Endgame - Day 4

A rare smile - even rarer as it's thanks to Frank!

Lucky You!

You didn't hear this joke on the radio and nearly crash your car.

Question: How many men does it take to wallpaper a bathroom?
Answer: Three, as long as you slice them very thinly.

Endgame - Day 3

The strain of dealing with Brady is already showing.

Endgame - Day 2

Above and beyond the call of duty - our Bobby visits Wally Stevens.

Endgame - Day 1

A mountain to climb. Please.

In the centenary year of Titanic 1...

...0ne idiot crew presents Titanic 2 - The Italian Job.



Their evacuation drill included: Women and Children Last and The Captain Gets Off The Ship First.

Let's hope the 40 missing are still alive somewhere inside and are brought out alive, like the 3 survivors the hero divers already rescued.

Rocketman - Day 7

I wish he'd hug me like he does that case.

Rocketman - Day 6

It was SOOOOOOO hard to capture this sweet moment!

Rocketman - Day 5

I just want to sink my finger into that adorable tum!

Fate Intervenes

This interesting purple slipcase for Season 6, with the even more interesting Dutch writing, was to have been my Region 2 version of the DVDs (I've been capping and posting from the Region 1 copies) but it was not to be.

A large gouge in the envelope went right through and damaged the box inside. So, for the first time, I have to return an item to Amazon. Pretty good going really.

It's not currently available (obviously Bobby is popular in The Netherlands, unless other Brit Vixens have also been in action...yes Diane, I know, you sent me the link!), so they cannot replace it. I think I'll take the hint of Fate and wait till it comes out in Region 2 English version.

Season 7, which I only had on home-made DVDs complete with watermarks etc, arrived in the same envelope in perfect external condition, which is lucky. Or again, did Fate arrange things this way?

Rocketman - Day 4

The face of a man making intelligent enquiry.

And of a sex god.

Rocketman - Day 3

Dignified and statesmanlike.

Till I rip his clothes off...

Rocketman - Day 2

Pocket Rocket Alert!

Rocketman - Day 1

Thinks: How can I make women hot for me?

Well, that pose is a great start!

Silencer - Day 7

Poor baby has a cold. Can I breathe for you, sweetheart?

Silencer - Day 6

Man-hunk alert - shoulders as wide as the world.

Silencer - Day 5

Peekaboo!

Silencer - Day 4

Just how does he look so gorgeous all the time?

Silencer - Day 3

Curls, eyelashes, lips and stubble. What more could a Vixen ask for? (OK, naked body...)

Justice At Last

Almost 19 years ago, in April 1993, this young man, Stephen Lawrence, age 17, was murdered by a gang of youths in Eltham in London, stabbed to death at a bus stop. I remember seeing it reported on Teletext almost immediately as a racist murder, but strangely the police didn't treat it as such. After all, Stephen and his friend Duwayne Brooks were black, weren't they? It must be a drug thing.

With this mindset, the police couldn't help but mess up the investigation, and it was far too long before they took it seriously enough to harvest evidence.

Even when they started to investigate in earnest, they failed to achieve a conviction, and the case was dismissed due to insufficient evidence. As a result of the case, a lengthy public enquiry took place which concluded that there was institutionalised racism in the Metropolitan Police. Stephen's parents took out a private case against those believed to be the perpetators, but this too failed.

Four years ago the police began a review of the case, which led to these men, Gary Dobson and David Norris, being brought to trial. The reporting of the trial has been painful, as mistake after mistake by the police and forensics experts were highlighted. It sounded as if cross-contamination would lead to an acquittal. Then there was the forensics expert who had deliberately taken the labels off evidence when he lost his job.

Today, at last, these rabid racists have been found guilty. Three of the original five gang members have still not been brought to justice. But at least, tonight, two aging thugs are behind bars for this savage crime, and the Lawrences finally have some measure of closure.

The bus stop where the attack took place has a memorial plaque, which has been vandalised and now has a security camera trained on it.

Stephen had wanted to be an architect, and the Stephen Lawrence Architectural Centre stands a mile or so from here, its aim to encourage young people in their pursuit of a career in architecture. Even before it was finished, the expensive patterned plate glass was vandalised, and stood boarded up for what seemed like years. I wish that could be the end of such evil.

Silencer - Day 2

I love to see him hunkered inside his warm jacket.

The Wrong Arm of the Law

Solicitors (for my non-UK readers, these are lawyers of the workaday, but still very well-off, kind, who handle home conveyancing and wills, rather than the people who represent you in court, who are called barristers) should of course be upright, honest and capable of keeping one's business to themselves.

As my will needs rewriting, I walked into an office in the local shooping centre and made an appointment. "You'ree lucky," I was told, "We have 10% off will-writing at the moment." As prices were from £85, this seemed to be quite a good deal.

On receipt of the first draft, I was informed that the cost would be over £100, so when I returned the draft for amendment, I asked for a breakdown. This bill duly announced that the cost was £85.50 including the 10% discount, plus VAT (Value Added Tax) at 20%. Mmmm.

