Thomas Hamburger Jnr has kindly nominated me for a Thinking Blog Award



The rules for winners of the Thinking Blog Award are outlined by originator Ilker Yoldas:

1. If you are nominated, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' - you can find more details here - with a link to the post that you wrote (there is an alternative gold version if silver doesn't fit your blog).

Obviously all blogs make you think even if it's only 'I can't be bothered with this'. A lot of my interest comes from reading between the lines. It is reckoned that 55% of communication is through body language, 38% through the tone, speed and inflection of the voice and only 7% by what is actually said. Apparently we have little to go on when knowing some one only through what they write in the blogosphere.
Are people who rant and rave as dissatisfied, angry and confused as they appear?
Are people who cut themselves off from the 'real' world really as anti-social as they seem?
Is humour used to disguise cowardice?
Are people who present themselves as being nice and wholesome disguising a dark side?
Do some people reveal more about themselves when commenting on other people's blogs than they do on their own blog?
Do some people have lives and jobs that are so demanding that they have to 'vent' through blogging?
Are a lot people just looking for a pat on the back?
Are there others that think that blogging is a career move?
Or could it be just fun?
I strongly suspect that most people blog for all these reasons at some time. It just depends how they are feeling that day. It's a bit like horoscopes - there's usually something there you can relate to.
I, for one, would never use humour to disguise a miserable, lonely and desperate life, when getting out of bed is a struggle and there is nobody around that understands the pain I'm in and the control I have to exert just to make it through the day...............or do I? (Is it the BeeGees? .... Tragedy, de dum de dum de dum de dum, Tragedy. Lo, TG Ed.)

Sorry Ilker, I think it would be wrong to nominate specific writers so the blog stops here, on this strand anyway. Actually Lo, the terrible Goddess has made me rethink [nothing new there then] and I have decided to nominate people who were desperate enough to have put themselves up for appraisal by The World Blog Council.
Renalfailure
Sensibilitities
And as the world Turns
Miss adventure continues
My life is murphy's law

I have just been through my stats and discovered that 2 people found me yesterday - well done them. I didn't need to look up the records of course - I had sat in the confessional for hours listening to them drone on about their problems and ambitions and all that sort of drivel and neither of them bothered to leave a 'thank you' on the way out. Anyway, my opinion that regular commentators are, let us say, ..........challenged, was confirmed! (It's more likely that your charming, highly intelligent and may I say, kindly contributors took the opportunity of a bit of peace and quiet. Lo, TG Ed.)
[I was in sculptures by the way - if you had used an ounce of sense, you would have worked out that looking at 'recent entries' might give you a clue. I was only one click away].

Anyway, to more pressing matters.
I was not drawn out of the sorting hat at Big Blogger. Penfold was. I have my suspicions that ageism is rearing it's ugly head but I have no proof.

Being a good boy scout I had made some rather expensive preparations for possible incarceration:
1] I bought several pairs of odour eaters. These would have been for the benefit of fellow inmates. My feet have been discussed before but I do have another problem that hasn't been mentioned. Suffice to say, I have discovered that if I stuff an odour eater down the back of my pants, it filters and muffles. (Always this need to share. Lo, TG Ed.)
2] I went to see my solicitor for some advice, as I would have been in a very public position. She charges by the hour or part of the hour and after waffling on for exactly 61 minutes the only thing she could come with was "It would probably be best to avoid any reference to Indian food".
3] My biggest concern was separation from Lo, she is a terrible Goddess. After intensive research on the interweave I found the Babble Fish. This is similar to a Babel Fish in that it gets inserted into your head, but it's function is different. It allows the wearer direct and secret communication to their editor for advice on spelling, syntax and babbling. I have had one fitted. I was going to go to a Harley Street doctor for the operation but the cost would have been astronomic so I went to a Harley Davidson dealership instead and had it fitted by one of their engineers for a cash deal. It's been very useful already. I can hear the TG shouting at me even if I'm shopping. Fortunately it's got an off button. (Modifications are in hand. Lo, TG Ed.)

