Awards And Oops!

Due to ongoing chronic fatigue, I've been struggling to maintain any sort of momentum in the weird, wonderful, wacky world that is the community of bloggers.  So much so, that I'm only now acknowledging all the awards that I accumulated.  To give you an idea of how far behind I am, one of the awards goes back to July, 2014.  

My humble apologies to all of the well meaning bloggers who kindly bestowed the following awards upon me, yes me, shy and humble me.

I would like to thank Julia over at, My writing life, for passing on the "Very Inspiring Blogger Award."  Julia writes with a thoughtful passion that resonates through her variety of writing styles. It's my honour to know her and I do hope, if you haven't done so before, check out her site, which can be discovered here, My writing life.

Although the award comes with rules, I hope Julia will understand that I break rules.  I'm supposed to reveal seven things about my life.  I've pretty well run out of things to reveal about my life.  Maybe just one thing.  That would be that I've stayed at a very posh apartment at a place in London named, "Dolphin Square."  Dolphin Square has been the scene of a certain chap from the House of Lords getting caught on video with a couple of prostitutes as he allegedly snorts coke.  I can assure you I'm not the dude from the House of Lords who then proceeded to pose in a bra of one of the prostitutes.

A rule also states that I should pass on the award to other bloggers.  Being in my usual dilemma, if you like the award, grab the photo and enjoy.

Thanks again, Julia.  Stay special, my kind friend.

Way back when, I received the above award, "The Lighthouse Award", from Alex J. Cavanaugh.  It's very likely you are aware of Alex.  Alex has this uncanny knack of commenting within seconds of a blogger publishing a post.  How does he do that?  Did somebody mention clones?

According to the rules of the award, I'm supposed to at least tell you three reasons how my blog helps others.  Okay, let me think about that....*twiddles thumbs.*

1:  My transparency about my mental health issues has created a sense of empathy for those who relate but feel uncomfortable discussing their own mental health concerns.

2:  My blog is proof positive that my mental illness is only a small part of who I am.  Something for the reader who is struggling to think about in their own life.

3:   My blog shows that a dog can take over and "pawblish" the valuable lessons that our animal friends have to teach us.

I realise I'm suppose to forward on this award.  Once again, the dilemma is that I just don't who to forward it to without somebody wondering why I overlooked them.

This means that I shall now thank Alex who is, without question, one of the kindest, most interactive bloggers out there.  If for some reason you have never visited Alex's site, here it is, Alex J. Cavanaugh.  Thanks again, Alex, it's my honour to know you, good sir.

I was also the proud recipient of the, "creative blogger (award)".  The award was thoughtfully passed onto me by a dear lady name Yvonne.  Yvonne truly writes from the heart.  Her inspiring, thought provoking poetry is a wonder to behold.  

The rules state that I should state five facts about myself.  Without ending up repeating myself and I hope you understand, dear Yvonne, I shall forgo any more facts because basically, I'm at a loss as to what to make note of.

Yvonne and her poetic thoughts can be found here, NASHVILLECATS (2) POEMS BY YVONNE.

I wish to apologise for not forwarding on this award to anybody.  The same theme in my head here. It really is a dilemma in who I should forward the award to.  

Thank you, Yvonne.  Keep smiling and stay positive, my lovely friend. 

And thus, I received the, "creative blogger (award)", a second time.  I thank Bish Denham for passing on the award to me.

Bish, if you didn't know, is an accomplished author of several middle grade books and one young adult themed book.  You can find out all the info about Bish at her blog, which you can visit here, Bish Denham.

Thanks to Bish.  Happy writing to you, my illustrious friend.  You might note my ongoing theme of not actually obeying the rules to the awards.  My apologies for that.

To conclude my rather anarchic approach to awards, here's "The Versatile Blogger" award. Evidently, I'm versatile.  Any versatility I seem to have is really thanks to Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet superstar showing me various writing techniques.

I shall now take this opportunity to thank the wonderful, kind and caring, Yolanda, for considering me for such an award.  Thanks for that, Yolanda.

