From Grannymar

Q ~ Questions

Q – Quiet or noisy? Quiet, for preference. Although not silent.
U – Unction. Bless you, that sounds like a nasty cough.
E – Early or late? Early, although it would appear that I’ve only mastered the second half of “early to bed, early to rise”
S – Shower or bath? Shower for being clean, bath for resolving aches and pains.
T – Type of dog? Any, although a certain staffie cross has a special place in my heart.
I – It lights up. When things go wrong.
O – Occurred in 1968? There was a big party to celebrate 13 years remaining until my birth.
N – Name a super power you’d like. Teleportation, just to cut down on the commute.
S – Snack/s you like? All. All of it.

The Onion’s take on recent sillyness with regards to YouTube videos of dubious worth

Despite my best intentions, I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for Paul O’Grady. He’s daft, and irreverent, often sycophantic and occasionally nauseating. But the person he rips the piss out of most is himself, and he does it very effectively.

His current show is apparently calculated to make it impossible for me not to watch, for it is set in Battersea Dogs Home.

I loved visiting Battersea, back when we got Roxy. And I think TLW
would love to go back, as would I. Except that we’re scared that we wouldn’t make it out without getting at least one more dog.

And while Roxy seemed engrossed in watching doggies from there, I don’t know how well she’d respond to a playmate arriving from there out of the blue….

I’ve always hoped that the Olympics would be a success, but didn’t actually expect them to be when the bid was successful. Seems that I was wrong; they’ve been pretty decent all round. Of course, one of the reasons I was against them was cost, and that reason still holds as a vote against them, but the travel chaos and all that didn’t happen. Well done Seb Coe for being just the right dictator to get things done.

So, what did we do during the festivities? Well, we went to see the torch relay, because it was pretty much on the way to the station and only caused a short delay in getting to work.

We put in applications months ago to go see things at the Olympics, and failed in most of our attempts. Although we did manage to see some horses doing sensible stuff – jumping makes sense, while getting a horse to dance clearly does not.

And then we went up into town to watch a bit of the men’s marathon. It was quite entertaining, and because they do it on a looped course rather than all strung out you got to see more of how it developed. Which was interesting.

And that was it; our Olympic experience. Not too much, really.

Our Paralympic Experience has been a bit more interesting, though.

In short: dozens of medals, lots of them GB but a nice silver for Ireland as well. Lots of very interesting moments, like Mr Pistoris getting hammered in the 100m. Some great stories, like the sprinter who collapsed at 50m and then insisted in struggling over the line about a minute after everyone else just to collapse the other side of it again. The javelin thrower who ended up being in the wrong category because of a paperwork issue, and instead of giving up he just decided to compete in said category anyway – rather difficult considering he’d been in a wheelchair all his life and the competition rules require he do it standing up.

All in all, a rather nice way to spend some time, we thought…

Two years ago, almost to the minute, a poor woman formerly known as TLG
and TLF was saddled with the new title of TLW.

I’ve rather enjoyed these two years, and I hope she has too. May there be many more of them to come.

The London Olympics, presented in analogous form as a night on the tiles.

This night on the tiles could be one that you dread; there are going to be a lot of people you don’t know there, and quite a few people that you don’t like. But there are some you do like, and the blond haired buffoon who seems to be doing the organising is generally good for a laugh, plus it would be very rude indeed to just avoid going. So you resolve to go along with it and give it a go, reserving your usual excuses if you need to leave early due to chronic boredom.

The first thing you do is head to a surprisingly nice pub, with some entertainment on; this pub could be called Opening Ceremony. This is a very enjoyable experience, with much to watch and discuss, even if some of it is just bonkers.

Then there’s the taxi to the next establishment, and while nothing too fun, at least all the travel just works, despite the usual concerns about moving around on a busy night.

The next drinking spot is again a lot of fun; it’s called Home Nation Doing Well, and everyone seems to enjoy themselves in a nice harmless fashion. Bit too much crying for my tastes, but that’s OK.

Another hour, another place to stop, this time Going to Events yourself, in my case this had a horsey theme and a general feeling of being both sunny and bloody wet, but still a laugh.

Next up: Ireland’s Record – best ever performance. Much drink was had.

And then some fucker insists that we all have tequila. Nobody really wants it, nobody ever enjoys it, and everybody feels better for it. However, it’s still forced upon us, this bottle of cheap Closing Ceremony. And it leaves a bad taste in the mouth, after an otherwise decent time.

I hope that the Olympics work out well; I hope that all the bad things that could happen, don’t. I hope that the lingering image we have of it is either brilliance from Danny Boyle or good ol’ fashioned oratory and French bashing from Boris.

However, when Cracked pick up on a lot of the nonsense surrounding the games, I gotta say, I’m not sure that there won’t be one or two things for us to look back on and go what the fuck were they thinking?

Happy Olympic Travel Mayhem, folks!