I saw a pheasant today.
and liked him very much
his beautiful colours majestic yet muted
his clothes rich yet modest.
I saw a pheasant today.
His stride triumphant
matched his manner
the manner of an actorly prince
I imagine though
that without his rainbow costume
he'd feel vulnerable
and that is no bad thing
because when we're vulnerable
we melt the bars that hold us
allowing others in
and when in they weave raiments
more befitting our state of mind
So my dear prince on the verge
I dare you to remove your much stuck feathers
and stalk the countryside with me
naked.
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
What Time Is It? Time For A Quick Rewind.
Number one in the list of World Cup Shockers was Zinedine Zidane's head butt in the 2006 World Cup.
I thought the top spot might go to Maradona's cheating hand...
Becks was up there with his stupid girly back kick on the guy who floored him in 1998. Silly boy.
All in all a fantastic programme. I especially liked Peter Crouch's dead pan performance as co-presenter and straight man to leading waffler Richard Bacon. I see you in a completely different light now Pete. Well done.
I love compendium programmes like this, where a bunch of people (comedians) I've hardly heard of yammer on about something. Sometimes they're worth listening to but more often than not their perfectly timed and painfully rehearsed delivery of off- the- cuff jokes makes for uncomfortable viewing unless they're Omid Djalili.
So after watching replay after replay of misses and goals and punch ups and tears I can barely contain my excitement...So I'll rewind massively and watch Beckham slam in the perfect goal from the sweetest slickest of free kicks...
Then, in roughly two hours, I'll toootle off to the station to pick up Mr Horsehound:(
Tea I think, to keep me awake:)
I thought the top spot might go to Maradona's cheating hand...
Becks was up there with his stupid girly back kick on the guy who floored him in 1998. Silly boy.
All in all a fantastic programme. I especially liked Peter Crouch's dead pan performance as co-presenter and straight man to leading waffler Richard Bacon. I see you in a completely different light now Pete. Well done.
I love compendium programmes like this, where a bunch of people (comedians) I've hardly heard of yammer on about something. Sometimes they're worth listening to but more often than not their perfectly timed and painfully rehearsed delivery of off- the- cuff jokes makes for uncomfortable viewing unless they're Omid Djalili.
So after watching replay after replay of misses and goals and punch ups and tears I can barely contain my excitement...So I'll rewind massively and watch Beckham slam in the perfect goal from the sweetest slickest of free kicks...
Then, in roughly two hours, I'll toootle off to the station to pick up Mr Horsehound:(
Tea I think, to keep me awake:)
Half Time...
The lettuce seeds went everywhere! Gust of wind to blame. Managed to salvage them and are now planted in a large old blue recycle bin.
The sausage was deelish. Thick, hot and good.
Rock cakes, divine. Apricot and sultana, not too sweet and very light and airy.
And I didn't watch the movie. Saving it. Something for the weekend Sir.
After the sausage and after watching the news I felt I needed a little lift so put on a recorded programme (BBC3) called... Shocking World Cup Moments!....
So with tea on the side and rock cake in mitt I laughed out loud at the footie howlers...I didn't however find our penalty taking mishaps particularly funny.
Didn't need to be reminded at this moment in time John about how unlucky we tend to be when faced with a shoot-out. I never look. I can't. I just listen. Call me girlie, call me weak, but I can't bear it...
The rest of the programme is great! Love seeing the feet flying, big boys crying (especially drooled over THAT) and the poor Scots running around trying to play. Bless their haggisy hearts, can't win a game, have loads of fans dressed like wee McTavish or someone and always always go home before we do:)
I got particular pleasure out of seeing Argentina's Diego Maradona screeching out of his head after scoring a goal and then, after an intimate inspection by the docs, getting kicked out of the event for consuming performance enhancing drugs.
He now manages Argentina...
Can't see Gary Lineker in his hey day consuming anything more deadly than an aspirin. But he's boring anyway.
Quick Notes...
A young and flighty David Beckham swerved a fantastic free kick into the back of the net, he looked more boyish then unlike now where he resembles Errol Flynn.
A partly sober Gazza sobbing after being booked which meant he'd be out of the final should we have reached it. We didn't. But Gazza loves his country.
The Cameroon flooring everyone with their studs and electric dance moves.
The Ireland team in '94 being made up with Englishmen who once wore something green when they were little. Pathetic.
A Cameroonian deciding, twenty seconds after a ball was lightly kicked towards him, to collapse and die by the corner flag. Drama queen or what. The way he revelled in fake pain was amazing. I must remember that when I want my own way.
Stuart 'psycho' Pearce missing a penalty. He's now Fabio Capello's right hand man. I like him.
Someone spitting in Klinsman's face. Rotten sport. I know he's German but he didn't deserve that.
There's more but I haven't watched it yet!