Yes indeed, the theme continues because I'm now supposed to mention seven facts about me.  Yikes, the fact total keeps rising.  Anyway, the fact is that I have no fact to fact about with.  I know that Yolanda will understand.  Yolanda has taught me all about "Flash Fiction".  Now that I really know the true meaning, I shall keep my clothes on.  The Naked Blogger is another story......

To end this feast of awards, to no surprise at all, I shall also not forward on the award due to previously mentioned dilemmas that the awards cause.

If for reasons beyond my comprehension, you've never been to Yolanda's blog site, here it is, DEFENDING THE PEN.

Yolanda, you know you have my total respect and admiration.  A truly remarkable lady who embraces the magic that is the written word.

Thanks to all five bloggers who thought about me.  I appreciate your ongoing support and kindness.

The comments section is switched off.  I'm trying to play catch-up in blogsville and having the comments switched off will help.

Thank you and I'm outta' here.....................................................................................

A Letter I Read In Disbelief.

A neighbour has a very noisy, aggressive Jack Russell terrier.  On a number of occasions whilst out walking Penny, our beloved Jack Russell terrier, the very noisy, aggressive Jack Russell terrier has tried to attack Penny.  The snarling and snapping of that dog is rather unsettling.

Each time Penny and I have encountered this dog while just trying to go for a peaceful walk, has ended up with Penny and I maintaining a calm demeanour.  Penny does not react.  I've been polite, good natured and courteous to the lady whose dog is causing so much aggravation.  She's said, on numerous occasions, how much she appreciates me not making a fuss about it.  I told her that I suppose her dog is trying to protect her.  I think maybe her dog is jealous of Penny, what with Penny being a famous yet modest internet superstar!

Penny and I continued to go out for walks.  We tried to keep our distance from her dog.  Thought it best for all concerned.  Yet, time after time, the lady would get very close to us with her aggressive little dog.  The yapping of the dog is so loud that at times I'd have to speak louder just so the lady could hear me.  My conversations with her were always pleasant, always cordial.  I try to be a polite, respectful neighbour.  Nobody needs the stress.

Last Wednesday morning I had a letter posted through my mailbox.  Upon opening the letter I couldn't believe what I was reading.  The letter stated that a neighbour of mine was lodging a complaint about me in regards to anti-social, aggressive and threatening behaviour.  The neighbour said they felt intimidated by me.  The letter went on explaining about what is acceptable behaviour within the housing community I now live in.  I was in shock.  I felt sick.

I phoned the person who'd sent the official letter of complaint.  I told the lady on the phone that I would like a meeting with the person who had made such outrageous allegations.  A few minutes later, the lady phoned me back and asked me if the next Tuesday at ten in the morning would be okay for a meeting with the person who accused me.  I told her that was way too long and I needed to  get the situation sorted as soon as possible.  She phoned me back again and a meeting was arranged for the next morning, Thursday morning at ten.

At the meeting, the lady with the very noisy, aggressive Jack Russell terrier, was the one who had made the allegations.  Staying very calm, I asked her why she had said such awful things about me. She responded by saying that I was yelling at her.  To which I responded that I had to speak louder because her dog was barking so loud.  I was actually trying to tell her that when she had been out of her apartment her dog was barking loudly.  So much so that a fellow neighbour said he was going to lodge a complaint if it continued.  I was only trying to warn her.  I pointed out how kind I had always been to her and that this seemed to be a perception issue.  She conceded that she had got it completely wrong,  She apologised, over and over again.

The letter that I received was ceremoniously placed in the office shredder at my insistence.  I hope that such a situation never happens again.  I really don't need this.  Especially when I'm struggling with my confidence and my mental health concerns.  Such an incident, in my fragile state, could of set me back even further.

After the meeting, I thought about how I could turn such a negative experience into something positive.  I talked to the supervisor at reception.  I offered to help set up a blogging community within the apartment building.  This was enthusiastically received.   My idea will be in next month's community magazine.

On the Thursday evening, my doorbell rang.  The lady who had made those horrible allegations against me was standing there with a box of chocolates.  She apologised again and gave me a box of Swiss chocolates.  A nice gesture and I hope that she's realised a lesson from all of this.  Perception and reality can be such a fine line.

