Switch off

I rarely, if ever watch television. Especially not ever patronising, biased news programmes. I get the information I want through the web, without having to go through half an hour of one sickly and cringeworthy presenter or another. It's all gets a bit much for my blood pressure.
The news in Greece is entertainment in its own entity. I was an avid follower of the daily animated rows through an almost 2 hour programme. Politicians and journalists spilling their guts in little windows, the frontman/woman utterly incapable of reigning anyone in or maintaining a sense of decorum, or structure. It was fab and I miss it.
I flicked through a few channels earlier, slightly bored and not feeling quite well enough for a night out on the tiles.
It was disturbing to see how many 'lifestyle' programmes are kicking about on the tube. Families hanging out their dirty laundry, exhibiting their many problems like some sort of grubby back street cafe trophy or sending their children off to camps in order to learn how not to behave like rabid dogs.
Is this entertainment? Watching a few hacks and corrupt politicians tear strips off one another is one thing, but everyday people jumping on the prime time bandwagon, casting aside any dignity they ever had is demoralising and I find it sad.
It'll be a while before I brave the remote control again.

Comfortable

I’m beginning to regret my previous post, wishing I’d have left it until we felt as bad as we do today.
My thermostat is broken. It’s 15 degrees outside and I want the fan on, the only hitch being that Fur is shivering his timbers off.
I’ve been making a lot of food. Home made pizzas and stews, interspersed with cups of organic cocoa, charlotte potato wedges roasted in olive oil and lots of tea and sympathy.
If we ate so much all the time, we’d be as fat as houses. Not that I can taste much of it, or hear for that matter. I attempted to listen to some music on my iPod Nano (unscratched) earlier, but I think the neighbours heard more than I did.
Aside from scoffing, we’ve been watching DVDs into the early hours, in the hope that if we go to bed late, our nostrils will have taken a break and will stay clear long enough to enable us to drop off and not hear the monstrous snoring that follows (not me of course).
I’m still losing on the symptoms front though. Man flu is a terrible thing. Aside from causing the most voracious of appetites, it also creates the urge to laugh one’s socks off continuously at the likes of Billy Connolly.
I can merely aspire to feeling so ill.

AKA Creme Anglaise

We both have colds.
Fur of course has man flu - a deadly condition known only to affect the hairier of the human race, so there's no point in competing with him for who has the worst symptoms. I would lose hands down.
Syrup sponge pudding with cold custard is one of the best cures. One needs to take great care when handling the pudding though. The syrup can melt Kryptonite and I almost lost a finger when a tiny amount dripped onto it; definitely testament that no matter how lousy I am feeling, I'm obviously more than capable of managing to use the most colourful language.
I blame Leeds. For everything.

Taking it easy

The Velux 5 Oceans fleet has only been under way for a day and is dealing with very tough, heavier than forecast conditions. Big winds, accompanied by very big seas.
In a short message that Robin Knox Johnston sent earlier to his shore team, he said the following:
"Nasty. Wind 58 knots, storm jib up, sea white with spray, surviving not racing, but okay. Irish coffee."
Grin !

Censored

I've decided not to write about what I wanted to this evening on the basis that the subject may:

a) Incriminate

b) Offend

Don't you just love Mondays?!

Sailing Elite

The first leg of of the single handed Velux 5 Oceans race began this afternoon from Bilbao, Spain - Freemantle, Western Australia.
Along with another 5 world class racers, Robin Knox Johnston was also on the start line.
He became the first person to circumnavigate the world, solo and non stop almost 40 years ago, with his little ketch 'Suhaili' and at the age of 67, he's doing it again, albeit with a few ports inbetween this time.
His Open 60 yacht, aptly named 'Grey Power' and sponsored by Saga (sex and games for the aged) is all he will be able to rely on, aside from himself and his shore team.
Regardless of whether he wins or not, I hope he manages to finish.
Growing old is inevitable, but this has got to be a perfect example of how growing up is always an option.

Too many miles

Hotels are tiring, boring places. The more visits, the pickier I get and can't wait to get home from the minute we arrive. I spend hours looking for interesting ones, with views and vast corridors. When the surrounding area offers little else other than drab suburbs and the potential to be repeatedly mugged, something's got to compensate.
We were too tired to do anything but sleep and watch films last night; twice Killing Bill. It's no wonder I had weird dreams..
Another storm is battering its way through, so there's not been a lot to do today, aside from mooch about and ponder over groceries. I bought some perry whilst shopping for dinner earlier and have just poured the lot down the sink. Being quite a fan of organic cider, I thought I'd give it a go, but as I tried a second glug; my eyes began to water and a taste not dissimilar to antifreeze hit me.
Time to go out.

