NYE18

After recovering from a cold and spending a day in isolation, I really wanted to do something for New Years’ Eve to see off this terrible year. I was due in at work the day after; but it wold be a quiet day as most people would spend it curled up recovering. I’d invited some friends over with a plan to drink a few beers and play a few hands of cards; and also discuss some plans to have a holiday away somewhere. But not one of them got in touch. And no well wished text messages either. Luckily, I’d got a spiced winter beer that I hadn’t drunk over the festive season and cracked that open and put a pizza into the oven. I then had two options; stay in and try and catch up on everything; or play out an old computer game. I figured that if everyone else could put everything on hold to go and enjoy themselves then I could too. And maybe in the next year I could look for some better friends… 

Dashing like a Mad Squirrel (De La Creme) to the Nag's Head, Reading

Our next official pub on our tour was the Nag’s Head. Some of our group had chosen to get a head start on this so that they could do some other pubs on the way; which including the excellent sounding Purple Turtle. Unfortunately, the pub was closed for a music function and it wasn’t worth buying a ticket for the length of time that we were going to be there for. I’d elected to stay on with the oldies and get a lift on the bus; but we’d been waiting outside for a while. I got bored and decided to make my own way there and catch up with the young ones and get some fresh air on the way; as it was only a kilometre on the way. I staggered through a shopping centre with my phone out trying to work out the best route on foot. Amazingly, I arrived at the Nag’s Head pub to find that I was the first one there.  

Oh No You Didn't...

One of Britain’s great traditions during the festive season is to go and see a festive panto; somewhere where all the locals get together to see men dressed up in drag acting out traditional fairy stories. So we decided to take my five year old niece along to see just that. I had to book tickets in October and they were on the dear side as it was a premium showing; but our seats were quite close to the stage. The show was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs; and it starred some bloke who won one of Simon Cowell’s talent competitions some years ago alongside someone from Emmerdale. But the real star of the show was Dave Benson Philips from TV’s Playbus who was a real treat to see and kept the show running. It was quite a long and drawn out show and there could have been more interaction with the audience. I’m also wondering as to why the dwarves all had Liverpudlian accents. But it made for a nice afternoon out on a bank holiday afternoon which would normally involve me either being at work or at home playing video games.

Graffiti Ghetto

‘We’ve been waiting all day for this drop. All day. You sure we’re at the right table boss?’

‘Aye, I’m sure. There’s no other place with our initials carved into the walls.’

‘What about another pub? Is there some other establishment with the same name?’

‘Nope, it’s got to be here. Ain’t no other places around that have this sort of tat.’

‘Well, I’m off for another beer. Am I getting another round in?’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be driving for this job?’

‘I’m driving if he shows which I know he ain’t.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, we’ve been here since three. We’re gonna want more money for each quarter he don’t show, and it’s been an hour and a half. There’s no profit in it for him.’

‘How do you know he ain’t here already?’

‘Cos the pub’s getting busier and busier and this ain’t the kind of business that you want overheard.

‘Well, we’ll wait another half hour then go to Curly Moe’s for a slice.’

Return of the Plague of the Pringles

So on I battled, but I still had this bug lodged in the back of my throat. In the past I’ve traditionally been much worse at Christmas and often I just want to sit and rest. But on I carried; right through to Boxing Day; though I opted out of going for a drink with my friends on Christmas Eve Eve as I had a late finish at work and an early start the next day. At one point I wondered if I’d got a bit of Pringle stuck inside my throat, and I could even taste bacon at times. But then on Boxing Day evening after eating some leftover bubble & squeak, my two-year-old niece decided to spew. She didn’t have much to eat; but she might have had a bit of sugar while we were at the panto. So we cleared her up the best we could and I volunteered to scrub the dishes. The next morning, I did not feel well at all. I’d only had one beer the night before but I was struggling to keep my spew down. I knew that if I made a slow move I’d make it; or at least get off the bed; but my legs were locked and I couldn’t bring myself to move until it was too late. Then it was bed rest and dizziness for the rest of the day; leaving my old dear to scrub up while I drifted in and out of consciousness.

Weltons Kaffee Dunkel at the Alehouse, Reading

There was quite a crowd outside this pub as people were making as much use of the sunshine as possible. Its interior looks small but attractive but not of anything particularly noteworthy; perhaps somewhere that’s stood the test of time for shoppers to call in on their way home, but inside it’s much more old-fashioned. The pub’s been stripped back to its bare floorboard minimum, while beers of every kind grace the bar. The main room hosts just a few tables and a rest bar opposite the window for people to sit and watch the world go by, while upstairs there’s a few wooden booths either side of a corridor area en route to the toilets. These are perfect for people to hide away in and talk amongst themselves, but it’s not very well maintained for comfort. In fact, this isn’t one of the world’s prettiest pubs to be in; but the main attraction is the beer which is in excellent condition and is as quirky and unusual as the pub itself. 

False Surrender

‘Sir, all the gates have been secured and the watchtowers still stand, but the enemy has now surrounded us. The city cannot receive any supplies.’

‘How long can the city last without replenishment?’

‘About five days sir.’

‘Is there any chance of creating an access tunnel?’

‘Sir we could try but there’s every chance we’ll be spotted when we emerge.’

‘Very well, perhaps we should consider a surrender.’

‘But sir, all our livelihood is here.’

‘Yes, but our lives are more important than our livelihood. And let’s not forget that this is a vast empire. On the downside, we’d be occupied and we’d be forced to obey their will. But let’s not forget that this is a vast army. Once we’ve surrendered they may well march onto another territory, leaving a much smaller force for us to overpower.’

‘Sir?’

‘Get all our finest troops underground. Ensure they are well stocked and well hidden. Then we’ll prepare to surrender.’ 

Pubs Galore

I felt a slight tinge of annoyance on one of our pub trips that someone was promoting a rival website to our own club site. Both sites promote pubs but ours is the club’s one which also assists local members in selecting their pubs for future competitions and encourages other people to join our club to help promote their own pubs. Of course, finding the pub is one thing, but deciding whether if it’s any good or not is another thing altogether. And that’s why googling the pub can sometimes be easier; as reviews are a lot more accessible and you get results from a selection of websites. There’s a lot of choice for websites which offer reviews and our site isn’t one of them; as it encourages people to visit anyway and find out for themselves. But in a world where every pound is precious; a bit of foreknowledge can be very handy when deciding where you should shell out for a pint.

The Reaction Faction

"Life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent of how I react to it." -Charles Swindoll.

From what I can gather, Swindoll is a Christian evangelical preacher with many publications to his name. I wonder how many of his events or publications got rejected or postponed; and how he reacted to those? Did he just put his feet up and say; ‘Oh well; the next one will be better?’ And are there more events than reactions; or do we react to every event and are just ignorant for most of them? Do we blame world hunger on someone else and decide that it’s not our problem? In most cases; yes, because we have our own events to react to. But there’s a certain school of thinking that’s saying that you’re waiting for things to happen rather than making them happen. You don’t make your plans but you react to other people’s plans. And if you feel that life’s passing you by, then perhaps Swindoll is someone that you should probably stay away from.