On Saturday evening, my doorbell rang again.  This time, it was a dear older lady from across the hallway.  Even though I made no mention of the meeting I'd had, somehow word had gotten around. She just wanted to see how I was because she was worried about me.  She told me she'd vouch for my good nature.  It turns out I'm not the only person that lady had lodged a complaint about.  Rather ironically, she had made complaints against folks who have been very nice to her.  I do understand that the lady in question has her own mental health issues.  These, however, need to be addressed with her having the right support.

Yes, I had a sleepless night before that meeting.  Playing over and over again in my mind what I could of possibly done wrong.  A week later and I'm much calmer, especially knowing that my reputation as a kind, caring, well meaning man is truly intact.

Apologies for an unusually long post by my standards.  I had to get it out of my system via the therapy that is my writing.  Peace and goodwill to you, my friend.

Randomly, Random, Here I Go....

It's been ages since I put up a random selection of musings. Randomly, random, here I go.....

Evidently, a "selfie" is not a euphemism for masturbation. 
                                                               
There was this snail who didn't like being called a snail.  So the snail got the letter "S" painted on each side of its automobile.  From then on when the snail was driving about, onlookers would yell, "Look at that S car go!"

Let's get ready to CRUMBLE!!!

 The locals tell me they are getting sick and tired of the American influence in the UK, as they go out and line dance!!!

Miami Vice-Grips.

Do tornado chasers have whirlwind romances?

Today's writer acronym alert!  "WTF", which means, "Writers Trying Fiction."  Further writer acronym alerts shall discuss the meaning of, "MG", "YA" and the writer's favourite, "WIP". 

I watched some of the games from the Women's World Cup in Canada.  Congratulations to the USA team for winning the Final against Japan, I state, through gritted teeth.  I do note that the women's version of football aka "soccer", has some ways to go before it becomes the spectacle the men's version is.  Not once did I see any of the ladies removing their 
 tops as part of a goal celebration.  Even worse, I didn't see any of the ladies exchanging tops with the opposing players at the end of any of the games.  

I was watching the ladies' tennis from Wimbledon.  There was a lot of noise coming from the lady tennis players.  I turned the sound down and switched on the subtitles  which looked like this, "Ooooooohhhhhh!".................."Eeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkk!"   "Ooooooohhhhhh!"....   .................."Eeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkk!"

I think it would be well neat if the cameras focused on the tennis audience so I could watch their heads sway side to side. 

If you're looking for info on, "Ukeleles", in your search engine, type, "uke hunt".  Now, go ahead, say, "uke hunt", out loud and note the reaction you get!

Chevy Reads Blog Posts?

I'm being very careful what I type just in case my car reads this post.  It seems like it might of been more than coincidence that after I put up a post moaning about cars these days and how simple repairs had become not so simple, that my car promptly acted up the very next day.  I have a hunch that my car's computer read my post.

Thus, my lovable Chevrolet Lacetti, do not worry,  This will be a nice post.  In fact, I'm going to take you back to that friendly, honest mechanic, Adrian.  I shall have Adrian change your oil, your oil filter and give you the best lube job ever.  Besides, my lovable car, I felt bad when he didn't charge me anything in regards to your mystery electrical ailment.

You know, that electrical show you were doing inside my car.  Flashing on and off inside lights that brought back memories of seventies disco.  So, thanks for the boogie wonderland routine, my amazingly nice car.

Dear Chevy, do you recall this photo?  Yes, it was part of that BBC wildlife documentary.  Oh what joy you brought to the precious creatures as you interacted.  They crapped on your roof, fiddled with your wipers and the moose tried to head butt your headlamps.

Dear Chevrolet Lacetti, I should of given you a name.  I recall a time when it seems everybody named their car.  I remember when "Tinker Bell" was a popular name for a car.  I shall discuss a name with you.

My beloved car has been functioning very well since I had it checked out. I'm grateful to that very honest mechanic, Adrian.

My car is no longer an Aston Martin and I'm no longer James Bond from the sixties.  My car in now a "Shaguar" and I'm Austin Powers, "International Man of Misery!"  "Yeah, Baby, Yeah!"