Apart from these unnecessary costs, I'm not too disappointed. The TG has suggested that I could play along. She has said she would have no objection whatsoever if I locked myself in the shed for eight weeks. (True. Lo, TG Ed.) I could even call her Big Bertha. (I wouldn't if I were you. Lo, TG Ed.) I pointed out that the new owners of Papersurfer Manor might object if I was living in the shed when they moved in but she only shrugged.
My favourite magazine.
Anyway, good luck to all the bloggers going into the house - may your descent into insanity be painful painless and rapid.

Due to my unfortunate habit of random clicking I seem to be lost. I think I only clicked 2 or 3 times. Please try and find me.

I have been hearing the word gormless more and more frequently of late.



If I started with some gorm, why is there less of it and where is it going? Does it just float away when there is a gentle breeze? Has it folded in on itself and become a mini black hole that is hiding somewhere and if I accidentally stumble upon it the rest of my gorm will disappear completely?
Is it a misprint and should be groomless?
" Poor Goddess was left at the alter - pregnant and groomless".
Or perhaps it is something to do with my avatar and Lo, she is a terrible Goddess is telling me to gurn less.
Whatever the answers are to these deep and meaningful questions I am only too pleased to have worked out that at some point I, at least, had some gorm to lose. (That's a rather optimistic assumption - I'm simply being kind. Lo TG Ed.)

I went back to the garden centre yesterday although it was very windy and rainy. Anyway, the flowers were lacking shape. They were mostly walled up closeouts and the few with corners were super speedy. A little more challenging than yesterday. Still, I sacked up and waddled out to take a beating. I'm on thrusters again btw.



Although they were clean, these flowers are not my most favourite to sniff. Too much consequence for the effort and fun. If these were growing in a little deeper water, I probably would've had more fun and stuck with some of the flowers that I ended up pulling off. As it was, the weather had the flowers crunching in waist deep water. Kind of gnarly for me. I pulled some weeds in a handful of closeout barrels - none of which had any exit to hope for at all- which was why they were drowning. I ate manure on a lot of them too. I just don't have the pruning take-off abilities that I used to, I had to use my teeth.

Still, the weather ruined any sniff highs. Get indoors.




Profoundest apologies to novicesurf.

(I have absolutely nothing to say except - I knew it would happen one day. Totally bonkers. Lo, TG Ed.)

I saw Frog dog today and he is almost completely recovered from his ordeals, although his testicles appeared suspiciously buff.



Avid readers, I fear that I am costing Tiggz hard earned money. Well, I say hard earned in the loosest possible sense, as he's on to a winner at the moment. A couple of clicks on his PC, fuelled by a synapse or two and a spoonful of creativity and a few dollars more wing their way across the pond in his direction.
He hardly uses his car and the time has come around again when it needs it's MOT. [the annual test in Britain for old bangers]. His mileage last year was less than 200. His needs are simple and he has discovered the delights of cycling. This was brought on by self assessment when he turned 40 and because I called him a fat git. He is now almost as slim and beautiful as his father. [He'll never reach the heights that the TG scales - she is a deity after all].
He was seriously considering junking the car and saving himself time, trouble and cash.
However, the need for me to be in a safe environment at the gated community [nothing to do with me wanting to live somewhere overlooking a marina with a video entry system and remote controlled gates and servants vacuuming the stairs], means that we will be beyond sensible cycling distance.
So the car is at the garage and, if last year is anything to go by, it'll cost a small fortune.
Still, I'm worth it. I certainly never gave any consideration to cost in dragging him up proper.

(I'm very glad Tiggz will be able to visit; I need all the moral support I can get. Lo, TG Ed.)

Next time 'The gullibility of care workers in Australia'
PS My little bout of temper the other day has worked - we move on the 14th June - many hurrahs and a bit of a hangover today.