Remember these?

chopper.jpg

I still want one 30 years down the line. At the time a Grifter or a Tomahawk would have done, but that’s faded away…

My parents very selfishly didn’t spend their meagre wages on pointless frivolities like stupidly stylish impractical modes of transport for their children. Oh no, they were too busy buying food, paying bills and putting a roof over our heads. I would gladly have slept in a large cardboard box eating small cardboard boxes if I could have had a Raleigh Chopper…

Note the sleek lines, the custom bars and gonad removing gear changer. Fantastic.

I didn’t surf today. BIG BLOGGER – PENFOLD – VOTE NOW – GO ON – JUST DO IT…

If there is a God…..

god and cauliflower

Then why did he put pickled cauliflower on this world?

I put some in my mouth yesterday and it is wrong.

I didn’t surf today.

Natural selection…

mariokart.jpg

I’ve been playing Super Mario Kart for over 20 years and (unless Tiggz is playing) am unbeatable.

Until now.

Dylan, not only beat me, but beat the computer and opened a secret level.

My work here is done…

I didn’t surf today

Nice chestnuts…

chestnut.jpg

I don’t miss much about England – quite fond of Heinz baked beans and the occassional can of Strongbow cider. Melton Mowbray pork pies – they’re quite good. But in general – nada.

Apart from the trees. You have such good trees in the UK. Great big, leafy, woody trees bursting out of the ground – thrusting up into the sky.

Oaks and horse chestnuts. Ashes, elders and yews. Fanbleedintastic.

Don’t get me wrong – they have trees in Portugal – but for the most part the hills have been scraped bare and replanted with pine and eucalyptus leaving just a few areas of natural cork oak and castanha. I love proper trees and I miss them. So next time you’re out for a stroll in the woods or a park, somewhere in sunny Inglaterra, just walk up to a tree, introduce yourself and give it a big hug from me, go on I dare you…

I didn’t surf today.

Skin and ink…

Someone suggested to me a few days ago that I may not be ‘normal’ – I asked several people at work today if they thought this was true and they all expressed the view that I am very normal indeed. So if I take into account the character and mental stability of those judging me then I must be a complete freak and should tie myself up immediately with some sturdy cord (shortly after calling the authorities – making phone calls with no hands can be tricky) then roll myself carefully outside and wait patiently to be taken into protective incarceration. Anyway…

tattoo

I’ve been doodling again – this time some exterior decorating. A new design photoshopped onto my back – just to make sure I like it before I take the plunge and get it inked in for real. The idea was to incorporate some different tribal designs and meld them all together.

It stemmed from a ‘discussion’ with the guy who did the Maori design on my right shoulder who believed that all tattoos should be pure designs from one culture and be separate on the body. I told him that I figured this was bollocks (in the nicest possible way of course) as neither of us were anything other than Anglo-Saxon white boys from the South East of sunny Inglaterra and about as non-tribal as you could get so any ‘tribal’ tattoo – although you could take into consideration their original meanings and spiritual significance – were basically just skin art and could be mixed together. We agreed to disagree and he did a beautiful ‘pure’ design all down my arm.

So I found an artist working with slightly less artistic limitations who has already adorned my chest very nicely (thankyou to the lovely Rebecca from Madam Butterfly’s) who I’m hoping will put some more ink in my skin later this year…

I didn’t surf today. I am really quite normal though. Oh yes…

Dear Mum…

Dear Mum,
– today I did something really bad.
I couldn’t find my work boots so I used your wellies to do some concreting.
To save you the time and energy I am just about to go and lock myself in my room. I’ve also taken the liberty of borrowing one of your slippers to spank myself with when I haven’t apologised appropriately by teatime.
Penfold.

What I need…

    A shower.
    Some vegetation time – preferably horizontal – maybe involving a sofa and a crap film.
    Dinner – thai green curry would be nice…
    A drink – obviously a pint of Strongbow – straight from the fridge.
    A massage – my back and shoulders wrenched mercilessly by someone large, muscular and unattractive, possibly from the Soviet Union – until I am soft and pliable.
    Another massage – my back, front and sides gently rubbed with essential oils preferably by someone exceedingly attractive with an intimate knowledge of the human body – until I am the exact opposite of the previous.
    A jolly good seeing to – from someone with similar qualifications to previous until I have returned to the afore-mentioned state of ‘softness and pliability’.

These requirements are placed in order from likely through extremely unlikely all the way to ‘a whelks chance in a supernova’…

I think I’ll sort out the first three then go back to the second and dream of the rest…

I didn’t surf today. Did I mention the 15ft waves that are hitiing the west coast at the weekend? Cripes…