I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

God, I want so bad to be British, then I can sit in front a tele on Christmas night, pulling my Christmas cracker (ooh, does that sound naughty?) and watching Doctor flippin' Who, like the rest of you lot!!!

(Instead, I'll take a walk round to gander at the Christmas lights in the neighbourhood, come home, give the cats their prezzies, pop some popcorn and maybe watch some old Dr Who episodes and assorted other DVD's, listen to some Christmas music...and go to bed.)

This song just totally cracks me up, year after year! So very, very true...

I'd planned to make turkey cutlets in butter curry sauce tonight--but now out of the blue, I'm in the mood for a sloppy joe sandwich! Go figure.

Yeah, I could go for some good ol' American "comfort food," tonight, a sloppy joe and some well cooked and buttered green beans? Oh yeah.

You can purchase sloppy joe mix in a can--just pour it into your browned ground beef--but I prefer it the "old fashioned" way, myself.

2 SLOPPY JOE RECIPES MY MUM USED:

Recipe #1

1 pound ground beef (mince)
1 medium onion, diced
1/2 tsp each, salt and pepper
2 Tablespoons of all-purpose flour
1 cup of water
1/2 Tablespoon worcestershire sauce
3/4 cup of tomato catsup

In a deep skillet, brown ground beef with diced onion, until beef is brown and crumbly, and onion is soft. Drain off fat. Stir in flour, until well blended. Stir in water, then stir in remaining ingrenients. Simmer 15 minutes over low heat, stirring from time to time. Serve over toasted hamburger or sandwich rolls, either open face (on top of the open rolls-to be eaten with a knife and fork), or you can also serve as a hot sandwich.

Recipe #2

1 pound ground beef
1 Tablespoon onion powder (or 2 heaping TBLS finely minced onion)
1 cup tomato catsup
1/2 Tablespoon sweet pickle relish (or sweet pickles finely chopped)
1 Tablespoon brown sugar
1 Tablespoon worcestershire sauce
1 Tablespoon vinegar
1 tsp prepared yellow mustard
salt and pepper to taste or, for more kick, chilli powder to taste (optional)

Brown ground beef in a deep skillet, drain off fat. Stir in remaining ingredients and simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 12 to 15 minutes. Serve over thick slices of bread or toasted hamburger buns. (May also be served over cooked white rice, in a pinch)

What the heck, I'm in no hurry to go out in the rain and snow to do my blasted shopping...let's do one more game, ey?

The Name Game

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet you ever had (or name of friends/family pet) & last or current car)

Buttons Newyorker

2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)

Coffee Oreo

3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name)

N-Gol

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite shade of color, favorite breed of animal)

Indigo Friesan

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)

Beth Albany

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)

Golna

7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink when you were a child)

The Cerulean Orange Crush

8. YOUR BUTCH SPORTS NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers or grandmothers)

Gladys Bertha

9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)

Hypnose Snickers

10. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names..or vice-versa)

Marie John

11. TV WEATHER PRESENTER'S NAME: (Your 5th grade/5th year teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)

McDonough Missoula

12. BOND VILIAN OR BOND GIRL: (your favorite season/holiday, flower if a girl, or your favorite sport, brand of beer/alcohol if a guy)

Autumn Iris

13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”)

Apple Jeansie

14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)

Potatoes WhitePine

15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your current fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”)

The Writing Rain Tour

Okay, here's a new one (for me anyway):

Merely Google your first name and add the word "needs" after it, and post the first ten responses!

1. NANCY needs: to learn what the moon is
2. Nancy needs: jail time!
3. Nancy needs: her own personal Boeing 757 kept on standby with 16 dedicated Air Force personnel to cater to her every whim. (ooh, I like that one!)
4. Nancy needs: to find the stairs in Mattie Jensen's apartment.
5. Nancy needs Your hand guiding her through.
6. Nancy needs: Your help.
7. Nancy needs: a vacation! (Oh, so true)
8. Nancy needs: some vino pronto
9. Nancy needs: Palin's advice on clening house (What? Will she tell me to just shoot the dust away, like it's some sinking red commie bastard?)
10. Nancy needs: to be spanked for her poor leadership! (Ohh--sounds kinky.)