My Chevrolet Almost Ended Up In Detroit.

This is going to be another fast, free-flow, frantic, frenzied, fun-filled, farcical formulation.

I think I might of jinxed myself with my previous post complaining about today's vehicles and that you need to see a software engineer if your car's computer starts acting up.  Maybe my car read my previous post, dated, Friday, June 12, 2015.

Saturday evening, about 8 P.M, June 13, 2015, Sainsbury's supermarket, Leek, Staffordshire, England.  Switch off car.  Get out of car.  Close the door.  All the indicator lights on the dashboard, the beeping sound to indicate a door is open, the red light for the car alarm, are all going ballistic.  I open the car door and it all stops.  I close the door again.  All the indicator lights on the dashboard, the beeping sound to indicate a door is open, the red light for the car alarm, are all going ballistic, yet again!  Close the car for the third time and realise the light show will eventually drain my battery. Rush into the supermarket and forget what I wanted to get.  End up buying some milk and rush back to my car, the car with the dazzling inside light show.

Head back home and close the car door.  Of course, the electrical problem is still happening.  Rush into my home and drop off the milk.  Head back to my car and drive about two miles away.  I do this because I don't have home start on my breakdown cover.  When I mention breakdown cover, I do mean for the car.

Park up the car and phone the breakdown company.  One hour later, a guy shows up.  He checks out my car's electrical system and proceeds to scratch his ass, head.  "Don't know what's wrong with your car, mate.  I'll follow you back to your place and disconnect your battery", he stated.

Back home and he disconnects the battery.  He drives off and I think that my car, my worry-free car for over five years, my car, a Chevrolet Lacetti, a featured car on the UK version of Top Gear, has decided to teach me a lesson.

Of course, over the rest of the weekend, out of curiosity, I kept going to my car, reconnected the battery, only to have the same weird light show occur whenever the car door was closed.  Open the car door and the light show would magically stop.  Unplug the battery for a last time on the Sunday night.

Monday morning and the fun begins.  The first place I phone to hopefully get my electrical problem sorted cannot book my car in until Thursday.  I tell the guy on the phone I'd better check around because that was quite a long wait.  Then the real fun began.  Garage after garage stated they couldn't check the electrics via the onboard computer on a Chevrolet Lacetti.  I finally phoned this one place and the electronics expert mechanic told me he could not get the special code needed to check out my car's electrics because it was a Chevrolet.

Now my mind starts to have all sorts of weird thoughts.  "On no, I have a Chevrolet, a GM product, I have to go to Detroit!  I'll end up on some cargo ship and during some particularly rough seas, the truck with the frozen fish, right beside my car, dumps said frozen fish all inside my car window which I forgot to close.  The frozen fish thaw out and my car will become a haven for Detroit seagulls.  We end up on top of car transporter truck that actually heads to Detroit.  My car gets lowered down at the Detroit drop-off point for overseas Chevrolet vehicles with electrical faults. At this point, a bunch of Detroit gangsters steal all four wheels off my car...."  I snap out of my daydreaming and make one more phone call.

I phone back the garage that cannot book in my car until Thursday.  I mention this time that my car is a Chevrolet Lacetti. The dude I'm speaking to is the owner, somebody I've known for years and is totally honest.  Yes, a totally honest mechanic.  He explains he has a workaround if my car's computer wont cooperate.  He tells me he can "fool" my car into thinking it's a different brand of car. I kid you not.

In the meantime, I kept checking my car.  The electrical fault had vanished but I wasn't taking any chances.  Thursday morning and I left my car so the mechanic could fool its electrics.  That afternoon I phoned and I was told they had done the best they could but couldn't quite trace the problem. However, they said my car seemed fine and they recalibrated the car's computer as best they could.

Upon my arrival at the garage, I was preparing myself to pay for the work done.  "Gary", said Adrian, the owner of the garage, "I don't want any money for the work.  Besides, it appears that you may have actually corrected the underlying problem when you left the battery disconnected.  And Gary, it's nice to see you after such a long time!"  Even though I protested he was insistent that I didn't pay anything.  No charge, so to speak.  How very nice of Adrian.  If you live in Leek and you need your car sorted, I will recommend his garage.

