshire

Wykeham Raptor Viewpoint.  I'd never been here before.  I'd thought I'd let you in on that. But it's good.  You should go. If you haven't already.  But if you have (been before) then forget about me telling you to go (there) because you've already been (there) and therefore know that it's good.  Or bad, depending on the day you had.  This has started really badly.

Let's liven things up by throwing TWO Honey Buzzards straight at you.  Pow!  Then let me enchant you further with tales of TWO Goshawks.  Thwack!  Now let your imagination run riot with TWO Turtle Doves and TWO Tree Pipits.  Sock!  There's something going on here.  Two of everything.  Oh, just one Hobby, that's alright then, there's nothing going on.  Or perhaps there is something going on but the Hobby just isn't in on it?  Shit!  Then only one singular Peregrine.  There's nothing going on after all, what a relief.

Onto Forge Valley for the usual fodder of Nuthatch and Marsh Tit.  And Chaffinch.

After that, I visited a place of magic, mystery, enchantment and cliffs.  Bempton RSPB where 3 or 4 Quail were calling.  Amazingly, one peered out from the barley!  Then another strutted into full view on the track!!  Then another walked upto me and walked over my trainers with contempt!!!
"What's up with him?" I thought.
Of course this is all a figment of my imagination, I didn't see one, you never do!  In fact, how the fuck do I know that it was actually Quails that were making this noise?  I've never seen one do it.  Has anybody ever seen a Quail before?  No.  Then how does anyone know what they sound like?  I'm simply going on what others have told me through the medium of the book.  Can I trust them?  Have 'they' ever seen a Quail making this noise?  How can I trust them, I've never even met Ian Shellguide before.  So, these 'Quail' certainly cannot go onto my birding mental year tick list as I cannot be sure who or what were making these noises.  And, whilst we're on the subject, when people talk of second world war heroes and say 'You'd be speaking German if it wasn't for those brave men'.  How do they know that?  I mean, the Germans don't speak English do they?  No.  It seems that the winners of any world war competition do not get to impose their mother tongue on the losers.  So stop telling me they do.

Where the fuck did that come from?
Hark, the Herald Angel sing.
I haven't mentioned football once.
Rabbits live in hutches not warrens.
Two footballers called Warren.
Warren Barton and Peter Beardsley.
You're bored aren't you?
Yes, I am.

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