Updates from July, 2013 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • beulah888 7:05 AM on July 26, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Premiumship,   

    Monkeying Around The Site 

    Pardons.  Please.  I have been again monkeying around the site fiddling with colours..none not dark or dense enough unless I go Premium.

    WordPress is a premium bloggers site with more than enough blogging that surely it can organise a free upgrade for me. 

    O.K.   Give me a challenge to earn it.  Something like doing a blog  post from scratch in one of Hackney’s Libraries in under 2 mins.  Now that is a challenge.

    I might win…depends on the day though.  These Library PC’s are like dinasaurs and the keys define ‘sticky’ and I am being fossilised.

    Have a super day!

     
  • beulah888 4:09 AM on July 26, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , George Galloway, , Kate Moss, King George VI, King GeorgeV, Prince George   

    Baby Name Shambles: Prince George Is Public! 

    That ‘royal’ baby name is a shambles!  He isn’t Greek, Egyptian or French. He might be Quebecois, perhaps? No really.  He is just a george of the madness of King George sort.  Well isn’t he?

    They're all mad I tell you.

    They’re all mad I tell you.

    He is of Cambridge shire is George

    ( there is not a Windsor)

    and his auntie Pipster,

    was delivering him,

    almost,

    and there checking him out at home

    before the supposed real royalty.

    And they named their baby

    After a public Inn!

    Ooo a shambles!  How gross, how common, how undignified!!

    They were so quick to name him too!  Oh the immodesty, the utter shambles!  He is no Mountbatten and neither are his parents.  They have taken popular to mean common.  Well, o.k. as they probably equate populace with commoners.  I mean, showing your baby bump?  What’s next?  A Kate Moss shoot?  A note that they have the original placenta in the vaults of some crypt or museum. Ugh-gh-ha!

    And as a couple punters have pointed out GAL is not monarchical.  Reminds me of a certain George Galloway or Galworthy.

    He is a gorge, ah,  George!  poor thing (disregard the Bank of England) and will never be an Alexander or a Louis.  Bugger Bognor and Saxe-Coburg-Gothaand all that.

    Hackney has its own Prince George already, thank you very much!  Actually, Hackney has a few Princes George and otherwise, as well as a smattering of Queens (drag n all) Dukes and so on.  .  One is on Parkholme Way, well it was last time I checked but being aged and grumpy and penniless I haven’t sought out the old bugger in eons.

    ad

    Speaking of which, last I remember, the Prince had a small back room where you could pot balls.  And “Harry will make sure he has fun”.  Oh the fine times!

    Anyone for a game of pool?

     
  • beulah888 6:17 AM on July 24, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , kate middleton baby, prince, publicity,   

    Royal Baby Shambles 

    I am so depressed.  Down in the dumps.  What with a ton of baby, a big-headed boy from his balding and big-headed daddies newly out into the public arena. 

     That’s right.  His daddies.  Not one but two.  One dumber than the other.  One with a tad more hair than the other (not under the armpits though) but just as dumb.  One not truly a daddy as one was not truly his daddy and I am going back to bed to weep.

    Welcome to the world of dis-order and confusion that is a Baby shambles.  Before he can toddle.  They shamble.

    —————————————————————————–

    O.K.  It is I, of the hateful nature wanting Kate and her 2 ton son to…, ah, basically go away.  For ever.  And take his daddies and the rest of them with you.

    My life is so real that I cannot fathom yours and cannot even desire it.  To me, your life would be death.

    So I live on this Council Estate with no car and no baby and a bloody lot of  rejects, and crack-heads.  So I do not have enough money to purchase a new and unused blanket.  So I cannot  pretend even that I find you or your hubby even vaguely interesting, worthwhile or worth looking at.  So I am unable to not use even twice in one short sentence.  So what?!

    Go shut yourselves up in that Tower and never come out.  Hackney is bad enough without you lot being splattered all over everything………….  Ooh.  On second thoughts, you lot being splattered…….

    You lot being plastered all over the bleeding Hackney circuit is all I could want.

    Ain’t it. (?) Innit?  Ennet?

    And it is Cockney Heritage Week or some such as well.

    I am pissed to the max.

    Cockney King'sCockney King’s (Photo credit: kennymatic)

    Stay out of my vision, sight, hearing, in fact all of my senses.

    Stay out of the blithering newspaper.  I do not want to see your picture on the front back or any page of my cheap and free local rags.  Have you no morals, respect or even the pretense of dignity?  Sheesh!!

    Take your cannonball of a baby, stuff him in a cannon and shoot him off to Wales.  That is to where he belongs.  Get it?

    Now why not name him Charles Walford Wales the 5th?

    What a shambles.  Who ever heard of an 8lb+ Royal Baby?  G-d!  You ought to be ashamed.  Can’t hide it now!!

    Me?  I am off and running.  The juggernauts are coming.

     
  • beulah888 3:50 AM on July 19, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , summer   

    So I Am still Here, Love 

    Yes I am still here. Traipsing around Hackney, re-visiting a couple of ‘Drop-Ins’ that I got familiar with when I was homeless a few years ago. Now that the new Council Tax legislation has reduced me I thought I’d use, or had to use, these soup kitchen open door places. Much improvement since my day a homeless louche.  O.K.  So I wasn’t a louche as I was never shady,dubious, or disreputable, but I was homeless. And that by societal definition makes you a louche.

    I am still here in Hackney wondering why.

    Not why was I homeless all those years ago for so many years at different times.   That is a long convoluted story full of innuendo, conspiracy theories and facts.  As they all are I suppose.

    No, I am wondering:  “Why am I still in Hackney?”   I mean, can’t I go elsewhere?  Move house?  Oh, I don’t own one.

    O.K.   Visit friends and relatives for this great hot Summer?  Friends?  Ah, I owe them money.   Oops.    Relatives?   All in other countries, and I have no money.

    The circle is completed.

    Money it is.   Love makes the world go around, and so it should, but money makes us enjoy the world a bit more. Money is not the root of all evil.  The love of money is though.

    I would love to have some money to pay off bills and enjoy a few paid gigs.  I would love to have some money to give to certain people and to repay a few others.  I would love to have some money so that I could go on holiday.

    What holiday?  I do not have a job.   I am permanently on holiday actively seeking gainful (read paid) employment.

    Would I enjoy the world a bit more if I had money?  Oh yes!  I would be able to spend days if not months away from the hole that is Hackney. That would make me enjoy the world a bit more.

    Right now as Hackney is (G-d help me!!) the only world I get to enjoy I am beginning to get obsessed with the need for money. ‘Bout time too.

    I am also getting older and incrementally disinclined to revamp my CV or even polish up or get a skill.   I am applying for jobs and trying catalogue distribution. Not much there.

    I am feeling retired.  Put out to pasture.  Left to graze the meager tufts jutting between the rocks of a hard place.  (Am I a writer or what!?)

    Seriously, I am still here, in Hackney watching the new developments spring as I wait for the Summer’s Sun to  burn the carcass of my dead past.  In doing this the Summer’s Sun has enabled me to address some ‘home affairs’ and I am once again communicating with particular family and old friends.

    They are particular in that I love them even though I have not been in contact for over a decade. They are particular in that they didn’t give a rat’s fart about that and are phoning me up weekly. They are particular in that they love me more than money or the world it seems. And that is nice.

    Oh! If only I could escape the Hackney carriage of dole and ride on a star.  Or maybe an aeroplane.

    Yes, I am still here, love, and life is beautiful.  And not even the Hackney zombies can change that.

    love

     
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