Box of Mystery…

Upon arriving home from work earlier, I found I’d had an unexpected delivery, Dear Reader…

Baby delivery.gif

*What? No, not a baby, Clicky! How the fuck d’ya arrive at baby?*


*No, I know how to arrive at a baby, Clicky… /splutters… Just shut up will ya and let me tell the story…*

…A care package had come in the post from my good friend Poppy Sweet Pea…


*/sings… Sweet peas are made of these… /shakes head… Clicky! What’s with you tonight? Got fun up your ‘ole tonight or sumfing?*

… A neatly packed cardboard box that Loopy had helpfully opened. It was filled with good things – homemade ‘Bounty’ bars, German nougat, treats for the pup, South Korean face masks, a *cries with laughter* cup 


*… cuddly toy… NO! Clicky, not a cuddly toy, for goodness sake…*

… And some heavenly scented bath wotsits, one in the shape of Dave


*Yeah, it’s a good story… Like the rest of the tales in The Underdog Anthology…*

“Oh my god,” I said biting into a properly sized chocolate and coconut sweetie. “This is delicious! I’m gonna have to make something now to send back.”

Thoughtful Man laughed. The idea must have tickle him because he carried on laughing.

Loopy, who’d been hovering around the box of goodies, gingerly sniffed at the smelly flamingo – he’s at that awkward teenage, allergic-to-baths stage. “You can always make her a sandwich,” he suggested helpfully.

“A sandwich? I can’t make her a sandwich!”

“Oh,” Loopy said dropping the flamingo back in the box. “Well, can you make me one?”


*I’ll have to think of sumfing, Clicky…*

I am now going to try out one of the face masks, Dear Reader, so I’ll CYA…


*Or sooner…*

… Have a Song… 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: Sunday Swagger

The Okie Devil has sent through a new missive for us, Dear Reader. He started it on Monday but only finished it yesterday, and now hear today…

Enjoy! 😀


Sup y0?!?!?!?

Today is Saturday.
Yesterday was Friday.                                 Tomorrow is Sunday.

I started writing this last Monday.
Last Monday was July 17th.

Today is July 22nd.

The year…is 2017CE

CE stands for “Constipated Enema.”

Not really.
^Kelly’s Heroes – Theme Song HD (Burning Bridges)^

This video below? Yeah, this is what happens when you start explaining. It gets worse when you start explaining yourself. Before you know it, your are explaining your explanation(s) to those who requested the explanation in the first place.

Man…talk about the blind leading the blind.

Which reminds me…when are we sighted gonna stop being such insensitive pricks to blind people?

Prolly never.


^Mavic Pro flying near Airplanes | Most Illegal Drone Video on Youtube?^

Speaking of airplanes, have you ever been flying along in an airplane, and suddenly wondered…

“Gee. I wonder what would happen if a nuke went off right below our airplane?”

Welp…wonder no more.

^Atomic Effects on Drone Aircraft in Flight^

Yeah…there’s a great deal of comfort in knowing that others have stumbled and bumbled though their lives so that I don’t have to stumble though mine. And the people that have REALLY screwed up in a public way according to public opinion… Yeah, they take a lot of heat so that the smaller screwups don’t have to.

EX: Hitler invading Russia, Stalin signing the Non-Aggression Pact, Brittany Spears shaving her head…things like that.

SAY!!! That reminds me. Wanna see just how easy the concept of “dividing by zero” really is?

^Deadly Disaster at Work !!! Epic Fail Compilation Part 10^

Yeah…dividing by zero is not really much of a challenge at all.

Take something…remove everything…FIN!!!

But adding 1?

Yeah…now there’s a challenge.

Take something…add everything else…woah nelly.

^The Bangles – Hazy Shade of Winter^

Jeremy Corbyn is a plonker, and I can prove it.

Proof Set A of AB

Cade asks for insult Roob says plonker

Proof Set B of AB

I think that pretty much says it all.
^Autograph – Turn up the Radio^

X: You’re gonna try and make this one “fun” are you?

Cade: I try to make all of these whatevers fun.

X: What is the significance of “The Number 67”?

T: Inside dummy. Inside.

Cade: I’ll work on it.

T: How bout you Google it asshat.

Cade: lolz…k.

Cade: Purdue is a well known University.

Z: And that helps you…how…exactly?

Cade: Noted.

Z: WHAT?!?!?

Cade: I’ve had a nagging thought about the pertinence of the concept of University as it relates to worth and value, especially seeing the trouble and troubles of cost and costs.

Z: Oh. Why didn’t you shorten that previous sentence?

Cade: I dunno.

X: Where were we going with this?

Cade: Like I know?

X: Good point.

0: I would like to…

Cade: OH!!! LOOK WHO IT IS!!!

0: Meaning?

Cade: You’ve been awful quiet lately. I’ve not been sure how to interpret that.

0: I’m always there when it matters.

Cade: True enough, fair enough, and other…stuff like that…or something.

0: I was not there when you learned how to write.

Cade: Saucy as ever I see. 🙂

0: 😉

X: So yeah…the number 67…or in this particular case…67′.

Cade: 1967…the year I was born.

