Riddle

What did the tiger...



...say to the okapi...



...about the tufted ducks?



Nothing, silly. They're in completely different parts of the zoo! But the ducklings managed to find a piece of sacking the gorillas had thrown into the pond and use it as a temporary island to rest on.

JaeJae was in full display-my-bits mode.



Melati was up a fake tree again.



The new okapi baby wouldn't leave its mum's side.



But the tufted ducklings did their habitual disappearing act under the water, while mum watched without concern. Tufties dive for so long, and travel such distances underwater, that you keep thinking they must have drowned!



Meanwhile a famous face was seen around the zoo. I was too proud to take a photo of that face, just snapping a rear view:



For those not good at identifying people from the back (and probably most of my non-British readers) here's a googled photo:

Yes, folks, it was Charles Dance.

Beast

Bobby the know-all in the pub quiz. Love it!

Baggage

For some reason I was drawn to this picture...

Badge

Let m kiss those lips.

The neighbours may object but...

...by feeding the foxes they see as vermin, this is the kind of thing I see in my garden.

It's a female fox with two of her cubs, and I think they were suckling, though they are a bit big for that!

Art

This is just about to start as I was writing this post.

Anti-Thesis

Lovely hand...

Amends

This was a great start to Season 7, though a tough one.

Whoops!

As a faithful supporter of the World Wildlife Fund, I was privileged a couple of weeks ago to receive an invitation to their London conference yesterday at ZSL (ie. London Zoo). I sent my acceptance, but heard no more, and forgot all about it till I checked my diary on Friday night.

Whoops indeed. If I'd realised a day sooner, I wouldn't have gone to the zoo on Friday, but would have done my weekend shop then, to leave me free for Saturday.

Well, I rushed the shopping, and managed (despite engineering works on the train lines delaying me) to get to the conference less that 40 minutes late.

It was about east Africa, both land and sea conservation projects. There was also a talk from Andy Hodge, a marine biologist who also happens to be a double Olympic gold medallist in rowing.

It was a joy to be among so many like-minded people. I even managed to ask a well-received and important question about the involvement of native women in their projects (every picture they showed was of men and boys). The reply reassured me that they are fully aware of the different roles of men and women in the various communities they deal with and make sure they approach the right people in the right way.

Part of the deal was free entry into the zoo, which of course I don't need, but it allowed me to nip in by the back door and capture a few more pictures of Melati posing on top of the giant climbing frame.

Showing off her bright orange back and stunning markings:




Displaying her fluffy chin:




Treating us to her beautiful profile:



All these poses struck within a couple of minutes.

Privileged indeed. Me, not her!

Alpha Dog

More curls!

Two Zoos

This week I've been to two different zoos - making hay while the sun (for a change) shone.

On Tuesday it was Howlett's in Kent, where they have the giant Siberian tiger Malchek. He's an old boy of 17 now, and he's really looking it. He knows where and when his grub's coming, though.



There's also a young girl cub sent over from the sister park to be hand raised. She and her brother were rejected, and it was only after they'd been rescued by staff that it became clear mother was right. He was epileptic, and when he failed to respond to treatment he had to be euthanized. SHe had brittle bones, and surgery has so far been only partially successful. Sadly they will be unable to include her in the gene pool.



Then there were the black lemurs. Only the male is actually black, but the tiny head of the baby one female was carrying was pretty dark. Difficult to get a clear picture though.






Today I've been to London Zoo again, and managed a few shots of JaeJae on the prowl. You can hear how excited he makes the crowd. If only those who destroy these creatures, and those who believe in the "medicine" nonsense, would appreciate them alive instead of colluding in their murder.

All In

No need to ask how we feel about this episode.

Only one good thing in it.

Darling in the dark.

