Shetland Day 4 Reprise

 After the purile attempt at summing up our fourth day on Shetland, I promised (blah) to revisit this. 

As per the previous report, we went birding and saw fuck all but then another mega turned up which was the same species as the previous days mega so means fuck all in our bird jotter spotting tick list. At this point, Mark, as I’ve decided to write in the third person suddenly, had had enough and decided to go directly to the public houseries in the area. Mark then found a members club which he entered. On entry he was asked to sign in as a non member, which he did in anticipation, he then received nearly a pint of apple drinks in exchange for money. Mark continued to pay money in exchange for apple based drinks throughout the night. 

Sexy Mark then walked down some stairs to the snookerist area. Behold! Two snooker tables and no less than six pool tables! There were no real cues, alas, some people were waiting in line for the best ones. Q then joined the queue for a cue. And that is/was the greatest ever “joke” on this website so don’t ring in. And if your Auntie Pauline doesn’t quite get it, don’t even fucking try to explain it as it doesn’t really make sense to me either. I mean, Mark.

Joel, who supports L***n (luton) was still hardcore birding like a madman and saw FUCK ALL I saw fuck all in pub as well. Mark. 

Would you fuck about with Nigella Lawson? The handsome Mark perhaps would. He sometimes thinks her ample bosom and cooking skills are quite productive. And she likes a line. Mark bets she gets decent gear though. Better than he gets. Because she can cook and has got an ample bosom. And she’s a millionaire. 

Nigella talks to Mark through the television, quite possibly in his own mind. Sometimes she’s just on the television, as in, not really there in his front room, but most of the time, she really is there with him in his front room. Cooking.

Naked. 

“Are you alright?” my only reader asks. . “Yeah, I think so”. 

I may have to re write day 4 yet again. 

Snooker hall was good though. 

Fun Facts about Darth Vader: 

1. Darth was actually christened Dave Skywalker but it would’ve been a bit of a spoiler if they’d called him Dave.

2. Darth, even though he’s loved by Star Trek fans, still regrets that he was the “bad guy” and grows turnips to appease the hurt.

3. Darth, (to his mates) speaks properly when in social situations and doesn’t heavy breathe. 

4. Darth’s costume was specially designed with a “zip” down the front just so he could take it off and put it back on and that. 

5. This also allowed for toilet breaks when Lord Vader needed to do a piss. 

6. Vader is Carol Vordemann’s cousin! In real life and that!  I know it’s mad innit? She tried to teach him algebra at 15 but Big Darth just wanted to feel her boobs. Darth has no morals, or algebraic supposition. 

7. There is no number 7.

8. Jimmy Tarbuck applied for the role of Darth Vader but he wanted to make the character a bit of a joker, throwing in ad-libs, puns and double-entendre even throughout the fight scenes. And that. 

I’ll give up. 

RIP Cardy. Top man. 

Random Pictures? De de durr…..

 

This one is me, of course. 

Shetland 2022. Day 4. Thursday. Yep.

Hello. Even though I’m drunken now, I’ve just read my last “saved” post that I was obviously halfway through. I have to say, even for me, what the fuck am I on about?! I could just delete it but no, then no one would see what kind of shite I can HONESTLY come up with! So I’ll post it and maybe finish it off/rewrite day 4. 

Here goes:

 Bashed our usual haunts and saw FUCK ALL, blah blah blah, then saw a mega again. This is where I should finish this post. But that’s not what my beloved reader wants! Oh no. 

“It fucking is” said my mother, the lone reader. 

Again, we tried. We tried to find something. It’s hard going. If you’re birding Spurn, say, you give it a go and youlll see Black Red, Little Stint, maybe a Hawfinch, some Woodcock, that sort of thing, but up there you just see FUCK ALL. But then you see a mega, and maybe twitch a couple of other things making it a great day. I’m not complaining. Well, maybe I am. And it was today that I decided to fuck off to pub early in an attempt to a) drink more b) find a local retailer of recreational drugs and c) finger some poor victim, I mean, meet a genuine woman whom I could have intelligent conversation with (finger them). 

