The Message Board Ladies

So I guess it is only correct that I mention the girls.

I haven't struck up the same rapport with any of the girls, but then that woould have been a bit of a surprise, given my overtly saucy attitude to absolutely everything!

But there are a good few women of worth on them there boards, and I shall give you my personal low-down.

Let's start with Tripti.
Funny, sharp and witty. Often shows herself to be really quite smart, and can offer up a damn good recipe so is always welcome. I'll be trying one of her ideas tomorrow in fact.
(I wonder who'd win in an arm wrestle, me or her? Hee! Hee!)

And the sweet and seemingly innocent PinkPinotGirl.
A really open and honest lady, who I think will be forever young. I hope nobody ever insists that she grows up! I bet she wishes she could still try on her mum's shoes and beads and clomp about upstairs for a bit!

And PocketVenus. Haven't had much personal chat with her, but I like the dryness of the humour very much.

They are an interesting bunch, not too serious, and at least as able as any of the self-appointed high-brow women on the boards (they shall remain nameless) to have a half sensible point of view on many things.

So, to the ladies - I hope there are only princes for each and every one of you, and long may you continue to join me in fannying about on the boards.

The Message Board Men

The BBC Message Boards.

What a revelation and daily delight they have turned out to be!

This is in no small part to the men 'thereon'. (I'm doing that thing with quote marks that got Six punched!) Forgive me Crispin, I need context!

I wanted to post a blog dedicated to these blokes - they are special to me.

You are all special to me, blokes!!
For the record.

So, I give you the 'real person' reasons as far as I know, behind this high esteem of virtual, male friends.

I've mentioned Six, so let's start there.

A funny, open-minded, searching yet seemingly sure family man. It 's good to read his blog and hear he is the happiest he's ever been. Time to reap some rewards.

Gavin Corder, part-time loon, apparently laid-back soul who has an excellent real name. Full of important personal nuggets, he knows what is worth keeping. It's the little things that matter most.

Span, mi real amigo. So content, friendly, and full of daft humour. He is also prepared to join me in celebration of the olive, which is never a bad thing.

And Lionel. He's a funny, funny man, who has depth and vision beyond what those that he can't be arsed with can see!

I hope it turns out there has been a God all this time, and he continues to bless each and every one of you.

So, to my final, but in no way my least, Message Board Man.

David, Citizen of the World.

A delightful source of sauce, and a man of many topics. Always though, above all, a gentleman.

Many talents too I'll wager!!

(It's the wicked sense of humour that suggests it. Bjork will tell you!)


I hope I'll get to enjoy some more of their lives through the weird little peep-holes that are message boards and blogs.

To all my men - I thang you!

Elvis has soooo left the building!

What is it with Elvis impersonators?

This question was posed this week during a throwaway conversation with my friend, with the nub of the enquiry based around the question of why it is an unavoidable fact that they are all, pretty much without exception, 'doing' him in his later days.

The reason for this?

Well I have a theory.......

Consider, the man himself, in his prime, was the finest specimen that God ever chose to bestow upon womankind. I have yet to happen on a female that doesn't think he was at least in the top 5.

Forget the yays and nays of talent, credibility (which I would like to say I think were considerable) and his hideous decline and demise; physically, he was something marvellous to behold.

I remind you of images of him in uniform in the 50's, black leather-clad, unplugged (not as it sounds!) and frenzy-inducing in the late sixties, and the marvellous spectacle in Las Vegas in 1970, a mere 7 years before his untimely and visually displeasing end.

The man was simply stunning in his prime.

I was raised on the man and his music, by my mum.

She was never the kind of fan that had posters and mirrors (can still be found at 'fun' fairs, next to the poor suffering fish) but she basically has everything he recorded, and most of it is on original vinyl.

Anyway, I now see her point.

So back to the original theme, and I want to say that I just find it quite bizarre that men of a certain age group and disposition, and apparently body shape, are always the ones to take up the challenge to emulate this legend. This one off.

Why is it rarely, if ever, anyone making a serious attempt at the job before the poor guy had been at the hands of Doctor Nick? Why is it always the guy who looks like he's also been on uppers, downers, in ya's and out ya's, whose fry ups and beer swilling show like the foot-long, deep-fried bacon-double-cheese-peanut butter and jelly sandwiches of Elvis' downfall?

Where's the stunning, sexually charged man who made pubescent girls weep, bored housewives feel again and church-goers feel faint and call to burn him?

There is a simple answer: It cannot be done.

The prime image cannot be adequately brought to life. He was just too uniquely handsome, too uniquely charged.

So we are treated instead, as if it is in any way some class of compensation, to the dedicated many who feel they are somehow being unique and outstanding in their form of homage.

