Yet More Tedious Dross

Until 2008 actually inspires me to write something other than tedious dross, here is some more tedious dross.
I stole this one from Tiina's blog.
It was originally a "two things" meme, but I've upped it because I have a headache and I want to annoy the meme-haters.

Five names you go by:
1. Dive
2. Baldy
3. Meester
4. デービッド。
5. Sir (this one always cracks me up when I'm out at one of the schools).

Five things you are wearing right now:
1. Che teeshirt
2. Black 501s.
3. Boxers.
4. A kind of sardonic smile.
5. er … that's it.

Five things you would want (or have / had) in a relationship:
1. A woman.
2. Chocolate.
3. Real bitchy, points-scoring arguments.
4. Mutual suspicion.
5. Faked orgasms.

Five of your favourite things to do:
1. Frantic masturbation.
2. Eating bad stuff.
3. Drinking bad stuff.
4. Behaving childishly.
5. Sulking.

Five things you want very badly at the moment:
1. To get rid of this headache.
2. Trains that run on time and that ban mobile phones and anyone under thirty-seven.
3. My youth back.
4. To kill everybody on the planet, including myself.
5. The toilet.

Five things you did last night:
1. Had a very rude video chat with my girlfriend.
2. Drank scotch.
3. Offended fat America.
4. Watched a couple of episodes of Buffy.
5. Slept.

Five things you ate today:
1. Greek yoghurt.
2. Organic oats.
3. A handful of dried cranberries.
4. That's it so far. I'm not Elvis!
5. Still nothing else.

Last five people you talked to:
1. My girlfriend.
2. The train conductor.
3. My kettle (in a threatening manner).
4. Squeaky Kate.
5. Myself.

Five things you're doing tomorrow:
1. Going to Norwich to check out all the mistakes and cock-ups the builders made on my new nursery at the girls' school and planning the new sixth form centre.
2. Hanging around with schoolgirls.
3. Reading The Guardian in my favourite coffee bar.
4. Going to college for my Japanese class.
5. Missing my girl.

Five longest car rides:
1. Faro to Porto and back.
2. Norfolk to York.
3. Norfolk to Cardiff.
4. Norfolk to Devon.
5. Norfolk to Goodwood.
I use public transport for long journeys. Not because I'm environmentally conscious so much as because I'm lazy.

Five favourite beverages:
1. Coffee.
2. Green tea.
3. Green and Black's cocoa.
4. Scotch.
5. Red wine.

Five things about me you may not have known:
You know just about everything about me as I am such a pathetic meme-addict, so I'll re-hash a few and call this "Five things you already knew about me and didn't give a toss about":
1. I find Deanna Durbin totally hot.
2. I laughed when Diana died.
3. I've eaten my own cum. It wasn't deliberate; just a mischievous ex.girlfriend after a blowie who pounced on me and jammed a cum-covered tongue into my mouth. Ew!
4. I once recorded under the pseudonym of "Clint Slick" because I was a drunken student and thought that the fact that it looked like "CUNT SUCK" when written in capitals was funny.
5. The last song I listened to was America's "Ventura Highway". No reason; iTunes is on "shuffle" and is trying to tell me I'm still a hippy.

Five jobs I have had in my life:
1. Architect.
2. Guitar player.
3. Photographer.
4. When I was a kid I worked at a butchers for a while. That truly sucked.
5. I also worked at an engineering firm in the school holidays. That sucked, too.

Five movies I watch over and over:
1. Doctor Strangelove (Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb).
2. Chinatown.
3. The Bed Sitting Room.
4. This Is Spïnal Tap.
5. Any and all Austin Powers movies.

Places I have lived:
1. England.
2. Malta.
3. Portugal.
4. Inside my scary head.
5. The Small Glass Planet.

Five of my Favorite Foods:
1. さしみ。
2. みそしろ。
3. どんぶい。
4. くじら。
3. Clitoris.

Five places I'd rather be right now
1. Wrapped tight around my girl.
2. Sitting in Prudence's living room in the beautiful lakes region of New Hampshire with a hot coffee, looking out at all the snow.
3. Lounging on Jules' porch in Rabaul with a cold G&T, gazing out over the turquoise waters of the bay at the volcano.
4. Sitting outside はらじゅくの駅, watching the girls go by.
5. Eating sashimi in a Tokyo bar.

Five people I think will respond:
1 to 5: The meme-lovers will probably have a go; the meme-haters will curse me for being a meme-lover.
Hey ho.

All Hail His Pinguescent Majesty

Many thanks to Robyn, our inestimable keeper of arcane knowledge, for pointing out that The King is 77 today!