Before I legged it to pub, we tried, again, to find something. We were close as Cleggy got onto a large Pipit flying along the cliff but didn’t call and simply fucked off, probably to pub, which incidentally was where I wanted to go. So I did. Later. Soon. 

Another mega was found! Come on! Shetland is mental. Zero Robin. Zero Pied Fly. One Brambling. One Chiff. Four megas. This new mega was ANOTHER Yellow Rumped Warbler very close to yesterday’s and found by the same birder! Fair play to the guy but I reckon even he was just a touch disappointed that his second Nearctic warbler in two days was the same species?! We were that “overjoyed” that we simply didn’t go and look right at it. I went on the raging piss and birding stalwart Joel carried on birding and saw FUCK ALL. I saw fuck all in pub. 

Last year I noticed a working men’s club. Must have a snooker table? So I went and checked it out. TWO snooker tables and a room full of pool tables and dart boards! Sing hosannas! Fuck Yellow Rumped Warblers. So I had a knock. Then shetters people started coming in and playing pool. They played alone though, as in there were six tables being played by only six people. And they knew each other. Why not play each other? But hey. I might organise a knockout next year maybe…..

Ha.

Snooker Facts:

The first ever game of snooker took place in 31bc but in a very different format. For every christian killed, the lion got 1 point then got to try and kill a colour for between 2 and 7 points. If the lion failed, it was the next lions turn.

Lions manes are actually made from lions manes and illegal trading between lions regularly occurs.

I haven’t got a fucking clue what I’m on about. I mean, look at the last two facts.

Even for me….

“Snooker Loopy” by Steve Davis topped the charts for a record 27 weeks. It is to this day, Kate Middletons favourite song but Meghan Markle prefers Fog on the Tyne by Gazza and Chums. “ol’ Willie Thawn, his hairs all gawn and the lads all take the rise, his opponent said Cover up his head cos it’s shining in my eyes” ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha how brilliant is that?! 

Jimmy the Jew and I once did a jig outside the Crucible Theatre singing Snooker Loopy. We were drunk apparently. 

Stuart Bingham once did a piss that took nearly four minutes to complete. This is the longest piss by a snookerist that Q@Spurns research dept. can find. Doug Mountjoy is second on 2 minutes 18 seconds. 

Hmmm….

Have you seen Paige Spirinac? I know she’s not a snookerist and covers golf but fuck me, have you seen the state of that? I would rummage for truffles for hours. And she knows it. She fucking knows it. I shout it outside her house every day until the police arrive and reiterate I have a banning order. 

Snooker was popularised by Jim Davidson

….And that’s as far as I got. Apparently. So ignore this post, but it’s just an insight into my mind when it’s at its most bollocksed. And that’s a proper word that. And Ive just started three sentences in a row with a preposition. Appalling grammar. 

I will (might) revisit this. Or summat. 

Shetland. The Third Day.

 Wednesday. Rain. Rain. Rain. 

I’d rather it not rain but it also meant I didn’t have to get up before dawn. Luckily I don’t get hangovers as I simply carry on drinking. The weather cleared up a little so we checked our regular spot, Veensharth and saw FUCK ALL It really is easy to see fuck all on Shetland but then you see a Pechora or a Lancey but no Chiffchaff. It is quite insane. We then covered our other regular spots and saw FUCK ALL. 

Because of seeing fuck all, we at Q@Spurn will regale you with……

Fun Shetland facts.

Shetland used to be a piece of Norway but broke off somehow and floated off into the ocean with a mind of its own. 

The population of Shetland is widely and evenly distributed around the islands as it may tip up if everyone stood at one end or summat.

Shetters, as they’re now known, will put ANYTHING in a pie. Lasagne pies, Macaroni cheese pie, even Pork Pies. I had to try a Lasagne Pie last year as they’re quite famous. Do you know what it tasted like my beloved reader? I’ll tell you. It was like a cold lasagne suspended in pastry. 

Not deep freeze. 

10cc are the only band that we know of to write a song about cold lasagne. I think Eric Stewart must be some sort of simpleton. 