Butts Barbus Barbus at the Rowbarge, Woolhampton

Being a rare sunny day, this canal-side pub was extremely busy and it was difficult to queue at the bar just to get a half in while lunch orders were being taken. The pub itself was a large extended seventeenth-century cottage with ample snugs at the front and a restaurant area at the back facing the canal. The facilities were all up a small wooden staircase and you had to queue in the corridor to wait your turn to use the converted bathroom. Outside there were many, many picnic tables filled with large groups of people sifting through menus. There was also a barbecue area but the wait was at least half an hour and fries were an extra four quid. Not many of our group decided to take them up on it. Most of our party who had decided to camp here were grumbling about the wait at the bar and the food prices. There were certainly no latecomers when it was time to re-board the bus. An interesting beer range but you best pick a quieter day to fully experience the pub itself.

Surprise Shirts

While we were in the pub one night I had a brainwave on what to get one of my friends for Christmas. When we’re out on a beer trip we always wear some kind of beery shirt; but my lager-drinking friend hasn’t got one. He’d love it and he can rub in his lager shirt whenever we’re wearing our ale shirts; and I thought that loads of people must be selling them cheaply on e-Bay as they would have been given out as promotional pub prizes. After scouring the internet I found just one auction. I couldn’t even find an online shop from the brewery selling them; although now that I think about it it would have probably have been easier to choose a different lager. The size described was L/XL. What does that mean? I needed the shirt to be on the XL side so I e-mailed the seller and she opened up the packet and told me the collar size. Apparently it’s on the small size but she’s got her fiver and I can’t return it, but you’d had thought there would be more of a market around for a major well-known British lager brewer.

Sharp's Atlantic at the Angel, Woolhampton

The wait for lunch was a lengthy one, so we decided to walk into the village and try one of the pubs there. This meant that we had to cross the canal and walk back towards the railway crossing and wait for the next train to pass. I was tempted to just cross the canal but we were a long way from home if things went wrong. This pub was mainly food-based and was very quiet; probably because everyone was at the pub by the canal just down the road. The restaurant looked nice but the pub’s bricked exterior didn’t do anything for it; although it was very enjoyable sitting on the front outside terrace watching village life pass us by. Once we’d finished our drinks we left the pub and headed back to the railway crossing and try the official pub stop. Overall, that crossing held us up a total of four times that day, as the coach had to pass through it twice as well.

Plague of the Pringles

Like many people; I enjoy a late-night snack. My latest fancy is Tesco’s Chipz which is a cheaper version of Pringles. They’re the same shape but they come in a lot less flavours but they’re also cheaper which is why they’re so popular. And just like Pringles, you can’t stop once you pop. A few days before my Pringle-fest I did a smaller supermarket shop on my own to pick up a few Christmas presents; and restocked the cupboard with Chips but I also got some genuine bacon-flavoured Pringles to stash under my bed since they were on offer. And on the evening in question I’d been out for some beers and had a good scoff in bed upon my return. On the following morning I felt dreadful and didn’t have any energy whatsoever. I forced myself up as I had to be dragged through another weekly supermarket shop and nearly passed out. I was gagging for water when we returned and had to go for a lie down but was forced out to another expedition to take my mother to visit some else’s sickbed. A mediocre coffee had little effect; and neither did water or an afternoon nap. I didn’t have any energy in my legs whatsoever. But somehow I pulled through and made it into work the next day.

Daleside G & P at the King Charles Tavern. Newbury

This was the second pub that we were visiting as part of a series around Berkshire, and our first stop was in Newbury. I’d only been to Newbury once before where I spent the day dressed as a clown on the high street collecting money for charity. That was a very slow day with very slow traffic; and I’d positioned myself at the end of a street where bollards would be raised and lowered to let buses through. Apart from passing the Vodafone headquarters on the way into the village; nothing looked familiar. This pub was on a street corner which allowed it to maximise its size; and several locals were calling in en route to the beer festival at the local racecourse. It was a square bar which was smartly done up with 4 handpumps on its main counter and two on the side. Gin in a Porter made for a very interesting beer; but it was quite flavoursome.

Chasing Cars #dreamdiary46

I’m playing a board game with my Dad. It’s a racing game and it’s based on the Disney film Cars which I still haven’t seen. There’s three tracks and each track is made of plastic and our cardboard cars ride on top of these tracks. There’s also some kind of clever sensor in the tracks as when you roll the dice the cars move by themselves. This could make for a very interesting game since there’s only three tracks and it caters for up to six players. But in this particular race there’s just the two of us. We’re coming to the end of our first lap; and my car has just negotiated a chicane and it’s climbing a hill, and I land on a yellow square that says POW! I don’t know whether I’ve crashed or landed on a power-up square, but we’re both puzzled. I hunt around the box trying to find the rules but they’re nowhere to be found.

White and Black

Bluebells offer the perfect cover for us to vanish during the light of day. The flowers attract so much light that they actually give off a hazy fog which also creates blackspots in between the bluebell clusters. This gives us the perfect opportunity to hide during the day. Of course, it’s hopeless if you want to go anywhere as you’d have to move into the light and you’d instantly be spotted; it also makes scouting out the area rather difficult as you can’t see the haze yourself. But if you just want a place to relax in and spend the day recharging, then it’s perfect so long as you have enough supplies to see yourself through. And no-one will stumble upon you by chance as they won’t want to disturb the beauty of the bluebells. You just need to make sure that you’re in position by sunrise to ensure your protection.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Hassars! The next chapter of Star Wars is finally here, as a new generation of cinema-goers are introduced to spaceships and lightsabers. And it starts off very well. There’s some great X-wing scenes and even some modern-day humour as Poe puts the empire on hold as he stalls for time. But from there the fun deteriorates rapidly. The action somehow becomes a series of lectures about the force narrated by Professor Skywalker; who himself is a bit of a miser. And instead of leaving Princess Leia to die peacefully and gracefully with her fellow rebels, she’s miraculously brought back to life through some sort of Jedi reflex. And the lightsaber scenes are pitifully sloppy compared to the beautifully choreographed battles in the earlier films. BB8 seems to be the only worthwhile hero; while Chewy, CP3O and R2-D2 are solely there to make a cameo appearance because it is a Star Wars film. We’d have also liked to have learnt about Snorke and how he came to power; but perhaps there’s a chance for him to have a backstory in the upcoming Han Solo movie.

The Bitches of Wirehill

Jim was lost. He’d seen a boar and gave chase through the woods; but he was too noisy and the beast was too quick; it had seen him the moment he decided to move towards it and had charged off into the undergrowth. Now he’d come off the trail and he couldn’t find his way back. Darkness had fallen and he was struggling to make out the difference in the ground between stream and undergrowth. In the distance a fog had crept in and he could also hear voices. Perhaps his family had ventured out to look for him; concerned that he hadn’t returned before sunset. As he got closer he noticed that the fog was actually steam, and the voices were of three hooded elderly women. They seemed to be stirring a cauldron of some kind. Bitches! As he turned to go back, his foot fell onto a twig which snapped.

