Goulden Moments

Posted 5:54 PM by Gobbler
Riddled With Blog

Its just that im very busy you see. will blog tomorrow without fail and with results. Actually ive got the results and may as well let slip that i am not riddled by at least one incurable and fatal disease! Hooray! Have had to take various tests for China, and any disease/condition/malady/syndrome (and i do like a good syndrome) that includes the words incurable and fatal in its description is on the whole best avoided. Im sure even the most loopy among you would agree with me on that. actually, thinking about it, there is one person out there who would certainly disagree. that lady who got aids twenty odd years ago who now says it is the best thing that ever happened to her. Queer folk these ladys.

Some conditions have bad things in their name, lots of them, such as Advanced Senile Dementia. You wouldnt want to be diagnosed with any of those words, let alone all three of them ganging up on you. its like being attacked by three people at once or having three people pitch at you at once. it wont do.

But

Mind you, some diseases are fairly intriguing as i mustr have mentioned before. I reckon gout, trench foot and turets syndrome are all worth a bash. Syphilis is also good for two reasons. 1) All the aristocrats used to get it anmd thus it is something of a statement of class. 2) It is one of the few maladies that you can be 'riddled' by, and being riddled by somewthing always has a certain comedy element to it. I reckon so anyway.

And While I'm on the Subject, Did I Ever Mention That

I had a marvellous disease once. Perhaps physical disorder is more appropriate. I wasnt infected by anyhting, at least not that the doctors could find, and i certainly wasnt riddled. I had, and youre going to love this, Ideopathic Thrombocyto-Paenic Purpura. Well of course i did, wqhat else could it have been. Not the commonest of disorders as you can well imagine. Got my mum to explain it all. She'd bumped into one of her old doctor chums, mentioned i was off to china and he said that yes, he remembered treating me for my Ideowotsit thingyra above, and did she know that the hospital was still using my records as a teaching tool, showing everyone pictures of me. People have been calling me a tool for years, turns out they were right. I think i should try and charge them for the pleasure. After all, its my disease.

Apart from a few other things such as finishing off Three Men in a Boat, which is rather good, thats what i did today. It is now time for bed seeing as it is 2:26 and rumour has it that ive got stuff to do.

Posted 12:52 PM by Gobbler
Fairly Standard Weekend Lowdown Update

Or,
Rather,

The Guns Of Blogarone

I had arrived in london on Saturday evening for the drinking of some booze. It was in my brothers car, he having picked me up from Chateaux Goulden in Nerris HQ an hour or so earlier. He had picked me up a couple of hours or so after my return from Manchester, where i had been since Thursday for the purposes of meeting up with old friends and the drinking of some booze.

By the time Sunday morning came round some booze had been drunk, and come 11 am it was time to get ship shape and prepare for the arrival of the parentals for the first official visit to the bro's london 'pad'. This word describes a type of hip accommodation, especially when preceded by the word 'quality' and should in no way be confused with another type of pad usually preceded by the word 'launch'. There is a rocket at the bros pad but this is purely coincidental; it does not get launched.

The key points of the itinerary were a walk around HMS Belfast, moored in the Thames, and then lunch, followed by a little walk along the river. HMS Belfast is a reasonable bit of ship. Launched in 1938 she was going full steam ahead for the glorious role of protecting the British Empire. As good luck would have it, for the Belfast anyway, the unscrupulous Fuehrer, Herr Adolf took a shine to the world and most of her contents, and thought he would have a crack at taking it over. This led to a big punch up which began on 3 September 1939 which the powers that be, who presumably later went on to name Hollywood films, called World War Two, or Dubbya Dubbya Two, and not to be confused with George Dubbya Jnr. "What tremendous fortune!" Said the Captain of the Belfast, "My ship will show the aquatic variety of Hun what for!"

As I stood on the Bridge of the HMS Belfast, listening to the recorded narrative, I idly looked out of the windows at the ship. Her four forward Six Inch Guns were trained, i found out later, on a Service Station some 13 1/2 miles to the north east. I wondered what incident had occurred to urge whoever it was that decided at what the guns would be trained, whether he or she had something against that particular servicer station, and, furthermore, what would happen if the ship accidentally, through the pushing of some wrong button, actually opened fire on the service station causing a somewhat large explosion as the petrol and diesel went up. I can imagine the form for the insurance form. In 'Cause of Damage' section of your claim for the destruction of your car would be the explanation "My car caught fire due to explosion caused by accidental shelling of service station by WWII Cruiser HMS Belfast." I think the insurance company would be slow to pay out.

Thinking that as i looked out at the guns listening to the spiel on the speaker, i spotted a pigeon on the closest turret, wandering about, pecking at bits and bobs here and there that it presumably considered edible. A standard grey london pigeon, quite happy strolling the for'ard six inch turret. I presume it lives somewhere around Trafalgar Square, i think they all do and so it was some way from home. Perhaps it was at the Belfast on holiday. The recording emitted from the speaker continued thye story of the Belfast.

War had broken out and HMS Belfast, a new ship, was set to take a major part in saving the free world etc. Things went awry early on however when, after only a few dozen hours at sea she struck a megnetic mine which broke her back and put her out of commission until some time in 1943, almost three years. By the end of 1943 the Germans were getting a thorough bashing on the eastern front by the ruskies. Outnumbered, outgunned, out communisted and outvodkered the German Admiralty decided to stir things up a bit by sending the Scharnhorst, a pocket battleship (Smaller and faster than a battleship) out into the arctic to sink the arctic convoys that the irritating yankee dogs were sending to supply the russians. With the Scharnhorst went five Destroyers as escort. Things were going splendidly and as the small fleet set sail it looked as though a few Allied freighters were going to be needing a serious refit. Regrettably for the Germans the Bristish had by this point cracked the radio codes and so thought it would be a rather jolly idea to send out a few ships to sink the German Blighters. Among others, the Belfast and the Battleship Duke of York put to sea. In the ensuing battle, recreated for Herr Tourist on the bridge with shouted orders, big booms from teh guns and other noises, the German Destroyers were sent home and the Scharnhorst was eventually sunk with the loss of about 1,850 men and 30-odd survivors. The British ships got a bit perforated but none went under. Those Six inch guns probably blasted out a few rounds. It was the last major sea battle in European waters not to involve aircraft, and saved thousands of tons of Allied shipping. Now the Belfast sits on the Thames in London with her guns trained on a service station, tourists on board finding out about ye olde days and a pigeon waltzing upon the turret. The pigeon didnt seem to care much about it all and, once it had inspected the area for crumbs, flew away.

And

Lets All Blog for the Death of a Trium

My phone is dead. It was alive for a long time but it has moved on now. It must have got wet in the rain. The Trium is dead. Long live My Brothers Old Ericsson T28s!
As Well As

Everybody's Gonna Be Bloggy

The evening was somewhat slow to take off. This was yester eve, the night befoer the boat excitement, which was today. The slow take off may be accounted for firstly by the bro misunderstanding the indications of the clock. This led him to believe that is was half past six and not the true half past five, the result being we arrived in London an hour early. Secondly, as is often the case, it took some time for the plans to be finalised and the forces to gather.

This story is all about girls and women and girls but will hve to be completed another time. My apologies. Blame beer. Thats wyhat i did.