Has Anyone Ever Seen Them Together?....

So Latoya Jackson has finally arrived at the Jackson mansion (you know the one an apparent bankrupt can rent for $100,000 dollars a month), so, still no-one has ever seen them both together, has Michael finally severed all relations with his male persona, destined to live out his life as the female side of his personality (ie Latoya) to avoid paying off the bankruptcy payments. One things for sure, with all his mediocre tunes rocketing back to the top of the charts (in the face of today's lack-lustre pop opposition, is that really a surprise) at least all the debts should now get paid off.

Rumours the the Reverend Jesse Jackson is neither confirming nor denying that they are related are lending credence to the story that the God-bothering political activist has no idea what to do with himself now that there's a black president.

Anyone For Tennis?... Apparently Not...

As many people will be aware, I'm not exactly the worlds biggest sports fan.

I 'support' West Ham in the sense that as an English male, one has to 'support' someone or be considered a social retard, but much to the amusement of my friends that are 'real' football fans, I haven't known the names of any of the team for about fifteen years.

With this level of sporting interest in mind, I got up today and thought I might make a brief foray into the sporting world, and watch a bit of tennis, Wimbledon is on after all, and even if the actual sport bit gets boring, there's very little down side to watching occasionally cute women dancing about in little white skirts is there?

Only there's none on. None at all. Not a ball to be found. I now gather that I'm a victim of the English weather here, because my recollections of there always being a bit of Wimbledon to watch on the middle Sunday, may well spring entirely from the fact that normally they're trying to catch up after a week of dodging the rain. So it looks like I'm not destined to make that foray into sport after all.

Is that Fred Perry chap still quite good?

Walton on Thames to Melbourne: A Journey...

As some of you will know it's now only four months until my wife and I up sticks and move from Leafy Surrey in the UK to Melbourne Australia.

This impending journey is part of my reason for starting to write this blog again, I've found I'm a bit crap at keeping in touch with people on Facebook, simply put, I don't really have much to contribute in the 'normal' daily run of things.

I think I'm apparently quite good however, at writing a running stream of conciousness in the form of a blog. I am, after all, well known for my ability to rant, and what's a blog if it's not an online rant eh?

So, there will be, at no particular rate of interval, my thoughts on the great trauma on moving to the other side of the world, liberally accompanied by my less than interesting comment on life the universe and everything.

For those who don't know, I'm also currently trying to write a novel, the culmination of years of telling people I had the ability to write without ever having to prove it. Well now I'm putting my money (or at least my time) where my mouth is. I'm a fair way into it and yes, I do hope to get it published one day, even though I'm well aware there are about a billion authors out there these days. One of the disadvantages of mass education is that every person who can read also thinks they can write, and yes, I count myself among that number, but who knows, I might get lucky.

Todays "Things About Moving To Another Continent You Never Knew"
For 43 years I have, like everyone else amassed a huge amount of pointless possessions that serve no purpose, and I'm about to spend a large part of the next four months trying to get rid of the bloody things, so if you have at any point wandered about my home and thought to yourself "Ooooh, I would'nt mind that"... Please ask now, don't be shy, that item could now be yours, for the once in a lifetime price of "Nothing At All".... No really, I have to throw all this shit away otherwise!!

William Bligh, Not Likely To Get Lost Winner 1789

As usual Hollywood has done a great disservice to an Historical figure in the person of William Bligh, RN, Commander of Her Majesty's Armed Vessel Bounty.

I've just read his memoirs, "A Voyage To The South Sea" in which he relates the story of how he manages to get 18 of his comrades across 3618 miles of the Pacific Ocean, with very little rations and no weapons in a boat about twenty five feet long, for 41 days, while the mutinous Fletcher Christian and his chums park their collective backsides on Pitcairn having decided a life of shagging natives and eating coconuts is preferable to getting home to good old Blighty.

Now I'm as lazy as the next man, but I hardly think this demonstation of the idleness of the average Englishman in the 18th century is justification for poor old Bligh, arguably one of the greatest navigators England has ever known based on his exploits, to become the villain in at least three Hollywood adaptations of the Bounty mutiny.

Though Mel Gibson is on one of them, so you were always on a safe bet that somewhere in the story an Englishman was being misrepresented I guess.

History: My Part In It's Downfall

As I've spent the last few years gradually becoming a History geek, I've decided I might occasionally share my thoughts on any given Historical subject I'm reading up on, here, for the general enjoyment of anyone bored enough to be reading my blog. If you find it interesting, good-oh, if you don't, I guess you'll find something else to read!!

Michael Jackson...Death & Disinterest...

As a great lump of the (let's be honest) less imaginative portion of the Western world mourn the passing of pop music's biggest waste of space, let's please spare a moment's thought for those among us who have no interest either in his music, or the revelations about his not so private life over the last couple of decades.

I don't care if "Thriller" is considered a turning point for pop music, I was a Mod when it came out so I'm hardly likely to have even listened to it am I?

I don't care if he had plastic surgery or not, he went from an average looking black guy to a weird looking white guy, hardly a resounding success for the "Nip & Tuck" fraternity I would have said.

I don't care if he crossed the line in his levels of intimacy with the children of freaky families dumb enough to let their off-spring stay over in the house of a confirmed bachelor with lots of money and playground rides in his back garden. They weren't related to me after all.

All I know is that poor old Farrah Fawcett had a large part of her life overshadowed by a $6 million dollar man made of bionics, then she had her death overshadowed by a $6 billion dollar bankrupt made of plastics. Gutted for her.

Long Time No Speak

There's been no real acceptable reason for my absence other than a complete lack of inspiration, even when MP's are screwing us in every direction and I'm on the verge of making the biggest move of my life, ie moving to Melbourne, but there you go, it's not like I'm going to apologise, accept it and read on... or not... the choice, as they say, is yours....