‘Well hello sonny.’

A Hair-raising Time

Mum’s hair brush thing is a bit faulty. It still works but one of the catches that holds the brush to the handle has come off and you have to hold it together while you use it. So because I bought it from my shop using my discount, it’s up to me to sort it out. It’s not technically faulty and I did wonder if she dropped it and broke the catch but it was out of the shop’s guarantee, so I had to call the manufacturer. So one Friday morning I made the call and thought I’d be put on hold to various departments only to be told to take it into the shop anyway. But I got straight through to a woman who asked me some questions then e-mailed me a label and asked me to post it off. The good news was that the postage was free, but I was sure that they’d just take one look at it and say it’s not their fault and send the thing back. I was wrong. Instead, we got a brand-new replacement of a completely different model.

Bluebell Walk

Mum needed a lot of support while Dad was undergoing dialysis; and although she wanted to go on the walking group; it would mean putting herself on show a bit. Dad wanted her to go, and being as I had the day off work I decided to go with her. Today’s walk was through Wirehill Woods; a strange name since it was a good two miles from Wirehill, and it also backs onto Rough Hill Woods and climbs the ridge onto Studley Common.  Nevertheless; if it’s somewhere new then I’m happy to explore it! There was a sign outside erected by the council stating that the site was an area of archeological interest; and it’s easy to see why as you climb the hill. It’s full of bluebells. May is the best month to see them and this wood is so full of them that they give off a natural foggy haze. They just wrap themselves around the trunk of every felled tree and take over. 

Ghostfusters Assemble #ghostfusters2

‘I call to order the January meeting of the Redditch Rouges. Is the secretary present?’

‘NO.’

‘Where’s Phil?’

‘He could be giving that new barmaid at the Rising Sun a good haunt.’

‘HEE HEH’

‘Why do we have to meet in these dusty old offices anyway? Can’t we just meet in the pub?’

‘No, the daywalkers are onto us; they have cameras now. Even these offices have security cameras so we have to vary our meetings to avoid detection. Ah, here’s Phil.’

‘Sorry I’m late everyone; I thought we were meeting at Beech House. I got there early and it was only when I got the minutes out that I remembered that we were meeting here.’

‘Very well, let us begin. Are there any apologies? And is everyone happy with the accuracy of the minutes of the last meeting? Terry, how are you getting on with keeping temps out of the Old Forge Mill?’

‘It’s business as usual boss but are you sure we’re taking the right approach? Every act of vandalism just causes the building to be abandoned and eventually the people’ll get tired of trying and they’ll just knock it down.’

Ghostfusters #ghostfusters1

While doing some research on Wirehill Woods; I came across a spooky video of a ghost entering an old social club. We see a door open, hear some movement (possibly footsteps) and see a chair move. Now what could be the cause of this? Could there actually be ghosts? Is someone out to catch them? Or is it staged with very fine wire which is why there’s a camera present in the first place? Or is there a natural creature which has a stealth ability and hasn’t as yet been seen by humans? Perhaps these humans are sworn to secrecy and live as a covert society; controlling or directing the future of mankind? Or maybe it’s some kind of super-evolved cat; in which case we’re all doomed. The final moments of the video shows the camera panning down before fading off. Has someone stopped the video and is putting their equipment away, or has the camera been knocked to the ground as it doesn’t want its presence recorded? 

Banks's Sunbeam at the Hopwood House, Hopwood

This pub is nestled in the beautiful Worcestershire countryside in a green belt section between Redditch and the outskirts of Birmingham. It’s directly alongside a canal which has a towpath for pedestrians, though the major link road that runs outside keeps the pub very busy. The pub’s built on a hill which gives s very steep climb up the steps from the pub’s car park, or you can avoid this by climbing the hill up the road and entering the pub through its traditional porch entrance on the other side. There’s a large variety of tables to suit all groups from couples who fancy a quiet meal in the corner to a family meal and there’s even bigger sections for those who want to make a night of it. Towards the bar area there’s two large snugs for. Ore groups; and just round the side of the bar is a space reserved for drinkers to meet up. 

Webheath Wanderers

My folks are part of a walking group called the Webheath Wanderers. They roam back and forth across town once a week as part of a council-led get fit scheme. The walk would typically end at the village hall where they were served tea or coffee. Due to a council budget cut; they started to ask for weekly subs to keep the group going which would cover public liability insurance. A lot of the group weren’t keen with this so they decided to form their own group and cut out the middle man.  The walk now finishes at the local pub, and if it’s the first of the month they go for a meal as well; which is the day my Dad would join them.  There’s been some strange policies from this pub in recent months; from not having enough mugs to turning down a whole host of diners because of a bingo group; even though there’s a bar as a separate room. They now go to a different pub for their meal.

Pup Pains #dreamdiary45

I’m on my way back from a long country walk to my camp site. Along the way I’ve adopted three beautiful puppies from a farmer. The last stretch of the walk is through a bridle path that runs alongside the main road, and the entrance to the site is in the middle. On the other side of the path is a line of fences which backs onto people’s gardens. One of these fences has many holes in the wood panelling; and a German Alsatian is sticking its nose through it protecting its territory. Naturally, the puppies are frightened and scatter in all directions. The owner of the Alsatian comes out to see what all the noise is about; and the puppies slowly congregate at my feet. One of them has lost his fur and is completely bare. I open my satchel to take some notes and get the owner’s address, but my pad is covered in dog shit; and further small pellets of poop come out of one of the other puppies. This is not a good breed to adopt.

The Waiting Game

While we were waiting for results; we had to call the doctor out twice as my Dad was too fragile to visit the surgery. The doctor took a while to attend as he had to make a number of other calls but when he arrived he too was fragile and had to be helped out of the car. He also couldn’t make it up the stairs so Dad had to journey down to him. Not much was decided other than to be referred to a specialist at the University of Birmingham’s hospital where some further observations would be done and to decide whether dialysis was required and how often. The problem then was waiting for a bed; and all we could do was wait for a phone call from the hospital to tell us when to go. Unfortunately, the day we got the call was the day that I was stuck at work and I’d left my mobile in my bag, so I wasn’t initially available to drive him up. When Mum did hold of me through the work phone I fled home to find my brother was just getting ready to go; but they opted for me to drive still. We got there just after 8 which was unfortunately when the ward closed; but after visiting the admissions desk downstairs we got them to open up for us.

