Wise Men Say Only Tools Rush In

It would seem that as I get older, I shall be getting wiser, which is great! Nothing, it appears, is required of me to acquire this wondrous ability as I am led to believe by various family, friends and assorted sages that as long as I stay alive, it is a rite of passage. Apparently I can sit back and await wisdom and the associated prestige that 'guru' status allows.

 I have little reason to doubt this will be the case and consequently I look forward to shortly being able to tie my own shoe laces and perhaps even understand why the bloke who lives down the road shouts at the pigeons for no apparent reason every morning. 

However all this newly acquired wisdom may not I fear be enough to answer some fundamental questions on everyday life that have been bothering the chirps out of me for some considerable time.

For instance;
Why do first things always have to come first? Bit selfish.

Secondly,why did I ask the above question first?

Also, if it rains 'cats and dogs' why have I never been struck over the head  by a medium sized domestic animal?

Plus why do all female violinists appear absolutely stunning while their male counterparts seem to be fifty something balding guys with dubious moustaches?

And why do I insist on writing this crap when the readership consists of me, my auntie Betty, her budgie 'Pete' and a selection of robots in Google town, USA?

Yes many mysterious things it seems are designed to irritate me and remain steadfastly unanswered.

Despite this I remain on the whole quite positive, as it seems even when the dark clouds of complete foolhardiness surround me there always appears a bright light, a shining beacon that lifts the gloom and allows an uplift in my spirits. For proof of this I'd like to share something with you;

A few years ago I was heard to say rather belligerently that there was more chance of me having a hot date with Kylie than Donald Trump ever becoming president of the U.S! So after the election and my initial reaction of 'WHY AMERICA? I was much more upbeat as I looked again at my initial statement and saw the odds of a good night out with pop royalty tumbling in my favour!

Fast forward and now we move into another election year across the pond and its looking like he could just do it again and become a square man in an oval office for a second time!

So C'mon, surely now is my moment?? I am convinced that something more than just my tummy burp residue is in the air! I am happily reading my copy of 'I should be so lucky', A dummies guide, and looking forward to Kylie's imminent friend request on facepull. A necessary first step I'm sure you will agree? after all, first things first, I don't want to rush in, you know what wise men say!........................

A very happy and peaceful election year to you all!

The Gamble Of Life

Now it cannot be denied that as a responsible member of society and all round good guy I have until now managed to avoid any major mishaps when encountering the various pitfalls that life has thrown up on a regular basis. I'll admit that much of this has been down to good old lady luck but I must also contend that there is also 'evidence' of excellent decision making and a healthy aversion to risk, leading me to coin the phrase "You wouldn't catch me doing that" on a regular basis.

However there is a group of people who never miss the opportunity to bleat on about how positive they are, how they are 'self made' and if they can do it, so can you, Why you should not be, 'sheltering from the storm', but you should learn to 'dance in the rain'.

 After vomiting the entire contents of your stomach at their feet you may be minded to remind them of the severe Health & Safety risk this attitude presents. After all when prancing about in a storm you run the very real risk of getting thoroughly drenched, not to mention colder than a penguins chuff which of course means almost certain death from bronchial pneumonia if you should reside anywhere in the northern hemisphere.

If all else fails to kill you there is always that old favourite of being struck by lightning. Now if you fancy a little flutter you may want to bear in mind that you are far more likely to suffer this unfortunate event than actually winning a lottery jackpot. In the UK 'being struck' equates to roughly a 3 million to one chance which means it is over 4 times more likely than winning the UK main lottery!

 In the U.S it stacks up even more with the chances of being struck at around 700,000 to one. Move to Florida and you should get your affairs in order as a matter of urgency as your 3 iron will almost certainly become a fully functioning lightning conductor before reaching the seventh tee! I tell you all this to provide some perspective to a tale from my earlier years when I suffered the trauma of having electricity use my body as a super highway to the ground.

At age 8  I was challenged by my older brother to see who could keep their wee directed onto the electric fence wire surrounding a fine piece of pasture which was making the herd of Guernsey cattle literally drool as they chomped away at it!

It will not surprise you that I duly won the challenge, thereby disproving my brothers assertion that I was a bit of a div. However the jolt of current that flowed up my juvenile jolly roger was sufficient to throw me back and upwards in a sort of Fosbury flop fully two years before the great Dick Fosbury premiered a similar manoeuvre and became a sporting legend at the Mexico Olympics. Landing with a hard jolt on my still forming vertebrae was bad enough, but this in itself would not have been a great problem were it not for the fact that I was now suffering a todger spasm of epic proportions and had nowhere near an empty bladder. This led me to the realisation that what goes up as a spurt, returns to earth as a rather more widespread shower. One thing that I am convinced of from this experience is that urine shampoo will never catch on, it stings the eyes way too much and frankly makes the hair smell and indeed look like a five year old toilet brush!
This would be considered a bad enough day in most peoples eyes but unfortunately for me I then chose an ill advised course of action which resulted in far worse ignominy. I ran off crying, intending to report this event to my mother which would inevitably bring down on my brother the severest of sanctions but running almost blindly from a combination of tears and salt from my own urine I stumbled on a rut made by one of the aforementioned residents of the field. I cannot quite remember now what I thought as I flew parallel to the ground for four feet before my face burrowed deep into a cow pat the size of a satellite dish.

 Perhaps I wondered idly, "What were the odds on that"  mmm probably not, I think it rhymed with "clucking bell".