B: Been watching a lot of war documentaries this week?

Cade: Hey…I went the entire week without dipping snuff.

X: Your “smoking friends” are gonna dump you like a bad habit if you quit completely.

Cade: That would be ironic.

B: Doesn’t say much about the person and or persons…does it?

Cade: We aren’t what we do, we are who we are…but that’s just my thinking.

B: Leaves a whole lot out doesn’t it?

Cade: Yeah. A path amongst pathways.

0: Why would someone travel a path of convenience amongst a pathway of pathways?

Cade: Path of least resistance?

Z: But you don’t buy that.

A: If I may…you are STILL harping in that head of yours about profiles and profiling.

Cade: I feel an odd safety in your making that particular observation.

A: And why would that be?

Cade: Probably the assumption that a pathway is set…once set, and once set…always set.

A: You don’t feel that accommodations for the freedom of chance could be made in advance?

Cade: Sure it can. Break time, lunch time, arrive time, leave time, leisure time, sleep time, freaky sex time, ad-infinitum.

A: But “the important stuff” will always happen as planned?

Cade: “As planned” seems like a stretch.

A: But…

Cade: BUT!!! Military planners will tell you that 10% effectiveness of a battle plan is usually 100% successful.

A: And what is the goal?

Cade: 12%.

X: 2% can make the difference?

Cade: Was Caen eventually taken?

X: Monty had a tough nut to crack.

Cade: I doubt even Patton would have said differently.

X: But you don’t know.

Cade: I can only guess. Caen was on the eastern side of the line.

Z: But east was the objective…was it not?

Cade: From British and American perspectives…yes.

A: So it’s not a matter of “where were they”…as much as it was a matter of “when were they”…is that a fair assumption?

Cade: Yes. But even those two merge at times.

X: So…the goal is eventually achieved, irrespective of when.

Cade: To say that the lessons of warfare are not great teachers is foolish.

X: And yet…

B: You still refuse to read “The Art of War” by Sun Tzu.

Cade: Yes.

Z: You might be missing some gems.

Cade: So…this is a case of “would you rather be the recipient of the first bullet fired in a war, or be the recipient of the last bullet fired in a war?”

X: We’ll go with that because it illustrates a good point.

Cade: Diplomacy makes too many assumptions via self.

T: WOAH!!! WHAT?!?!?!?

Cade: Just because you personally would accept a deal that you have crafted, does not make it in any way, shape or form appealing to whoever you are “offering” it to.

X: You are thinking about that TV series Taboo with Tom Hardy.

Cade: Same shit. “This should really interest so-and-so” types of thinking. It makes entirely too many assumptions about an unknown via an unknown.

Z: And people get…twisty?

Cade: That’s an assumption based on a known.


Cade: …

X: Hmmmm….

Cade: Sorry…I don’t see it, and even if I do, it’s going to be fleeting.

G: Are you sure about that?

Cade: No.

G: Good answer.

Cade: …

^REZZ x knodis – Premonition^

“On a long enough timeline the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.”

Movie = Fight Club

There is a lot of room for misinterpretation in that sentence. No matter how poignant or pertinent an observation is, now, you have to apply it. Something that I see that gets missed right off the bat? Everything before. As in, now, and everything that led to now, and certainly the now that allowed you to meander across this astute observation.

EX: There is nothing wise about love.

And so, a decision was made at some point, to choose love over whatever other options may have been available at the time. So yeah…the bit above about “proving Jeremy Corbyn is a plonker”, all it takes is time. If you look for something, you will find it.

Q: What did you find within yourself?

A: ?¿?

Q: When?

A: ¿?¿

Yeah…that’s the thing with audit-trails and accounting – it’s about what you miss. Even when if you try and make it about what you don’t miss…it’s still all about what you miss.

/me shrugs
^Rezz – Lucifer [NEST054]^

You have a map that leads to El Dorado. Now…all you have to do…is walk that path.

No room for choice and choices there, eh?

Yer prolly gonna have to stop and piss at some point. You may even need to eat along the way. Which means you are gonna have to crap at some point.

Anyone bring any toilet paper? 

Have you contemplated how in the flying FUCK you intend on hauling tons of one of the heaviest elements known out of that jungle you barely survived walking though, carrying nothing but your own fat ass? Yeah, considerations to be considered there.

Take for example the following video about the search for a sunken WWII Japanese submarine called I-52. Sub I-52 was sunk in The Atlantic Ocean. It was carrying 500 tons of cargo from Japan to Germany. Two tons of which…was gold.

Hmmm…now why on EARTH would someone want to find a sunken Japanese submarine carrying 2 tons of gold? Granted that this search was done back in the mid-1990’s…but a quick search shows that gold is currently going for $1,255.80 per ounce as of July 22, 2017CE. Nevermind the historical significance of these particular bars themselves, which have been sitting 3 miles down on the bottom of the ocean floor since WWII.

32,000 ounces in a ton.
32,000 x 2 tons = 64,000 ounces

64,000 ounces x $1,255.80 = $80,371,000.00

Q: I wonder if there were any skeletons?