So footie on the brain and the best is yet to come...
Epicurean delight tonight...
Salmon fish paste sandwich. Home made bread saving it from being inedible muck.
Now back to Shocking World Cup Moments!
Ta ta!
The sausage was deelish. Thick, hot and good.
Rock cakes, divine. Apricot and sultana, not too sweet and very light and airy.
And I didn't watch the movie. Saving it. Something for the weekend Sir.
After the sausage and after watching the news I felt I needed a little lift so put on a recorded programme (BBC3) called... Shocking World Cup Moments!....
So with tea on the side and rock cake in mitt I laughed out loud at the footie howlers...I didn't however find our penalty taking mishaps particularly funny.
Didn't need to be reminded at this moment in time John about how unlucky we tend to be when faced with a shoot-out. I never look. I can't. I just listen. Call me girlie, call me weak, but I can't bear it...
The rest of the programme is great! Love seeing the feet flying, big boys crying (especially drooled over THAT) and the poor Scots running around trying to play. Bless their haggisy hearts, can't win a game, have loads of fans dressed like wee McTavish or someone and always always go home before we do:)
I got particular pleasure out of seeing Argentina's Diego Maradona screeching out of his head after scoring a goal and then, after an intimate inspection by the docs, getting kicked out of the event for consuming performance enhancing drugs.
He now manages Argentina...
Can't see Gary Lineker in his hey day consuming anything more deadly than an aspirin. But he's boring anyway.
Quick Notes...
A young and flighty David Beckham swerved a fantastic free kick into the back of the net, he looked more boyish then unlike now where he resembles Errol Flynn.
A partly sober Gazza sobbing after being booked which meant he'd be out of the final should we have reached it. We didn't. But Gazza loves his country.
The Cameroon flooring everyone with their studs and electric dance moves.
The Ireland team in '94 being made up with Englishmen who once wore something green when they were little. Pathetic.
A Cameroonian deciding, twenty seconds after a ball was lightly kicked towards him, to collapse and die by the corner flag. Drama queen or what. The way he revelled in fake pain was amazing. I must remember that when I want my own way.
Stuart 'psycho' Pearce missing a penalty. He's now Fabio Capello's right hand man. I like him.
Someone spitting in Klinsman's face. Rotten sport. I know he's German but he didn't deserve that.
There's more but I haven't watched it yet!
So footie on the brain and the best is yet to come...
Epicurean delight tonight...
Salmon fish paste sandwich. Home made bread saving it from being inedible muck.
Now back to Shocking World Cup Moments!
Ta ta!
I Am The Best. Except When In Sainsbury's...
I dazzled around Sainsbury's quite early this morning on account of wanting to get back early!
And everything was going swimmingly well, managed to keep to my list, gave the nod to Bob on veg, and did a jig when I clapped eyes on some BOGOF sausages, they weren't on my list but that was the only diversion, I swear.. Oh no there was something else, a packet of fig rolls. Anyway I handed over my money to a startled Barb on the till. "You do look glamorous today"she said her infectious smile making me break out also.
"Thanks sweetie" I said carefully watching the eggs.
"Glitter does the trick for me, especially on a Wednesday".
She laughed then took all my notes. Bitch.
So I was feeling rather pleased what with my bogoff sausages, plump sultanas and frozen chicken, and I had money left over...:)
This is great I thought as I tackled a pensioner with more sausages than me, I've done well today, even have enough money for the Daily Mirror (Glossy World Cup Pull-Out) So I made my way to the paper counter...WRONG! So wrong. Shouldn't have thought about buying the Mirror because next to the papers were....DVD's. Ooops!
I love films as you know, so I thought what harm is there in just flicking through a few?
The harm idiot face, is that you'll spend money you don't have. Well I do have it but it should go to more worthy causes like petrol and lipstick NOT on films.
I looked anyway...
He, he, he, he, he.
I held it, knowing it was going home with me, and at just £4 I could afford it AND a paper.
So this afternoon, after I've sewn some lettuces, made a few Rock Cakes, and shaved my legs I shall, with the aforementioned smooth legs up on the pouffe, eat a sausage sandwich watching...
THE DAMNED UNITED!
A film about football:)
A film about the man who should have been England manager...:)
A film about a big head:)
Brian Clough:)
Here we go, here we go, here we gooooooo!
P.S. Last time I looked I think I was a girl
Ta Ta!
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
WE NEED ANOTHER WILLY!
It must be the homemade bread wot did it.
After toasting a couple of thick slices I logged on to the BBC's sports pages and got lost in the nets. Love it! I've left a couple of links in 'my fav sites' if you're interested.
The more I read the more I want it to, forgive the pun, kick off!