Vegetarians: look away now

Back to this afternoon and our initial greeting as we stepped into the hotel car park.
A vile smell, like putrid flesh; mixed with cat pooh, rotten onions and curried sloths immediately confronted us.
It was so bad that I resorted to covering my nose and could still smell it as I sprinted towards the reception entrance.
Once inside, the stench disappeared, but I wasn't taking any chances with open windows.
I've since googled the name of the company on the opposite side of the road and lo and behold, they're into waste management.
Nice one Holiday Inn.
I wished I could have booked us into the last hotel we stayed in, but it was full. I was really looking forward to rollerskating the corridors.

Unsurprisingly, by the time we sorted our accomodation issues, I wasn't quite in the mood to get ready for dinner at any restaurant this evening, not even in York.
We drove up the motorway to Wetherby instead and feasted on the best fish and chips. Ever.
Aside from the freshest, firmest, sweetest, most delectable haddock that could possibly comfort out a day of woes; it had all been cooked in beef dripping. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
This is a Yorkshire/North West thing. Long may it last, but they could at least provide wooden spoons for scraping the lingering layer of solidified grease from the roof of one's mouth. Honestly...!

More later

We arrived safely, but I'm still fuming about the state and size of the room we were allocated. Thank gawd for upgrades and professional Furs.
I'm hopeless in such situations, I even stood still and 'errred' when a fan heater was brought to the stinky hole we were in, to compensate for lack of ventilation and heat (air con broken). All this in a Holiday Inn for around 125 smackeroons a night....... shut up Fuff.
Going out for bread and dripping to sort my head/guts out.

Life is too short and too bloody fragile to leave it to the Muses.

Leeds tomorrow.
Woo.
Hoo.

I think I've finished the Internet

A couple of weekends ago, my ISP went gaga for the day. This was of course a major catastrophe.
All the stops were pulled out; from frantic telephone calls to re-testing of older routers, just in case the problem was with our hardware; and what were we going to do now? Hmm?
This was, undoubtedly, a fate worse than a baconless boaty weekend.
As fortune had it, 3G saved the day, but the itch to connect via the all important DSL line was left unscratched until full service was resumed that evening (I'm ashamed to say).
Despite the fact the one of the very first things I do after staggering out of bed in the morning is to make a beeline for my laptop, regardless of whether my sleep encrusted eyes allow me to actually see the screen; I have currently run out of Internet inspiration.
My surfing interests, aside from the usual sites I visit daily, have fallen off their wake and hit a large sandbank. Ooof.
Perhaps I ought to consider going out and doing something else for a while. It might actually be a good thing.

Uncomfortable

I try to explain
Mind and tongue disconnected
Silence is golden
Frustration becomes anger

MOD Keep Out

It's been chilly today

We spent most of last night on the ramparts of the fort, enjoying possibly the best land views of Portsmouth Harbour, the Spinnaker Tower and any vessels to-ing and fro-ing in and out of the fog.
I was surprised to say the least at the presence of cheese, pineapple and sausages on sticks. Fortunately, no military police were around, as I've heard they can arrest and detain you for sarcasm.
Everyone seemed to be having a jolly old time, though the music was so loud that my head was still buzzing this morning.
We left at around half past midnight, the party still in full swing. Even the star of the night, a two year old little girl, was still running around at this time; far too much going on to even contemplate going to sleep and missing anything.
I'm tired and obligationed out. My time for bopping about on tiny dance floors to eardrum shattering seventies music, whilst being blinded by bright lights never came around and I doubt it ever will.

Weekends are for relaxing?

Fur: "So we're all having duck, yes?"

Us: "Yep"

Me " You order; half a duck should be fine for 4"

Fur: "Come on, I'm hungry, I'm ordering a whole one"

Me: "It'll be too much, get a half" (Everyone else nods in agreement)

Fur: "No, I don't think so"

Me: (gaelic shrug) "Ok"

Fifteen minutes later, a platter the size of a small city turned up. The Chinese waiter glared at the stupid English and shoved a steamer containing sufficient pancakes to feed the five thousand in my direction; as we laughed out loud.
We managed to make relatively easy work of it and had leftovers for some of my main course, as aside from noodles and beansprouts, I'm not a huge fan of Chinese food.
I asked the scowling waiter for some more pancakes, which he obligingly fetched, despite lifting the steamer's lid in disbelief and shaking his head.
We made it to the end of the meal without falling over and left the restaurant to go home.
On our way out, we passed a very fat, comatosed woman who was on her back on a big leather sofa in the lobby, belly and tonsils exposed. Hmm, I thought. Should have ordered half a duck..
At half past three this morning, after attempting to digest our inpromtu banquet with the assistance of copious amounts of alcohol, we slouched through the front door and passed out for the rest of the night.