During a press conference in the "war zone," an Iraqui reporter apparently threw his shoes at George Bush--and, of course, Bush being obtuse, merely found the incident "bizzare."

Acutally, in Arab countries, showing someone the bottoms of your shoes, is a big insult--it's the equivilent of spitting in someone's face, more or less. If Bush wasn't such a moron, he might have thought to ask someone to advise him on manners and cultural stuff, in foreign countries--erm..maybe not.

I mean, this is a president who thinks nothing of the fact that a dozen times more innocent people died as a result of his personal war--than died on 9/111, that is quite pleased with himself when he swears like a longshoreman at important affairs of state, who enjoys making rude gestures on camera that will be seen by billions of people, telling off-colour jokes in front of ladies...a "man" who is nothing more than a coarse, bigoted, tempermentally childish and incredibly stupid so-called "leader,"--it the fact that he doesn't grasp that he had just been the recipient of a grave insult--come on, are we really surprised by that?

Tonight, on their website, as part of the Dr Who Advent calendar, BBC will release a picture of the new cyber-controller, as well as views of Tennant and Morrisey--or so I've been told, at any rate.

Here's a pic that someone just sent me:

Wow, I just checked a Dr Who blog, where the person was commenting--very nicely, by the way--about going to see Hamlet sans David Tennant.

This woman seemed to have enjoyed herself, and made the mistake of saying (quite innocently, mind you) that Tennant didn't need to be there, because the cast really did a splended job without him.

She got 31 comments---23 of them, seemingly from teenage girls whinging and moaning about not getting to see Tennant perform, and then extolling the man's acting--and yes, even his sexual--virtues. Aye-yi-yi!

4 more were screaming and even swearing at the woman, for daring to say that "Tennant didn't need to be there."

Wow. Holy smokes. You'd think the poor woman had stated that these girl's mum's were ugly and were failed "Britain's Got Talent" contestants!

Only FOUR commentors agreed with this woman--and only ONE person commisserated with Mr. Tennant and wished him a good recovery.

Wow.

I mean, I really would like to shake some of these fan-girls out of their little dream world. God, Tennant must have been in so much horrendous pain--and to soldier on that way...obviously if he pulled a sickie at the last possible minute, it must have been a terrible decision he had to make.

But, it was the RIGHT decision--and if he's got common sense--which I didn't have, in '91---he will over-ride his desire to get back to doing a job he loves, and spend at least a couple of months in therapy, getting his back in shape again, so he doesn't end up in a wheelchair someday...like I almost did, ignoring the doctor's orders.

You hear me Tennant, wherever you are? Don't be stupid like I was. I loved my job as well, and went back to work 2 days after my first bad injury--and a few months later slipped that disc, and almost spent the rest of my life, flat on my back--so, resist the urge, ya' daft wee bhoy! Slow down and take it one day at a time, and you'll be all better before you know it...you play a Time Lord---time will indeed pass. You've got another 40 or 50 years of playing parts ahead of you, perhaps Hamlet will roll around again, ey?

okay, I know Mr. Tennant will never read that, but, that's what I'd say to him, if I could--well, maybe a bit more politely, mind you, being that's he's a total stranger.

Anyway, it really is too bad that people are dissing Hamlet and the RSC over this. I'd give an arm and a leg--and part of the other arm, for the privlege of seeing the RSC doing Hamlet live--no matter whom is in the lead role.

Should the Royal Shakespeare Company offer either refunds or other tickets? Possibly, that's not for me to say...but then again, if these people only bought tickets to see Tennant, and not the play, maybe they were never the types to appreciate Shakespeare--or the ensemble's performance--anyway?

I did a post a while back, that was simply some of the local news stories this weekend: the local ski area opened for the season, some teenager tried to set fire to his school, a drink driver got arrested after running a red light, a married couple got drunk and bit each other...

I got this totally stupid comment, in GERMAN, from someone who obviously WASN'T commenting on the post!