Feel the Benefit is a proper tune. We had 10cc live at wembley arena on betamax back in the 80s. 

Why was there two kinds of video recorder? VHS and Betamax? Why wasn’t there just one? Or three kinds? 

Scotch video tapes had a lifetime guarantee. We at Q@Spurn have no comment or opinion on this. Thankyou sir.

Jimmy the Jews dad, Ken, had every episode of M*A*S*H on betamax. He never watched them although this is unconfirmed. 

MASH is an acronym for Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. Well of course it’s surgical! A non surgical hospital?  It really doesn’t need the surgical bit but I suppose it’s more catchy as MASH as opposed to MAH. 

In America they have mash in KFCs. The foodstuff, not 53 betamax tapes. Maybe it would be good if they had video tapes of M*A*S*H? “Do you want mash with that?” And they give you a betamax tape with Hawkeye on the front and two pieces of dead dismembered chicken. Bit graphic.

ELO is also an acronym which stands for Electric Light Organisation. (credit: JC)

ELO have never played Shetland as they’re not THAT organised to plan the logistics. 

There is no KFC on Shetland. 

Shetland is good for birding. Apparently. 

There. A seamless segway. So, back on Shetland, we marched on. We’re not massive listers, but we’re not shy either. But we’ve “only” seen two yanks warblers each. Joel, Yellowthroat and Yellow Rumped, and I, Blackpool and Yellow Rumped. On checking news, which you do every 49 seconds on Shetland, a Yank warbler had been found! Yes, come on! A third mega in as many days! I actually let out a little groan of disappointment when it broke as Yellow Rumped Warbler. Neither of us needed it for our bird jotter super tick list. How can you be disappointed with a Yellow Rumped?! We went and saw it but, and as I say, we’re not big hitters but both earlyish to mid 400s, it was sort of ironic it was this species. It’s not all about the numbers, but it seriously helps. 

Still no recreational drugs. One member of the party was starting to shake. It wasn’t Joel as he’s a teacher and cannot be linked with that sort of thing on a public blog. Nor was it Mark as his mam is the only reader of this and will get grounded for a week.

We managed to watch the football and get a bit drunk, I refused to sleep with the local women as there weren’t any. We retired to a rather poor effort of a curry and chicken Biriyani made by myself earlier. The Biriyani was alright actually but the chicken in the curry was overcooked.  

There, cookery, pies, birding, ELOrganisation, no fingering, mash, what more do you want?  Three mega species in three days. 

1 Pechora 1 Lancey 1 Myrtle 1 Eastern Yellow Wag, 1 Hornemanns Arctic, 1 Chiffchaff 0 Robin! Insane. Absolutely insane. 

Fin

………

Shetland 22 Day 2.

 Sensible title. 

Tuesday.

First light. Saw Hornemanns Arctic yesterday also. Forgot to tell you all (4 people) that. Suppression. After the Wuthering Heights of yesterday, we set off to…wait for it….Unst as the unashamed Leeds fan that is Joel needed to see the Ortolan which had been frequenting the most northerly populated isle in the British Isles. With Great Expectations we birded Yell for a while instead of going straight to the top of the world which was lucky as we were “only” one ferry from the mainland as news of a Locustella sp came through. I was driving as I was surprisingly sober at the point, a thing I was determined to make up for later in the day. 

We debated. It could just be a Gropper. Do we carry on in the hope of the Ortolan then this Locustella? Catch 22.  Then news came through that it was a Lancey! Holy shit sauce. Lancey is short for Lanceolated Warbler. And I’ve just realised the irony of being called Monica. That’s crazy that. Not that I’m called Monica of course. I presume the Lancey wasn’t called Monica. Or perhaps it was/is? And Neneh Cherry. What’s wrong with Turin? It looks like quite a nice place to me. 

My “jokes” are getting worse. I’ll delete that. No, I’ll leave it in. Make your own mind up. Where is this going?