This evening, we're going to a party at the 15th century fort in the picture.
It's a naval base, operational since Henry VIII was on the English throne and guards the entrance to Portsmouth Harbour.
Although I'd prefer to stay at home and recover further from last night's binge, we're obliged to go, as my mum invited us and we can't let her down.
I really don't know what to expect. The place will be populated mostly by air force personnel and my thoughts are currently inclined towards some nightmare scenario or another, involving far too much booze/testosterone and the military.
Needless to say, I'm taking my camera, if not for anything other than a nostalgic snap of a lump of cheese or a sausage on a stick.

A step too far

Okey dokey. I took a short break from popping bubbles; and what did I see?
Free, armpit, fettish.
I couldn't have made that referral up.
Signed,

Fuff the Sod.

High score 1859

My new, much bargained for toy arrived this morning.
At around 1800, I was interrupted.

"What are we having for dinner?"
"Sorry, what? Dinner?"
"Yes. I was wondering if we're going to bother having anything to eat."
"Oh yeah, I'll make something for around 1800 if you're not too hungry."

Some games are extremely addictive and not just for children.
I almost had to have my mum sectioned when she discovered Tetris.
She'd refuse do anything else for hours and would leave people at the front door if chasing a high score. One time she left someone standing outside for 40 minutes.
I remember this because I almost starved that Sunday and had to tidy the house myself.

I resent the implication

To the person who arrived here through a Google search for 'Fick Fuff' : I can assure you that you will not find wot you is looking for on this web page.

Time to switch off and do something less boring instead

Phones are a nuisance. Especially mobile/cell types.
I use mine for calling people, receiving calls and sending the odd SMS. It can do more, but I bore easily and only ever get as far as staring blankly at the menu, before giving up and doing something else.
For some reason, unknown to myself, I spent an hour today trying to persuade my service provider to give me an upgrade that I'd have to pay for; all because I wanted the cursed thing for free.
I'd already chosen a model that wouldn't cost a bean and would be with me the next day, but from the moment I saw the super funky gibbons 3G internetty gadget, that was it. I had to have one and if they wouldn't give it to me, I'd leave and join another provider.
Autumn is obviously driving me mad already.

Time and tide

Made me think of Jaws

The thought of vegetating in front of a DVD on Friday night was enough to make me drag myself out of bed, get ready and go out. I wished I'd stayed in after sitting amongst a group of morose, gale bound boaty people; lamenting the end of the Summer and the inevitable slog of Winter work ahead.
The season is officially over. More and more boats are letting go for the last time until Spring, for the trip to a yard somewhere to be lifted out, scrubbed, antifouled and generally messed about with for the next few months.
We are keeping ours in the water. She'll come out for a couple of weeks of tinkering and a new bottom, but this year, we're going to take any good weather opportunity to get out sailing. Not, however for the 'R' word if I have my way.
Tides this weekend have been huge. I've never seen the buoy in the picture dragged down so far by such a fast running ebb before.
This was good news for children crabbing on the quay today. They were flipping the little sideways beasties out quicker than they could cast their lines. I felt guilty for laughing when one angrily nipped its captor, that is until it was dropped from a height and into a bucket.

Lazyitis

I've spent the entire day in my pit.
In fact, I'm still there.
This morning I woke up feeling a tad iffy, with the headache I've had for the past 2 days still present, but in a different place. At least I can stop worrying as it's moved.
I decided at 0830 to take a couple of painkillers and sleep on it.
I now can't tell whether I have a deep slumber/dream induced head or if the headache is still there.
Is that a good thing?
I'm trying to work out what to do next. Get up, have a shower and go out? Stay put and read? Watch Finding Nemo or Kill Bill?
Decisions....

Is it the parents or the children?

One of our neighbours has two children that sometimes come to stay at the weekend.
Boys, aged 4 and 6 years old.
Completely out of control, they spend their entire visit charging around the building, crashing into people's front doors, screeching at the top of their voices and doing their utmost to make a nuisance of themselves.
Bearing in mind that this isn't a family orientated building, their behaviour has some of the residents knocking back the beta blockers like they're going out of fashion.
I'm pretty indifferent about children and don't have any of my own but like most girlies, I'm rather fond of babies, it's just the older ones who don't behave that I'm not overly keen on.
If I were to spend more than an hour with this pair, I would probably go off kids for life.
What really interests me is the way that their parents allow them to cause merry hell, kicking seven bells out of the lift until they break it; rendering the wheelchair bound guy on the top floor without a means to get in and out of the building and generally trashing the place.
They just let them get on with it.
One of the little gits is also gifted with an extremely precocious mouth. I've been tempted to pick him up by his ears whilst on the receiving end of some of the outrageously cheeky things he has said.
His parents think it's funny. Nobody else does.
Although I realise I'm not particularly tolerent, this has got the easiest going person I know's knickers in a twist and we all thank our lucky stars that it's only the odd weekend of chaos.
I just hope that if I do ever have children, I won't allow them to become the bane of everyone elses lives.
Rant over. Fuff out.

