Pay day: back to the Mothership.

it’s standard fashion for me to make a monthly report. Back to the Mothership, to hang with the guys for a while. I’ve not taken the dog with me before, might do this time. Fergus might not the ladder though, but if it’s dark I dare say he won’t really notice. He’ll just think we are climbing over the shed. Lot’s of news to impart this month I suppose, mainly domestic issues, the Diabetic son and all that caperage, world events- taking the knee, brexit ( as per usual) and the conflict blossoming like a fungal infection between murca trump and that demented north Korean twat. Not that I’m that bothered like. Main news for me is sourcing a new stereo, through various twisty turns of fate. Damn my addled memory, like.

Last time I was in the sitting room of the spaceship, just exchanging some banterous banter, and I was half way through rolling a fag. One of the guys was like-


Which confused me, I just assumed I’d need some sort of space suit, it’s not like we were hovering in the Earth’s atmosphere, we were on the back-arse of the moon, right out there. Fuck it, I put me jacket on like instructed and wandered over to the door to the balcony. and, deary me – it really was nippy. A strong wind ruffled my get up as i stepped out there and sparked up a smoke. I could smell the pine needles of the trees on the back side of the moon forest park, way, way down there. i have to admit as I smoked, i got a wee bit dizzy looking down on that. plus we were sitting at a jaunty angle, that really made my head spin.

There is air in space. turns out. oh well.

Half finished, more later obviously.

I’ll just show them the sharps box, and then talk about it from that starting point. Like a kind of jaggy show and tell.


Its those first few steps that are the worst, like an invisible staircase. Well confusing min.



They have been sitting in the shed a while, but I did a wee bit more pintin’ on them old bones today. That, by the way is the technical term for covering them in thick gloopy heavy body paint. Yes. PINTIN’ min. fucking PINTIN’. I made a hoorin’ mess of the table but I’m nae arsed, it is a Victorian Antique but I see it more as a functional item rather than a collectors item.

TREES though, I decamped a heap of unfinished PINTINs to the shed, and stowed some FINISHED ones into me big old MAPAC portfolio thing. Grand. 20170830_172011.jpg

See. the. dark. energy.




Friday OFF.

Today was the end of a short era, the time of the free broadband from Vodafone. I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. Last month I was out the road and never bothered doing my usual monthly HIYAH guys I’m getting the internet free chat session. Och well, at least I’m not getting the moths I had for nothing back dated. I was incredibly honest about the situation though, so points to me indeed. It’s still a BOO-HOO time though.

I was supposed to be doing something with AVON LADLES songs but got distracted playing the Laney Twins and buggering about with the looper pedal. I wouldn’t listen to all of this if I were you, it goes on and on. Very repetitive man. Loopy loops.

An Hour of picking up Dog Shit.

Absolutely a brilliant start to the day. Some folk have a fruit smoothie and rub vinegar into their feet, others a gallon of wine and then a swift reading of the entrails. Other folk check the weather application on their smart phone and then decide on the correct jacket to wear. I did, as it happens have time for a smoke and a coffee before uncovering what looks like a massive pile of dog shit from the garden. Amazing fun as well, lots of different ages of dog shit, fresh and firm, fresh and skittery, and quite old infested with slugs and what I technically call shit fleas. I had intended to continue swiftly through the garden and hole up in the shed to do some bone painting and maybe listen to the Sunday Politics or the Marr show on the tablet through the little speaker, but the sheer SCALE of the dogshit mountain stopped me dead in my tracks.


Quite a massive seam or indeed haul of dog shit all neatly bagged up there. Amazing stuff, and such a ready market for the stuff- not just on those hidden TOR sites and networks but also on Gumtree and FaceBook marketplace. The premium rates go for steaming fresh dog shit, which I always wonder that those particular purchasers wouldn’t be just better off buying a dog. Och well, people are strange. Like the tune covered by Echo and the Bunnylads from that brilliant vampire film says.


GReen. With all that dog shit scooping. Did I mention it took the guts of an hour.

Ran OUT of SPACE. No more pictures?

It was bugging me I suppose. I was staring at the media library on here- and distinctly remembered being able to see, or at least filter unattached images. For a while I pondered it, thinking that maybe my browser was out of date, that wordpress had changed it’s user interface, or perhaps I was just being a bit dottled. Turns out I was in the wrong bit of the wordpress- I needed to be in the proper admin section, fixed that now with a solid bookmark. Had a clear out of duplicate images and unused uploads so I’ve a wee bit more space for pictures. I’m humming and ho-ing about paying for storage so I can upload mp3 files, but I really dont think its warranted at this stage. Bandcamp, you tube etc is pretty handy, plus I can embed stuff on here.

As I was buggering about with the media settings I discovered you can link and copy stuff from Google photos which is pretty handy.


Anti-climb device contraption? NO idea min. They just appeared. Possible mind control nodes: further investigation required nae doubt.



Current developments-

I’m hunting for a switched 8 gang extension cable for the desk and all the cables- so a trip to that Bee and Q place might be in order, to be combined with the usual Saturday shopping and dog walking clusterfuck.


I did end up getting a new phone, a Samsung thing, it’s okay. At least it plays music and has a radio which is nice. It came with a free Tablet which with very little encouragement the wife has decided is hers.


Down over the river. oh that, I remember something about that.


It’s not very clear in the picture, but it was scrawled in marker pen, possibly a professional Sharpie- Twitter tags, hashtags, but I’d read before somewhere that particular name and case.

#HollieGrieg #AberdeensShame

And it was probably from here:

Some other choice messages give you a general idea of the tone of the writer-


So, a tree hugging hippy- probably a Green Voter, and probably one of those people who think Wings over Scotland is destroying the Yes movement single handedly by posting well written, concise and well researched blog articles that leave the traditional print media crying and wanking.


Again, my bad photo taking.

Stand Together: Fuck the Government. It’s probably the work of that utter-nutter Peter Dow. ( That’s just my gut feeling at this stage in the investigation)

Anyhow that’s pretty much it for the dog walk tonight. Did see a great big split open wasps nest but exited sharply before the dog noticed it. He was snuffling away when I figured out exactly what the insane angry buzzing was, and exactly why it was coming from around my feet.


Swapped my silver laces into my boots. Much better. The rapey Ropey ones seem to work better in my garish day glo green trainers anyhow.


Inspecting a recently abandoned campfire. Must have been a rare old time.

We were just heading along the cobbles after the bridge, heading for that big open playing field bit, passing the little football pitch aside the old abandoned bowling club when the dog got startled by what sounded like one of those fucking ned-scrambler bikes starting up. as we walked all was revealed, some guy exercising his Dog by letting it try and catch one of those remote control racing car things. really fucking noisy.

VROOOM VROOOMMMMMM. I prefer the traditional amble at evening to be honest, but I guess it takes all sorts, and all sorts pick all different breeds of mutt.

Oh yes. The Bones. Drying out nicely after being bleached. Dumped them on the table in the shed. Think I might paint them, varninsh them, or something and maybe put screws in them for attaching to the stinky witch stick. Ongoing project obviously.


That was the ither day- now spread in the shed table. So much junk in there. So many mowers and signs. Great stuff. IMG_0951

peace you twats. CYLYBOC.