Sometimes it's Better not to Try

It may sound cruel, but we love to see others fail. And with so many video cameras out there today ready to record our follies; you can get a great entertainment feature going with enough camera clips. Jeremy Beadle’s You’ve Been Framed is still going; although the studio audience and interviews with the stars has long been replaced by Harry Hill and hilarious commentary. Even Channel 4’s got in on the act with a series of clips from the internet. And now the latest channel has arrived on YouTube; the Fail Army. These people scour the net to gather the best clips; poaching and sourcing wherever they can and encourage as many people as possible to make submissions. Their videos are hilarious; and as well as a weekly video of the best clips sent in of those rare moments captured in the street; there’s also the occasional themed videos to make you crack a smile. Go check them out and see what other people are failing to achieve. Sometimes it’s better not to try… 

From Floating Ribs to Feeble Reminisces

This narrative is part of a long saga that I’ve tried to avoid writing about for a long time but I feel the need to press on and move onto other things. It all started in late 2015 when flu season was in session and my Dad caught the bug and was holed up for weeks in bed. The following year; we tried to convince him to get a flu jab which he turned down; but he didn’t actually get sick until he returned home from a trip to Hereford in February; which for reason is a hotspot for this particular condition. It took ages to convince him to go to the doctor; but with another trip approaching (and this one being abroad) he knew he had to get himself checked out. The doctors first diagnosed him with a floating rib which was strange as he wasn’t feeling any abdominal pain. But after a blood test we had to take him to hospital immediately.

Perfick!

"Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence." -Vince Lombardi

There’s no such thing as a perfect person, because a perfect person would live in a perfect world in total harmony without being subject to pain or misery. And since you ask; this perfect world would be in a perfect universe. Lombardi knew this but still pushed his players as much as possible so they could become as close to perfection as possible and achieve excellence. It also makes you wonder; was the world perfect before humans arrived? Would animals accept that they were part of a food chain? To achieve your own version of perfection you really must put up a fight; and put your views and values before all others. Of course; you’ll meet much resistance along the way as your views class with your neighbours. It’s another reason for starting a conflict; there’s just too many individuals trying to achieve their own goals. But if people agree to work to the same values, you might not hit perfection but you’ll be a lot closer to it.

Porking Out on Pies

I like a good pie and Ginsters really do hit the spot. You can carry a slice around with you all day for when you’re ready to tuck in. But the trouble starts when you begin to heat it up. The pastry just gets too soft to contain the filling, and things get very messy very quickly. They haven’t been on offer either just lately. Perhaps it’s because it’s not the snack season and everyone’s too full up on Christmas food. Or maybe it’s more of a summer thing when you’re on the go a bit more and just want a pie away from home. It’s nice of them to put them on offer when we want them; but does this persuade us more to buy it? Surely they’re better off selling them cheaper in the winter when sales are down? Or does the company produce too many in the summer and it’s just so that they don’t go to waste? It’s a very strange marketing technique.

A Troubling Breakfast at the Trouville

I’m usually not too worried about dining alone; but when you’re in a hotel it’s a bit more inconspicuous as you tend to see the same people every day. But I was hungry and I’d showered and made by best to look respectable. There was an Indian maître’ d who was waiting to greet me upon my entry to the dining room; and after ticking me off his list he beckoned me to follow him to a table. After following him to two other members of staff which he had conversations with in another language; I was remembered again and led to a table. I wondered if he had difficulties seeing me behind him as he did have just the one eye. He arranged for fresh coffee for me and invited me to help myself to the continental buffet. But the strange thing was that the full English was supervised. It wasn’t cooked to order and it was laid out like a buffet but you weren’t allowed to help yourself. They’re obviously counting the pennies.

Stonehenge Sign of Spring at the CAMRA Member Bar, Bournemouth 2017

Spring had been and gone by the time I got myself sorted and ventured out of the hotel on Saturday. It was blazingly hot and every Londoner and his dog had migrated to Bournemouth to enjoy the sunshine; perhaps some were relaxing after the big match that day. I fancied an ice cream and took to the beach; but queues for these sorts of shops were massive. After a walk round the pier and watching people zipline off towards the beach; I decided to walk alongside the sea to as far as Boscombe to try and find an ice cream vendor that didn’t have a massive queue. Along the coastal path I was passed by the famous land train and cyclists on novelty bicycles that were done out like giant motorbikes. The gaps between kiosks got shorter and shorter, but the lines just got longer. Eventually I reached Boscombe and got in line for the next vendor I saw. I queued for twenty minutes and the line didn’t seem to be moving. But it was worth it; I got a double scoop of Jaffa-cake flavoured ice cream. 

Futurama; Worlds of Tomorrow

One of my favourite all-time TV shows has been brought back to life in video game form! After being launched on YouTube as a standalone-podcast; the cast of Futurama have arrived on an easy to play mobile phone game format. The game’s based around a series of missions that you need to complete by unlocking rewards through combat. Once you’ve earned enough cash; you can spend it on buildings to increase your revenue and build your own futuristic city and make your team stronger for future missions. The strange twist is that you spend cash rather than earn XP to develop your characters; but the fun side is that there’s a lot of exclusive content during themed events where you can unlock different character and buildings from the show. You can also battle other players; though they are computer-controlled instead of having a live battle. Though it’s a bit repetitive at times to earn rewards; there’s a lot of storylines to explore. Just be prepared to put a lot of time in during special events!

Hattie Browns Moonlite at CAMRA Members Bar, Bournemouth

The coach arrived back fairly late in the evening; which meant that the Member’s bar was quite deserted. Most attendees would have either gone off to explore the local venues or find food or shelter, which just meant that just a handful of diehards were present along with latecomers and other trip attendees. I got myself a glass and tokens and picked out a low gravity bitter to try which had a soothing and steady effect. There were a few familiar faces to say hello to; but all were heavily engaged in conversation and I barely got a nod of recognition. After managing two more beers I decided to call it a night and returned my glass; but strangely I don’t remember any more. I somehow woke up the following morning with a sickness bug on my mattress while fully dressed. There was also a very strange smell on my trainers; and I’m still unsure whether I had a light retching or I stepped in something on the way back. Reports from witnesses the following day state that I was “a bit wobbly”.

Watch out; Facebook is watching...

Have you seen Facebook’s new spying feature? Every time you check in; it wants you to find out some information about the venue. But when you’re out and about, the last thing you want to do is go and find out what their opening hours are. It really gets in the way of your visit. Then later; it tells you how accurate you were as if it’s all a test. So do they take the highest score every time someone checks in and makes the decision themselves? Or do they forward the information to the venue owner to update? There’s also some very loose questions. Is this place romantic? Surely it depends on the atmosphere at the time. Sometimes a restaurant can be quiet but at other times there’ll be a large rowdy party in the room. Even if you skip through the questions; it wants you to write a review later so that it can compete with other websites…Facebook is watching.

Up with Downton

The second brewery that I visited that day was just over the road. The tour had finished and people were naturally helping themselves to the charitable beer on offer and chatting on beer barrels placed outside the brewery. The second group began to arrive so I headed over to the other side of the industrial estate. There was no tour on offer here; instead it was a brewery bar set up to be run as a pub for the evening which was open to the public as well. The bar staff were very friendly and were happy to chat about the beers and let us wander in amongst the fermenters. There was also a second bar outside in a patio area consisting of a garden shed which sold guest beers for the villagers. Guess most of their pubs are food-based as they’re near to the main road. The beers weren’t free here but prices were very reasonable and I began to feel a bit merry. 

