Tuesday, 21 June 2011

June 21st - Poignant double-anniversary day

Today is six years since my mother's funeral - she had died 10 days prior, aged 89.
It's also exactly 32 years since the day my father died, at 69 years.

I loved them both dearly, but must confess that it was only in their respective latter years that I really appreciated them. Although it's natural to have some regrets about things unsaid or undone I'm grateful that in my case there aren't any really major regrets in that respect. Also grateful that there were no great hostilities between them and other members of my large-ish family, which is indeed something to be thankful for, especially when I read the family circumstances of some other bloggers.

Always loving you, Mum & Dad.

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

My Social Life - All 100% of it on blogs.

Blog-reading is making an ever-increasing demand on my day. I'm not complaining - well, maybe I am, really. I find other people's blogs so fascinating and interesting. They all live in a totally different world from mine. Though I don't add a comment on every one of them every day, of course (who does?), I often wish there was the time to do more. And that's only with the score or so bloggers whom I follow. Those bloggers who follow several times more than the number that I do cannot possibly read all of them. It's just beyond human capability.
  Feel rather guilty that there are a number of fellow-bloggers who follow me but whom I haven't yet put on my own blog-roll. Really intend to go through them before too long though I know it will only increase the already significant amount of time spent reading here. But it should also be enriching.

Although keen to avidly follow the exploits of my blogger-pals I think they are all, without exception, gay. Not that there's anything 'wrong' with that, but it would be nice to have the occasional hetero pal. But how does one go about 'acquiring' one?

  My entire life of 'socialising' is conducted through blogs. I've said before that I have no friends 'in person', a friend whom I could easily visit - a situation I've been in for years, yet which I know is within my power to get out of, but.......
   Think I suffer from a condition only identified fairly recently - a fear of social interaction, which would explain why I've never had a true 'relationship' and even when I have had friends in the past, was never comfortable about them getting too close to me, both literally physically, as well as knowing too much about me. In fact all the most memorable physical 'experiences' of my life have been fleeting ones with strangers - casual encounters in public 'places', dark rooms, saunas, one-night stands in hotels etc. Sad in a way, but nevertheless true. How I've never caught anything serious, or even fatal, during all those wild years (now largely over) would be considered a miracle if I believed in such things.

    On blogs one can be as frank as one likes, with the added positive feature (for me) that distance makes personal tactile contact impossible. One can also make one out to be a nicer person than one actually is, which is very useful indeed.

  So, when I win our National Lottery and start my round of personal visits worldwide to those bloggers whom I especially value, I give notice that I'd prefer not to stay at anyone's house or apartment, but will be asking for recommendations of a hotel in the vicinity so that I can stay there and see you now and again, but retire back to seclusion before any mutual irritations start to surface. - and btw, don't forget that I'm veggie.

Saturday, 4 June 2011

(Part of) my failed first attempt at '5 on the 5th'.

These are three of the five pics I had ready to post on Stephen's (State of the Nation') 5/5th feature but couldn't work out how to get there. Even posting them as a normal blog is so laborious and I've got to do it in reverse order of its appearance. As for linking this with Stephen's site, I don't know how. Cubby of 'Patently Queer' suggests that the 'Blogger' software is not up to the task, at least not with ease. So for the moment I'll put the intention of joining this 'family' on the back burner. Anyway, here they are.



Above: My NEW shirt from 'Next' - a snip at £15!




Above: 'Waterless Garden' (i.e. 'Rainfall-only) on Worthing sea-front.





Above: My technicolour meal. Mushroom omelette ('mush-let') using 3 eggs, + pots (boiled), cauli, beans, toms. Mmmmmm mmmmmm!


Well, after that time-costly effort I'll ruminate on how I can progress on this matter. Meanwhile let's see what others are offering this month.