This wouldn't be a proper "Dive" post if I didn't make some sarky crack about Fat Elvis and the obesity epidemic, so here goes:

You kids won't remember, but way back in the seventies, the Elvis diet briefly vied for supremacy with the Karen Carpenter diet for the soul of America; but while a few young girls still kill themselves the Karen Carpenter way, an increasing majority of modern America has whole-heartedly embraced the Elvis diet, making it the most successful ever.

As a role model, The King has shaped the America we see today; a nation groaning under a hideous, heaving horde of wobbling, half-ton lardosaurs gorging themselves to death on junk food.
Elvis is succeeding where al-Qaeda failed; slaughtering whole generations of innocent Americans in a bloated, oleaginous, adipose apocalypse.

But what a fucking great singer he was (for which we can forgive his becoming a fucking great lard-arse).

Inevitably, this brings to mind an Elvis story from my past.
Back in the tragic year of his alleged death (I'm a firm believer in his immortality, though possibly not of his being a space alien), I played probably the easiest season of my life; rattling off Scotty Moore licks behind an Elvis impersonator.
Actually a rather good one, not like the dross you get these days.

It happened like this:
In the heady days of 1977, I was making no money whatsoever playing lead guitar in a band doing Yes, Focus and Mahavishnu covers, whilst listening to Punk and managing a spectacularly unsuccessful Punk band (what a monstrous master of the sell-out I was).
Being but a schoolboy I needed cash desperately to spend on riotous living … and more guitars.
So when a couple of old guys heard me playing Zappa stuff as they walked past the house and came knocking on the door to say "Will you join our band, please?", the only question in my mind was "Do you have paying gigs?"

They did … and so I became Scotty Moore for a season, playing stuff I could do with both arms cut off.
It was all rather splendid fun, made lucrative by the King leaving the building that very summer.

"Elvis" himself took a bit of a shine to young Dive, inviting me to his house for meals and introducing me to his lovely daughter (you can cringe now, Theresa; you know what's coming).

Being a lusty eighteen-year-old version of Dive, one thing swiftly led to another, and a few days later I found myself in their kitchen "helping" Theresa bake stuff.
To my utter horror, in walks "Elvis" to be confronted by his smiling daughter in a bright red sweatshirt with floury white hand prints all over her boobs.

Ahem …

To my (again "utter") delight, he simply grinned and told us to clean up and "go upstairs where it's more private and play some records or something".
Smiling like a couple of idiots, up we went, as it were … "up" being the operative word.

It was only later, at dinner, when they invited me to tea for Theresa's upcoming birthday.
"Great! What is it, your seventeenth or eighteenth?"
"I'll be fourteen." she said.
Fuck!
Fuck my fucky, fucking luck!

It turned out that they thought they had found "a real catch" and were already planning our wedding! Sheesh!
To be brutally honest, these folk were - like the real Elvis - people of a somewhat … er … "rural" outlook, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

As a result of which I dropped poor Theresa like a hot … well, like a hot underage girl, dammit!

Poor thing. On the rebound, she got herself an alarmingly porcine boyfriend within a couple of months but he promptly eloped with her mother!
That was just too "Deliverance" for me … Theresa's mum possessed none of her daughter's charms, resembling nothing so much as the grisly offspring of an unnatural liaison betwixt a dugong and a potato.
The upshot of which was that poor "Elvis" gave up singing and I ran away to college, getting the Hell outta Dodge.

This is what life is like in rural England.
I deal with it as best I can …

Happy Birthday Elvis!
You still rock, dude.

Going Through The Motions

Jules posited in yesterday's comments that perhaps I need a hobby to cheer myself up and suggested diving … in The Thames!
I love The Thames and walk alongside it as many days a week as I can manage, but diving in it?

To rehash an old joke (which Peahen reminded me of last night), swimming in The Thames is just going through the motions … Ew!


Actually it's a lot cleaner than it used to be when I was a kid. There are salmon and otters (and the occasional whale) in it now; actually swimming about rather than laying on the surface, gasping and choking.
Still, as you can see by this morning's walk to work photos, the visibility is zero, so you wouldn't get to see a whole lot.


In the days of The Great Stink in the mid-nineteenth century, human waste, animal waste (we're talking megatonnes of peepee and poopoo here), rotting animal carcasses, chemical waste from tanneries, laundries and industry, and all manner of pungent and pestiferous effluvia were not only dumped straight into the Thames untreated, but were then pumped straight back out and used for drinking and washing.
Yummy!
Not only did that lead to cholera and the extinction of all life in the river, it also drove Parliament out of the city, having first forced them to cover all the windows alongside the river with lime-soaked heavy curtains.
Fragrant it was not.
Good old Joe Bazalgette sorted that one out by building our lovely sewer system that Thames Water now seems unable to maintain properly, the useless bastards.

But given a diving suit, I would far rather hop on a plane and go diving off Jules' porch than to dip my toes in my lovely Thames.
Any more feasible Dive-cheering hobby suggestions gratefully accepted.