A: ...
^Search for the Submarine I 52 (Full Documentary) ||NatGeo||^
Succinic Acid
Citric Acid Cycle
Tree Climbing Goats
Caribbean Hermit Crab
Coconut Crab
Argan Oil
Undergarment (Redirected from Underwear)
Underwear Fetishism
Sexual Fetishism
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
Design Structure Matrix
Orbital Maneuver (Redirected from Deep Space Maneuver)
Delta-Sigma Modulation
MOD 70
Mod (Subculture)
Acne (Redirected from Acne vulgaris)
Fixative (Perfumery)
Lava (Soap)
Dimethyldichlorosilane (Redirected from Dimethylsilicon dichloride)
Organometallic Chemistry
Metal Phosphine Complex
Phosphonium (Redirected from Phosphonium halide)

SO!!! Anti…Foaming…Agent…eh? Hey, no one says you have to buy the shit. You ARE the consumer afterall. Don’t buy it…simple. No, don’t lead a goddamn rebellion and/or crusade. Just…don’t participate. Problem solved. One less to worry about. The message will be received. May take some time…trickle-down being what it is…but they will get the message. You may even know some of “them” in that “they” when you get there.

^Nicky Romero – Toulouse^

I have no idea why this next one caught my eye (other than the obvious) but it did catch my eye, and I watched the whole thing yesterday. It’s a beautifully shot movie. The filmmaker makes some extremely astute observations about empire during the course of the movie.

Of all goddamn things, it made me think of some of my professors in college. Yeah…empire is empire. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. And I’m not attempting to be clever with a reference to Bigfoot there. But I am thinking about my DC Circuits professor. I am thinking about my AC Circuits professor. I am thinking about my Avionics professor. I am thinking about my English Literature professor. These people are very real. They are not some name that can be researched and located via tenure at some local shithole of a college.

I mean…yeah…you could look up that information if you wanted…but what does that tell you? That they exist? That they existed? I see my DC Circuits professor marching around the room talking enthusiastically in a very exited and vigorous fashion about the utter boredom that is Ohm’s Law and Coulomb’s Law.

Q: What do you see?

A: ¿¿¿

Better stated…

Q: Who do you see?

A: ¿¿¿
^NEW BIGFOOT DOCUMENTARY – Wildman: My Search For Sasquatch (Full Movie)^

Weirdos. Non-conformists. We just want shit to return to normal.

If shit like below, sprang and spawned from normalcy, then I would say that a return to insanity that is normalcy is akin to asking for more of the same.


Yeah…if normalcy spawns war and chaos…does that imply that chaos spawns normalcy?

Pretty straightforward, eh?

Welp…I guess it’s this “return” business, or the notion of “returning” in the middle of the storm. Lots can prolly be said about the search for sanity via leaps and bounds. So I guess we need to discuss levels and leveling, and especially as that relates to involvement.

Step 1: Are you involved?

That wasn’t such a long walk now was it? But the topic of levels of removal within levels of removal are going to come up…so let’s ask a different question.

Step 2: Are you involved?

OH! You think that is the same question? Welp, you forgot time again. It was asked at different times under different auspices, so how can it be the same question? Yeah, vagaries can be powerful tools when fishing for information and/or farming information. Which I guess will bring us to framing information. Formatting.

Reichstag Fire

Jabłonków Incident

So now that we are more proximate to the goings on, we can incorporate spin, spins and spinning into our thoughts. Especially taking relativity into consideration with respect to proximities. Along a long enough line, all distances are equal.


Let’s think about that last statement a shade more.

Along a long enough line, all distances are equal.

A Line.

A Segment.

A Section.

A Distance.

A Life.

Anyone else seeing the embedded “B” in those equations?

A Being.

Does that help?


Being A.


Does that help for the return trip?

Hey…all this shit is likely old hat to many. But it’s new to me, I just stumble across it. I personally balance myself out with “there is nothing new under the sun” kinds of opposing viewpoints. Helps keep me unbalanced. Yeah…my personal “balance” is “imbalance.” I excel when I am disoriented and completely out of sorts. This would be classified as my happy and/or quirky side. When I start figuring shit out in my serious mode via my more recognizable serious side? People tend not to like me very much.

Q: I wonder why that is?

A: I have some thoughts.
^Bassheads – Is There Anybody Out There?^

But what has been burning my brain this week, other than a lack of nicotine, is the thought that a rigidity becomes it’s own destructor. What do I mean by that? Saying a something.

EX: I Love You. This measure is established under the auspices of NOT saying it…as in…when someone does NOT say it. When what is said or not said becomes important? Especially as an edifice, welp…it was established under the pretenses of the chaos and destruction that is failure. So who failed who and when? So yeah…when did the concept of love leave that equation?

Sorry, but there is something eerily hollow about the pretenses that would establish such a foundation. Such as, my constantly waxing poetic about the mechanics of relationships as it pertains to ethics. I have no desire to establish anything. But that’s a trap isn’t it? That’s what I’ll be told.

So…are we spinning? Yeah, an acquired personal imbalance has better helped me to acclimate to the naturally occurring balance and imbalance that make up our Universe. The rest of the bullshit is political musings and amusements for those with nothing better to do I guess. If I was meant to find The Halls of Valhala…I’ll find them.