As of right now, as in the fact I quickly dashed out to check my car, I can report my car still seems fine.

There you go.  A post done in under an hour.  If there are any tipos, typos, whatever!

I believe that when my car was plugged into the computer adjustment thingy, that it did get fooled. My Chevrolet is now an Aston Martin and I'm James Bond from the 1960's.  

Hitting The Red Lights.

There was a time, way back when, that I could do basic maintenance on a car.  Oh yeah, no problem tuning my very first car, a rather used 1964 Plymouth Valiant, complete with push button automatic transmission.  No problem changing the starter motor in my "Smokey and the Bandit" type car, a 1973 Dodge Polara.

I was very good at oil changing, lube jobs and fiddling with my dipstick.

These days, cars are computers on wheels.  Something goes wrong now and if I don't happen to have a mega expensive computer tuning thingy for my car, I have to rely on a mechanic to download new software, or whatever the hell they do, to get my car running properly.  Oh how I remember the battery going flat in one of my previous computer cars.  Not just a matter of replacing the battery, but a complete car computer retune just to have my car run efficiently.

Of course, when I take my latest car in for a simple check-up, the mechanic gives that concerned look and a sighing noise.  This means that what should be a cheap repair turns into a funding for the mechanic's dream vacation in Hawaii.

Okay, I understand I cannot just fix cars the way I used to.  However, something as simple as changing a brake light should be totally straightforward.  Right?  Well, no, actually.  Check the car manual to double check how to change the brake light.  Seems easy enough.  Just remove two screws from the side of the brake cover and away I go.  Wrong!  What the manual doesn't explain is that there are mystery plugs holding the brake cover in place.  Could I get the cover off?  No fucking chance!  Gone were the days of just opening some flap and changing the bulb.

Reluctantly and rather embarrassed, I headed off to the local car parts service centre.  On the way there, I hit every red light.  I shall return later and fix the red lights.  Still, it's better than jumping red lights.

Upon my arrival, the guy in the service centre noted my accent.  "Here we go again", I thought. Standing there, wearing a "Canada" baseball hat, the guy asks me "What part of the States you from, mate?  I always wanted to go to the States and be among the American people."  I replied, "I guess that means you want to go to Orlando to experience America."  "Oh no, mate, Orlando is full of bloody British tourists!  No, I want to get out into the small towns and see the real America." "Excellent!  There's a trailer park in Alabama just waiting for y'all", I responded.

"Ever thought about going to Canada?", I asked the dude.  "Yeah, that would be okay, I guess.  Oh, is that a Canadian accent you have?  Can't tell the difference!" he confessed.

We go out to my car and he notes I drive a Chevrolet.   "What a small Chevrolet.  They'd laugh at your car over there.  I mean, everything is bigger in the States, right mate?"  I nod in agreement.

He tries to remove my brake light cover to get to the brake light.  Like me, he has no joy.  A fellow employee comes over to help him and still no joy.  Both scratch their heads in unison.  Various tools are grabbed to try and pry off the brake light cover.  Still nothing.  As luck would have it, the local tug-of-war team are strolling by.  They attach a rope to one of the tools draping off my brake cover and give a mighty heave.  Finally, the brake cover pops off.

Okay, I made up the part about the tug-of-war team.  However, it took the two of them fifteen minutes to finally release the brake cover and put in a new brake light.  Being so much fun, I thought it best they replace the other brake light just in case it was about to burn out.

Yes, another typical day in my rather surreal life.  And yes, another posting done in rapid time without ever applying the virtual brake lights......

Not My Fault.

I notice a few bloggers review movies.  I've never reviewed a movie before.   However, whatever, here's my first ever movie review.  Maybe I could become a movie critic.  Maybe not.

"San Andreas", the movie.  This is a film of some magnitude.  A "blockbuster" movie in the literal sense.  San Andreas, not meant to be a comedy, but some of the dialogue will crack you up. Speaking of dialogue and notably Dwayne Johnson, who hits The Rock bottom in this film. 

San Andreas can be easily summed up by letting you know the plot has one major fault.  

Do you remember the song in this video?