Author: Günter Komoll (IP: 77.128.205.145, BAAcd91.baa.pppool.de)Email:
> > heiland@online.msUrl: http://www.blog.de/media/audio/amor1/2540906 Comment:
> > Adam Amor Christus sohn of Good http://www.adamamorchristus.blog.de
> >

Obviously, it's not about the post, is it? Which means that it's SPAM.

And, obviously, it's something stupid about Christ---even tho' I can read Germon, it's pretty obvious--and I don't think he's wishing me merry christmas--he's promoting a blog!

Well...not according to blog.co.uk

When I reporte this arsehole as a spammer, this is the stinking reply I got:

What exactly is your issue? That post and sound file do not appear to violate
> the ToS.
>
> Kind regards
>
> blog.co.uk Customer Support
>

MIND YOU, I have no idea what the hell TOS is supposed to mean--I suppose some of you computer geeks do, but I'm not into computereze, and haven't a clue what the hell this bloke is on about.

apparently this website supports these christain punters, trying to push their religion--and their blogs-- onto anyone and everyone on blog.co.uk, regardless of the bloggers religious beliefs, and it doesn't matter if the comments have anything to actually to with the post they are commenting on.

What I am reading here, is that blog.co.uk think it's okay for crazy Christans to flog their stinking websites at us whenever they want--because of course, Christians can't possibly be spammers?

These are real book titles--some are long out of print-such as the scouting books for boys from the early 20th century (back in the days when a book said that a man "ejaculated," it meant he made an exclaimation), some are books you can actually find on Amazon.com

PORNOGAMI--That's right, how to make pornographic oragami.

HOW TO READ A BOOK

SCOUTS IN BONDAGE

SCOUTING FOR BOYS

TEACH YOUR TODDLER TO SHOOT

HOW TO AVOID HUGE SHIPS

THE COOKIE SUTRA--(yes, it is just what it sounds like...EWWW.)

TRACTOR ARCHAEOLOGY

OLD TRACTORS AND THE MEN WHO LOVE THEM

101 USES FOR AN OLD FARM TRACTOR

101 SUPER USES FOR TAMPON APPLICATORS

BOMB PROOF YOUR HORSE

THE BIG BOOK OF LESBIAN HORSE STORIES (Geez, how did mum miss buying me that one?)

CELTIC SEX MAGIC

Love this one--COOKING WITH POOH

POOH GETS STUCK

NATURAL BUST ENLARGEMENT WITH TOTAL MIND POWER

HOW GREEN WERE THE NAZIS?

THE STRAY SHOPPING CARTS (trolleys) OF EASTERN NORTH AMERICA

PROCEEDINGS OF THE EIGHTEEENTH INTERNATIONAL SEAWEED SYMPOSIUM

THE MAKING OF A MORON

BOOK (no really, that's the name of Whoppie Goldberg's book)

LETTING GO: A HISTORY OF AMERICAN INCONTINENCE

EVERYTHING YOU'LL NEED TO REMEMBER ABOUT ALTZHEIMER'S

FINDING JOY IN ALTZHEIMER'S

DESTINED FOR DESTINY (Geo. W. Bush's book)

WHAT BIRD DID THAT? A DRIVER'S GUIDE TO BIRDS OF NORTH AMERICA (Yes, someone wrote a guide to identifying bird poo on your windshield, I kid you not)

GAMES YOU CAN PLAY WTIH YOUR PUSSY

ANYBODY CAN BE COOL..BUT AWESOME TAKES PRACTICE

HOLISTIC AROMA THERAPY FOR ANIMALS

THE FOLD OUT BOOK OF THE HUMAN BODY--1906 REPRODUCTION EDITION

COME ON SHORE AND WE WILL KILL AND EAT YOU ALL

FART PROUDLY: THE WRITINGS OF BENJIMIN FRANKLYN YOU NEVER READ IN SCHOOL

THE JOY OF UNCIRCUMCISING

FORESKIN'S LAMENT: A MEMOIR

CASTRATION: THE ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES (DOH--Gee, can't imagine what those would be)

THE MINUTE AND A HALF MAN

AMERICAN BOTTOM ARCHAEOLOGY

THE TRUTH ABOUT CHUCK NORRIS: 400 FACTS ABOUT THE WORLD'S GREATEST HUMAN

BOWL BETTER USING SELF-HYPNOSIS

YOU ARE WORTHLESS: DEPRESSING NUGGETS OF WISDOM SURE TO RUIN YOUR DAY

(By the same author) JUST GIVE UP!