Bored Now

At last; a nice sunny morning.
And it's Monday, too, which should cheer me up a bit.
But it doesn't.
Christmas and New Year were just so depressing that it will take more than a sunny Monday morning to get me going.

Everything's boring.

Not even the sight of Boudicca can rouse my brain from its grey torpor.
And if a kick-ass bird in a spiky chariot can't do it then what the fuck can?

2008 really sucks ass.

A measly two credibility points to anyone who can spot where the post title comes from. I'm so bored that I couldn't be bothered to think up a harder one.

Suffer, Meme Haters.

Well, as I'm feeling particularly uninspired of late, here's another meme to make you even more bored:

This one appears to be about 2007.
It also appears to be written by an American kid, so a lot of it doesn't apply. But I don't really give a fuck.

1) Where did you begin 2007?: In bed, asleep.

2) What was your status on Valentine's Day?: Stunned, as after decades of enforced loneliness I appeared to have acquired a girlfriend four days before.

3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?: I spent a lot of my time hanging around girls' schools. But then I design girls' schools for a living so it's not as dodgy as as if you were hanging around them.
I also kept up my Japanese lessons at Yarmouth College. Still 100% test record. すごいです。

4) How did you earn your money?: Designing girls' schools … duh!

5) Did you have to go to the hospital?: Yes. I spent a happy nine hours waiting for a blood test and also had my check-ups, X-rays and general maintenance done.
I didn't visit anyone in hospital in 2007, which is always a nice thing to say about a year.

6) Did you have any encounters with the police?: Not in 2007, other than getting my annual CRB check done (Criminal Records Bureau … It's part of my job that I'm a good boy and they check me out and provide a certificate to say I've not been naughty. Someone with a record of drug dealing or on the sex offenders register would not be the wisest choice for working with schoolgirls).
In 2006, they came round to remonstrate with me for throwing a burglar out of my kitchen window, leaving him somewhat the worse for wear. That was when I discovered that fingerprint dust is a fucking pain to get off stuff.
The CSI girl was gorgeous.

7) Where did you go on vacation?: Nowhere. I've not been away on hols since 1994.

8) What did you purchase that was over $1000?: Too much. I like stuff.

9) Did you know anybody who got married?: Yup. Fat Claire from the Village of the Damned. I think they had to sign a legal document to the effect that they wouldn't breed … at least I hope they did.

10) Did you know anybody who passed away?: Too many fellow musicians.

12) Did you move anywhere?: Only shuttling between Norfolk and London.

13) How did you celebrate your birthday?: I read a book and went to bed.

14) What concerts/shows did you go to?: Only weird shit that nobody's ever heard of.

15) Are you registered to vote?: Yup, though finding a good Socialist to vote for is becoming tricky these days.

16) Who did you want to win Big Brother?: I've never watched it or read about it and I have no idea who was in it and I'm glad.

17) Where do you live now?: On the edge of a cute little village nestled in the middle of the Norfolk Broads.

18) How did you spend your summer break?: My what? I seem to remember telling you that I design schools for a living. Most of our major construction work goes on during the summer break so I was busier than a hive of bees.

19) What's one thing you thought you'd never do but did in 2007?: I found a girl who seems to like me and fell in love. Sickening, isn't it?

20) What has been your favorite moment?: A first kiss … in the British Museum of all places.

21) What's something you learned about yourself?: That I can no longer simply bounce straight back up if I fall down the stairs. Suddenly it hurts. Getting old sucks.

22) Any new additions to your family?: Only the occasional new spider scuttling about the place.

23.) What was your worst month?: January. After that I was half of a couple.

24.) What music will you remember 2007 by?: Lots of good new avant-garde music came out and Joni came out of retirement with a spiffy album but nothing stands out particularly.

25) Who has been your best drinking buddy? Charlie and Fern; next door's cats.

26) Made new friends?: Yes, oddly.

27) New best friend?: Rupa; a small, spherical Indian woman who is more fun than watching a paraglider slam into the side of a caravan.

28) Favorite night out?: All the parties I've avoided going to. One day people are going to realise and stop inviting me. Twats.

29) What sporting events did you attend?: None, other than motor racing. Though I do enjoy watching our girls slaughter the opposition at lacrosse (we have the entire England team and a whole lot of international players at our schools; most of them at Norwich, which specialises in it).

30) What was your best month?: July was pretty good.

31) Overall, how would you rate 2007 out of 10?: I wouldn't. Like most years it was a bit of a curate's egg.

32) Other than home, where did you spend most of your time?: Stuck on fucking trains getting backwards and forwards to London.

33) Did you change your hairstyle?: I went slightly balder.

34) Have any car accidents?: Nope.

35) Did you have a New Year's resolution?: It's all here.

36) Do anything embarrassing?: Way too much to relate here.

