Welcome to my blog, invisible inkblot. The rise of the blog means that the fourth estate can be free once more..YAY!.. This page is merely a tiny inkblot, invisible in the vastness of cyberspace. But it's my little blot to nurture and explore, so mote it be.
Here you'll find links to my other inkblots and to my video blog, invisible inkvlot. It sounds german, it isn't.
Follow the links and you will find some pics from our adventures in Germany over the new year period. It was baltic!! I love the fact that the history of 20th century Europe is contained in one city - Berlin. Go there if you haven't been already. That's an order!!
Oui, il est excitement! Bill Gates somehow got Jock's email and offered him a job with Microsoft in tres romantique Paris. Et moi? I am going to habite a Paris avec Jock and will become a lady who dejeuners for the time being. I will most likely étude a CELTA course in teaching the French business fraternitéhow to speak propa English.
I do recall my folks sitting me down, âgé 14 ans, at the proper dining table (not the kitchen table, thus meaning BUSINESS) to inform me that I would regret not continuing mes études de Français. I have to say, that a la mode, I did not see the point (please pronounce this pwau in the context of une petite vignette) in continuing a language belonging to a country on the other side of the planet. Ah, mais non! my parents cried....There are so many other countries in the world that speak French, said Maman....You will need French to do the Times crossword and understand high brow political cartoons, explained Papa. Comme çi comme ça said I, with a resolute shrug of the shoulders and the facial expression of enfants terribles.
So now, 20 years later, Je ne regrette rien.... Non! Rien de rien... For I 'ave it on very gid authorité that I wid 'ave fergot-ten maste of it in eny cass. You can now catch me répétition vocabulaire de français from the iPod whilst trotting around Glasgow, much to the amusement of passers by.
So, in preparation for the road ahead, I am learning Français from these two gentlemen
Also, please enjoy le snippet de 'Allo 'Allo - no doubt how I shall parlez Français in Paris...
René: I would like to turn myself in
Officer Crabtree: Do you wash to confuss to a cream?
René: What? Oh, oh yes. Cream galore!
Crabtree: Do you wash to confuss to mordor?
René: No.
Crabtree: Minslatter?
René: No.
Crabtree: Biglary?
René: No.
Crabtree: Biglary woth minaces?
René: No.
Crabtree: Roop?
René: No.
Crabtree: Arson?
René: What is arson?
Crabtree: Setting fire to places.
Officer Crabtree: Good Moaning, I have come to arost your mither
Yvette: Arrest her mother, why?
Crabtree: She has been pissing fudged bank notes in the hot shop.
Edith: What does Crabtree say Vyette?
Yvette: I think he said "she has been passing forged bank notes in the hat shop.
Crabtree: Presoasly
René (Dressed like Fanny, doing a poor impression of her): Edith, remind him that he is supposed to be on our side.
Crabtree: Who is the ugly old bog in the bid with your mither?
Fanny: I have been asking the same question.
René (takes off his wig): It is I, Rene.
Crabtree: My Gid that was a god disgeese, I was complotely decieved by the wog.
René: Edith, give him 500 francs from the till and tell him to pass off.
That's right folks, the blog will be resuming its regularly scheduled program shortly, due mostly to popular demand. I have received so many emails from friends and family missing the Inivisible Inkblot's vignettes which do so much to enhancing one's experiences of procrastination.
I am having to rethink the blog - not because I've run out of things to say - far from it - but my new job as the official Red Cross schmoozer of parliamentarians means I have to be a bit more considered about issues I write about, particularly my whimsical and oft hip-shot political opines.
Speaking of which - isn't China going to be v. interesting over the next few weeks? How organised are the Tibetans? Or the people who have lost their homes in favour of grand olympic stadiums? The world is watching....I can't wait!
So, in the meantime, while I rethink this inky blot in cyberspace, please enjoy these three pics taken at the Glastonbury festival with my lomo. I have decided they are a triptych in the manner offete galanteand am thinking of entering them in the Glasto pic competition. It's called L'embarquement pour Glastonbury (if you click on the pic it will enlarge and you can look at it properly...) and was taken at sunrise on Sunday morning at the stone cirlce sacred space at Worthy Farm.
Congratulations to Jude and Trev on the birth of Matthew James Thomas on May 31. Welcome to this wonderful world Matty! To celebrate, here's a fabulous sequel to Where the Hell is Matt? You can see the first video by clicking on the Travel Bug link on the left of the blog under Videos of the week.
What a deliciously simple idea by Matt that has taken YouTube by storm!!