So, a Lancey no less! In a tiny Hamlet on Shetland! We went straight there and looked right at it. Right at it. After the crowd had flushed it deliberately several times as it’s all about the views and the tick in your bird jotter pad and definitely not about the welfare of the bird that has just flown 2000 miles off course (of course?). At one stage it literally nearly flew into me trying to escape the marauding hordes trying to kick it in its head. Several flights later when I’m sure it just wanted to peacefully rest and feed rather than be kicked in the heed, it found a new field Far From the Madding Crowd. It showed quite amazingly, down to a few feet. Incredible bird. No sign of it the next day almost certainly down to the constant flushing of the hordes of bloodthirsty twitchers not letting it rest and probably ending in The Big Sleep. Still, a tick in my bird jotter pad so fuck it that’s all that matters. 

We birded like madmen, thrashing ditches, bashing bushes and erm, twatting trees but found ABSOLUTELY FUCK ALL. And when I say Fuck All, I mean Fuck All. Well, Jack Snipes and Yellow Brows and things like that I suppose.  I got onto 3 Redpoll on Yell one I thought looked good for Arctic on fleeting views but they simply flew off about 18 miles away in a huff. We’d tried to pin them down but Much Ado About Nothing. Why were those Redpolls so grumpy? Who knows what kind of day they were having so fair enough. Upto them. 

Shetland is quite, nay, very sparse when it comes to recreational drugs with no passers-by having any about their person, strangely. I suppose if a total stranger dressed in wellington boots and a Stone Island hat (only these items) approaches you in the street and asks for recreational drugs, you probably would say you don’t have any and make your way onwards, probably purchasing a lasagne pie as all Shetlanders eat lasagne pies. Or, if you’d lied to that stranger and you DID hold recreational drugs about your person, you wouldn’t need a lasagne pie! Hurrah! 

We celebrated our joint tick fest with brandy and several apple based drinks. If only the barmaids were called Jane Eyre or King Lear. I believe I might have eaten something that evening too. What is the world coming to? 

Join us in only 8 weeks time for the next up-to-the-minute instalment of our Shetland trip report. I’m almost certain it may be entitled “Day 3”. 

(Huckleberry) Fin.

………

Shetland Trip Day 1/2

 Joel (disgraceful L***s fan) and I were booked on a return flight and some accommodation on Shetland (or the land of shet according to my daughters) for c4 nights and c5 days with Joel sorting everything out as usual. 

Set off Sunday, with Joel driving all the way to, wait for it, Aberdeen for the 730 flight next mcmorn. I drank apple flavoured brown booze and did Joel’s swede in all the way. As in, ALL THE WAY. That’s fine for me. Maybe not so for Joel. 

But it was company. Sort of.

Tried to get heads down for an hour or two but with little to no success. 

Flight. Flew. 

Still drunk, we set off in true ultra birding stylee and walked through nettles and iris beds in the hope of finding an ultra rare siberian waif. We found fuck all. We did however see our only Chiffchaff of the trip! Amazing! We went and properly looked at the Eastern Yellow Wag in the back garden of some NONCE. That’s right. A nonce. I do not know why I thought the homeowner was a nonce and have no basis on which to, erm, base this. Does that even make sense? A new species for me no less although it was only a matter of time. Nonce is actually an acronym. Not On Normal Courtyard Exercise. As in, they’re kept away from the proper criminals that we all respect as they may be beaten up. Acronym is actually an acronym, which is the opposite of an oxymoron. 

Hard going. Especially without recreational drugs and apple style brown booze. But then! Joel came round the corner and shouted Pechora! Was he simply celebrating the river in north west Russia? If he was, why was he celebrating the sixth longest river in Europe after the Seine, Thames, Ribble, Nile and Joan? No. A Pechora Pipit had been found no less! Sing hosannas. We went and saw it. Looked right at it. Right at it. Then went to the public house where Joel drank lager flavoured drinks and I drank brown booze made from apples. One of my fifteen a day. We also toasted the Pechora with a Brandy. A thing that will stick with us in all future Shetland trips.

Joel wore a bobble hat which said Leeds United on it and he wasn’t even ashamed. What if someone saw him? They’ve got no shame that lot. 

I didn’t even try to have sexual encounters with any of the bar staff. I was that tired. And they had beards.

A two tick day! I cannot remember the last time that happened. 

