Banks

I'm not good with money. I love to spend it, and have had rather ... expensive habits over the years; so consequently my relationship with banks hasn't been exactly peachy.

You bounce a cheque and you get charged. You're bad and you get spanked. These things you learn as you grow up. However....

In 2006 some wise sage found out that it was actually illegal for banks to charge the extortionate fees they do when you are a 'bad' banker. I watched the documentary with sceptical interest, and thought 'no fucking way will he get his money back', then wandered off and sang a song, or some such. He did! And now so are lots of other people, including me!

Over the years the bank charges I've accrued (good word that) are not negligible, and it seems like I'll get them all back. They've already offered to settle for 50%

Consider me tickled pink.

FUCK!!!

Ahem.

Sorry, just had to get it off my chest.

Life is what you make it

A truism, and a line from a lyric. Nice song, if I ever get to record it. If I ever get to do anything I want to do.

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Don't read further if you value your sanity. This is self serving drivel.
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I don't like the 'human condition'. Especially my 'human condition'. Compared to the vast majority on the planet I have nothing to be upset about. I'm not starving, I don't live in a desert with no water, I'm not being ethnically cleansed. I have a house - ergo I have money, but I don't. No sense to that statement, but that's the way it is, and the way I'm feeling.

I've always lived from hand to mouth, 'cause I didn't want to get into the debt trap, but here I am balancing on a knife edge. If I don't get rid of this ... pile before the end of July I'm stuffed, and if I do I'm well off, in that I'll have money - but I'll have nowhere to live. How fucking stupid is that?

In theory all is peachy. Sell the house, be rich for a short time (remembering not to go totally stupid with the money - even though recording an album in the Bahamas would be nice, and a holiday in the US, and, and) and then what?

Then I don't know. The plan is France, but where? No idea. Getting on the boat and then driving until one finds somewhere nice is actually daftness personified. But probably just what we'll do. With six cats.

Oh, God help me! Oops, I'm an atheist. Or is that agnostic. Dunno. God?

*runs away screaming, looking for nice padded cell*

Time de......lay

I've just got off MSN with a friend in the west coast of the United states, and it's nearly three am and I want to go to bed. The cat wants me too as well - though there's nothing fishy afoot she's angrily meowling.

Anyhow. this is a winge about the eight hours I'm missing

The flat roof debacle

I love him. I do. I always have, though it took me a good many - too many - years to realise it, during which time I upset a lot of people. But can I work with him?

He's so bloody annoying. I'm told by those who listen, that we bicker perpetually. I don't see it that way. It's just the way we are - and it's causing me gyp.

So. I have a list of jobs that have to be finished before anyone can view the house. It's a long list. A looooong list.

Today, as it was sunny I decided to fix the flat roof. What do I know about roofing? Nothing at all, except, how hard can it be? The answer is very. Very damn hard, especially when you don't have the right type of roofing felt, and an idiot you love to help you.

I could have auditioned for the Minstrels by the time we'd finished, and I say finished half heartedly as I think, *sob wail gnash* I'm going to have to do it again.

And the list goes on....

Tune in for more exciting adventures of 'The Fool and the Blithering Idiot'

Speaking of which - France!

I'm off. Finally, and it's taken a long looooong time, I've put the pile on the market. Yep. On the market this afternoon.

I've no idea where we're going to, except it's not likely to be Blighty. Too effing expensive. So France is - as I type - the planned destination. Don't ask, 'cause I've no idea where in France. Probably an old Cow shed.

Actually, I quite fancy New Zealand. It's good enough for Frodo, though rather distant from my druggy friends in London ... I could grow my own, I suppose.

Ah well, you live and learn. I've learnt you have to earn money to pay bills, otherwise nondescript suits get upset. I've decided I don't like playing 'the game' where you slave to pay for a place you don't really want to be. What's the point?

I will write both music and 'fiction', and I will do it where I can get up at four in the morning and record a drum kit without having upset neighbours hammering on the door.

I will, I will, I will Mr Fawlty.

Pondering the powerless Sunday

Sitting in the dark, a small tea light flickering, with a wind up torch to read by made me think. What would I do, how would I cope without electricity?

If society eventually does fracture and break down how will we cope mentally? In the 1970's, when the idea of the army taking over the country was last mooted, there was TV - but no computers, and no games consoles, and not many electrical appliances.

Now we are totally reliant on the 'lecky' for everything from cooking to work, and seemingly even more important, entertainment. Humanity spends an inordinate amount of time watching tubes of various kinds. Kids don't go outside to play anymore, they either watch the TV or play games on computers.

It was tough (yeah right), and it was only off for a short time.

Makes one think...