/me shrugs
^Robin Thicke (feat. T.I.+ Pharrel vs Rolling Stones (mashup by MadMixMustang)^

Q: Since when are you NOT part of my life?

A: Only you can answer this.
^Prince Honky Tonk Woman YouTube^

Anything else that anyone wants to talk about? HEY! Lemme message Roob real quick and see if she has anything.



Cade asks Roob for the topic at hand


I like legs. But that is more related to my lust for females. So…let’s talk about something else.

Body Proportions

Women with the ‘perfect pair of legs’ share their secrets

So…I could try and make some female knees weak here by saying something clever like…

“I could travel the length of your legs forever, and never tire of their mysteries”

…but I’m not going to.

There is always something new to be found. And I’m not talking about cancerous tumors and/or razor bumps and/or new varicose veins and/or callouses and shit like that. But with respect to distances and distances traveled, there’s something to be said about such finds, eh?

Is it what you found?

Or that you found it?

Or both?

Or where?

As in…who else was there?

Prolly some other shit in there to consider as well. Such as in the case of a new relationship, a woman is prolly well aware of her “faults” and “shortcomings” as it relates to whatever self-stylized version of perfection they as an individual have adopted. But I just got here. Yeah…I had no idea that was there. Gotta cut me a little slack…k?

I found you interesting enough to find those interesting things that prolly you and only you know about. Which means you found me interesting enough to allow me to surf those otherwise uncharted and unknown beaches. Yeah…yer an ocean baby. And ocean and all of it’s parts. You are to me anyway.

^Melleefresh & Deadmau5 – Hey Baby (Original Mix)^


COMEDY BREAK!!!!!!!!!!!

(Irony interrupts comedy break)

Tetraphenylphosphonium Chloride

Solvent (Redirected from Organic solvent)

K…now you can watch the comedy break video below.

^Funny Sleeping Wake up Scary Pranks Compilation 2017 fails sleep people Try Not To Laugh Challenge^

Temperate Climate

Don’t ask. I mean you can…but no one really ever asks me anything. So yeah, ask away.

^Yello – Limbo (Official Video)^

If ever there was a list of shit to say that will NOT get you laid…I’ve just about perfected it. Not my intent nor my intentions, but I do seek honesty. I seek to be honest. If I recoil in horror because your breath smells as if you’ve been chewing rotten fish flavored bubble gum…I’m prolly gonna mention it. Maybe we should kiss while I have a giant wad of tobacco in my mouth and the evils will offset. Or you can just take a drink of my spit cup. Gotta think of myself in the event that whatever is generating that smell is communicable/contagious.


Which reminds me…I’ve been thinking about girl spit and that ‘girl spit smell’ a lot lately. You know that lingering smell of girl saliva after a lengthy smooching session? Yeah. Not so bad. But then again girls always smell nice. Even when they are wearing perfume.

Speaking of women…this young lady came up in conversation in a round about way today.

Julia Sawalha

Musta been that comment I made earlier in the week about Saffron being the most expensive thing known to mankind.

^Peaches – Fuck the Pain Away^

I’ve run longer than expected. But then again, I wouldn’t have imagined that Roob would suggest something so pertinent to my interests. Maybe she’s just trying to get me used to the fact that I am in fact, single, and that at some point I may bump into a female who is interested in me.

That possibility still confounds me.

I was in for the long haul.

I just…had no idea that “the long haul” would end with me still breathing.

/me shrugs
^Pussy Riot – Make America Great Again^



*Really? …/stares… That’s what you got from that?*


*Okay, okay, Clicky… I’m making dinner, alright?!*

Spice to See Ya, To See Ya…

Earlier this week a 5 year old girl made the news after her father told of how she’d fallen foul of local government enforcers in Tower Hamlets…

A five-year-old girl was left in tears after being fined £150 for running a stall selling cups of homemade lemonade to passersby.

The schoolgirl was accused of trading without a licence by a council enforcement officer last Saturday, her father, Andre Spicer, said. The officer issued a fixed penalty notice demanding the sum – or £90 if the family agreed to pay promptly.

“She was very upset and had to watch Brave a few times to calm down,” he said.

After public outcry, the council rescinded the fine…

A Tower Hamlets council spokesperson said: “We are very sorry that this has happened. We expect our enforcement officers to show common sense, and to use their powers sensibly. This clearly did not happen.

“The fine will be cancelled immediately and we have contacted Prof Spicer and his daughter to apologise.”

And perhaps with all the recent acid incidents, there is an impetus for ‘inadequate busybodies’ to crack down indiscriminately

Across the Atlantic another, more famous, Spicer made an announcement yesterday

White House press secretary Sean Spicer has moved to minimise talk of divisions within the Trump administration after announcing his resignation.

Mr Spicer is reportedly stepping down because he is unhappy with President Donald Trump’s appointment of a new communications director.

But he told Fox News he had “no regrets” about his six-month stint.

Wall Street financier Anthony Scaramucci has been picked for the role that Mr Spicer had partially filled.

