TOMMY WAS A DEAF DUMB 'N' BLIND BOY WHO COULD PLAY A MEAN PIN-BALL,BUT AT 6.30.A.M, TIMMY'S DEAF, DUMB 'N' BLIND AND CAN PLAY F***K ALL !!

My darlin' dearest 'Little 'un started 'Big Skool' this week. She's loving it. The missus, the Lovely Lynne is upset as she's "lost her 'little girl', and i'm F***ked as i've got to get out of my bed an hour or so earlier. Getting out of bed has never been something i've been good at, but as i grow older and need my 15 hours more and more, i seem to be getting less and less. When i awake on pure instinct,as at this point, concious thought doesn't enter into the equation at any level. I leap out of bed. My legs are unable to support the upper levels as they haven't woken yet, buckle, causing me to crash over a variety of bedside cabinets, then a few seconds later are the cause of me falling 'arse over tit' down the stairs. When i crawl into the kitchen, totally devoid of any sensory stimulation. Somehow, a primevil instinct allows me to put the kettle on and make a bucket of tea. The angel of the morning isn't quite dead yet, not far of it, but not quite.

My theory about the total inability of the bodies sensory or muscular system to 'kick in' when you get up ,until 3 buckets of tea have been consumed is all down to the brain in the skull cavity. When you lie in bed the brain like scots porridge oats slops to the back of the brain cavity, the furthest point from the sensory organs which are situated mainly at the front of the skull, so everythings dissconnected when you go to bed, rather like turning off the telly and things when you go to bed. It helps you to you sleep, i s'pose. When you leap out of bed the foreward momentum presses the brain even harder against the back of the skull and it takes the congealed porridge of your brain a few minutes and lots of tea to slop to the base of the brain cavity and reconnect to eyes and ears and tongue, etc. And only then does the world gradually come into focus. I can even put the telly on ,Sky News and cannot believe that at this ungodly hour there is a smart, groomed,smiling, chirpy, sincere, earnest politician being interviewed by Eamon Holmes, at least he always looks like he's just out of bed.

The other puzzling thing about getting out of bed is how much hair you seem to have. At no other time of the day are you that hairy!... You could go and have a No 1 crewcut, but when you get up at some ungodly hour, hair is sticking up all over the place. My theory is that as you lie there relaxed your 'barnet' is influenced by the Earths magnetic field. I've seen pictures on the Discovery channel showing the magnetic field and it looks like my head in the morning. Ah well i'll have plenty of early morning starts to reflect on these things over the next god knows how many years, the 'Little 'un's'at big skool.

IT IS NOW OFFICIALLY WINTER...THE XXX'IN X FACTOR AND STRICTLY COME DANCING ARE BACK ON THE TELLY !!!!!

Once upon a time summer went on forever. Long sunny days running around ,playing 12 hour games of footy with your friends or going on 40 mile bike rides to god knows where. Then autumn came as the nights started to draw in, although the evenings were still 'balmy' and pleasant. Then , eventually winter arrived with the clocks going foreward and we were back in school waiting for the run up to x-mas. Now its all different. Summer's no different to any other part of the year, except for the fact that it rains more than most of the rest of the year. The streets and green areas are totally bereft of kid playing. They're all in the back room watching the telly and playing computer games and only making any attempts at communication if they want something. But the main difference to 'everything' is the total disapearance of autumn. Winter replaces summer at approximatly 7.00 pm one Saturday night....'Bang !'....Its now Winter!.......The beginning of the dark depressing oppressive winter is the NEW SERIES OF THE X-FACTOR.

That collection of talentless deadbeats n' no-marks who for some reason consider themselves qualified to be a celebrity, as that is all they want to be, not an artiste, or anything just a celebrity. And it is their god given right to become a star. They are totally oblivious to the fact that they are shite and everyone thinks they're shite. Friends ,family, laughing qualified (?) panellists,( they're in the buisness y'see)...The jeering thousands in the audience; The scoffing millions watching on the telly and re-enjoying the humiliation on 'you-tube, etc. I would love to become famous on the X-Factor set by blowing the bastards on the panel and the chirpy comedian presenter to bits with a high powered rapid fire combat rifle. But ,for some reason i am alone in my hatred of the X-Factor. My family love it,they adore it, its great. We have the SKY+ system, so we can't miss any of it. And to make matters much much worse i also find myself forced to watch STRICTLY COME DANCING. Which i also dislike, although it has to be said ,not with the venom reerved for'X'....So as once saturdays used to be:The wrestling; Football results from every single person in the British Isles who trudged onto a mucky pitch and booted a soggy heavy leather footyball; Doctor Who, adventure series and films. Now its dancing and screeching. And lest we forget the stereotypical celebrity expert panellists which are spreading like a virus on the spawning pandemic of various types of talent shows. The cartoon storm clouds of gloom hover over my head on a Saturday night whilst the Lovely Lynne and the Little'un literally shine with pleasure and joy. And then they start showing it on a Sunday as well......I'm not a celebrity,but get me outta here!

ME WWW.TARZAN.OT.APES.COM....YOU..WWW.JANE.OT.SEXYBIKINI.COM...

In reply to a comment from the lovely Cathy Simpson about me being her lord of the jungle, the lovely lady doesnt realise how close she is to the truth. When i lived in India i spent a little time exploring jungles and forests. I gave a few good RON ELY ,TARZAN calls ,which in the telly series would've had the jungle stampeding. But some bird just fluttered away from me. It's not that easy being king of the jungle. And you never meet those cute little chimps like Tarzans friend CHEETAH. The apes were nasty dirty flea-infested shit covered pains ,best kept well away from. When we lived in Malaysia the compound we lived on was the stomping ground of an aged bad tempered baboon type ape and there was nothing nice about him. He went for a few people , including me .I belted him with a plastic chair and henceforth we just sneered at each other. A friend of ours was sitting on a settee in the living room, reading a paper when his missus came out of the bathroom. He thought she'd been sitting beside him, when she advised him to carefully look to the side, he carefully looked up to see this bloody baboon sitting on the settee picking at his snack, he, then not so carefully shifted very sharpish. The compound security people went to "stun him, sir!".....They certainly did that, stunning us as well, by blowing his bloody head off. So i wasn't a king of the apes either

One thing about being an EXPAT, is that wherever you go people are always giving you business cards, telling you to get in touch. Expats seem a lot more relaxed and funnily enough quite often mean it about getting in touch. I know Tarzan has a holder for his knife, but where does he keep his business cards? I mean you can't be king of the jungle and the apes and not have some cards printed, its bad bizniz!!!!