Included in the pack there was also a document from somenone else's file, complete with her name and phone number.

Today I phoned her and told her how I came by her number. She was not pleased. What's more, she is being charged the "standard fee of £85" (no mention of discount). So apparently this company is dishonest, incompetent AND breaks confidentiality.

Think I'll go elsewhere. But hey, thanks guys for the draft, so I can present the completed article to the new firm.

Silencer - Day 1

I'm sure this shot was never intended to be frozen for all time, and for our delectation. Yet here it is!

Brother's Keeper - Day 7

Don't worry, Bobby, it's not Frank, just the sucker he sold your coat to.



Happy New Year, everyone!

Ghostly Encounter?

OK, I know he lived to 100, and died over 8 years ago, but I saw Bob Hope at the shops today.

No, not that Bob Hope. The Bob Hope was born in Eltham, part of the London Borough of Greenwich. The Bob Hope I saw was born in the north of England, he only lives in Greenwich.

I worked with him at Kidbrooke School, also in the London Borough of Greenwich. He's retired now, having taught at the school for decades, and the closest he came to the Hollywood of his namesake was teaching this man:

Because Jude Law went to Kidbrooke Shool.

And of course, Jamie Oliver did his School Dinners programme there.

No wonder Americans think all the English know each other.

Brother's Keeper - Day 6

Poor baby looks so unhappy when he hears there's nothing that can be done for his mummy.

Brother's Keeper - Day 5

This was a tough one to catch. It's blurred. It's poorly composed. But it's his tongue in full flick.

Brother's Keeper - Day 4

When Bobby Met Frankie.

Pengies and Cubs

No prizes for guessing where I went today.

The new penguin exhibit has been open since May, but these are the first pictures I've taken of the residents.










For a while I could only see one cub, who was sitting with dad. Then mum gave them both a feed.



Finally mum took a rest while big sister supervised a bit of meat-eating.

Brother's Keeper - Day 3

Don't frown, baby, let Val kiss it better. Whatever "it" is.

Planners' Folly

The friend I spent Christmas Day with lives a 30-mile drive away, and to get there part of my journey is along the M25 London Orbital motorway. This bridge runs across it at a place called
Polhill. For generations Polhill was a place of beauty, where families would go in spring to pick bluebells. Then the developers decided in their wisdom to reduce it to a cutting on the motorway.

The story is that, when planning the motorway and its crossings, exits and entries, thsoe responsible looked at a map, and at this site saw a line. "Aha!" they said, "There's a road. We must build a bridge across the motorway to accommodate it." And so they built this award-winning scissor arch bridge.

Sadly, the line on the map was just...a line on a map! A multi-million pound line. No one checked it on the ground. If you google bridges on the M25, you find that the Kent Sub Unit of South East Road Construction Unit takes responsibility for the design of what is described as a "pedestrian bridge, the Polhill Bridleway". I have never Seen anything on the bridge, nor have I tried to find the way on to it, but if there is a way, it's certainly well hidden. Well, at that price, I suppose they can afford to hide their mistake.

Brother's Keeper - Day 2

Just a hint of a smile - but enough to melt the heart.

Brother's Keeper - Day 1

He wants me to talk - I'll talk!

Christmas Day Albatross

I don't have any interesting photo editing or creative software on my computer (been disappointed too many times) so it's just Plain Bobby (if there is such a thing!) for Christmas Day.

I think he just realised he forgot to send our Christmas cards.

Albatross - Day 7

Lookit da CURLS!

Albatross - Day 6

Come to bed eyes. Only one answer to give them...

Feeling Smart

A couple of weeks ago, I signed up with my energy company to be part of an electricity smart meter test, and today the meter was fitted. It's in the regular place under the stiars, and it uses a mobile phone connection to communicate with the supplier. So it can be read by remote interrogation, and can even receive text messages from them.

It also includes this gadget which lets me monitor my energy use by money, consumption or carbon emissions. I can follow my energy use by the day, week, month or year. (Well, as I've only had it for a day, I can just follow it by the day at the moment!)



Everyone will have to have one of these by 2020, and a smart gas meter will be tested as soon as the viability of the electricity one has been proved.

I do have certain reservations, such as what will happen to the meter readers and other people whose roles will be taken over by technology. The energy company said it will retrain them, but at what point do you just run out of jobs to retrain people for?

Throwing caution to the wind

Earlier in the year, when I realised I had gazillions of pairs of earrings and they just weren't getting enough wear, I had a second hole pierced in each ear. I imagine you can guess what happened next - I started to buy more earrings! So now I'm back to square 1.

I've been thinking about getting a third set of holes done, but kept putting it off. Well, today, I went for it. Imagine these amethyst studs as just tiny dots a couple of millimetres across and you have the idea.

Now I have to wonder what will happen if they get sore or infected over the impending 3-day holiday...