Spoo7

After watching the Daniel Craig Bond films over Christmas; I came across this video on Amazon. The title and blurb looked interesting; a shortish film featuring a mock Bond visiting the entire genre from Dr. No to Skyfall. But what a bore. All we actually see is a bloke in a tuxedo struggling to say his name before he gets shot by the on-screen assassin hiding behind the famous gun barrel shot. In between we’re shown scenes which are heavily titled from other films; all of which have something going terribly wrong for the main protagonist. There’s no plotline or links between the scenes; and I found myself skipping through many of the films that I haven’t yet seen or heard of as I wouldn’t understand the parody. These very short clips have misspelled titles; partly to avoid copyright laws; and are published at both ends of each clip in case you fast-forward too far and miss the start of something that you might want to see. Surely this sort of thing should be on Youtube rather of being marketed on Amazon as a professional production. I didn’t laugh once.

Dancing Man Bone Dry at CAMRA Members Weekend, Bournemouth

What a strange name for a brewery. Are they implying that this beer wants to make men boogie? Once consumed; you’ll just want to get up and strut your stuff? I certainly was dancing at the end of it; but it was more to do with the other beers that I’d had rather than this particular beverage. Or maybe it’s the men that make it that dance. Perhaps they have a certain routine that they have to bang their bungs into the barrel in time with the music on the radio. It also makes dray deliveries an interesting experience. And I wasn’t actually bone dry either; it was the second beer I’d had since a long coach ride back. Are the bones crunched into powder and used as finings or are they just left to soak into the brew? It’s also unfined, so the bones are sourced fresh from the bones of dancing men. Or perhaps it’s the dance routines that are a bit orthodox. Those poor brewers.

Pondering in a Pub #dreamdiary44

I’m out for a walk with two old high school chums. We catch a bus for a night on the town, and I get off just around the third corner. Then I check into a posh hotel with all these foreign students; but it turns out that it’s actually a hostel and we’re all sharing the same room. My bed is next to the lovely Flo; an Italian girl who I met at university. I decide to venture out for evening drinks to find my school friends but they’re nowhere to be found. I scour the city’s bars but there’s no traces of them in any of them. I buy a pint in a pub called the William Gladstone; prop up a long bar-like table facing the window; and stare out of the window and into the night to ponder my next move. But the weirdest thing of all was that I actually dreamed that I was writing this dream down on my notepad ready for typing into my computer.

Brewhouse SaivourED at Brewhouse & Kitchen, Bournemouth

After exploring the delights of the town centre; I decided to give a recommended CAMRA pub a go and head to their newest venture. It was a little bit out of town and I had to climb a steep hill to find it, but I arrived at the Brewhouse & Kitchen about an hour before last orders. All the official business had been completed but there were quite a few books around informing people of the different brews and food available. I opted for the lowest gravity one; but it didn’t have any condition whatsoever. It was too fresh and too clean; nearly like a flat lager. The bar itself was quite trendy; with a lower level Friends-styled sofa and beer barrels; while the mezzanine level had bartop-like tables against the walls for people to sit and chat; with a large copper fermenter being the centrepiece. There was also a set of steps to a rear beer garden. I did try a second beer and the only difference was the colour; so I gave up on decent beer and headed back to the ranch.

Ladies Wot Lunch #mcdonaldsmutterings4

It’s great fun people-watching in McDonalds. I just happened to take up a seat next to the touch-screen kiosks; and I could hear people place their order. ‘Oh my God, there’s so much choice!’ It’s like they’ve never ventured inside before. But the scariest thing that happened was that a member of staff came round and asked if she could get anything for me. At first I thought she thinks she knows me or it’s someone that I don’t recognise. But hang on; this is a fast food chain and she’s just done that to the table next to me as well. But fair play; they’re really trying to make the difference and separate themselves from other fast food outlets; especially with table service. I wondered what would happen if I asked her to get me a coke? Would she bring back the change or a card reader; or would she walk through placing an order on my phone? Only time will tell…

Stone Circles

After parking and tucking into a mid-journey snack, I joined up with English Heritage and wandered about the make-shift neo-lithic village. There was also a lot of construction work on alongside some unfinished and closed exhibits in the visitor’s centre. After setting off down the main road towards the site; I realised that a round trip would take forty minutes to complete, so I turned back and got into the queue for the courtesy shuttle that was included in the admission ticket. When I got to the site, the main stones were roped off and there was a very worn circular path which we had to follow in a clockwise direction. Even though it was only April, there were quite a few international visitors around. Nevertheless, I was still awed by the majesty of the site, and in the gift shop I bought a miniature model in a tin alongside my standard keyring. What was stranger was that on my way out; there were a number of people in suits just lounging about in the car park.

Dirty Habits

Shall I tell you about my dirty habits? Maybe you won’t peddle this far back to find out. Or maybe it’s time to get them out into the open and admit that I have a problem and move on in my life. Maybe it’s time to tell you why I smell funny on certain days. Everyone needs a bosom for a pillow. It’s just nice to feel an extra touch at night in certain places; even if it involves shoving a pillow down your crotch. If wartime sailors do it then why can’t I? I’ve been doing this since my teens and just lately all of my toys have been subtly taken away. And nowadays, when I feel tired out and just want a rest day; I still prop myself up with a cushion even when I’m fully clothed. It just seems to be an instant relief from the stress of everyday life; even if I live to r4egret it when someone walks in on me or I have to wash myself down in a hurry. I’ve even got the option of a separate blanket in the form of a sleeping bag for those winter months. And it sure does warm you up.

Stuck at Stonehenge

I’ve always wanted to visit Stonehenge. Apparently I visited in my younger years but I was too young to remember. I’d planned to visit a lot of historical sites this year with some student friends; so this gave me a great excuse to call in on Stonehenge on my way down to Bournemouth and become a member of English Heritage at the same time. This would mean that I would be able to visit one of the moist expensive sites in the country for free as part of my membership. I’d opted for the scenic route down which would take me through Evesham; where I stopped off to buy some toiletries that I’d forgotten and bought a cup of coffee for the journey. But once I’d crossed Worcestershire; the roads got extremely rural. Eventually I reached the main road and spotted the signs to Stonehenge; so I started to ignore the sat-nav. But what I didn’t realise was that the sat-nav was taking me a different route to avoid the traffic.

Yes I Can

"Whether you think you can or you think you can't, you're right." -Henry Ford

Henry Ford challenges people to put their beliefs to good use; but in effect he’s saying that only you know whether or not you can do the task. You’ve got to will yourself to do something in order to be successful, and you can’t rely on others to convince you to achieve your goals. If you’re gearing yourself up for a sporting competition; this phrase might create some disappointment afterwards if you prove yourself wrong; especially if you’re part of a team. But what if Ford himself was wrong? All modern cars come from Ford’s traditional design; which in itself is just a horseless stagecoach. Not much of an improvement when you think about it. Would a pyramid be safer; or a rubber ball? Or why not a high-speed conveyor belt public transport system? Some may go to great to lengths to argue that Ford’s invention has doomed us all to fat slobs who pollute the atmosphere and that he’s the slowest ever antagonist of our Armageddon. Time shall tell. 