37) Buy anything new from eBay?: Nope. Never use it.

38) Get married?: Nope. Though I might one day.

39) Get arrested?: Nope.

40) Be honest - did you watch American Idol?: Nope. I don't know what that is and I probably wouldn't care if I did know.

41) Did you get sick in 2007?: The odd headache.

42) Been snowboarding?: What a fucking stupid question to ask a middle-aged man in a country where there's not enough snow to make a decent snowball.

43) Are you happy to see 2007 go?: Yup.

Well. So much for 2007.
So far, 2008 has been utter crap.
Who makes these fucking years? Whoever it is needs a damned good kick up the arse.

Another Filler Post

The grey, miserable start to 2008 has settled heavily on my soul and left me with all the wit and sparkle of an American TV anchorman during the writers' strike.
No matter how much caffeine I jolt my brain with it remains a doughy, lumpen mass with nothing blog-worthy leaking out of it.

Hence, yet another filler post.
This one will bring cries of joy to any of you who have ever wondered about the little thatched house hidden in the bamboo garden at Kew.
So that's none of you, then …

I stumbled on it when I took Mum for a day out at Kew a little while back. It's a traditional Japanese みんか house.

Kinda woody.

The script on the wooden panel describes the construction of the house and starts with (top right) the characters: 高木（たかいぼく- takai boku), meaning expensive wood. Don't ask me to translate the rest as I have a headache.

Anyhoo, here's what Kew's website says about it:

Kew's Minka House was originally a farmhouse built around 1900 in a suburb of Okazaki City, near the southern coast of central Japan. The first owners sold the house to the Yonezu family in 1940 and it was dismantled and moved to another part of the city. After their main home was destroyed in a bombing raid, the Yonezu family moved into this minka in 1945. Mr Yonezu was a keen photographer and he took pictures of many of the family events and celebrations held in the house.

The house fell vacant in 1993, on the death of Mrs Chiyoku Yonezu, who was the last member of the family to live there. The Japan Minka Re-use and Recycle Association (JMRA) acquired the house and donated it to the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew as part of the Japan 2001 Festival. After the minka had been dismantled, its wooden framework was shipped to the UK. Construction at Kew began on 7 May 2001, with experienced Japanese carpenters reinstating the intricate joints that are formed without the use of iron nails. When the framework was completed on 21 May 2001, a Japanese ceremory was held to mark the auspicious occasion. A team of British builders, who had previously worked on the Globe Theatre in London, then assembled the mud wall panels and thatched the roof with Norfolk reeds and wheat straw on a grid of bamboo laths. Work was completed in November 2001.

So now you know.
Normal service will be resumed when my brain starts working.

Pretty Unappetising

Another photo from this morning's walk in to work.

St.James's Park is chock full of birds, yet nobody seems to want to eat these yummy berries.

They've been sitting there since October, when I first noticed them.

The photos put it far more eloquently that I can, just how heinously winter sucks ass.

The bush is a variant of callicarpa, for which the common name is "beauty berry" but in bird language must mean "shitty-tasting".

Grey

Whoop di doo!
I actually made it to work today.
"Normal service" has been resumed on the trains so I was "only" 65 minutes late.
2008 has started like a Trabant on a frosty morning.
I've a good mind to send it back and ask for another year.

London, like Old Dive, is grey and subdued this morning; as inspiring as an accountancy textbook.

Everything seems to be in greyscale at the moment. This reflection of a tree in the lake in St.James's Park is about as good a description as I can find of the year so far; a black, meandering, confused mess.

Roll on spring.

I Don't Even Know What Day It Is

That's twice in the past seven years that I've gone back to work a day early after Christmas.
What a fucking dork.
At least this morning, the trains were so crap that at five AM the website listed fifty-five cancellations so I emailed the office to say I'd be working from home.
I was quite happily beavering away when an email came back from the boss at 8:30 saying "Hahahahaha! Go back to bed, you klutz! We don't start work until tomorrow."

The last time this happened was before the evil "One" franchise took over our rail line and so the trains worked (sort of). I got into the office to find the security guard (Hi, Fernando) looking at me weirdly and asking what I was doing there.
Having kicked myself around reception I went up to the office, got a coffee and breakfast and read the paper, then went sightseeing and shopping in the snow (yes, we had snow back then).
I wasn't going to waste a seven hour round trip to London by just going straight back home.

So that's Dive's start to 2008.
I'm so dumb that I don't even know what day it is.

Well, start as you mean to go on, they say.
This is going to be one dumb fuck of a year.

I'm Not Impressed

This is it, huh?
Another fucking year …

Well this is what 2008 looks like from my front step.
Grey, dreary, fucking cold, damp, boring, depressing …
And I have to go back to work tomorrow.


You guys really went out and celebrated this?
You're weird.