the isle of kevin

i love faheem's blog.
you should check it out sometime.

the eagle clumsy club enjoyed a sunday special meeting today.
one of our members owns a pub and the plan was to meet there.
only he left the gas on last night and blew the place up.
he'll be alright when they can scrape him off the ceiling.

anyway, our special item of business was gardening clumsiness.
apparently, the top ten most common gardening accidents, involve the folliowing lethal weapons...

1. lawn mowers
2. flower pots
3. secateurs and pruners
4. spades
5. electric hedge trimmers
6. plant tubs and troughs
7. shears
8. garden forks
9. hoses and sprinklers
10. garden canes and sticks

after a quick check round the room, turns out i won the award of gardening merit for getting nine out of ten.
the only item on the list that has so far eluded me is number nine.

flower pots puzzled a few folk, until i revealed that i dropped a big one on my foot.
had a nice thumb injury after trapping it between two extremely heavy concrete tubs during a house move (6).
sliced my fingers while sharpening a lawn mower.
tripped and stabbed myself on a bamboo cane...

need i go on?

my prize today was a charlie dimmock calendar in which she poses naked for charity.
i think the charity is save the whale.

have you heard about the new range of cows they're developing?
i have an exclusive picture of them for you.

SAS cows...

they're mean.
they crap on public footpaths.
they lie in your way.
they mate as your children watch.
they moo a lot in a threatening manner.

their milk is rated over 18s only.
three pints and you're out of your skull.

my mate gordon brown wants to send them to afghanistan.

their representative responded:  'well if he wants us, let him come over here and try to mooooove us."

the worrying thing is, they look just like ordinary cows.
but look into their eyes, if you dare...that one in the middle looks like the ringleader to me.
you can click the pic to make it a bit bigger.

'When the smoke is going down"

Scorpions

from the 'still loving you' album

(if you're into guitar anthems, check out Lady Starlight on this album, it's a slow song, but it's worth hanging on till the end).

'i know you're out there somewhere"
moody blues

cheesy, nostalgic, karaoke night here i come!

the online newspaper they tried to ban because it's full of good news....the daily mirror offered me £5 million but i refused to sell.

TOP STORY - EXCLUSIVE!  gordon brown is to call a snap poll so voters can decide whether or not they want a snap poll.  he told eagle weakly:  "i don't want to do anything that is remotely unpopular and it seems only fair and reasonable to ask people to exercise their democratic right to decide whether they want an election or not."  the liberal democrats, meanwhile, are on their third opinion poll among members as they try to decide whether or not they are for or against a snap poll. meanwhile, david cameron is so keen to undermine mr brown that he has invited michael foot to join the conservatives.  on being told he died some time ago, mr cameron said:  "unlike labour, we believe in equality of opportunity."

LETTERS PAGE - Dear Eagle, i am sick and tired of inconsiderate yobs urinating in the street and fighting.  it's high time they installed toilets inside the church so the congregation don't have to do this.  yours very angirly (indeed), Rev M Tyson

LOCAL NEWS - police were called as a 26 mile traffic queue threatened to paralyse the region. it was caused when an 86 year old driver stopped at a red light, without realising he was parked outside a brothel.

SPORT - tim henman has bought chelsea football club. "i'm going to take them through to...oh, the fourth round of the carling cup at least." he said. "we'll probably crash out against a team of no-hopers but at least i'm british."

TRAVEL NEWS - the new high speed eurostar service has already generated massive complaints.  traveller albert jenkins told eagle weakly he started off at the front of the train, stood up to go to the toilet and was lifted off his feet by the sheer speed of the train.  he ended up in the last carriage - with everyone else.  

yes, they turned up, bang on time.
and i mean bang.
the first thud of the knockers sent my woolworths chandelier crashing onto my sewing table.
the second dislodged a plate of sausage rolls onto the lino where they remained as i dashed to the door to prevent further damage, then completely forgot about them.
with the result that all of us - that's rose, doris, flossie and i - slipped and fell into a heap in the kitchen.
i thought the first thing on their mind would be to have their wicked way with me.
no chance.

doris grabbed a rather squished sausage roll and elbowed me:  'gimme brown sauce" she mumbled through the crumbs.
rose and flossie ate quite daintily by their usual standards.
at least i think i noticed flossie chewing once rather than downing them in one.

ah well.  at least it occupied them for five minutes...