Hellifax

One of the banks that had to rely on government intervention to stop it going under was the Halifax. I have banked with them for some time, and have not found them to be particularly clever. For example, when they sent me a letter containing my details and those of a complete stranger, saying one account was going to pay the credit card bill of the other in monthly payments, I phoned them up straight away so that it could be put right. All I asked was a couple of pounds put into my account to pay for the phone call. Their later letter refused, saying that, as they had already refunded me £12 over another of their mistakes, they didn't owe me anything! Pay for one mistake, get the other one free. After the intervention of the regulator, they paid me £100!

Well this time, I won't be laughing. Today I came home to a letter, dated 31st May, saying that on 3rd June and every month thereafter, they would be paying £995 from my account into the account of a total stranger. It obviously did not occur to them to check in advance the legitimacy of this uncharacteristically large sum, so by the time I heard about it my account was nearly £1000 light. That's close to four times the amount of my largest standing order, for the remainder of my mortgage. Yet it has been nodded through as though I did transactions like that every day, or indeed every month "until further notice".

Well I did notice, and they say that the money will be back in my account by close of business tomorrow. But if they find that it isn't a mistake by the bank or a fraudulent transaction, they will take it back again.

What the FUCK do these people think they are doing with MY money?

Albatross

The perfection of the Season 6 hair...

Acts of Contrition

I've gone back to A-Z mode, though my list doesn't include later series, so be prepared for some episodes to be missing for now.

I know this picture is ever popular.

Melati, Judge Judy and stuff I don't get.

JaeJae was too busy at the zoo on Friday trying to imagine how he could magic a giant tortoise into his mouth. Melati spent most of the day hiding, but towards the she was checking out the world in public view.






I am a recent follower of Judge Judy, mostly because I cannot believe - not just the things people sue one another over - but the differences in law and responsibility between our two nations, especially where things to do with cars are concerned.

There don't seem to be any rules about the condition a car ought to be in to be legally allowed on the road. People are suing over vehicles that would have been off the road decades ago. They are disputing insurance liability. And here I get really confused.

In a case broadcast today the statement was made that "the insurance follows the car". So you can lend your car to anyone (presumably with a licence) and your insurance covers the car as driven by them. They can write it off and not owe you a penny.

Well, folks, see if you prefer the UK version.

It's the driver who is insured. They can be insured for more than one car, and they can insure a car for more than one driver. This allows new young drivers to be insured on their parents' policies instead of paying more than the price of a car just to drive one. The pricier and faster the car, the more the insurance costs.

I can buy insurance that allows only me to drive just my car; I can allow another (named) person, or anyone I choose later, to drive my car. I can apply my insurance to any car I am qualified to drive. I can insure my car third party only, third party fire and theft, or fully comprehensive. The cost on these various options will vary. And I can phone my insurance broker at any time to vary my cover.

But I cannot decide on the spur of the moment to let someone else drive my car unless that is the kind of insurance I have taken out. I would expect them to be insured to drive it, and wouldn't let them anywhere near it if they couldn't prove that to me.

If the bright sparks on Judge Judy are anything to go by, a lot of folks in the US have NO idea what their insurance is and what it can and can't do.

Add to that our MOT test (stand for Ministry of Transport) which every car legally on the road must pass annually once it reaches the grand old age of 3 years. No bangers on our roads! I hope...

I'm glad I'm over here.

More Valentino

One of my earliest video efforts, using Eliza's pictures. The music just seemed so appropriate.

Still can't believe Ray Davies played it at Buckingham Palace for the Queen's Silver Jubilee.

The Velocity of Gary

A change from the usual film still - a video of the D'Elicious Mr D'Onofrio, alias Valentino, snogging everyone that moves.

Only 68,000+ views on YouTube...

A Cop Programme in Search of a Hero

Taggart is the strangest cop show in the history of the genre. Set in Glasgow, and first broadcast in 1983 with Mark McManus as the dour detective, the last episode of Taggart was broadcast less than 3 years ago - even though McManus died in 1994!

I was a great fan throughout its lengthy run, with two other senior detectives taking over the team, but under their "own" names. Taggart himself was as dead as McManus.