1 Chiffchaff

1 Eastern Yellow Wag

1 Pechora Pipit!

The land of Shet is quite something. 

 

Not a clue what I’m talking about

 Jesus. I’m not vain. I’m too good looking to worry about whether I’m good looking. That’s what my mother said anyway and giggled. Not sure what to make of that. 

So. I noticed a grey hair in my eyebrows today. One of them. What the fuck is all that about? Pyooooobs went long ago. Chest also. Pyooooobs is your first worry. When you see a grey pyoooooob it’s a sign. Let’s face it. Beard or hair goes first, but when the pyoooobs go it really is a worry. Even for the not very vain. Like me. 

But fucking eyebrows?!?! Pyooooobs I can handle. Just. But fucking eyebrows? I’m not having this. The endless drive that is time (and space) is relentless. “It” cares not about pyooooooooooooooooooooooooobs. Especially my pyoooooooooooooobs. 

Every atom in our bodies were at some point were part of a star. That’s mental. An average sheet of papers thickness is around the depth of 500000 atoms. I’ve spent the full day working this out so don’t question me. I’ve taken the ratio of an average piece of paper and compared it to one of my pyoooooooooooooooobs and found that my average pyooooooooob is circa 0 atoms in depth as I’ve shaved them off. The grey bastards. Not really. The remiges I analysed and found that, on average, (taking in a sample size of 560) my pyooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooobs were approximately 766000 atoms in depth. More than 50% wider than a piece of paper. Now, at this point, I have to say, even for me, what the fuck am I on about? But I’ll carry on. 

So. Pyoooooooooooooobs (mine) were part of stars and my pyoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooobs are also wider/deeper than paper. I’m not sure where this is going to be honest. 

I’ve got a grey eyebrow hair. I think that was the jist. gist? Yep. Gist. k

The moral of this story (like Monkee in the 80s) is that pyoooooooooooobs is the first shocker (your heard doesn’t matter) but your eyebrow - your fucking eyebrow, means more. 

You can shave pyoooooooooooooobs but not eyebrooooooooooooooooooooows. 

Crisps and Craig David Fun Facts

Following on from our “popular” (only my mother likes them) Fun Facts series, today we look at fun facts about Crisps (the snack in a wrapper) and Craig David (the person who’s a rapper) although we may not be able to shoehorn joint facts about both subjects although I’m sure we’ll research some (make some up).

1. Everyone’s favourite crisps are Beef Monster Munch. Apart from people who prefer Walkers C&O (Cheese and Onion). Oh, and Frazzles. And maybe Kettle Mature Cheddar. Actually, we’re not sure what everyone’s favourite crisps are. What we do know is Craig David’s favourite crisps are spicy Space Raiders. He goes mental for them. Every night he’s on them. His lodger, David Dickinson, has to pick the empty packets up. And he prefers the beef ones. Just to cap it all!

2. Nik Naks once did a Scampi and Lemon flavour but discontinued them as innocent men we’re getting divorced when coming home from public houses around the country. 

3.  People who work in crisp factories are known as “crispers”, which isn’t particularly inventive. 

4.  Craig David once worked as a crisper. He was on the fryers but didn’t give a fuck about the quality of the produce. But then in the canteen he saw Beryl who was a beautiful honey with a beautiful body but didn’t wear a watch. This was Monday. They went on the piss on Tuesday as they both had a day off, then he shagged her on Wednesday, Beryl’s not shy, he shagged her on Thursday, he shagged her on Friday, he shagged her on Saturday but he ran out of recreational drugs so they chilled on Sunday plus they were both at Seabrooks at six on Monday. 

4.  Craig David wanted his stage name to be Craig Onion so his initials were C&O. Like Cheese and Onion.  Sid Vicious also went down this route as he was also a crisper and loved S&V. 

5.  Jacob Rees-Mogg’s stage name was also picked through his favourite Jasmine Rise Massalla Quavers although these have been discontinued. 