The Beeb aren't showing an England match till the 23rd June when we play our final Group C game against Slovenia. (Could be the Group of Death) And, depending on how we've been playing, it should either be a flags and pizza match or chewing nails and gin match. The former I hope...
All of England's games will be on BBC Radio Five Live and BBC sports online will do stuff aswell. So there's no excuse to miss anything.
But till then all eyes will be on ITV1 for our first fight against the USA in a few days time. This is bloggo waffle of the worst kind, I haven't rough drafted this post, deciding to let rip whilst the juices are steaming. Talking of steaming I woke in the middle of night screaming! I was enduring a nightmare of horrific proportions and woke up making an awful row.
Yuk!
Maybe it was the night time nuts wot did it.
But after cereals and tea and a brisk rub down with a soapy hand I felt much better.
I am in such an optimistic mood today that even the bathroom ceiling can't floor me, even the mountainous midge bites on my inner arm are nothing more than pin pricks, even the rain feels sweet.
I love my football!
P.S.
Whatever happened to 1966 World Cup Willy?
I expect he's dangling in some wardrobe with his stuffing hanging out yet still bearing kisses of the best kind...The kisses of relief!
I love Willy X
11days
11 days to go till England play their first game in the World Cup.
So Saturday 12th June is a no-go anywhere, no see no-one, no do anything type of day. And that is my most favourite type of day.
They're playing the USA so I expect along with the great national anthems of both countries (!) they'll be glorious showmanship on er...one side. The yanks will be shiny fit looking like brushed stallions, their attitude triumphant and belief in themselves unquestionable.
Meanwhile the England players will walk out to the sound of 'The Great Escape'.
But would I really want it any other way? Would I really want to see the Americanisation of my beloved heart stopping England team? No.
We have to be ourselves and if that means lining up to meet balding Prince William whilst fans dressed like St George shake rattles and yell into mobile phones then so be it.
The crowd will be loud when the game is going well, but then drop to below silent when the players don't play, when the other team run circles around us, or when we're atrocious. There'll be trumpets, horns and drums when we're on a roll and a verse or two of the awful anthem when our backs are once more against the wall. I am so sick of that wall and being against it.
Fabio Capello will stand on the line with arms folded lips glued, his body waiting for someone to kick it into arm waving action, probably when his boys misbehave with the ball. Or he might get animated when the ref or assistant refs (!) decide against us.
I love seeing Fabio gesticulate.
He is Passion with a capital P, and I hope the rumours of him leaving to go to Inter Milan are baked to death like the crust of my pizza pie. I adore what he's done for the England team and for that I send him millions of kisses. His contract ends in 2012 but there's a clause that enables him to walk away after the World Cup, I hope he stays win or not.
At the end of the day John, it's just a game and winning is the very name of that game but there's something else equally important, the surge of excitement that flows through the veins of every fan, be they from Slovenia or Brazil or a tiny island off the coast of Europe...We all feel the same.
The boss and the squad will be flying out to South Africa on Wednesday and what I wouldn't give to be in the overhead luggage bin...
Ta ta!
So Saturday 12th June is a no-go anywhere, no see no-one, no do anything type of day. And that is my most favourite type of day.
They're playing the USA so I expect along with the great national anthems of both countries (!) they'll be glorious showmanship on er...one side. The yanks will be shiny fit looking like brushed stallions, their attitude triumphant and belief in themselves unquestionable.
Meanwhile the England players will walk out to the sound of 'The Great Escape'.
But would I really want it any other way? Would I really want to see the Americanisation of my beloved heart stopping England team? No.
We have to be ourselves and if that means lining up to meet balding Prince William whilst fans dressed like St George shake rattles and yell into mobile phones then so be it.
The crowd will be loud when the game is going well, but then drop to below silent when the players don't play, when the other team run circles around us, or when we're atrocious. There'll be trumpets, horns and drums when we're on a roll and a verse or two of the awful anthem when our backs are once more against the wall. I am so sick of that wall and being against it.
Fabio Capello will stand on the line with arms folded lips glued, his body waiting for someone to kick it into arm waving action, probably when his boys misbehave with the ball. Or he might get animated when the ref or assistant refs (!) decide against us.
I love seeing Fabio gesticulate.
He is Passion with a capital P, and I hope the rumours of him leaving to go to Inter Milan are baked to death like the crust of my pizza pie. I adore what he's done for the England team and for that I send him millions of kisses. His contract ends in 2012 but there's a clause that enables him to walk away after the World Cup, I hope he stays win or not.
At the end of the day John, it's just a game and winning is the very name of that game but there's something else equally important, the surge of excitement that flows through the veins of every fan, be they from Slovenia or Brazil or a tiny island off the coast of Europe...We all feel the same.
The boss and the squad will be flying out to South Africa on Wednesday and what I wouldn't give to be in the overhead luggage bin...
Ta ta!
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