ONE LONG PICNIC

BILLY AND HIS STEAM ROLLER

THE DAY JOE WENT TO THE SUPERMARKET

THE LITTLE CAR THAT WANTED A GARAGE

MORNING NOISES

WHAT TO DO IF YOUR TOILET BLOWS UP

WHEN MOTHER LETS US MAKE PAPER BOX FURNITURE

75 EXCITING VEGETABLES FOR YOUR GARDEN

ORAL SADISM AND THE VEGETARIAN PERSONALITY

GREEK RURAL POSTMEN AND THEIR CANCELLATION NUMBERS

THE MADAM AS ENTREPENEUR: CAREER MANAGEMENT IN HOUSE PROSTITTUTION

STRIP AND KNIT WITH STYLE

WHAT IS END-BORING AND HOW DOES IT WORK?

ARE WOMEN HUMAN?

I WAS TORTURED BY THE PIGMY LOVE QUEEN

HOW TO WRITE A HOW TO WRITE BOOK

IF YOU WANT CLOSURE WITH YOUR RELATIONSHIP START WITH YOUR LEGS

HOW TO MAKE LOVE WHILE CONSCIOUS

CHEESE PROBLEMS SOLVED

BE BOLD WITH BANANAS (okay, i'm not going any further with that)

LIGHTWEIGHT SANDWICH CONSTRUCTION

DRAWING AND PAINTING THE UNDEAD

FANCY COFFINS TO MAKE YOURSELF

PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW THEY'RE DEAD: HOW THEY ATTACH THEMSELVES TO UNSUSPECTING BYSTANDERS AND WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT (Ohhh--so THAT'S what's wrong with me!)

THE DEVIL'S CLOTH: A HISTORY OF STRIPES

GLORY REMEMBERED: WOODEN HEADGEAR OF ALASKIN SEA HUNTERS

ACROSS EUROPE BY KANGAROO

THE FLAT-FOOTED FLIES OF EUROPE

SUPERFLUOUS HAIR AND ITS REMOVAL

PARISH MINISTER'S HATS

HOW TO BE A POPE: WHAT TO DO AND WHERE TO GO, ONCE YOU'RE IN THE VATICAN

HOW TO GOOD BYE DEPRESSION: IF YOU CONSTRICT YOUR ANUS 100 TIMES A DAY--MARLARKEY OR EFFECTIVE WAY?

LIVING WITH CRAZY BUTTOCKS

BLUE-GREEN EYESHADOW SHOULD ABSOLUTELY BE ILLEGAL

THE PROSTATE: A GUIDE FOR MEN AND THE WOMEN WHO LOVE THEM

INTERPERSONAL VIOLENCE: THE PRACTICAL SERIES

MALE GENETALIA OF BUTTERFLIES OF THE BALKAIN PENNINSULA

KNITTING WITH DOG HAIR

i've got blood on my keyboard charlie just nailed my left index finger with his very sharp claw while I was playing with him. Bleeding like a stuck pig. typing one-handed--with an a key that doesn't like to work unless one presses down hard on it

owww. my finger's throbbing--it's deep, man. thankfully not slice but a puncutre and i just had my tetnus shot back in january, so I'm fine...must remember to buy band-aids (sticking plaster) though--I'm using toilet paper.

charlie didn't mean it--he got carried away, and swiped at the long feather i was holding, and got my finger instead. it happens. people hurt you intentionally, animals seldom do.

Wow, all weekend long, the firetrucks and police cars have been screaming up and down Glen Street and around the city. Car accidents, slip and falls, heart attacks, you name it.

