It’s alive!
Bureaucrash radio which features my show The Abyss is going live this weekend. It will be the only place you can hear tunes by G.o.D. and Mike’s Painkillers.
Speaking of G.o.D., the core members (ie, not including slacker/manager Jon P) are off to do some more rehearsing/finishing off songs tomorrow. We are currently demoing material for the album, and the songs are turning out rather well. Then I am off, with friend of G.o.D., Wolfie, to an Edwardian evening in Berkshire. It’s going to be a long day and I will have to be up before 11, but I am sure it will be fun.
2 commentsEnd of the year polls
It’s time to get voting for your fave blogs. I do hope you keep blog-friends of Dodgeblogium and us in your thoughts when you are voting.
Update: Kos fan-boys have been caught cheating. What is more pathetic that they are cheating or that they got caught?
2 commentsOnly in the Garudian
That bastion of socialist idiocy, The Garudian, has conducted, no doubt at great expense, a poll of their Muslim readers. It makes interesting, if confusing, reading, for, on the one hand, a majority of Muslims resident in the UK said they wanted “greater integration” into British Society. But they also wanted Islamic Law in the courts, rather than English Law. The two would seem to be irreconcilable; surely, if you left a country ruled by Islamic Law and sought a new life of opportunity in a non-Muslim country, to then want to bring the legal system which had so restricted the opportunities you wanted to that new country rather defeats your objective? How can you have greater integration into a society if you choose not to live by its values and laws?
This is surely exposing the heart of the problem with this ridiculous concept of “multi-culturalism” – it simply cannot work.
Read more Comments are off for this postWho Let The Dogs Out?
who let the dogs out?
woof, woof, woof, woof, woof
who let the dogs out?
—baha men
My sister and her husband moved from British Columbia and bought a new house here but they didn’t take possession until the end of September and they wanted to get the kids enrolled in school, so my sister and her three girls stayed here from the middle of August until then. (Hubby’s working up North.)
Oh, and also their two enormous dogs. One of the them, “Sam,” is some kind of collie mix. He displays herding behavior like zigzagging around from behind when you let him off his leash.
He’d probably make a good sheepdog, guarding the little lambies from wolves. Unless the wolves attacked with vacuum cleaners. He gets absolutely freaked out by vacuum cleaners. Tough luck then, lambies..
The other dog is allegedly a pure Black Labrador, but I think he’s got some . . . Shetland pony genes. He’s huge. Fortunately he’s also the gentlest big dog that I’ve ever known; the gentlest four-legged carnivorous eating machine that you’ve ever seen. Also one of the stupidest, as my sister reminded me as she tried to separate him from a handful of plastic-barreled Q-Tips he was attempting to ingest.
“Oh, these really aren’t good for him.” she said.
He fulfilled the role that dogs have played since time immemorial—to stand guard in the night where I least expected him, so that he might protect me from other jet-black beasts that I might trip over on the way to the john at 3 a.m.
As I lay broken and insensate on the living room floor “Butch” would indicate his concern by bringing over his favorite chew toy for my consolation. And you know what? It wasn’t half bad, once you got past the dog-slobber.
It all took me back to my childhood . . .
Memories
May be beautiful and yet
Whats too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget
—barbra streisand
I was probably four years old. I woke up excitedly on my birthday and rushed out to see what presents awaited. Naturally, I checked out the bathroom first. And there was my present! Wrapped in toilet paper on the top of the toilet tank! I hurriedly unwrapped it! I hurriedly rewrapped it! It was apparently something Mother forgot to flush!
Undaunted, I charged down the hallway into the living room, and there I found, silhouetted in the early light . . . a doggie! This would be the bestest birthday ever!
Now, unbeknownst to me, my aunt and uncle had come in from out of town late and were staying over, with their two newly-acquired German Shepherd police dogs, which had been recently decommissioned or drummed out of the K-9 Corps in disgrace or something.
Crying “A doggie!”; and then “two doggies!” I raced to embrace my new friends and then one of my new friends knocked me to the floor with a very big paw and sat on my chest.
And the other one sat on my face. When I started to squirm around, they’d bare their teeth and make growly noises, so I accepted my grim, muffled fate until the adults finally woke up and rescued me.
So that was my fourth birthday. No wonder I’m so screwed up.
Comments are off for this postFlop Sweat
Panic is setting in at the blog québécois Election HQ. Must. Write. Something.
Can’t. Write. Anything.
I’m dyin’ out here.
Oh, well. Go build an igloo while I try to think of something.
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