In the wars

My Grandmother always used to chastise me whenever I clumsily bashed myself. She'd tell me that I would have problems with my knees when I grew up if I continued to carelessly thwack them on the furniture, something I could never quite understand, but who actually understands what their old granny says anyway?
Some years have passed since then and although I'm slightly more cautious than I used to be, I still manage to injure myself, albeit superficially, on a regular basis.
Yesterday was one of those days.
Whilst opening a blind, I knocked the above sign off its little hook. One of the corners landed sharply on my bare toes, causing a short string of expletives to whimper out of my mouth. Not bad. The sign is still intact and back in its place, despite receiving a copious amount of scowls.
The rest of the day went by smoothly without further incident.
Upon climbing into bed however, I managed to hit a bone in my foot so hard that I leapt sideways and shot out of the room at lightning speed and in sheer agony. Why and how, I know not.
I must have woken the entire marina as I 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhaghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh %£&$*'d my way around the apartment on one leg. It hurt so much that my leg ached up to the knee.
Poor Fur nearly had a coronary, as he was half asleep at the time and looked slightly pale by the time he caught up with me and found out what was wrong.

Letter from America

I received a parcel this morning from my friend Pat.
Absolutely no excuses today for ranting and general curmudgeonly behaviour.
Aside from the fab Crocs I've been lusting after for the boat and general loafing about, she also sent me a pretty and very nautical cruet set.
Thank you Pat. I've already been down to the boat to see what they feel like on the decks and they're really sticky. I reckon I'll be able to stay upright, no hands, even when heeling 45 degrees.
Can't wait to try them out!
Yippeeeeeee!!!

Dolphins!

Pipe dreams

I'm thinking about opening a retreat for the vocationally challenged. A kind of work/life balance opportunity I believe could be popular.
Not for individuals overloaded with stress and work obligations. On the contrary. It would be for those who find that getting through one's career is an impossibility without regularly standing on the necks of others who mind their own business and attempt to achieve their targets through graft and other decent means that appear to be extinct in many who run round the wheel of the rat race, anticlockwise.
The principal ideology would revolve around making these bastards happy enough with themselves and their pitiful little existences to develop interests in things other than bullying, back-stabbing and the various associated, nasty habits they may have developed over the years.
Through social development and lifestyle coaching, I think some may stand a chance of coming out the other side with more substance than they initially had when they reluctantly slithered into counselling.
Of course for those who resist; electric shock treatment and other methods of therapy would always be an option.

And then there was calm

Learner drivers

I woke up this morning with the distinct feeling that I had been sleeping in the middle of a typhoon.
We didn't close any windows or doors last night. Alerted by the feeling of breeze in my hair and much whooooooing, crashing and clanging; I leapt out of bed to check on the boat, who I found happily bobbing about, stretching and snagging her lines.
Later on we went out for a peek at the water. There wasn't a boat in sight, apart from the odd ferry and a working RIB whose helm looked as though he'd lost a couple of inches in height, plus his kidneys.
A couple of years ago, we were sailing home in very similar conditions, in the same area during an unusual Summer gale.
There had been no forecast for bad weather. Not in the least concerned about any deterioration in conditions for our sail home, we went out the night before and were rather worse for wear the following morning, certainly in no fit state to wake up just before 0600 to get the shipping forecast.
We crawled out of our pits at around 1100 and looked the shipping forecast up on Fur's crackberry. SW 4 or 5 , increasing 5-6, perhaps gale 8 later. Time to go. Quickly.
As we set out, we sensed we'd have some good breeze so as not to have to use the engine at all.
Wrong. There was sufficient wind alright, about enough to shift a 50,000 tonne ship up the Solent.
We spent the following few hours looking dead ahead. The wind was behind us and looking astern provoked exclamations of 'shit! big wave! it'd better not get up anymore!' and of course 'whose idea was it to go out and get ratfinked last night?'
We were not impressed and although quite worried, mostly a result of a couple of huge broaches (sort of semi-submarining sideways due to being overpressed) that seemed to last a lot longer than a few seconds, we got home in one piece without breaking anything.
Upon tying up, we went straight home, swayed for the following 24 hours and went back downstairs the following day to put the boat to bed.

The Needles

Sea Start - Guardian Angels of all wot stinks