From quite early on there was a regular female character, but despite the promotion of male cops around her, she never made it above Detective Sergeant. In 20 bloody years!

It's gone now. Why it was called Taggart probably puzzled younger viewers. TV producers, eh?

The Whole Wide World

Beautiful, troubled Bob.

Let's suck something

Can't think what. Nothing as small as that button nose...

Reality Check Needed

Every other crime show has a devilish bank robbery as its major crime, often with hostage situations in there with the robbery.

Is there really that much bank robbery going on in the US? 'Cos I can't remember that last time there was one in the UK.

Have we made it so difficult the crooks no longer even try? And if we have, maybe our friends across the Pond should have a look at what we're doing right for once!

Thumbsucking some more

Oh yes.

Savagery in the name of religion

A soldier, Drummer Lee Rigby, hacked to death in a London street. The murderers, purporting to be Muslims, talking to anyone who would film them on their mobile phones. The blood of the victim still on their hands and weapons.

The vicious killers waiting around for the police to arrive (some say 20 minutes later, even though the police station is just around the corner; even the police say 14 minutes) so that they could advance on them and get shot. Women passers-by approaching the victim hoping they could help or protect him, but he was already dead, almost beheaded.

Really, who wants to live in a world like this?

I am even more certain that religion is only ever, ultimately, a force for evil. Let's leave the caves and acknowledge that we no longer need this mythology to make sense of the world. Because on days like this, it clearly only makes nonsense of the world.

Thumbsucker

Nice, normal Mike.

I haz a blankie!

JaeJae has a new comfort blanket. It looks to me like the fleece from the recently shorn llamas.

He loves it.

I'd really like to snuggle up next to him. Even if it cost an arm and a leg...

The Winner

Phillip's such a loser.

Vincent is a giant playing a little weed. Brilliant acting. But that hair...

Is it time to rest yet?

Another b****** of a week.

Monday was a wash-out because of the weather. Up at sparrow fart in case of a last-minute job, of which there was none, so spent the day faffing around and dozing.

On Tuesday I got the call to go to the Sixth Form site of an autistic school I often teach at. Edgy but nice. They are only two weeks into their new building and are still settling down. Maybe tomorrow it will be sunny and I can go to a zoo or something.

But no. In the late afternoon a call from an agency set me up for a day's work on Wednesday, at a Pupil Referral Unit in the Royal Borough of Greenwich. (A PRU is for the kids expelled from mainstream schools for chronic behaviour problems.) Spent hours agonising on which of about five routes would be best.

On the day, almost every route was clogged with traffic jams, so I kept ignoring the Satnav and eventually arrived in good time...to find the promised street parking was residents only. Sent to a nearby road and all was well. Spent two big chunks of the day sitting with a reasonably well-behaved boy while he took an exam. Finished just after 2.30, which was lucky, as I just had time to do a supermarket shop on the way home, before taking myself off to a local meeting, followed by a farewell drink for our co-ordinator, who has lost his job due to cuts.

Thursday had already been booked for the school where I do my regular Fridays. A couple of the kids were hyper, and the day ended I headaches for all staff. Wanted to go straight home for a relaxing rest, but pet supply shopping came first.

Friday was a bit less fraught than Thursday, but the evening was not very relaxing as I kept remembering my Saturday afternoon concert.

The theme was Spring (wishful thinking)  and the accompanist had found a copy of the song I wanted to sing (Tulips From Amsterdam) but had forgotten to bring it with him. Then I discovered that my alternative (Here Comes The Sun) was down as an "also", so I ended up singing both.

More shopping on the way home, collapsed in front of the TV to find...nothing much worth watching, as I'd already missed the LOCI Season 10 reruns.

Hey Ho.

The Taking of Pelham 123

The mean, moody and magnificent Mr Blue. Why do we all like bad boys?

The Player

Poor David Kahane. Killed by mistake. Typical Vincent role!