We had that big 2 day snow and ice storm a few days ago, and emergency services were dead quiet--I didn't hear a single siren on Thursday, and only one Friday. Saturday--nothing but. Today, the city fire truck has gone by no less than five times--and, the hooter at the West Glens Falls Volunteer Fire Department and Rescue a half mile away, just went off AGAIN, two seconds ago....third time in the last three hours. Not a very restful weekend for either the volunteer firemen and EMT's out in the suburbs, and professional firemen and paramedics here in the city.

What is going on?

Must be a full moon?

Like the company my dad belonged to, in the village I grew up in, the West Glens Falls Fire Company is 100% staffed by volunteers from the comunity. No one gets paid for what they do, instead, the department receives funds from the state, county and town, private and corporate donations. Volunteers take formal state mandated fireman's training courses, at special training facilities, as well as performing their own training. Sometimes, this includes deliberately burning a donated abandoned building, for training in real-life type of situations.

The West Glens Falls department mainly serves the suburban town of West Glens Falls, but they also assist other fire departments, including providing back up support to the professional firefighters within the city of Glens Falls, and even have crossed county lines, by helping out Saratoga County departments, during a big fire or rescue.

Here's what WGFFC says about themselves, on their website:

Located at the Southern end of the Adirondack Mountains. Bordered by the Hudson River, and Interstate 87. The West Glens Falls Fire Company # 1 responds to Medical Emergencies, Motor Vehicle Accidents, Hazardous Conditions, Water Rescue, Structure fires, Brush and/or Forest Fires, and any other type of Rescue. Protecting Lives and Property for West Glens Falls, the Town of Queensbury, and surrounding Communities, since 1947.

These volunteer fire companies serve the community in other ways, as well, by sponsoring saftey programmes for school children and adults, holding community events--such as meetings, dinners and dances--in the fire hall, and hosting firemen's "field days"--basically a fund-raising fun fair, complete with game booths and rides.

Also, they may hold family picnics/cookouts and other fun events, specifically for the firefighters and their families.

Volunteer firemen often are required to leave their jobs, or perhaps their nice warm beds on a bitter winter night at 2am--when temperatures can dip here, to minus 20 or 30 F--to go fight a fire.

Besides the big hooter on top of the volunteer firehouse--one that can usually be heard for miles--to alert firemen of a call, in the early 70's, fire departments began issuing special radio boxes at home, that sound an alarm, and tell them where the fire is, and how bad it is--a "code one" in my dad's day, was potentially bad, a "code two" was probably just a trash fire or grass fire, with no immediate danger involved. If the despatcher said excitedly, "It's in the air! It's in the air!" Well, then brown human organic matter has just hit the venaliting device and the structure is fully involved already.

That radio box used to scare the pants off me, in the middle of the night, when I was a wee kid.
"WAH-WHOO-WHOO-WHOO--BEEEEEEEP-WAH-WHOO-WHOO-WHOO! CODE ONE FIRE, CODE ONE FIRE..."

Nowadays, I suspect they use pagers. Lucky kids don't have to wake up a 2am, scared of the sudden noise--dad always kept his radio about 4 feet away from the bed, WHY he had to have it turned up to full blast, I'll never know...I suspect the damned thing even woke up the Australians, on the other side of the world!

I remember dad taking me to a few fires--one time leaving church right after holy communion to go put out a dumpster (skip) fire--tho' I suspect he was just bored with the homily, and wanted to get the hell out of there, ha-ha.

I remember, it was during the big hostage crisis in the winter of '79, and Dunlop tire store had a big anti-Iran message in its window--and a week later, it, and the Maaco auto painting shop that was next door, burned in a spectacular fire. I was home from my college outside of Syracuse, NY, for the two week Christmas break, and he'd just picked me up from the bus station. We were in downtown Albany, NY and heard our volunteer fire department's siren go off (each department had it's own unique sounding hooter, so one could easily tell them apart, after a while). We looked towards the village, to the north, and already could see a distant glow in the sky. Dad was dressed in his best suit, so he opted not to respond that night--at least, that's the reason he gave me, I don't know if it was right or not. By then--tho' I only know this in hindsight years down the road-- he was already in the very early stages of emphasemia, so it could have been he just wasn't feeling up to it...or maybe he just didn't want to freeze his arse off, handling a hose...who knows.)