Of course, the former White House Press Secretary was fatally wounded early in his tenure, from a savage blow landed by a fat bottom girl…

grocer (n.)early 15c. (mid-13c. as a surname), “wholesale dealer, one who buys and sells in gross,” corrupted spelling of Anglo-French grosser, Old French grossier, from Medieval Latin grossarius “wholesaler,” literally “dealer in quantity” (source also of Spanish grosero, Italian grosseiro), from Late Latin grossus“coarse (of food), great, gross” (see gross (adj.)). Sense of “a merchant selling individual items of food” is 16c.; in Middle English this was a spicer.

As for spice…

spice (n.) c. 1200, “something added to food or drink to enhance the flavor, vegetable substance aromatic or pungent to the taste,” also “a spice used as a medication or an alchemical ingredient,” from Old French espice (Modern French épice), from Late Latin species (plural) “spices, goods, wares,” in classical Latin “kind, sort” (see species). From c. 1300 as “an aromatic spice,” also “spices as commodities;” from early 14c. as “a spice-bearing plant.” Figurative sense of “attractive or enjoyable variation” is from 13c.; that of “slight touch or trace of something” is recorded from 1530s. Meaning “specimen, sample” is from 1790. Early druggists recognized four “types” of spices: saffron, clove, cinnamon, nutmeg.

Seems like it should be 5, so to end this post, Dear Reader, a treat sent to me this week by my favourite Ginger… Have a Song 😉



In The Mood…

I’ve been working up to penning some short stories for the next Underdog Anthology, Dear Reader, due out for Halloween. Writing horror doesn’t come easy for me, so today I dipped into The Articles of Dume (written by my good friend the Doctor), during my lunch break, for instruction and inspiration…

*Fuck! I hope it doesn’t take forever, Clicky, the submission deadline is the end of September…*

Anyhoo… I thought I’d post the last of my three stories, but the first that I wrote, for Volume 1. The other two can be found here and here

*Not yet, Clicky, but I’m trying…*


Succulent Sardines

by Roo B. Doo

During daylight the faded grandeur was all too apparent but in the evening the flickering lamplight transformed the interior of Crossgate House into a Gothic nightmare.

‘Well, this is spooky as hell,’ Helena whispered to herself as she lightly skipped up the stairs toward the darkness of the top floor.

Paul was up there, waiting. All she had to do was find his champagne glass and then they would have a few precious minutes to indulge in the most dangerous aspect of their relationship – risky sex. Helena shivered at the prospect and wondered at the audacity of the man the financial media blithely referred to as ‘Golden Sacks’. Getting your rocks off during a game of Sardines at the company’s weekend retreat, was the epitome of risk-taking.

Helena paused as she reached the landing to duck under the heavy, velvet rope barrier and sign firmly stating, ‘STRICTLY OUT OF BOUNDS’. Big bucks can buy use of historical dumps with disturbing histories, but some areas remained firmly off limits. Especially to drunken financiers with little understanding of the meaning of priceless.

She risked a look over the handrail, Helena but couldn’t detect anybody else on stairs; the sound of muffled laughter in the distance below confirmed that only she and Paul were in his part of the house. The rest of the party were searching for him elsewhere. Only she knew where he’d be hiding in a ‘fuck ugly, black wardrobe’ that he’d discovered whilst snooping about earlier.

Slipping her phone from pocket, Helena shone its bluish white light down either side of a corridor until she spotted a fluted glass on a side table beside a heavy, wooden door. The champagne bubbles inside danced and popped as she approached. Helena downed it in one and gripping the cold brass door handle. Part of her hoped it was locked – they had been told these doors were locked – but it swung open effortlessly under her touch. With a final quick glance back the way she’d come, Helena quietly slipped inside the room beyond.

“Paul?” she hissed as she scoured the room for a glimpse of him. “Paul? Where are you? This must be the most stupidest idea you’ve had yet.”

Helena put down the glass and lifted her phone again to take in the dust sheet covered contents of the room. Along the back wall she spotted a large, black wardrobe. Creeping forward, she could make out grotesque figures carved ornately into the pitch coloured wood. Helena grimaced; the wardrobe was indeed very ugly.

“Paul, let me in,” Helena whispered urgently. She flinched from touching the door knob, a carved fist clutching a human heart. Closer still, the carvings appeared to cavort in the cold blue light streaming from her phone.

“We don’t have long. Fuck! It’s doesn’t take a brain surgeon to know you’ll be hiding exactly where you not allowed to. It won’t take those drongos long to figure it out. Let me in.”

There was a metallic click and the wardrobe door noiselessly and smoothly swung open. Helena sharply stepped inside and her lover closed the door behind her.

“You’re a bloody nightmare, this place is creepy.” Helena lent up and pressed her lips against Paul’s neck as he ran his hands down her back. She felt his fingers dig into her arse cheeks pulling closer toward him. “But, I can feel that you’re already hard. That should save some time.”

Helena slid to her knees and swiftly unbuckled his belt. Within moments she’d freed his throbbing cock from it’s rich trappings and greedily began to suck. After a while Paul sighed.

“You’re a wicked child. So, you liked my game suggestion? No, don’t stop.”

