Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Comments enabled.....hmmm....

Several of my readers have told me they have trouble adding comments.  So I've changed some settings so it should be okay now.  It leaves me open to anonymous comments calling me a wanker and the like, but I've got a thick skin, I can take it.  So if you want to add a comment saying "Fuck you Quigs, you twat" then I'm alright with it.  But if you take it a little too  far, I will make it my life's work to find you through your IP address, track you down and tell No Neck Ted off Benedict to pay you a visit.  Some say his dad's German.  Anyway if you've got to post a comment anonymously, just put who in god's name you are within the post.  Piss easy.

I was near Benedict the other day as I was visiting all the very local sites that have ever held Waxwings.  I could've popped a mile or two down the road and seen the flocks at Asda and St Stephens but that's just not what I wanted to do.  So there.  I was rewarded with a flyover flock of c.10 SW over First Lane, not quite heading to join the flock at Sainsbury's but I presumed they'd end up there, then, not so local at all, I had another 5 going south from the car over South Ferriby on the way back from a Long Billed Dow that's been at Alkborough Flats for fourteen years.

Whoever took this photo, can I borrow it to put on my blog? 
Thanks in anticipation. 
 If you think it may be yours, just contact me and I will gladly
delete it and add someone elses stolen from Google images. 



Friday, 9 November 2012

Ollie, Jimmy, Dennis, Val, Jimmy

Good evensong.  Upside-down Ollie is back upside down again after becoming the right way up for a couple of weeks.  Let me tell you something about upside-down Ollie, he is a right proper bastard.


"Why is upside-down Ollie a right proper bastard?" I hear my beloved readers cry.
Well, he is a right proper bastard because he has tickets to see The Stone Roses in his new home town of Perth on March the bastard 3rd next year.  So now do you see why he is right proper bastard?  I knew you'd agree.  Right now I'm engulfed with green envy which will ease, then ease some more until March the bastard 3rd starts to emerge on the horizon when I will build to a crescendo on March the bastard 3rd when I will just wear a flower pot top pop mop top pop pot shot flops stylee hat and listen to the Roses all day drinking strong cider to appease my longing.  After, I will be awaiting upside-down Ollie's report with baited breath.  Magic, it'll be magic.

I care not though, as by then I will have tickets myself to one of next year's British gigs, and I also care not as last week I went to see Wolfsbane.  So there.  Sit on that.

"I pour my brain into a can and beer swamps my mind
Turning me from a man into something less defined
An open wound with raw emotions bleeding forth
The night becomes a swamp as the brew takes its course
- Dennis Thatcher c.1989

James "Jimmy" James and I went to the pub first.  Then to another pub.  Then more pubs until we found ourselves in the Sheffield area of the country.  We looked for the right site and looked carefully until we found one of several poisonous perennial herbs of the genus Aconitum, especially A. lycoctonum, native to northern Europe, having broad rounded leaves, elongate racemes, and light purple flowers......... 

How can something so beautiful be such poison?
Barren yet fertile?
Placid yet dangerous?
Beautiful yet bollocks.....

................No, not that kind of Wolfsbane you fucking nonces!  This Wolfsbane:

Totally rock 'n' roll.  See how Jeff is OUTSIDE
yet still wearing shorts and Jase needs to ABSOLUTELY put his jacket on. 
If that's not rock, I don't know what is!


So, after standing there in the Corporation in Sheffield with stinking middle aged, balding, fat, ugly, drunken men, the rest of the crowd said let's move over there away from these two and watch Wolfsbane!  That was a good joke, wasn't it.  They're pretty good but time is not on their side, alas.
During "Manhunt" a basic MAN came on the stage with a basic WOLF'S MASK on and sort of growled at the crowd!  It was all a bit early eighties, trying to evoke an Eddie-type mascot, though I'm sure it was meant tongue-in-cheek.
I think the actual clip of that is on Youtube.

So there.

Strangely, I was looking at my lists (which I don't often do) and realised looking through it that I've dipped a fair few things.  I even totted up the "dip list" i.e. things not on the list that I've gone for in some way and not seen.  Some proper bastards like Double Crested Cormorant (how did I miss that, it stayed for 18 years), Long Toed Stint, Blue Cheeked Bee Eater ( the Cowden bird still REALLY sticks in the throat), Slate Coloured Junco, then some proper Yorkshire bastards like Red Eyed Vireo, and some proper Spurn bastards like Least Sand.  The dip list totalled 39!  I think I remember reading Garry Bagnells dip list and I think my 39 outweighs his no end, so list-for-list, 39 is pretty massive in comparison.  This means that I:

a)  don't "go" for things as quick as I should
b)  don't spend enough time at said quarry, and
c)  have a big, brown cock.

Ergo, Man U are disgusting, cheating, lucky bastards who stink of piss.

This is the end, my only friend, the end.  To quote Ice Man out of Top Gun.

Who in the name of Jimmy Savile's shiny ballsack
still has a hatstand in the foyer?  Or vestibule?
I'll tell you, the clinically insane that's who.