Anyway, it was a bitterly cold winter night--that year, it got down to 25 below zero F, on Christmas week--I remember it was too cold for me to sleep in my attic bedroom, which was only heated by an electric fire--so I slept on the sofa--and still shivered all night...there was ice 1 inch thick on the corners of our windowsills, inside the house! So, the firehoses were freezing up, and with a tire store and a car painting place--a formula for disaster--that place went up like it was made of matchwood. The heat was so intense, that even tho' we were parked on the far side of the car park--a good 1000 yards plus away--we could still feel the heat. I still remember sitting there in the car, watching explosions, and listening to Stevie Wonder singing "Send one your love" on the radio--it was an eeire feeling...ironcially, the next song to play was--not joking, "Too Hot" by Kool and the Gang. How bizzare was THAT?

Everyone speculated that the big fire was in retaliation for the anti-Iran slogan, but later, fire investigators declared that it was started by something normal, like an electrical short or carelessly discarded cigarette or something, I forget now.

As some of you may know, one of my pet peeves about the internet, is that is seems to be dumbing down readers.

I left a couple of Dr Who fan fiction writing websites, because amateur writers were actually being encouraged to write stories that look like this:

He watches as the question is asked of the other him....and knows when she turns to him and asks him the same question, just what his answer will be.

Suddenly she grabs his suit-jacket lapels and he feels her soft lips against his.

INSTEAD OF LIKE THIS:

Lying there on top of him, she was none too pleased when he didn’t appear to be all that grateful. “What in Rassilon’s name–? Donna,” the Doctor huffed, his surprised face only inches from hers, “uh–now really isn’t the time or place to suddenly get amorous. Besides,” he said, in a slightly indignant tone of voice, “I thought you said that I was too skinny–or too alien, or a narrow streak of…something.” Then, he noticed Matheen standing above him, training her weapon on them.

Now, I'm NOT saying the content of either story is better than the other--I'm reffering solely to the writing STYLE.

In case anyone is wondering, stories for people over 14 years old--whether fan fiction, general fiction, essays, magazine articles or research papers, are SUPPOSED to be written in proper PARAGRAPHS.

Sure, to accomodate internet readers, I have toned down my writing very slightly, and made my paragraphs somewhat shorter...but I REFUSE to write in single or double sentence paragraphs--that just looks like 2nd year reader writing, and not something a perfectly literate ADULT should be expecting from their reading materials!

I write for grown-ups, not chidren. I could write for children, I suppose, and when I do, then I will write in single-sentence paragraphs.

Not everyone, mind you.

There are still people out there, who are awake and aware and using their brain cells, to choose what they read--but at least a nice-sized chunk of people, both young and old, seem to be more and more inclined to be oblivious to the fact, that their reading choices on the internet--not only content, but also length, grammer and even style--shapes who they are, and how smart or dumb they choose to become.

You can indeed, deliberately dumb yourself down--whether or not you are aware of the fact that you are doing it. YOU are in control on the internet, of what your brain absorbs, and how you want to read or write. If you want to dumb down yourself by writing in text-speak, or preferring single sentence or double sentence paragraphs, over properly written text, than have at it.

If it's a fiction story, essay or research paper--it HAS to be written in proper paragraphs, if it's being SERIOUSLY written. If you know how to write, there's no excuse for not writing properly. If you read well, there's no excuse for you to be asking--or expecting--ANY writer to dumb down his or her work for you.

NOTE:

In journalism, often text is broken down to single or double sentences, and that's the normal journalistic style--because journalism writing is an entirely different genre from regular writing style.

Also, scripts and poetry of course, can also be written in single and short sentences, and personal journals--such as persoanl blogs--are also sometimes allowed this exception.

Okay, said my piece--DISCUSS???