Monday, 30 May 2011

American (and Canadian) regional accents

This subject has got me gripped. Thanks to 'Anne Marie of Philly' for provoking it by mentioning accents after my comment on Cubby's posting of his 'Rings around Uranus' on his PatentlyQueer blog - and Cubby's own further information about distinct regional American variations.
It's a subject that is just never discussed in the U.K. because to us Brits, with very few exceptions (I mentioned the deep south, as well as there being the clear Texan accent), most Americans all seem to talk the same way. (Do I hear the sound of collective jaws dropping?). Offhand I still couldn't point to the difference between the Pacific and Atlantic coasts, though I bet someone's going to tell me that not only are there crucial ones but there are also discernible variations in how far north or south on that particular coast one goes. Are there, for instance, distinctive Florida or Washington State accents?
More than once, on my holidays in Europe, having met a guy whom I assumed to be an American, have I been gently corrected by being told that I was speaking to a Canadian. Although I was embarrassed I bet most Brits would have made the assumption that I did. I wonder if the accents of people from, say, Vancouver and Newfoundland are as far apart as their geographical locations are?
I once met an absolutely stunningly beautiful bearded leather guy in a hotel in Cologne (before I moved to that city myself) who could speak only French. My not unreasonable assumption on commencing a somewhat limping conversation with him was that he'd just hopped on a train in his home country, probably from Paris, and arrived for a weekend of fun - as I had. It turned out that he was actually from Montreal - which thereby gave me a chance to practice my tongue on him; but that's another story. However, I dare say that any Frenchman would have known within a second or two that he wasn't a native of France.

I see that there are audio illustrations on the Internet of the various regional American accents, which I am now going to explore and, hopefully, make me much more knowledgeable on this subject.
Oooooh, this is so exciting!!!

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

An open letter to GOD.


Dear Almighty Being,
I hope that Thou willst look kindly on this little missive written by myself, an humble homo.
In recent days we've been hearing much of Thy purported intention to bring an imminent end to life on earth. I must say at the outset that since this planet has existed for some 4.500,000,000 years (minimum) - though according to 'The Holy Book', some interpret this figure to be erroneous, and that the actual age of the earth is less than 10,000 years, with human beings and prehistoric creatures existing simultaneously, (Alas, I'm not knowledgeable enough to argue with any expertise on the subject, but I do know which possibility is the more likely!) - I do feel privileged to be alive (for the moment) at this particularly auspicious time.
Now we've heard from Thy disciple, Mr Camping, who freely admits that he erred in his forecast date, but that the 'end' will now definitely occur on October 21st this year. I must express my gratitude that Thou hast kindly spared us the previously-promised five months of agony and terrorised anguish leading up to this apocalyptic date. Oh, the frailty of our human condition in making mistakes! Unlike Thee, Almighty Sir, Thou hast bequeathed fallibility to all of us - that is to all except for our Holy Father, Thy universally-revered, Pope Benedict, appointed by Thyself through Thy Divine inspiration to our noble, gracious and eminent body of Cardinals. Although Thy Supreme Pontiff is infallible only when he deigns to speak to us ex cathedra, I accept that with that singular august exception we are continuously at the mercy of human error.
Now I appreciate that I have never displayed adequate contrition for my grievously sinful past. Indeed, I have at times absolutely revelled in my indulgence of a certain 'unnatural' activity which comes so easily to me. I know that, along with eating shellfish, wearing garments of differing weaves or materials, children being disobedient to their parents (and many other such heinous crimes committed against Thine eternally-wise strictures), all of which deserve the just and ultimate penalty of death, I have frequently participated in 'abominations of the flesh'. Indeed so many times have I performed such acts that I cannot recall more than a fraction of them. And it gets even worse. Even if 'love' or 'affection' could ever be used as a mitigation of such activities (which, of course, they can NOT, in any circumstances) it wouldn't apply in so many instances of my life where the entire motivation was to experience pleasure. And it gets yet still worse. I have committed these acts of abomination even with strangers - men (yes, all MEN) whose names I didn't even know either before or after this utterly disgraceful conduct. I'm assuming that I am correct in thinking that whenever Thou decideth to pull the curtain down, I shall be destined to reside in Hell-fire for EVERMORE, because of my sinful ways.
But it would behove me ill to implore Thy forgiveness. The simple truth is that I am NOT sorry. Thou hast created me as a mirror of Thine own unparalleled, ineffable goodness, and I am merely following the dictates of my nature - yes, nature - in doing what I feel I want to within this pathetic mortal shell of flesh and bone. My rule of thumb has always been - "As long as it's not hurting anyone else who is not party to the particular actions one makes or decisions one takes then there's nothing wrong with it".

Just one final point, if I may, please. If Thou really art going to ring the death knell of this wonderful planet which Thou, in Thine infinite wisdom, didst create, willst Thou please quit piss-farting around and just fucking DO IT!
Yours faithfully,
Your humble, arse-licking (mmmm!), homo servant,
Ray.

P.S. Any chance of sending a hairy (male) hunk in my direction? Ideally aged 30-50 and preferably 'uncut' - though I won't quibble too much about the latter.