Fiddlers and passers-by

Have you seen the Mitsubishi Pajero? These over-sized chelsea tractors are the Japanese imports of the Mitsubishi Shogun. And unfortunately, the Japanese aren't tremendously clever with their names.

The aim was to name the car after a horse and because both the car and horses are so obviously spanish, the company wanted it to be horse in spanish.
The intended name was "Pajaro" to mean pony, which instead means parrot. And due to an apparent spelling error in Mitsubishi's admin department it was named the "Pajero" which litterally translated from spanish means "One who fiddles with himself". In other words, flash-cash 4x4 owners everywhere are driving around with the word "Wanker" painted across their car in big letters.

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I've been fascinated recently at how many people we crash into and have encounters with in our day to day lives. People we've never met before and will probably never meet again.

Yesterday, travelling to see my girlfriend by train, I was asked "Excuse me, are you ok?" by a girl who could see the obvious look of puzzlement on my face at the announcement that the train I was to catch was only stopping at a station half way before the one i wanted to get off at. She told me that she was making the same journey and what was happening with train changes. She was very kind and we stuck together until after we were on the second train.

Another man, on my second train, offered his mobile phone for me to use, seeing that I was having trouble with signal on my own.

Call me soppy, but I was truely touched by how friendly and kind these people were.

After helping the gentleman with his bag off the train, I said thank you and left. Probably never to see him again.

What a shame.

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Sleeping habits and digital photography.

I'm going to start this one nice and simply. I sleep naked. People often think of me as wierd for doing this. However, there are many substantial benefits.
The first of which is that it increases your general health. By having no fabric or tight elastic distracting you, you are able to get more comfortable and are eased into a deeper state of sleep. This deeper, longer sleep makes it easier for your body to repair itself, regenerate and build energy.
Sleeping naked also increases the state of calm throughout the day and allows you to relax more easily. The combination of this increased level of calm and a better nights sleep, mean that concentration is at a higher level and the mind is in more of a state to work and thinking.

There are also many sexual benefits. Sleeping naked with a partner can heighten the level of intimacy between you, resulting in better and more frequent sex.
The cooler conditions have also been found to increase fertility in men.

So, despite the fact that someone may walk in on you, or that you'd be caught out in an emergency, I urge you all to sleep naked. This will result in a happier, better world.

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I have been supremely impressed with the Pentax K20D I bought nearly a week ago. I've taken some stunning shots with it and hopefully will continue to do so.
Here's another example of said pictures:

The horror of summer in a small market town.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that time of year has swung round again. It's time for those in their boats and croc sandles to grace us with their prensence and swan among us, our overlords, our customers, our income. Yes, I'm talking about Grockels. Those loud mouthed yuppies with all the fashion sense of a delirious goldfish. And much less common sense to boot.
I understand that they're needed for our local economy. But is it really necessary for them to arrive in cars that would rival a cruiseliner in a width contest? What's more, with their floppy wigs hanging in their eyes, the can't see out of the backs of their jerk mobiles to reverse. And with their black-out sunglasses, the blighters are unable to see that they are infact 2 feet away from the hedge, making unsuspecting locals drive through the hedge and possibly into the field on the other side.

The large part of their visit that hacks me off, is that the grockel season is the only time of year when anything interesting happens. During the winter, there's nothing for anyone around the coastal fishing villages to do. When the sun comes out and the beaches are warm enough to sit on, and there are local events being held... BAM! The grockels swarm and swamp the beaches, giving the locals the damp, crowded part in the shade at the end of the beach and congregate infront of the event, giving locals the back to stand and stretch their necks as the peer among a forrest of pink hats and glasses straps.

As a friend of mine once wrote on a t-shirt, wearing it as he sailed up the Salcombe estuary at height of season:

"DIE YUPPIE SCUM"

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On a slightly lighter note, here's a picture:



Taken with my brand new dslr. More to come possibly.