Helena redoubled her efforts. In the oppressive darkness, the sound of her slurping suddenly filled her with disgust. This felt like a risk too far, she decided. She wanted to get it over and she didn’t want her attentions reciprocated.

“You really are very good. He’s hopelessly wrong about the most important things, but he’s quite right about you.”

Helena paused and looked up into the blackness. “Who’s quite right?” Her stomach made a queasy roll. “Paul, I’m not feeling too good. Can we stop?”

“Him. Your banker boss.”

Helena stopped and leant back, putting distance between herself and Paul’s engorged penis. The curve of an expensive leather shoe press into her inner thigh as she sat back. Reaching between her legs, Helena groped the familiar texture of Paul’s exquisitely tailored trousers. Shoe and fabric where linked by a cold, bony ankle encased in a silk sock.

“No, don’t scream. Not yet. And no stopping. Please continue.”

With a cruel yank of her hair, Paul pulled Helena back into a pleasing position. He pumped her head back and forth, pinioning her head in his hands.

“They won’t be able to hear you scream in any event. None of you heard his shrieks earlier,” he grunted and sped up. “Two hundred hungry years of solitude. You know, I was beginning to think nobody was left alive out there.”

Helena gagged at the forced pressure in her mouth. Bewildered tears ran from her bulging eyes. Please let someone come quickly, she thought as she succumbed to the darkness.

“As. You. Wish.”

Paul groaned long and loud as Helena’s body slumped onto him. He cocked his head at the sound of someone smashing the champagne glass in the outer room. Heaving Helena’s unconscious body away from him, Paul licked his lips and grinned.

“Yes, you’re very good and we will do that again. But for now, best to make space for the others. Now, I think it’s my time to gobble.”


Right then. I’d better get on with it and get down to writing…

*/puffs out cheeks and blows… Got a suitable Song to finish with Clicky?*



Who nose? */sniffs…* Updated

On the 23rd April last year, Dear Reader, we were introduced to Pearl Mackie during the half time break of the Man U v Everton FA Cup semi-final match. Pearl would play Bill Potts, the 41st companion of Doctor Who…

*… and seen wearing a t-shirt with the face of pop star Prince, who died two days before, Clicky…*

Tomorrow afternoon, following the Wimbledon men’s tennis final, the 14th Doctor will be announced. There’s speculation that the new incarnation will be a woman…

*Wait, what?! Why are they saying 13? And that opening shot… Grenfell Tower much?*


*It’s like they’re locking the War Doctor away, to be forgotten about Clicky…*


The Hurt Locker received widespread critical acclaim and won six Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Bigelow won the award for Best Director; as of 2017, The Hurt Locker is the sole film by a female director to win in either category.

I can definitely see the new Who turning out to be woman, as I told Legs last week…

Legs and Roob speculate on new Who 1

Legs and Roob speculate on new Who 2

Legs and Roob speculate on new Who 3

*So, who’d you reckon’ll be the new Doctor, Clicky?*

Well, we’ll find out tomorrow, Dear Reader, but for now, have a Song…



And now we know who

*Clicky, what does the start of that remind me of..?*

The Mark

*Oh yeah…*




When You Reach Your Selbie Date…

Sell-by date is from 1972.

Duncan Selbie don’t like being called a ‘Nanny’, Dear Reader, oh dear me gno… He’s irked by the tone of the question…

Top Nanny doesn't like being called Nanny

*/lights up fag… When he says ‘right‘, Clicky, how far right do you reckon he’s finking?*

*That far? …/exhales plume of smoke…*

I don’t know much about him so I fought/fault/fort I’d look him up…

In the corner of Duncan Selbie’s fifth floor office in Waterloo, a stone’s throw from The Old Vic, there is a small plaque bearing a quote from the founder of analytical psychology, Carl Jung: “Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”

CLICKY: Ted Talk?

‘Selbie, who has been chief executive at Public Health England since this autonomous arm of the NHS was forged from 129 health agencies – including the National Treatment Agency for Substance Misuse and the Health Protection Agency – three years ago, looks embarrassed when asked about the quote.

‘The 53-year-old Scot mumbles that it was given to him by a communications executive. He is already blushing about a certificate from the Institute of Healthcare Management that hangs proudly on his wall, and he is clearly uncomfortable explaining why he received it.

‘“I’m very British, you see, so how can I say it’s for ‘Outstanding Contribution for Leadership’?” he smiles, awkwardly. “I’m not North American.”

‘Eventually, he matter-of-factly states what Jung’s quote means to him: “Public health is all about futures that don’t yet exist.”’

*Quite, Clicky! …/drags… Btw, that clip appears to go in and out of sync…*

He certainly talks a good shift in that profile…

As well as economics, Selbie believes that companionship is key to a healthier life. He’s aware that might sound a little new age, but points out that this can be as simple as an elderly person being comfortable in the knowledge they have someone to take them home after a hospital operation.

…but the reality is…

‘He has backed interventionist measures, such as the sugar tax. And he urged hospitals to ban smoking anywhere.’

How does it end? The profile, that is…

In 1961, Bill Wilson wrote to Jung saying that his teachings were a pivotal inspiration for him in co-founding Alcoholics Anonymous. Selbie lacks the audacity of a North American like Wilson to link himself so closely with Jung.