Whoopsie Daisy Angel

And now it’s my turn. Unfortunately, it’s not Ring a Ring of Roses. Stuck between the gym and going to work; I’m forced outside in my slippers to perform my niece’s starring role in her Christmas play while leading my younger niece round the garden in a series of faster and faster spinning circles. I look like a giant dizzy penguin; and nothing like a snowflake as depicted in the song. If I am indeed the Whoopsie Daisy Angel; I certainly live up to her clumsiness by forgetting my angel costume and not learning my lines. Even next door’s dog grew impatient at the delay to our lyrics at the start of the song. It took me a long while to sit down; but I get an encouraging round of applause from my smaller niece once I’ve done so. Luckily, I manged to tire her out a little bit. As for the big one; who knows when she gets bored of performing?

Bring back the Faraway Tree #dreamdiary43

There’s a very large oak tree at the top of a hill. There are many trees like it; but this one is the tallest. In this tree are many windows. They’re in a high semi-circle arch shape with a double-crossed glazed crucifix painted through them.  I feel like it’s a gothic version of Enid Blyton’s The Faraway Tree. Someone would make a killing if they brought this franchise to the big screen right now. There’s also some carrots dancing outside; but I’m so absorbed in the route of the walk that I’m doing that I womble right past. Inside, Moonface is reading his books in all his celestial glory. Just think of all the solitude that you could find in this place; think of all the tasks that you could get done by living in the forest without any online distractions. You’ll have to hide when the famous five come round to knock on the door for tea; but they’ll also be a lot of time for parties when each land comes to visit the forest.

The Enormous Turnip

There’s nothing sweeter than your young niece starring and directing a play in your back garden that she’s learnt at school. Add an even younger niece who just wants to join in and copy all the actions alongside a nanny who’s struggling to keep up and you’ve got comedy gold; especially when only one person knows what they’re doing. You’ve also got to wonder about the actions that they’re doing. Nanny must have seized up while crouching in position for so long. I don’t think that I’ve ever had a vegetable wave at me before; especially one with the ability to grow and shrink at will. But I’ll think I’ll pass on the stew. At least the pie will have something else inside it. Perhaps in future productions we could take advantage of the long grass on the stage and crawl across the ground to munch the enormous turnip. But it’s much easier to say ‘aw’ and admire their cuteness.

Buggered at Byron's

I’ve heard good things about Byron’s Burgers. It was recommended by someone at work and I wasn’t sure if they were linked to the brewery of the same name; until I encountered another branch in Liverpool. When we popped in it was on a late Saturday afternoon so we thought it’d be reasonably quiet; done with the lunches and too early for dinner. But this was not to be. Although we didn’t have to queue for a table; the people after us did. But I couldn’t understand it. The burgers sounded delicious but weren’t supersized for the price; and fries weren’t included either; making the average meal about £12. We also ordered some traditional malts but didn’t arrive until the food was served as an afterthought. I was hoping to strike them from the bill and go elsewhere; but sadly that was not to be either. The whole place just seemed a little unprofessional with kitchen assistants bringing boxes of frozen food up from the cellar in front of people. And attention to detail wasn’t on the menu either; tables weren’t being cleaned properly with food simply swept onto the floor underneath the table. Don’t wear sandals if you visit.

Family Dining

Going for a curry has changed. It used to be a question about survival. You’d walk in with your mates after a few beers and order the hottest curry available alongside ‘some of them giant crisps’ to keep you going while you wait. But the Indian restaurants of today are much less macho. Their extended range allows them to cater for a much wider variety of pallets where medium or mild spices are the norm which can be made if you ask them to. Larger groups mean that picky diners can share their dishes with others; or at least allow them the flexibility to share a range of side dishes; which is especially useful for younger diners. The best Indians focus on the food rather than the drinks; and if they let you bring your own then you know that you’re onto a winner. And as long as you’re happy to try something different each time, then they’re more than happy to serve you.

Just Desserts #dreamdiary42

It’s my cousin’s wedding day. Actually I’m not sure what relation he is to me; but it’s something to do with my Dad. He’s quite a small chap; but he’s well connected. He’s been promoted in a manager’s position that I’ve previously applied for; and since then he’s gone on to become the manager of a brand new store as well as a manager of a new distribution centre. In between, I’ve attended his engagement party (where he was pissed as a fart and had to be taken home early); and his wedding day where he barely acknowledged my attendance. It therefore gave me great pleasure to punch him in the nose on his way to attend his wedding ceremony; complete in bridegroom clobber. Granted; the punch was on my home turf more than his and it was nowhere near where the actual ceremony took place; but I’d certainly do it in real life in exchange for all the family support that he’s provided.

The Last Heretic, Burton upon Trent

My next stop in Burton was a cosy micropub on the main road into the town centre. The mainstream gang began to catch us up, but three of us managed to crawl around a circular table in front of the pub’s only window. It’s nice and cosy and there’s room enough to stow our bags underneath and our coats on our chairs without being blown by cold air every time someone walks through the door. Our camp is established, but from there it’s a bit of a wrestle to the bar. The locals aren’t too keen that we’ve invaded; but they’re too busy discussing their daily lives with the solo barman who himself is trying to please all his visiting patrons. But they’re certainly right in the pub’s name; all religious practices and democracy gets suspended whenever the pub gets crowded. I toy with the idea of venturing further into the town; but the cold weather and the appeal to return home overwhelms me.   

The Last Customer

It’s home time but unfortunately the shop isn’t shut. There’s still a queue of customers who believe that you’re here until the lights go out and it’s time for the staff to go back into their boxes. There’s some who’s refusing to move until they’ve received their delivery. There’s someone who wants a complicated refund. And there’s someone who just can’t make up their mind and has forgotten their pin. You smile and try put on as much charm as possible; but inside you just want them to give up and walk away; and plot for the quickest way to turn them away from your counter. Who are these people who are detaining you? Where is the support to relieve you? And why don’t they appreciate the extra effort that you’re going to to help them on their way? Occasionally you might get an appreciative thank-you from the person that you’re serving; but the next one looks at you with evil in their eyes and so much contempt if you don’t tend to them. But the real acknowledgement should come from the management team. It’s when they complain to you about the lack of staff rather than appreciate the extra time that you’ve put in that you begin to lose your faith in them. And when you’re trying to get out the door; the last thing that you want is for them to be all chatty and find about your weekend plans. They’ve had all day to do that. 