it took a further twenty minutes for me to lever them into an upright position.
i tied a rope round rose's waist (well somewhere across the middle of her), climbed onto a chair, wrapped the rope round
a ceiling beam and pulled her up as far as i could.
trouble was, she slipped again and ended up swinging on the end of the rope, with me desperately holding on the other end, and flossie and doris twitching and writhing on the lino trying to grab hold of anything solid.
in the end, i sacrificed rose - she landed with a sickening thud, but her bulk gave the other two a couple of  substantial handholds.

i offered tea but they all opted for scrumpy.
finally, we settled down and they told me the real reason for their visit.

turns out there's a bit of a petition on the island formerly known as kevin (now called the isle of wight) for me to go back.
doris said:  'we want you to have a poo."
rose said: "that's not right, we want him to stage a coup."
flossie trimmed her nails with a bread knife and kept mum.

then they handed over the petition.
with three names on it.

i said that was hardly a great endorsement of my leadership and proof that the kevonians really do want me back.

they all glared and told me they wanted me back and wasn't that good enough.

i needed time to think and whipped the cloth off to reveal my macaroons.
while they were troughing, i made a brave and bold decision.

i told them that if they promised to love, honour and obey me, i'd go back.

well they were so excited they leapt on me.

ever been run over by a steamroller?

so that's it - i now have to plan my poo/stage my coup, or whatever.
if any of you want to be in my invasion force, let me know.

meanwhile, i'm feeling strangely flat just now.
i'll be back with you shortly...

i've been quite unlucky with neighbours.

i've had the diy king, making his house look like a palace while i scratch me arse and admire the weeds wild flowers in the garden.

i've had the obscene harley davidson tart, with long blond hair, dressed in tights with no underpants (that's the husband, by the way).

i've had the nosy neighbour who is so keen eyed she can tell you that she saw a hedgehog trot into my garden in the early hours of the morning.

i've had the know it all neighbour who has nowt to do but express loud opinions on everything from world politics to double yellow lines.

and now i've got the copycat neighbour.

every time i go into me workshop and start up a job - doesn't matter what time of day it is - HE starts a job too.
it's getting to be good fun....now what time shall i open up the shed today....shall i use the bandsaw....or tap a few nails?
pretty soon, whichever i choose, the answering call echoes back across the fence.

my next plan is to make a tape recording of me at work, then set it up on a timer switch, with the speaker pointing his way.

six am....hammering nails;  ten am....sanding and sawing;   and so on right through.

he's going to have a tough weekend.

but i, on the other hand, will be round the front, looking out for hedgehogs...

rose, doris and flossie - remember them?
they're all coming round for tea and crumpet tomorrow.

i need an early night.

the surveyor is calling in the morning just to check my place is structurally sound before
those three start gallumping around the place.
oh, and southern water has cancelled all leave, in case they all decide they want the toilet.

i've ordered a box of cream buns from the No Waistline Bakery.

i've also ordered some rolls of that shiny toilet paper - izal.
just so they don't get TOO comfortable.

i don't expect i'll sleep much tonight.
i'm a bag of nerves.

"Comfortably Numb"
Pink Floyd

- with superb wailing guitar at the end.

heaven.

who planted these on my landing pad?
was it you, mister putin?
i know you read my blog - most world leaders do.
(see BIG NEWS earlier)

anyway, you'll be pleased to know that i didn't see them in the dark,
my arse is inflamed, and i'm going out on a curry night tonight.
satisfied?

these are teasles (haven't got a clue if that's spelled right.)
no flowers, not much colour to speak of, but they're really elegant.
oh - and they're rough, so try not to crash land on them.
it's not easy blogging, standing up.

"I Know You By Heart"
Eva Cassidy
from the Songbird album

heaven.

i got back to the nest pretty fagged out after flying back from russia overnight.
it was freezing, too, despite me thermal balaclava and my specially made eagle naughty bit protectors.

but i can't have been half as weary as the Siberian woman i went to see.
she'd just given birth to her 12th child, which weighed in at a massive 7.75 kg, or just over SEVENTEEN POUNDS.

well they certainly breed 'em tough in siberia, is all i can say.
within fifteen minutes, mum was clearing snow from the midwife's peaked cap and gumboots.

and the baby was digging up turnips.

amazing!

i told that woman that she represents a bigger danger to the planet than environmental pollution.
any more heavyweight sprogs and she'll be tipping the axis of the earth.
then we really will be in big trouble.

i also called in on me old mucker, putin.
i told him the west may have been fooled, but i wasn't.

and if he thinks that dropping large people on enemy countries is going to tilt the balance of power, he's sadly wrong.

all the nations of europe are streets ahead of you, mate!