To bring clarity and closure to my point, I give you THE single most disturbing image I have personally ever seen, and I can only hope that Elvis Aaron Presley truly did pop his bejewelled jumpsuit on 16th August 1977 and is not living in Hampshire under the name of Jim Bloggins, Fishmonger, or he will surely be beyond consolation.

I apologise in advance for the image you are about to see.

N.B. Young children and pets should be well away from the area when viewing the following Hunk O' Hunk of Burning Love.


Even the man himself had the good grace to peg out before he inflicted this kind of visual pain upon us, and for that deed alone, he surely deserves a place right next to the hand of God.

Lest I forget Part 2.

I have just remembered a time when my friends daughters hamster died. His name was Edward the Hamster.

I took Charlie round to play with the girls and Edward was still there in his cage, not a breath of life in him.

Charlie got up really close to the cage and asked my friend if he was dead. 'Yes', she said.

'Is he VERY dead?' asked Charlie.

'Absolutely dead,' said my friend Sarah.

'Oh. Poor Deadward', offered Charlie, in an attempt to comfort the bereaved.


So onto the present, with a picture of him as he is now. The photo was taken at the recent wedding.

Lest I forget

I have decided to keep a little record of some of the sweet things Charlie said as a liitle boy, just so I don't forget them.

I shall add to them as they pop in my head.

So, here are my first two.

'If I am being boisterous, is there such a thing as being girlsterous?'

'How old do I have to be before I can fly?'

Itchy feet

Being a home-bird at heart, it is all coming as a bit of a shock that I have itchy feet.

It's easy to attribute the reasons why it is the case, but it is most definitely a new sense of purpose.

For the last few weeks, I have an urge to be absolutely and utterly free. Not from Charlie, jst from self-imposed ties, from clock-watching, from making excuses not to, from justifying reasons to do it anyway - all that shite.

A wonderful friend reminded me today, that I have been answerable to someone, for a very long time. When I have sat and thought about it, it is the whole of my life.

I have a little money coming next year, and Charlie will be almost 18 (shock and awe!), and I have no option it seems, than to spend it on an adventure. It is a compulsion at present, and my time is becoming increasingly occupied with the idea.

My friend Colin did much the same thing a few years back - just joined a 'caravan' in Africa. He came back 3months later, a new man.

For me I think it will be somewhere like Sri Lanka or India. Somewhere I can escape. Somewhere that will be a challenge to every sense I have. Or maybe Australia.

This time next year, the world will be my oyster. What a strange and frightening thought!

I will be heading towards 37 when the time comes, and I welcome that. Another year wiser, more prepared.

So my hearty's, if I'm not driving you all potty with my excitement this time next year, please remind me that we are all a long time dead!

Lessons in love

My marvellous brother. How do I accurately describe this man?

A thinker, a father, a man of integrity, humour and love. Generous, without agenda nor expectation. Quick to laugh, amicable, reasonable. He is capable and responsible, with a sharp and inquisitive mind.

How lucky we all have been to be blessed with such a sibling.

How lucky his girls are to have been blessed with him as their guide.

I know that there are many adventures coming for him, and I know he will embrace them with the same zeal and open-minded wonder as he does his ordinary daily life.

I hope he has a ball!

So, some background to this.

Until recently, he was settled in a 15 year relationship. Suddenly, he finds he isn't. No need for the gory details, but his wife just needed to go mad for a bit I guess. Nobody else involved either way, just the way it apparently was.

Anyway, he has the daughters, one is nearly 16, the other nearly 12.
Now I guess I should make a passing mention that the eldest of these two neices is not biologically his, but since he has been her dad from 6 weeks old, it barely registers until any of us think about it. He took her on as his own, she has his name. She is his. She is ours.

The way in which he has handled what was a very shocking, sad and difficult set of circumstances, has been nothing short of astounding.

Dignity, respect for himself and his soon-to-be ex-wife, and a determined effort to see this as perhaps a new lease of life, is bearing fruit now.

He was so very sad when the decision was taken for her to move out, after counselling and long talks into the night, but held on to routine and hope until something took it's place.

He took up Tai Che, joined in some chat rooms, got out and about, spent time with his girls, and generally threw himself into the new and exhausting role of being lone parent and lone male.

The upshot of all this slow and steady rebuilding, has been that he is now very pleased with the way he's feeling and is on a journey of self discovery, and what he sees as improvement.
He has even got a brace fitted and intends to have his bloody ears pinned back! Why not is what I say. He has the money and the inclination.

He has recently made contact with his first love, and things have taken a very exciting turn. I can see that they are going to have rather a nice time!

He is of a mind to have fun, with a view to finding the passions that were, now very obviously, missing from his home life.

He is meeting the lovely girl in question next weekend, after a brief and platonic first meeting last week.

From the smile on his face, I'd say the next meeting will be somewhat more racy than that.

Game on!