Albatross -Day 5

Post 3,401.

Another deservedly well-known and iconic picture. So fuckable.

Extreme Recycling

Once upon a time everyone used to take their own shopping bags with them when they went to the shops. Drinks were bought in returnable glass bottles with refundable deposits. The streets were not full of non-degradable items that people couldn't be bothered to put in bins - and there was a bin on almost every lamppost.

Then there were no bins in the street, or at railway stations. They were deemed a security threat after the IRA put bombs in bins. People bought fast food and ate it as they walked along. They discarded the packaging where they stood, with no idea of taking it home with them. What we did take home went into the dustbin, which was emptied into a landfill. The whole developed world became a giant litter bin.

There are still precious few bins in the street, but what there are are often ignored, usually overfull, and do little to improve the state of our cities. The countryside is not much better, with people winding down their car windows to throw out their cigarette packets and sweet wrappers. They even throw out lit cigarettes in hot, dry weather, causing fires alongside our motorways. Most people rely on supermarket carrier bags by the dozen, unthinkingly accepted, frequently discarded before they even reach home, choking our rivers, polluting even the oceans so that the fish people eat has bits of plastic in it.

But we can now recycle much more stuff (of course, not using stuff in the first place, and the energy it takes to make it, and the energy it takes to recycle it, is better, but still) and in fact my own local council has just taken out a contract with a new, better recycling company.

But with the price of all kinds if metals so high, scrap yards are having a field day. I was glad when a load of scrap metal collected from my back garden disappeared from its pile in my front garden within a couple of days. It was intended to. I wouldn't have been so happy about it, though, if I could have foreseen how appalling the problem was about to become.

Daily, we hear about disruption to trains because electrical wiring to the signals has been stripped out. Operations in hospitals have to be cancelled because power cables have been stolen. People's phones are disabled. Church roofs leak with theft after theft of lead flashing. Scrap yards are uncontrolled, and the government, rather than push through legislation begun by the previous administration, just has to make new laws of its own, and is in no hurry to do so.

A few years ago, before the problem became so widespread and serious, a Henry Moore sculpture was stolen from a sculpture park. Now a Barbara Hepworth has been hacked from its plinth in a south London park.

Whatever its price as scrap, the sculpture itself is valued at a quarter of a million pounds.

But not for much longer.

Post Script. I just heard a load of hammering in the street and looked out to find three men with various wheeled trolleys full of metal bashing away at a TV or some such item in a skip outside a house, trying to get the insides out. They also vaulted over someone's garden wall in search of metal stuff to recycle. Given that they didn't seem to have any idea of what was potentially theirs and what was other people's, I called the police. They didn't sound very interested.

What a surprise.

And if they were the ones who stole the Hepworth? Tough.

Albatross - Day 4

So appealing.

The Sky's The Limit

Or rather, Sky is the limit.

Last week, an episode of Criminal Minds on Sky Living was in its final quarter. It was a bit odd that the scene that should be showing was in a box at the bottom of the screen while other things were going on on the main screen. But then just as the demented dad was saying goodbye to his sick, dying son there was a voice-over, loud and prolonged, advertising the next programme, that drowned the moving dialogue out completely.

I managed to find a way to email them (they make it as difficult as possible), but recorded the programme on +1 and next day confirmed that they hadn't changed a thing. So I'll never hear the tear-jerking words spoken in that scene.

And the reply from Sky? "Thank you for your email regarding Criminal Minds.I can confirm your comments have been noted and passed on to Sky Living for there attention!!!

So not only do they employ unqualified amateurs in their continuity and technical departments, they pay people to answer emails - and be their interface with the public - who have very little grasp of correct English.

And for this "service" we pay.

Albatross - Day 3

There's no logical reason why this picture should be so sexy.

Albatross - Day 2

We continue with a classic Bobby head position, offering up the lovely neck we so want to nuzzle.

Degrees of Vincent

While watching The King's Speech today for the first time, I spotted a thespian who made me realise that Colin Firth is just 2 degrees away from our beloved.

And here's the reason why:

The fabulous Claire Bloom played King George IV's mother, Queen Mary, in the film, and we all know her part in Season 3.

Albatross - Day 1

Back to Season 6 for some fine Christmas Bobby, and a shot we all know very well:

Look, we growed!

We are NORMOUS!

Doing It Wrong

For some reason, my cats have always treated this igloo bed like a flat surface rather than a dome, and lie on top rather than crawl inside.

Add to that Beano's strange notion that he can hug Mitzi with his back leg, and you have a perfectly silly situation that is totally cat.

16-23

SOunds a bit like an 18-30 holiday, only worse.

Luckily this is much better!

More 4

Episodes 9-15 remembered.

Season 4 revisited

I can't even remember making this series of videos from Season 4's episodes, but obviously I did, 'cos here is the first.

T-Z

End of the road - for now.

PS

Here are the P-S episodes:

H2O

No, not water, the next section of alphabet in my collection.