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Dangerous birds and strange driving habits

Only in Devon could you cycle along a country lane and come across a sign saying "Beware of ducks and poultry". It's true that the common mallard has become a new kind of guard pet, easily able to fend off most foxes and a number of small children, not to mention the numerous vicious attacks on the public by rabid chickens. Thinking of beefing up the home security? Pop down to your local duck farm and pick up a couple.

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On my travels, having just frightened an innocent looking horse, I was passed by a ford fiesta. Nothing unusual about that.
However, hanging out of all three passenger windows were a young girl and two older boys. The woman driving acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, as they sped off up the hill at 40 miles an hour.

Only in Devon...

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Funny little stories and crap translation.

Today I re-found two pieces of writing that I rather like.
The first is in the introduction to a book by Garth Nix, it's a story he wrote at the age of six.

"A boy went outside
it started raining coins
he picked them up"

Now, I'm not one for english work by year twos, but I think that's genuinely touching and excellent. It's simple but at the same time, meaningful.

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The second piece of writing, I found in an old notebook of mine. I had noted down some funny signs posted around china that a friend had shown me, on her return from a trip out there.
In an airport, she had seen:

"Hurtle to adjust your beverage"

Does this mean "No drinks whilst flying through the air"? Or more "Throw yourself at a passer by, in the hope they'll quench your thirst"?

Another was found in a town.

"Hot an egg yolk parties"

This, I believe, is the equivalent of a spa, or an Avon party. Although, in china, they obviously find chicken ovules more theraputic than bath bombs and nail polish.

The last one is my favourite, positioned appropriately on a section of the great wall of china that had fallen into disrepair. It said precisely this:

"Slip and fall down carefully"

It's nice to know that they want you to be safe, whilst breaking both of your legs.

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Chocolate buttons and those lazy hazy crazy days of summer.

Do you remember chocolate buttons from when you were little? I know, they're still around today. But as a child, there was something magical about them. You could pop one in your mouth, and the incredible cadbury's chocolatey goodness would cover your entire tongue. It was like a giant slab of chocolate in those days.
More recently, however, I've found that when eating chocolate buttons, they don't quite fill my mouth in the same way. It's a miniscule amount of chocolate.
Happily, I've found giant chocolate buttons. And I've been reliving that wonderous experience ever since. Although, I've noticed that mothers have been feeding their younguns said giant buttons. Therefore, for these children to grow up and rediscover, love and cherish their fondest childhood memories, Cadbury's are going to have to produce Giant Giant chocolate buttons.
Until mothers begin feeding these to their children, and the whole story unfolds with a tedious inevitability.
I predict that in 100 years time, chocolate buttons will be bus-sized.

Today's question: Is Nat King Cole not the best?

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Washing up, Cheesecake and interesting lines.

I'm sitting up, still pumping with adrenaline from my shift at work, eating some of Dave's cheesecake. Really, I'm shitass tired. I ache from toe to shoulder and I could use a good night's sleep. I won't be able to sleep though.

Over a week away from work has left me realising that washing up is not only theraputic, but is also rather good at combatting spots. I'm now not working for over two weeks, while I'm on exam leave, and despite liking the idea of having even more free weekends, I suspect I'll miss it. Of course, when I return, I'll grow weary very quickly.

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Earlier, I remembered a quote I once read in the booklet of Afi's "Decemberunderground" that has always made me ponder:

"What's the cat to do when the mouse is begging?"

I don't know what it is, but there's something about that line that always hits something deep inside of me. But I'm probably reading too much into it.

This cheesecake is really rather delicious.

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First blog, Swine flu.

As this is a first blog, I've got about a million things I want to say. I'll stick to just one.

Yes, the dreaded swine flu is rife and you're all going to die.
Stay indoors, lock up your children and wear six face masks, just to be on the safe side.
If caught out of doors when the beast rears it's ugly, snot ridden face, make sure you're carrying a can of common sense and spray liberally.
Stop panicking, fools.


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