"vot you mean?" he said.

"macdonalds, burger king, wimpy.....obesity at its highest level in america and europe...hadn't you noticed?
so while everyone's watching out for nuclear weapons, the west is thinking BIG (blubbery individual ground-attack)"

putin immediately reached for the phone...
"i vant a gigaMac vid fries" he yelled.

double entendres sound like the sort of thing you'd order as an appetiser at a french restaurant.

anyway, 'ere for yew, i 'ave ze top naughty tings what peeple say on ze television..

Harry Carpenter at the Oxford-Cambridge boat race 1977 - "Ah, isn't
that nice. The wife of the Cambridge President is kissing the cox of
the Oxford crew."

US PGA Commentator - "One of the reasons Arnie (Arnold Palmer) is
playing so well is that, before each tee shot, his wife takes out his
balls and kisses them ..... Oh my god!! What have I just said??"

A female news anchor who, the day after it was supposed to have
snowed and didn't, turned to the weatherman and asked, "So Bob, where's
that eight inches you promised me last night?"
Not only did HE have to leave the set, but half the crew did too, they were laughing so
much.

Mike Hallett discussing missed snooker shots on Sky Sports:
"Stephen Hendry jumps on Steve Davis's misses every chance he gets."

Michael Buerk on watching Phillipa Forrester cuddle up to a male
astronomer for warmth during BBC1's UK eclipse coverage remarked: "They
seem cold out there, they're rubbing each other and he's only come in
his shorts."

Ken Brown commentating on golfer Nick Faldo and his caddie Fanny
Sunneson lining-up shots at the Scottish Open: "Some weeks Nick likes
to use Fanny, other weeks he prefers to do it by himself."

you never realised the 'carry on..' films were based on reality, did you?!

my friends in the house of lords tell me that britain is in the middle of an allergy epidemic, with a huge increase
in the number of people suffering allergic reactions.

i have, of course, allowed them to release this information to the media.
however, i haven't allowed them so far to tell you what most people are allergic to.

top allergic reactions in the uk are to...

1. politicians - they bring most people out in a rash
2. estate agents - they put the con into conveyancing
3. celebrities - you either love them too much, or hate them intensely
4. bad drivers - none of us are, so where do they come from
5. rude, ignorant, yobbish behaviour - sorry, we covered them in the first four, didn't we

i wonder why there are more allergy sufferers now than, say, 10 years ago when we allegedly are more health conscious than ever....anyone know?

VULNERABLE (vul-ne-ra-bel) adj.
Female.... Fully opening up one's self emotionally to another.
Male... Playing rugby without a jockstrap.

COMMUNICATION (ko-myoo-ni-kay-shon) n.
Female.. The open sharing of thoughts and feelings with one's partner.
Male. Leaving a note before taking off down the pub.

FLATULENCE (flach-u-lens) n.
Female.... An embarrassing by product of indigestion.
Male..... A source of entertainment, self-expression, male bonding.

REMOTE CONTROL (ri-moht kon-trohl) n.
Female.... A device for changing from one TV channel to another.
Male........ A device for scanning through all 375 channels every 5 minutes.

....and, furthermore...

He said . . What have you been doing with all the grocery money I gave you?
She said . .Turn sideways and look in the mirror!

She said... What do you call a woman who knows where her husband is every night?
He said . .. . A widow.

He said . . . Why are married women heavier than single women?
She said . .. . Single women come home, see what's in the fridge and go to bed. Married women come home, see what's in bed and go to the fridge.

...

...there is something solid, warm and reassuring about church buildings.
like this one.
this is the thatched church in freshwater bay, isle of wight, just as the sun is going down...

how lovely and peaceful is that?

the latest in the close up series....should carry an 18 certificate, i think.
i'm ashamed to say this nightmare scene was being enacted in my back porch - must jazz round
with the feather duster more often...
anyway, meet stan the spider who is just packing his lunch box ... oh no, not woodlouse again!

by the way, HAVE YOU EATEN YET?

as requested by ozzzy who spotted this on my writing blog, here's a 'flash fiction' piece wot i wrote...the limit was 300 words, i think - quite a challenge!
always embarrassing to read your own stuff again, but hope you enjoy it.
i've never done one of these before, so any comments gratefully received...