This film always gets good write-ups when it's on TV, but I'm not a fan.

The New Tenants

Jan. Shortest ever role. Poor guy.

The Narrows

At last, a film in which he makes it to the end in one piece - and rather jubilant.

Vinny Manadoro is a great character.

Kill The Irishman

Horror of horrors! I don't have the pictures from this film on Photobucket!

We'll have to be satisfied with this production photo of John Nardi.

The Investigator

Ephraim McDougall. Not a name to conjure with. But what a sweet character.

The Cell

Poor, scared Carl. I can't believe I sympathise with a serial killer!

Education US and UK Style

Time after time I watch aghast as TV shows show US university life. Women students demeaning themselves on "spring break", or even getting murdered. "Campus police" dealing with serious crimes without reference to the real police. Hazing rituals to gain entry to sororities and fraternities.

What planet is this? I can't speak for Oxford and Cambridge with their strange clubs (like the Bullingdon Club that our glorious leaders Cameron and Osborne graced with their illustrious presence and recruit those who will continue to "lead" us in future) but British universities otherwise don't have these weird anachronisms.

Anyone who's ever watched Morse knows that the real police handle crimes even in Oxford colleges. There is no such thing as spring break. Instead we have the Easter vacation, when we either go home for a month to study or relax, or work to earn much-needed funds.

As for sororities and fraternities, there is no such thing. Some universities are collegiate, and these colleges create alliances and loyalties. But this "pledging" - unless, as I say, some Oxbridge colleges have such ancient, occult and arcane practices that the outside pleb does not get to hear about - is thankfully absent from our places of higher education.

Now Freshers week...that's another matter. How to introduce new students to life away from home and drown their homesickness in pools of alcohol and vomit. You can sign up for clubs - sports, political, theatrical, apathy (no one bothers to turn up for meetings). There are outings to places where you can get blotto, often with benefit of free beer tickets.

The drinking games help - Bunnies and Fizzbuzz have always been popular. For those unfamiliar, in Bunnies, the Bunny Master waggled fingers either side of the head like bunny ears, and the person either side waggles the hand nearest the Master, who then points across the circle where the person they point at and their neighbours repeat the performance. Any mistake is subject to forfeit, usually a substantial swig of booze. Hence, the longer the game goes on, the drinker the players get, the more mistakes they make and the more hilarity is caused.

Fizzbuzz is an altogether more intellectual game. The players go round the circle counting, replacing every number with 5 in, or multiple of 5, with Fizz, and ditto 7 with Buzz. Numbers containing or being multiples of both are replaced with Fizzbuzz. The Master can reverse the order, just to make matters more complicated. Any mistake is also punished with alcoholic intake.

When I was a second year helping the Freshers to relax, we were in the Lake District at a posh hotel (one of many places we were never allowed back to...) and followed up with rowing boat trips out on to Windermere, the largest of the lakes. The people on my boat spent the next hour trying to strand one another on the many islands we landed on.

Happy days.

The Break Up

Sorry for the squished up head. Another of those cases where I got the capture ratio wrong...

Still, Dennis Grobowski is a sweet character.

That Championship Season

Phil Romano. The only member of this midget cast capable of being mistaken for a basketball player.

That Was The Week That Was

No, not the 1960s satirical show that launched David Frost's career. Just my week so far. Stick with it, it's worth it.

Monday was a write-off. I had a 2.10pm appointment for a lumbar x-ray to support my boob reduction case.

I got up at sparrow-fart on Tuesday in case I got a call to work, but hoping I could spend a sunny day at the zoo. I got a call to work. On the way home I spent the day's pay (which I don't receive till next week) on vet supplies.

I got up just as early on Wednesday in case I got a call to work, but hoping I could spend a sunny day at the zoo. I got a call to work.

This is casual as-and-when work, for an ASD school I've worked for a lot, but it moved over Easter into a brand spanking new building.