6.  Crisps are made of fucking potatoes.

7.  Crisps were invented by Quentin Crisp accidentally! He accidentally sliced potatoes wafer thin then they dropped into a pan of hot oil until cooked, They then dropped into. Starch, Salt, Acids (Citric Acid, Malic Acid), Yeast Extract, Potassium Chloride, Antioxidant (Rosemary Extract)] accidentally. Yesterday. 

7.  Prawn Cocktail crisps taste NOTHING LIKE Prawn Cocktails. It is simply a rouse. 

8.  Craig David was going to be called David Craig until they realised there was already a celebrity called Daniel Craig, which is a different name but sort of the same.Sort of. His PR team already refused Craig Onion, now David Craig. He just couldn’t win and, secretly, hates the name Craig David. 

9.  The 80s pop duo Salt n Pepper we’re going to be called Salt and Vinegar but they couldn’t agree which one would be vinegar. They both argued that they’d have to introduce themselves as “Vinegar”. 

“Hi, what’s your name?”

“Vinegar”.

Mrs Salt is now married to Tony Knowles the snookerist.  

Knowles and Pepper now. 

10.  Craig David’s lodger David Dickinson sells his ornaments online much to Craig’s disdain. We are not sure what Craig expected allowing David Dickinson to lodge there. Craig buys more, then David sells them. 

11.  David Dickinsons favourite crisps are Tomato Snaps. This is how Craig David’s “fill me in” originated apparently. That’s it. That’s the fact. I can’t elaborate on this fact. 

If looks could kill they probably will

 “Games without front ears, war without tears” sang Chris Rea from Middlesbrough like. Or maybe it was Peter Sarstedt or summat. 

So. Logic. What on earth can we possibly deduce from the phrase “games without front ears….”? I (don’t) hear you cry? Well…..

1.  We can say for sure there are front ears. This means we know there are one or more ears behind them. Although we cannot say how many.

2.  Ears, plural. We now know there are multiple ears, but only at the front. We cannot say for sure that the “rear” or anything behind the front ears also contain multiple ears. For instance, if, say, the “front” contained five ears (or two) there still may be only one ear behind. There may also be several rows of single ears but also an infinite, yet unknown, number of many ears. We cannot say.

3.  The model we now know contains a minimum of two ears at the front and a minimum of one ear somewhere behind the front. 

4.  The maximum number of ears behind the front ears is unknown, yet we could surmise that if the front contains more than one ear perhaps the rear or even middle and rear could contain more than one ear, yet this is unproven but would suggest if proven that the ears behind the front were set into rows…..

5.   ….This is because the term front ears tell us that there are several ears simultaneously at the front, telling us that they must be in a line or row as if even one ear was slightly behind the front, that ear would not be deemed to be at the front.

6.   The model now contains a definite front and therefore a rear, or at least something behind the front. We can say it is behind as the very nature of the word “front” implies that there is nothing beyond it. However, this does not mean that the same ears are always at the “front”, for instance, in a running race the lead, therefore front can change hands but the “front” remains constant, just not the owner of the “front”.

7.   Again, we can say for sure there is a front and one or several rows (or singular) of ears behind. Can we deduce, therefore, this model has sides?  Not necessarily. For instance if our model now contains, say, seven rows of 5 ears, this does not mean it now has sides, yet the outer ears of each row COULD now be called the side ears. However this is presumptuous as it does not prove that all the rows are directly behind/in front of each other, yet even if the rows are not in line we could still perhaps say that the outer ears are the side ears. 

8.   Having not proven conclusively that there are multiple ears behind we should now say that it is not definitive that the rows exists, ie the “rows” could in theory contain only be ear thus nullifying the words “row” and “side” in that in singularity cannot be said to have two sides.

9.   It seems (and that is a useless term in the realm of logic) that however many ears (minimum 3, maximum unknown) there are games that contain ears, as we know that the writer of the phrase “games without front ears….” felt the need to point this fact out, thus proving by default that games that contain ears exist. Why point out there are games without front ears if games with ears didn’t exist?

10.   We can only surmise what these games entailed but they sound fucking mental, with or without ears.

11.  We can also, with absolute certainty, deduce that the above means nothing if the author could spell the word frontiers. 

12.   Fin.