Not a Unified Uniform

Our group can often be identified by our brewery shirts. Traditionally, we’ve always got them sponsored then we make up the rest through our event profits. But when it comes to our own social events; we have to fork out for them ourselves. Now; I’m happy to pay for something that I want to wear; but when I’m required to wear it as a uniform I’m a bit sceptical if I’m buying something that I don’t like, especially if I’ve got something in a similar colour. If I do wear my similar colour; then from a distance it looks like that I’ve blended in with the crowd; but up close you can immediately see that I’m the odd one out. It makes me look like a sergeant amongst the corporals. But if I don’t at least wear the same colour; it makes me look like a tagalong or a late addition. I think a sandstone colour is a novel idea when you’re going to the beach; but mid-April isn’t exactly beach weather. Then again; that week did turn out to be one of the hottest of the year. Perhaps next year shorts and branded sandals are in order; or maybe even a sunhat.

Thor: Ragnarok

This film was going to be a lot of fun. There was going to be a lot of comedy between God and beast; and I had a lot of questions for this film to take place? For instance, how does Hulk get to Sakaar? And what causes Thor to follow him? I’d totally forgotten that they both disappeared at the end of Ultron; Thor to search for more infinity stones and Hulk left on his own in the Quinjet; though surely a journey like that would take millions of years? Also, the fact that Odin dies doesn’t make any sense in itself; since he himself is a God; and it’s also a very emotionless family moment; especially when they’re reunited with their sister. Towards the end of the film; we see a very dark God emerge; he’s lost his home; his hammer and his eye. And we’ve yet to see the end of Ragnarok as the city of Asgard needs to be re-born. But I’m very much looking forward to Thor meeting Nick Fury again; a meeting of two eye patches…

Highgate Vampire at the Weighbridge Inn, Burton-upon-Trent

From the main road, this pub is a bit tricky to find. Our little blue dot came to an end on the main road just outside the historic Grainstore House. Spotting a flight of stairs, we headed down into the yard itself; and after wandering around we came to a small building consisting of three sheds that had been placed outside to form an admin office for the deliveries. Little did we know that this was the pub itself. Inside was a very warm welcome with a log fire; a blackboard listing all the ales and pub snacks available; and a very cosy pub painted in a very royal red. We squeezed oursdelves around a table before the hoards arrived to work their way through the beers. The beer we had was a bit plain considering it had been brewed by Fownes; but at first glance I thought it was from the former Davernport brewery.  Maybe it was one of their former recipes.

A Date with Valhalla #dreamdiary41

It’s early in the morning and I’m tucked up nice and snug in bed. Suddenly there’s the loud sound of a car tooting its horn outside. I look out the window and there’s a large stretch white limousine parked in front of the driveway. Through the window in the passenger seat is a large obese woman with bubbly arms wearing a curtain for a dress waving at me. My hungover brain is telling me that she’s vaguely familiar and that she’s some kind of God from Valhalla; and that somehow we’ve agreed this rendezvous. An image of Tinder springs to mind alongside a solo session of drinking in the pub while flicking through likes on my phone and forking out for a subscription. A time of 6:30 was agreed upon; which is what is showing now on my digital alarm clock; although I didn’t realise that it would be that early in the morning. She’s definitely a bit over keen. I’ve got no idea where I’ve agreed to go and I’m nowhere near ready. I also need to cancel my work plans for the rest of the day.

Beer is Best!

Whenever Mike was in battle, he always made sure that his best mate Dave the Dray wasn’t too far away. As soon as they’d gained some ground on the battlefield; Dave was always safely parked behind the nearest bunker with the greatest protection possible. Mike would always make sure that there wasn’t a scratch on Dave’s truck, commandeering the whole squad where necessary to keep the shell shiny. And should they have the need to fall back; Mike was the first to get the message to Dave and ensured that the retreat point was known to him at all times. For Dave carried the very best of supplies; the evening’s beer rations. Mike was never allowed to ride with Dave; the urge to crack open a brew before Sarge’s permission was just too tempting; but Dave always thanked Mike for keeping safe by letting him be the first to cap off the day’s rations. 

The Woes of World Cup Rugby

What’s going on with the Rugby League World Cup? It’s all gone a bit too commercial. Suddenly there’s adverts for KFC and Australian phone companies jumping out of the pitch. Like that’s a great way to help promote a healthy lifestyle when you’re playing sport. It might be OK if you’re a professional bulking up for your next game with a protein fix; but what is it saying to the spectators; especially when it’s broadcast on a Saturday morning, which is primetime TV for youngsters. And why are the referees wearing pink? I appreciate that New Zealand might not appreciate an all-black shirt; but they could have least added some white stripes to cover themselves? Even the head trainer wore orange. Finally, the England team have taken sponsorship to a new level by getting their arses sponsored by a betting firm. It looks like they’re trying to attract a new audience. Anyway; if you’ll excuse me I’m off to buy some large chips with gravy for $2.50.

The Honesty Buffet

As part of the tour, a buffet was put on as requested which attendees had to declare an interest in advance. There was also tea and coffee; as well as a choice of beers at the bar; though the demand to be served was quite high with some people queuing and others propping up the next available space. The staff supervising the tour all seemed to be junior team members; so perhaps that caused a bit of a stir in some minds. Unfortunately; names were not taken and not all contributions were collected; despite it being quite demolished. Naturally, the offer of a buffet is up for debate in future. I for one have this quite astonishing; as many of us have been given a free tour of a brewery which would usually involve some admission fee. I decided to contribute; not because I partook (which I didn’t); after all it was a very basic cold buffet); but I felt that the group shouldn’t leave out of pocket when we got something for free. 

The Memories of Others

Maya Angelou: I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

How do you want to be remembered? What makes someone think of you? For many people it’s what you do that counts. You may say the wrong thing which puts them off from visiting you again. You may act in a manner that causes upset or even offence. If you belittle someone; are they going to remember the next time they address you? Are they going to comment on it; or will it cause a scene? A part of good character interaction is looking how each character views each other. Is there conflict, or is there joy? Will they forget and forgive? Have they forgot how you helped them out the last time they saw you? Will they take an interest in what you told them the last time you met and engage in that conversation? Or is something else going on in their lives that preoccupies them with other thoughts?  

The Brewer's Playground

Despite the huge scale of the brewery; they’ve allowed a baby brewery in their visitor’s centre. There could be four different beers fermenting here waiting to be decanted. It has a strange background of tiled brick; which reminds me of my old council swimming pool. The bricked floor gives an impression of someone’s driveway; giving the impression that they’re brewing somewhere in between their backyard and a large industrial plant. These top secret brews are sold only at the heritage centre for MDs and taste testers to sample before a decision is made as to whether to brew this particular recipe on a larger scale. It could even be where the visiting brewers from abroad come to visit for the Wetherspoon beer festival. But it’s all fenced off; and there’s too many novelty wheels to turn on the fermenter; suggesting that it’s like a mad scientist tinkering in his shed. But it’s way too clean; and it’s there as if it’s been put on show as a museum piece.