I don't know if US schools still have these in their classrooms (no, not Bobby's hand, the blackboard) but in Britain they are long gone.



We've had interactive whiteboards pretty well everywhere for about 15 years, and before that most places had drywipe whiteboards rather than messy chalk. Well, this school has super-deluxe models where the computer, DVD player, USB ports, electric controls for the windows and anything else you can think of are built in.



The teacher controls it with a remote keyboard which is about a third of the size of a laptop keyboard.



It is the most frustrating instrument I have ever had the misfortune to work with.

The buttons top left are the left and right mouse clicks. The ball at top right is the cursor mover, the rest of the ouse function, I guess. It is the most inexact, difficult to control piece of shit any man could have dreamed up (don't tell me it might have been a woman, we all know it couldn't be so).

There are lots of great sensory things in the playground, but sandpits? The younger kids spend all their breaktime putting it down their own and their friends' necks. Only a matter of time till it goes in some eyes...

Then there are the flower beds. The plants, which haven't rooted yet, never will, as they are a convenient handful to pull out and throw around.

Well, as there is a lot of walking to be done in this new building, and I was standing around cooking for a lot of the time, I was pretty exhausted by the end of Wednesday. But luckily Thursday dawned warm and sunny, and there was no call to work, so off I went to the zoo.

It was worth waiting for.

Firstly, the new male gorilla, Kumbuka, was with young Mjukuu for about the first time. They showed a professional level of acting indifferent. He looks at her, she looks away. He looks away, she looks at him. She circles round him. He pretends not to notice. He sits around nonchalantly, she gathers sacks and carries them up to the highest perch she can find.

I don't think he quite gets alpha male dominance yet.





Jae Jae was being particularly fetching. His back was to the window, then he rolled over towards the glass and treated us to these views of his beauteousness.





Jae Jae's enrichment included a piece of meat on top of his climbing frame, with a trail of blood leading to it. I stitched three pieces of video together and shut off the volume, but couldn't convert it into anything usable, so here are three pieces of rough footage for which you might want to turn down the keeper's commentary which is interspersed with crowd noise.

He follows the trail.



He makes his "kill".



He chomps his prize.

Stuart Saves His Family

The very BIG Mr Smalley. Donnie's not Vincent's best look.

Can't disguise those curls though...

Strange Days

Burton Steckler. Woof. Yummy bad cop.

Steal This Movie

Abby. Aaaaah!

Leftovers

There was this wonderful comedy programme years ago called The Young Ones, which had some completely disparate student types sharing a house.

The long-haired hippie Neil, played by Nigel Planer, was supposed to be preparing the meal one day. He emptied the kitchen bin on the table, and when one of the others asked him what it was, he said, "Leftovers".

Well, the genius that is Richard Benyon MP, a Tory politician who likes us all to be "in it together" (as long as they and their rich friends are excused) has been giving advice to those in food poverty. Obviously as a rich twat he must be an expert on this subject.

He said the poor waste too much food. They should eat their leftovers. And cheese lasts a lot longer if you wrap it properly before putting it back in the fridge.

Well, thank you for that. I assume that those on benefits will now be receiving clingfilm with their benefits, as they could not afford to buy that and the cheese to wrap in it. Actually, don't bother, they probably can't afford the cheese either.

As for leftovers, the poor would probably be better off if Mr Benyon and his rich friends donated their leftovers (preferably without putting them in the bin first then retrieving them).

I tweeted Mr Benyon this morning asking him for his potato peelings, carrot scrapings, onion skin and gristle stir fry recipe, but so far he hasn't replied.

This surprises me, because I ran out of characters in my tweet after getting as far as "patronising c"

No prizes for guesing what the "c" was for.

Meanwhile I'm off to get my leftovers out of the bin. I suppose I have to wash them before eating them. I don't think the cat litter they share the bag with has much goodness in it.

Staten Island

Parmy's a favourite. He loved his mother!

Spanish Judges

Max. A time when Vincent could do baldness better.