DITCHED
They thought he was crazy.
Life had been good but everyone has to die sometime.
Does it make so much difference if you decide to do it yourself?
Geoff had been happy, but then Gloria ditched him the day he’d bought an engagement ring.
He’d seen her soon after, tottering drunkenly on her high heels, coming out of Yates’s, leaning on her new bloke.
The ring stayed in his pocket.
There’d been tears, rage, apathy…now he just felt empty.
Friends at work saw the strain and smothered him for a while with earnest expressions and verbal hugs.
But they got bored and now they kept away, and that was fine.
So…tomorrow then….

Strange how well he’d slept, all things considered.
Geoff tidied up, and disconnected the phone. 
The moment had arrived.
He sat in the ghostly light on the chair by the sash window. Everything else had gone to Oxfam, apart from the table beside him, a brown plastic bottle full of pills, and a bottle of water.
The digital clock counted up the seconds.  It seemed so slow.  But then, 0659 became 0700.
Then he heard running feet, and loud knocking on his door.
Simon from work said Gloria was killed by a hit and run driver last night.
He saw the pills and looked alarmed.
“Do you need me to stay with you?” he asked.
Geoff said: “I’m fine, really.”
Simon left looking relieved.
The car was where Geoff left it last night. The bumper was damaged but not so you’d notice. He put the plates back on and it only took 45 minutes to drive to the ferry terminal.
He stood on the deck, and waved as his old life disappeared over the horizon.
“Goodbye, cruel world,” he whispered, and threw the ring into the sea.

why didn't you tell me that ronald magill had died?

he was the bloke who played amos brearly, the pub landlord in 'emmerdale farm' - the one with the muttonchop
whiskers who said: "nay mr wilks" a lot and became something of a megastar of this uk tv series.

the pub was called the woolpack.
he was in emmerdale farm from its first programme in october 1972 and played amos for 19 years.

he left the regular cast in 1991, returning for brief appearances in 1994 and for his on-screen wedding to annie sugden in 1995.

he died aged 87.
sadly missed.

i never watch emmerdale now (modernised, you see - they dropped 'farm' from the title).

come to think of it, i don't watch coronation street any more either (or is that called 'coronation' now?).

how do you feel about the fact that clever people want to use pig hearts and kidneys to solve the transplant shortage?

the facts are that about 500 people die in the uk every year because of a shortage of donors.

experts now say they will be able to produce genetically modified pigs whose organs could be safely transplanted into humans.

i really don't want to trivialise this, but...

i know quite a few people who have obviously had pig head transplants.

this is a gorgeous flower.
trouble is, i can't remember what it's called!
anyway, i thought you'd like the colours which are important to hang onto, now that the flowers are starting to fade.
PLEASE CLICK THE PIC TO SEE IT FULL SIZE...

...or how about toast that never burns?

eggs that never break.

curry that makes you constipated.

i'm not averse to the idea of genetically modified food as long as it means i can get...

• potatoes that transform into chips when you tap them on the worktop
• tomatoes that don't squirt up the walls when you try to slice them
• onions that dice themselves
• ribe eye steak that turns itself over in the pan then backflips onto the plate
• baked beans that don't make you fart
• after eight mints you can eat during the day

not much to ask is it?

you're not safe from snooping, even at home.
your uk postcode says more about you than you know.

big companies use computer software for postcard profiling.
they can categorise you and your spending power within seconds.

your postcode could brand you as a big spender, a white van driver, a potential troublemaker,
or a floating voter.

postcodes are being linked up with call centres.
which presumably means if your postcode marks you down as a tight sod with cobwebs
in your wallet or purse, you'll be made to wait longer in the queue.

it's a bit like being a criminal, in a way.
you are being watched on closed circuit tv in just about every town centre.
your passport, driving licence, car tax, council tax, electoral registration...are all being used
to track you.

satellite navigation systems mean you know exactly where you are.
but so does the government if it chooses to extract the information.

i'd be interested to know if this bothers you.

and don't worry about replying to this - i promise it'll be our secret.

if you want to have any private life, do what i did - become an eagle!