The Last Doughnut

There it is. The last doughnut. It’s sitting there quietly untouched in its glistening packaging. You know it’s not yours because you had one yesterday; and you don’t even know who brought them in. It’s yesterday’s food but it’s still there. Surely it’s polite to save it for whoever bought them. But will it go in someone’s tummy, or will it go in the bin? Or will the cleaner steal it for her breakfast? That’s the ultimate question because if the bin is going to win then surely you’re entitled to have a bite and make sure that it goes to a good home? It’s a shame to let it go to waste; but it’ll be more polite if someone else eats it. But is anyone brave enough to? Or is it best to let it go and walk away calmly knowing that you haven’t got a reputation of scavenging food off everyone. 

Grand Theft Lanyard

It was great fun to walk around a historic brewery, and I felt that I could really do with taking away a souvenir. But rather than having them out on show; they were locked away in ornate wooden display cases. And as the bar was pretty busy; it felt awkward and rude to hold everyone up just for the sake of the sale of a keyring. Oddly, we’d been given visitor passes which we were required to wear at all times, and we also had to sign in and out of the site. It would have been courteous to hand this back in; but this was too good a souvenir to return. So, on the pretence of doing up my shoelace; I slipped my lanyard holder into my bag. Luckily there was a crowd of people waiting to sign out; so the guard asked us to toss the passes into a bucket. I wonder what would have happened if I tried to roll a barrel underneath his window…

Stop the Bus! #dreamdiary40

I’m in Worcester. I’ve agreed to give a friend a lift home. It’s started to rain very heavily; luckily, we’ve got waterproofs with us. Instead of taking cover into a bus shelter in front of us; we very cheekily duck into an alleyway across the entrance to someone’s house. My friend is in and out in practically no time but my jacket is at the bottom of my bag so I take a little longer. Suddenly, a storm of people appears from outside the house and file straight past me into the alleyway below. One of them, a bald man with a goatee, has a glass of water with him which he pours all over me as I descend. ‘Oh, thanks’ I say. As the last person dashes past I prepare to leave but a wooden door gets slammed in my face. I look forward and see a woman walking round and getting into a cab in front. It’s then I realise that somehow I’ve boarded a bus. I start yelling for the driver to stop but he can’t hear me as he’s too busy talking to the woman in the cab. I turn around and ask a passenger where this bus is going, but all I can make out is a destination beginning with a G and ending in l. All I can do is to wait to see where I’m going. It doesn’t feel like a faraway destination; and it may actually be closer to where the car is. I decide to phone my friend when I get there when I learn a little more; though getting off may take some time as I have no ticket.

The Little One: Part 5 #scavenger10

Lee charged down the corridor skipping several doors. Any door containing a hostage would have a hatch so that the jailer could keep an eye on their captives; then again the room that Natalya was in might not haven been planned for that purpose. He halted at this thought and prepared to charge back the way he came; when suddenly he heard a sob. Female. Without hesitation he began pounding on the door.

‘Natalya! Natalya! British Forces!’ But there was no reply. There was also no handle or latch; just a traditional keyhole penetrating the lead-covered door. He would have to blow it open. Taking a very small ball of C4, he threaded in a fuse then stuffed the ball into the keyhole.

‘Stand back! I’m going to blow the door!’.

He retreated a few steps then lit the fuse. After a few seconds there was a large bang. Returning to the keyhole; Lee could see that the lock had moved; and taking a grip between the keyhole and the edge of the door, he managed to bend the lock out of position just enough to prise the door open.  

A staged interview on a stage...

So what do you do when your interviewer turns up late for your show? Do you let your audience sit there and twiddle your thumbs? Or do you take a deep breath and go out and meet them? And Matt chose the latter, which was absolutely fantastic. The trouble was that he then decided to try and find someone to replace his interviewer. This would truly be a test for someone; as you’d obviously need a few questions prepared to take the interviewer’s place. But amazingly; someone was duly selected; conveniently from the front row along with their burger. Not an item of choice to accompany a temporary interviewer; and while the mysterious lady was being miked up I began to wonder if this would work. At first it didn’t; we learnt all too much about the interviewee; but then all of a sudden she turned it around quite well and started to congratulate Matt on his work and she just seemed to know a little too much about him. I think the burger was a bit of a giveaway… 

The Little One: Part 4 #scavenger9

Lee charged up the metal stair frame. Prisoners were usually held on higher ground rather than lower ground so that if they did escape from their cell they had a greater chance of injuring themselves on the way down. Now that an attack had begun, he had very little time before the Arabs could activate the countdown to the nuclear detonator. As he reached the first floor, his ear started to buzz. He looked ahead and all was clear so he pressed the connect button.

‘Hi.’

‘Lee, it’s started. I don’t know what’s happened but it’s started. He’s actually carrying out his threat.’

‘It’s because of me. I’ve infiltrated the base. Had to make my own entrance.’

What? Why?’

‘Because the president is going to cave into his demands regardless. If there’s a chance that we can rescue Natalya then I’m going to take it.’

‘You know that’s against orders.’

‘But our orders are being undermined. They’re just delaying the inevitable.’

‘There’s a five minute countdown.’

Get onto control. Get them to deploy as many countermeasures as they can.’

‘OK. Out.’

Court Invasion #dreamdiary39

I’m playing badminton with some friends. Strangely, there’s four pallets of catalogues from work on the courts; and these books are in high demand. I think to myself that I could get these moved very quickly. There’s four courts and we split up for a game of doubles. I team up with a friend who says that he can’t move very fast and I tell him not to worry about it. We then warm up against a pair of ladies. We’re struggling to hit any shot apart from one which parks itself perfectly in the tramline. The older woman declares it’s out and I’m only realising that she’s right now because there’s no actual net on the court. Then the whole court is invaded by foreign people who just pour in and occupy every court and start to either play badminton or watch from the side lines. Everyone starts to invent wild excuses and leave; one friend says that he has plane to catch. Another has gone already without even saying goodbye. I walk round the hall with one of my colleagues tailing me; and retrieve my stuff. 

Memory Man by David Baldacci

Memory Man by David Baldacci
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

There’s probably thousands of detective novels out there and this story isn’t one that I would choose; it just ended up on my I-pad as a freebie. That said; this tells a stereotypical story of a depressed private dic and his troubled past; and ultimately how he battles his demons to get back on the waggon. It’s not very inspiring; each chapter is shortly written and there’s not enough suspense to keep the pages turning (or sliding in my case!). It wasn’t too hard to guess that the shooter had transformed their size; who would idolise a giant fat man? Then there’s the usual lack of teamwork between federal departments the need to keep all leads close to the troubled protagonist. The characters are introduced too slowly for you to have a guess at ‘whodunnit’; and I often thought it was the oddball journalist who gave up her 9-5 job to tail him almost everywhere; yet towards the end of the novel there’s no motive for her to be involved other than she’s just bored of her current situation. Even the final chase is nothing new; a man who is forced to take on the culprits alone without any form of back-up. Yes, it’s an origin story; but it’s nothing inspirational.

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