It's festival time in Europe and that can only mean one thing: standing in a long line next to half cut chicks waiting for your turn at the stinky port-a-loo. Frankly, going to the dunny in a port-a-loo at music festivals is only marginally better than listening to Mika, but I guess when both acts are finished, there is a major sense of relief. Which is why I have invested in a She-Wee, my very own detachable penis. That's right - nothing is sacred in the noughties - chicks are now weeing standing up.
You will now find female urinals at festivals and once you've put in a few pennies to Water Aid, you join your fellow wymmin to have a crack at not showing it. No more sticking yer arse to the wind and hoping that your shoes won't get wet - you just wave the magic peni towards the sink and once you've got over doing the opposite of which nature intended, you can trot past the long line at the port-a-loo with your She-Wee tucked magically away in your back pocket.
Not content with a penis in your pocket, the discerning festival going chick will also have designer wellington boots on her feet. Being summer means lots and lots and lots of torrential rain, so it's the fashion to have fancy boots. I choose to wear Chooka boots imported from the USA for those of us with narrow feet. Oh it's a cruel god that gives you narrow feet and fat thighs..... Rock Ness next weekend and Glastonbury in three weeks time. A mix of old timers like Neil Diamond and Leonard Cohen (was pleased to see he was still alive actually) and some new bands like the Ting Tings and Cut Copy.
Yes, that's right, if you buy the Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife you will be able try the 10mm hexagonal key for nuts - a most handy device for when you want to tighten your bike spokes. You can then take your newly tightened bike for a wee ride in the bush, where you may require the useful double-cut wood saw with ruler in inches and centimetres to cut away those nasty fallen branches covering the bike paths. Once you've finished sawing, you'll need to replenish your tired body with a bevvy and a cuban cigar - just as well the Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife comes complete with bottle opener and cupped cigar cutter with double-honed edges! It's time to throw away your old Victoria Knox with it's pissy knife, bottle opener and scissors and invest in a Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife.
Ever wanted to keep a laser pointer in your pocket as well as a shortix laboratory key, telescopic pointer, fish scaler, hook disgorger, laser pointer with 300 ft range and a golf shoe spike wrench? Well now you can with the amazing Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife!
For those romantic forest hikes, you can impress your lady friend by making her a gem stone ring enroute! It's easy with the Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife. With your handy mineral crystal magnifier with precision screw driver, micro scraper - straight, micro scraper - curved and the recently patented spring-loaded, locking flat nose-nose pliers with wire cutter, you can eradicate your feelings of commitment phobia and ask her to marry you with your hand made quartz ring! She won't want anyone else!
And you don't want any other pocket knife. You can have all this for the amazing price of £499.95! That's like less than £7 million!!! What a bargain!
And if you buy this now, you can get the incredible wet dry Wenger Giant Swiss Army Knife carry case by clicking here!
Sometimes I'm grumpy when I wake up. This is a left over symptom from post-nineties western angst. I am in full remission now and am perfectly relaxed and comfortable with who I am, where I come from and where I am going to binge eat on a chocolate muffin.
Oui, il est excitement! Bill Gates somehow got Jock's email and offered him a job with Microsoft in tres romantique Paris. Et moi? I am going to habite a Paris avec Jock and will become a lady who dejeuners for the time being. I will most likely étude a CELTA course in teaching the French business fraternité how to speak propa English.
That's right folks, the blog will be resuming its regularly scheduled program shortly, due mostly to popular demand. I have received so many emails from friends and family missing the Inivisible Inkblot's vignettes which do so much to enhancing one's experiences of procrastination.
Congratulations to Jude and Trev on the birth of Matthew James Thomas on May 31. Welcome to this wonderful world Matty! To celebrate, here's a fabulous sequel to Where the Hell is Matt? You can see the first video by clicking on the Travel Bug link on the left of the blog under Videos of the week.
It's festival time in Europe and that can only mean one thing: standing in a long line next to half cut chicks waiting for your turn at the stinky port-a-loo. Frankly, going to the dunny in a port-a-loo at music festivals is only marginally better than listening to Mika, but I guess when both acts are finished, there is a major sense of relief. Which is why I have invested in a She-Wee, my very own detachable penis. That's right - nothing is sacred in the noughties - chicks are now weeing standing up.
Not content with a penis in your pocket, the discerning festival going chick will also have designer wellington boots on her feet. Being summer means lots and lots and lots of torrential rain, so it's the fashion to have fancy boots. I choose to wear Chooka boots imported from the USA for those of us with narrow feet. Oh it's a cruel god that gives you narrow feet and fat thighs.....