But it’s clear the softly spoken Scot’s plaque means more to him than he lets on. Be it alcohol, tobacco or safe sex, Selbie believes that the country needs to take a good look at itself and its wider problems before it can fully resolve its health issues.

Oh Duncan, take your own advice and… Have a Song…

… And for you, Rear Dealer…

1972 (MCMLXXII) was a leap year starting on Saturday (dominical letter BA) of the Gregorian calendar, the 1972nd year of the Common Era (CE) and Anno Domini (AD) designations, the 972nd year of the 2nd millennium, the 72nd year of the 20th century, and the 3rd year of the 1970s decade.

Within the context of Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) it was the longest year ever, as two leap seconds were added during this 366-day year, an event which has not since been repeated. (If its start and end are defined using mean solar time [the legal time scale], its duration was 31622401.141 seconds of Terrestrial Time (or Ephemeris Time), which is slightly shorter than 1908).[1]

Have a bunch…

Missive From ‘Merica: Wanna Kick Up The Batty Crease, Eh? Eh?


*Oh! Have B…/rolls eyes… Tortured, Clicky…*

So glad you could join us, Dear Reader, for the second half of Cade’s latest missive from ‘Merica. Earlier today I mentioned that ‘ere in Blighty, today’s date is written 13.7, but for my Okie Devil chum in Texas, it’s 7.13

*Yeah I know he lives in Dallas, Clicky…*







^Jefferson Airplane -White Rabbit-^

What’s your hurry? It’s long been “group-think” that if you cannot get what you want, get it via another route. I mean…you want it…right?

If you want it and cannot have it, that must mean that you need it. Which means that all bets are off…game on. Right? Isn’t that how “the game” works? Fairness and sportsmanship go out the window when the money is off the table. That means the only rule is that there are no rules. Why…that must mean that no one is ruling?

RUT ROH!!! We got us a power-vacuum. I wonder if scientific experiments could be a root of this…vacuum? Nah…that shit’s not related in the slightest bit.

      Government = —> HERE

HERE <— = Science

They must be 69'ing each other.
^The Nipple Erectors-All The Time in The World^

I dunno what to tell you. But I do know that I have to figure out as much of this shit as I can. Afterall, my kids are going to potentially ask me about this shit at some point. Ask me why I didn’t do something. Why I didn’t do more. I won’t have an answer for them if those last two questions ever come.

So the best that I can hope for, is that they’ll never be asked. It doesn’t matter whether I had some affect, or had no effect. Those are still both valid and useful in the affect and/or effect department(s), but not all share my opinion on restraint and inaction being just as effective and affective as any verb-based textual representation of action and involvement. I think sometimes we forget that non-action is sometimes the best course. Don’t think so?

OK…let’s take the conundrum of “turning into a skid” when driving an automobile that has lost traction on the contact surfaces between the pavement and tires. It’s completely counter-intuitive. Considering the nature of roadways and/or typical driving conditions, it’s almost foolhardy to even contemplate mentioning this technique, never mind actually teaching it to drivers.

This maneuver is going to take time and effort that many “experts” will say could be better spent teaching other topics…like skid avoidance and/or traction-loss avoidance, or more cognizant awareness of driving in less than ideal weather/driving conditions.

Yeah…nothing creepy about that shit at ALL. Not my car nor my ass sitting in it or anything. To you…I’m just a number on some aggregated stat-sheet. A sheep for slaughter. Better be sure.

^Combichrist – Shut Up And Swallow^

Nothing wrong with morality. I fucking love me some motherfucking morality and shit like that. The problem is…application. Morality has been long since defined. Now all you gotta do…is apply it. Or…not apply it…as it were. Maybe if you aren’t including such a concept in your calculations, maybe some re-evaluation as to your methods with this in mind could help where you fail. Yeah…hands off. Jesus Christ…even the gods appear to be pretty much hands of most of the time.

I don’t actually believe that, but it certainly appears that way much if not most of the time. We just sometimes assume that re-definition of an existing concept somehow nullifies the previous concept completely. Flight of any kind or type doesn’t overcome gravity. It simply operates within the concept of gravity however it does. Whether that be bird, balloon, bug, plane, or rocket. Gravity is about motion. Gravity is ALL about motion. There’s just some contextual differences.

You don’t need wings to stand. Not on this planet anyway. But wings are just one type of wheel. And there are many wheels in wings and the dynamics that allow them to work…but I’m getting off the topic of birth and procreation regulation via smoking/anti-smoking regulation. Maybe that’s a good thing. Not like I intentionally try and confuse myself sometimes or anything.

^Clint Ruin & Lydia Lunch – Meltdown Oratorio^

My head has been kinda void over the past few weeks, and especially the last week. Null…is what comes to mind. Almost like some galactic re-positioning is taking place. Like some something somewhere at some time recently, has set into motion…a large movement and re-positioning. Not really a reset…but more of a recalculation of the existing set.

And I’m not talking about zero here…I mean null as in nothing. The concept of zero is representative of the both ether and the firmament…in motion…both at the same time. But null…is…almost like even zero cannot be calculated. Or at least, in this instance. I tried to write about this the other day, but I lost all of the crap I wrote when my computer crashed. Maybe there was something to that.

