Going Down.

You might of realised that I've left the comments switched off for the last few, very short blog posts. The reason being is that I do try to comment back individually to anybody kind enough to take the time to comment.  However, while my right elbow was still not completely okay, it's been a struggle to type.  Besides, I also like to be proactive on other blog sites and leave comments.  I've failed miserably in doing this during the last several months of having an "el-boob" aka "tennis elbow.

I'll be switching the comments back on fairly soon because my elbow has just about healed without the need for surgery.  I explain the farcical situation about it at a later time.

In the meantime, I'll share another experience with you.

Don't you just hate it when you push the button to go up in the lift, also known as an elevator and you end up going down.  This happened to Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet superstar and myself, a couple of days ago. We were on the second floor.  We wanted to go to the third floor and found we were going down, going down to the first floor.  The doors opened and before us were three pensioners, one of them had a mobility scooter.  Realising that there wouldn't be enough room for all of us, Penny and I graciously got out of the elevator and waited for a later moment.

Thankfully, we've memorised the route because sometimes going up means you end up going down.

Airport Carousel.

"Hairing" My Clean Laundry.

Okay, time to put away the neatly folded, nice, clean laundry. 

"Ah Gary, my wonderful human dad, you've got no chance!" 

Who Laughed First?

Just had a staring contest with Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet superstar.  And yay, I won!  She laughed first! Oh, before some smart ass wonders, I'm in the photo on the right.  The one wearing the baseball cap. 

Fantasy.

Here's one of my adoring fans. 

What A Reception.

Oh no, not again!  I phoned the health centre and got the following message.  "All of our receptionists are currently engaged..."  

Good gosh, I phoned to arrange an appointment with the doctor.  I didn't phone to find out about the relationship status of the receptionists......

Poops And Oops....

One Trump Or Two.

Well, how about that!  Boris Johnson, that bizarre, bumbling buffoon, former mayor of London, was born in New York city. Time to send him back so he can be closer to his older brother. Yes, that other bizarre, bumbling buffoon....

Spotted.

While I'm still waiting for surgery on my right elbow, which should hopefully be sorted out on May 26, yes, May 26 of this year, I'm going to attempt to do a series of short posts.  And yep, the comments are still switched off in the interim.  I will, however, continue to share your posts via all those gosh darn fun social "notworking" sites...


I was in town earlier and I "spotted" one of my neighbours. Amazing what you can do with a marker pen.