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!!!!

YOUR BORN, YOU LIVE YOUR LIFE THEN YOU DIE AND IF YOUR LUCKY SOMEBODY MIGHT NOTICE.

If you were lucky enough to have been stranded on a frozen moon a billion light years beyond our galaxy, you will have been spared ,for a billion years or so ,just about enough time to avoid the light speed news signals beaming across the cosmos to inform you of the death of, 'the king of pop'..Michael,Whacko Jacko, Jackson himself. The stories about prescription drugs; A skeletal body covered in needle holes, like a tea-bag covered in little perforations, but not as much mass ; Stomachs bunged full of tablets; And his kids who aren't his. And they're not even their mothers???/Now thats a headscratcher for a simple country lad like meself. The Lovely Lynne told me the other day that apparently he was totally bald. Jeez! Could you imagine what he'd of looked like without that ridiculous head of hair to cover that mess of distortions that passed for an Airfix kit of an early Star Trek aliens face ,that was the' Whacko's kipper'. Jacko's face and he's bald ,god thats a sight that i'd say would ruin your day.

There's that saying about people remembering where they were when certain people 'popped their clogs'. People like J.F.K.;Elvis; John Lennon; My dad(well i do!)....Now, of course The Whackmeister, himself. And just in case the memory does let you down in years to come. We, of course have the weeks of totally insane revelations that are, and yet too come out.All that would make it almost impossible to forget one of lifes genuine nutjobs. Somebody who put such a lot of effort and mind boggling amounts of money into his insanity deserves to be rememebered. How crazy he was, who knows, crazy he may've been, but he wasn't daft.

I was talking with that hairy ace caricaturist to the stars Guy Carter. He said 'That when he went, he'd like to go quietly and with dignity!'...I disagreed totally. When i go i want the world to shudder and shake,Volcanoes to erupt ; Earthquakes, Floods n' tsunamis; People howling and wailing in the streets all over the planet; Television specials going on for weeks, no make that months; Plaques and statues put up everywhere i ever went; Billions of websites devoted to my memory.......But that probably wont happen. My beloved Lovely Lynne will miss me cos she loves me madly and i do the dishes ( with a little help from a stained pinny) and hoover up. The little'un'll be pissed off at me cos she'll have to walk the dogs.