Think of it like this...

There are certain segments of The Universe, at all scales, that can be qualified as synchronous in a more easily recognizable form(s) and/or pattern(s). The stars traversing the night-sky…for example.

But this feeling that I’ve had? Imagine if every star in the sky suddenly just started going it’s own way. Yeah, that’s still a quasi-recognizable pattern in that the stars are doing something they normally don’t do. But at some point, the wonder of seeing such an event would prolly turn to terror pretty quickly for some if not most watching it happen.

Not that I feel even the slightest bit of fear, nor am I anticipating a feeling of fear. But maybe there is something to that. Should I be worried if the stars start doing something they don’t normally do? Not like I can do anything about it…so why worry? Why fear?

^The Gentlemen-It’s A Cry’n Shame^

I guess if I need someone else to tell me when I should or should not be afraid, yeah…something is majorly wrong, alright. But I get the feeling that whatever I am being told to be afraid of may not be the only thing that I might want to cast a wary eye at. Which is prolly why I write how I do. Meaning: As me, by me, for anyone but me.

So yeah, stop reading this bullshit and go find shit to be afraid of via someone else.

Or something.
^Cocteau Twins – Pitch The Baby^
Rebellion requires a stimulus, and cannot exist in and of itself.

X: You sure you wanna walk this path?

Cade: No.

X: Good answer.

G: I have a suggestion.

Cade: Oh for fuck’s sake. Who in the fuck is this fuck?

G: I bet you may have some ideas.

Cade: (I’m currently laughing so hard, I cannot think of anything to write, cept this shit right here)

G: Just right…just write.

Cade: Something like that…or something.

G: Exactly.

Cade: As in…

G: If you are writing, you are probably right for writing.

Cade: Oh for fuck’s sake. It’s 04:58 in the morning, and I’ve been up for hours.

G: Maybe it’s time to try for some more sleep.

Cade: I’m sweating like a pig. It’s hot as fuck in here for some reason.

Z: Turn the computer off dummy.

Cade: Good call.

0: …


So much for me turning off my computer, eh?

‘False economy’ warning as councils plan £85m worth of cuts to public health spending

How much money has to be involved, in order for a financial reallocation and/or adjustment, to be considered a “slash”? Or is this more a topical thing. Topical, as in, “it depends on the column in the spreadsheet being decimated you backwards yank swine!!! There are real people going to be affected by these changes!!!”

Starting with you…right? You always have the first grab at the parachute rack…eh? I mean…being a reporter…you are gonna know if the plane is going down before anyone else, right? You gotta survive to tell the tale…right? No care or concern for yourself.

Gotta get on the ground quick, dial the stockbroker, and have them sell those shares you own in the airline you were just flying. They might drop as a result of this crash. It could be fatal. Maybe you should have stayed on the plane afterall. This story better be good. Your career might depend on it.

^ZZ Top – I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide^

I don’t understand the logic in draining the ocean just because you personally are drowning. I think you are important. But I think the ocean is important too. Maybe regret is more at work sometimes than we give credit. Especially in cases of reprisal, reprimand and revenge.

This misconception and/or misunderstanding of equality. The equation is always balanced…even in process. You just may be lagging a bit in figuring out the bits on each side of the equal sign. If you are only focused on one side or the other, what else but anger would rear it’s head when someone intervenes and points this out to you. Welcome to the road to regret. I wonder where it leads? I wonder what your say is in these matters?

So much for the lure of the rabbit hole, eh?
^Laibach – See That My Grave Is Kept Clean (Official video)^

I floated an idea for a story to someone last night. I’ve had this story idea in my head for some time, and figured…what the hell…maybe if I mention a blurb about it to someone else, I can think and develop this idea a little more productively.

The idea was/is…someone, somehow, living to the age of 133 years old. Someone who saw The Year 2000 come in, also gets to see the year 2100 come in. But it doesn’t stop there. Somehow or another, this fuck survives to the age of 1,033 years old.

So yeah, not only did they get to see 2000CE and 2100CE, they make it all they way to 3000CE. A living record, of what it was like, to encounter those, and be able to share those experiences, face to face with others. A living book or living record of sorts.


I dunno. Just have some ideas about data retention and data preservation as it relates to both machines and life.

Maybe “1033” would be a good title.

^Just Between You And Me – April Wine^

So…you’ve worked in order to get paid.

You’ve worked in order to get paid, by someone else.

How are you gonna repay yourself?

I’m just wondering how the ride was prior to payday.

Does that affect the ride post-payday?

Always nice to have options.

Just sayin'.
Happy hump-day.
^The Rings – I Wanna Be Free (1977)^

I like stockings.

The girl wearing them is important too.

Order those in any way you choose.

But we can prolly eventually do without the stockings.

I’m going back to bed.

^ZZ Top ‘A Fool For Your Stockings’^

Maybe a random song for the fuck of it.

^Indigenous – “Waiting”^
^Warren Zevon – Lawyers, Guns and Money^


*Yes, I know I still have ironing to do, Clicky!*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😉