PLUMPILICIOUS?

I once saw a TV programme about 'feeders'. It was not pleasant viewing I can assure you.

In case you don't know who these people are, they are men who love their women to be grotesquely obese and pour liquid fat into them to keep them that way. 

The women it seems,  are fine with existing in this relationship so everyone is happy except for the medical profession who inevitably have to pick up the pieces. 

I am told that obesity is on the increase. When I stroll round my local neighbourhood I can believe it. 

But I have one question. Why pray tell, are the massively obese people who I see wearing sports clothes? I mean, what sport do they play? 'Wobbly tennis'? 'Drain-the-pool belly flop'? 'The 100 metre waddle'?

Once the Olympics and Paralympics are finished we need to hold the Plumpalympics. 

Own up. Which of you asked if I'd be entering?

THE FULL ENGLISH (11)

Imagine you're riding a horse bareback with no reins to help when it suddenly bolts. You face injury or worse unless you can get the horse to stop quickly. 

I'm sure that being the clever person you are, you already know how to do this but in case the solution doesn't come to mind right away I'll give you a moment to ponder the problem of how to stop the runaway horse.

Nowadays we use the word 'wink' to mean a quick blink of one eye directed at someone but back in the middle ages, wink meant to firmly close the eyes. Bearing this in mind, 'hoodwink' meant to put a hood over the eyes like a blindfold. 

You would do this to someone who was about to have their head chopped off or less gruesomely you would put a small hood over a falcon's eyes to kid (hoodwink) him that it was night so he would calm down and stay put on your gloved hand.


I'm sure you also realised that the same trick will work on the runaway horse if you quickly slip your hands over his eyes.


You see, I wasn't trying to hoodwink you.

DOING OUR BIT

We recently made a trip to the garden centre. I swear they rub their hands with glee when they see us coming. It's very rare that we don't spend over £100 when we go there.

The main purpose of the visit was to get some nice colourful summer bedding plants to place round the garden in pots at strategic points to provide a splash of colour against the backdrop of weeds.

After my wallet had been thoroughly fricasseed and we had toiled and sweated to plant everything out we were able to enjoy gazing out of the window to see everything flourishing in the pouring rain that is this summer.

Unfortunately, we were unable to make the quantum leap of association between rain and new plants. We had created a veritable smorgasbord for the local slug and snail population who passed the message round and made as fast a trail as they could to our garden and then stripped the plants bare.

I ask you - what use is a slug? What was the creator thinking when He had the idea of making a slimy, obnoxious mollusc which spends its time eating young healthy plants? 

The answer can only be that it was to ensure that garden centres could profit and grow in abundance - for that is where we need to return. We're certainly doing our bit to get the economy back on track.

THE BOTTOM LINE

Mooning: To expose one's buttocks suddenly and publicly either as a prank or as a gesture of disrespect. 

But why is it called 'mooning'? Well some would say that it is because the buttocks are a bit sort of moon shaped. Others say it is because the buttocks are normally not seen - just as the moon is not normally seen in the day but emerges at night. So mooning is to expose what is normally not seen.

Bare with me. Sorry I mean bear with me.

 

Most of us know that the crescent moon is also known as 'hunter's' moon since it looks a bit like an archer's bow. A full moon is also known as a harvest moon since it occurs close to the Autumn equinox when the harvest takes place. You may not have known that an almost but not quite full moon is called 'gibbous'. 

I have always thought that 'builder's bum' was the (inadvertent) exposure of the top of the crack. You know what I mean - don't play dumb. The point of my scribbling is that I am horrified to report that during my trip into town today I encountered not one but two separate examples of bum exposure, both by females, and both clearly not inadvertent.

These two experiences have left an indelible imprint on my brain not only because the buttocks in question desperately needed to be kept covered up (believe me on this) but also because in both cases we are not talking of crescent moons but utterly gibbous moons only just short of the harvest version. 

I will stop there because I need to go and lie down in a dark room for a while.

DOING WHAT COMES RANDOMLY

A lot of my friends and family just don't 'get' Twitter. Indeed a lot of them just don't get me. But that's another story. 

'You're just chatting to a bunch of strangers' they say. Whilst that may be true I think it's fair to say that after chatting with this bunch of strangers for several years I have got to know them pretty well - and vice versa. 

As to why I chat to them I can only say that I believe that it is man's normal state to be sociable and gregarious so I'm just doing what comes naturally.

But now there's something new. It's now possible to use the technology of video chat such as Skype for instance, to video chat with total strangers. You just press the 'find me a random person somewhere on this planet to appear on my screen and start chatting with' button. 

Must be a pretty big button with all those words on it. It's also a pretty big step to take and one which is too far for my social stride to take on. So sorry but I'll be pressing the 'find me a person somewhere on this planet who I either know or am known to have a lot in common with' button instead.

 

PRETTY AMAZING

So, as I may have mentioned a few thousand times before, I've become a Grandpa. It was all because of a tiny bundle called Emily Elizabeth.

Her Mum is feeding and nurturing her of course and it has struck me that for a while, all babies are parasites. Starting in the womb, they draw their nourishment from their Mum's supplies and she poor thing has to eat more in order to keep herself and baby healthy. The process continues after the birth as baby still grazes from her Mum's buffet.

Emily's mother is a very beautiful woman but is very aware of a few extra spots on her face and some lumps and bumps to temporarily spoil her lovely figure. As we all know, after a while, she will regain her former beauty but here's my take on it.

Just as she is busy sharing her body's nourishment with Emily, so too for a short while, she is sharing her beauty as well and Emily is blossoming into a beauty in her own right. 

In time, mother and daughter will emerge as rose and rosebud and the world will be an even more beautiful place.

GRANDMA'S PARTY

We certainly know how to throw a party but sadly, now the party's over. 

I watched the pageant, the concert, the parades and the Queen majestically enjoying it all and like countless others I had a glow in my heart. A national pride which warms us and keeps us united.

I suppose my favourite part was the concert with amazing musicians and singers from the sixty decades during which our dear Lizzie has supported us. One young teenager being interviewed on TV said she is 'one cool Grandma'. 

What I wasn't prepared for was the overwhelming emotion I felt as the music played and I listened to the sound track of my life. 

I was just five when Elizabeth took over as Queen of our nation and as the sixty years of  music played, all those years came alive again - I always find that music has that effect on me and I'm sure that I'm not alone. 

So thanks Ma'am for being a huge part of my life, thanks for inviting me to the party and let's hope we can rock on for many more years to come.

MY GLASS IS HALF FULL

I've always felt that humanity is largely divided into two types apart from the obvious male and female - optimists and pessimists. 

For myself, I am an optimist. I was reminded of this just now as I heard a siren screaming as an emergency was being responded to by either an ambulance or the police or both.

It reminded me of a time when I was chatting to one of my favourite chefs whose restaurant is on a very busy street. Frequently that evening, ambulance sirens had been heard rushing up and down the street outside and my gastronomic friend looked troubled on each occasion. I asked him why it concerned him.

'I always think that it means that somewhere not far away, somebody is hurt badly' he said.

The optimist in me replied 'Perhaps, but it also means that help is on the way'. 

'I shall remember that each time I hear the sirens' he responded. 

Pleased to have cheered him, I continued to enjoy my delicious meal.