Great news!

 Robert's blog might always get today's date wrong, but he spelt 'tsunami' correctly!

Well done Robert! Though, with all that AI crap he uses, you'd think that he would have the skills to get the date on his blog correct.

Ah well, like many others, my phone woke me with a very loud noise at 6.30am. A tsunami warning. I was looking forward to a slight sleep in because I have no work today. We don't get many tsunamis in the Nui. It's pissing down outside (that means it's raining heavily) and I need to deliver our elderly neighbour's paper. Fun!

Paper done.

Oh, and here's a picture of me with a baby.

This picture of me, with a baby boy, is a special
picture for me.

As some of you know, I have two grandsons, the older one calls me 'andad'. The younger one doesn't talk yet. This cute little baby is neither of them. The photo was taken 39 years ago. Neither of them was born then (Peter might struggle with that maths because they mainly studied Latin in 3P). I now call this baby 'dad'. Happy birthday, George. You and your big sister have made my life special. xxx

See you later. I'm off to a birthday lunch today.

Ciao tutti.

Stop Press:

39 years later.

From the horse's mouth.

 

I got out of playing with that folk band. It took an hour to drive to their rehearsal space last night, and a very hard hour of driving home, on unfamiliar roads, in the dark. I've just got the art gallery gig coming up now. Oh, yes, and a play with the PBs. Robert will probably wear an American flag to that because he is bringing some funny little American tune. Who knows, he might even dress up as Donald Trump! AI has its uses for him.

I'm tired today, probably caused by my IBD or the meds I have taken. I also taught in Upper Hutt this morning. I haven't yet done any practice today. I'll have to try and put that right. Time will tell.

I've heard that Peter got into a bit of trouble for practising the bagpipes in his Wellington apartment, though he still moaned about hearing a brass band practising nearby the other day. 

Peter is on dinner again tonight. He is evidently cooking Hawaiian muscles in blueberry sauce with half cooked baked potatoes. Well, quite a few of his plans are half baked. I guess it is good to go with what you know.

Robert has been told to eat more vegetables and to look after his skin. He's having fish n chips tonight. Well, the potato IS a vegetable. What do you think chips are made out of?

Well, that's probably enough for this afternoon.

Ciao tutti.

NTTWAPTM.*

 * No time to write a post this morning.

I have to get ready for work pretty soon. 

Robert left a 'helpful' comment on my last post.

"I do a lot of that waffling. If you think about it, there are seven notes in a scale, four of which will sound good I.e. 1 3 5 7, the 6 could be ok too. So you only have to keep away from the 2 and 4! Pretty good odds of sounding alright."

If you believe that, you'll believe in the Christian god. All the notes of the major scale (Did he mean a major scale?) will sound okay in certain circumstances, But, what if a Cdim7 chord pops up? Or a C#dim7 chord? Or a C7#5#9 chord? Hey, they DO pop up.

Anyway, I've got to go.

Ciao tutti.

NMTTM.*

 * Not much time this morning.

It was great to see Peter in the Nui yesterday.

During the chat I started talking, "I'm not rich but..."

Shelley interrupted to say, "But you are Rich!"

This took the wind out of Peter's sails because that is one of his favourite retorts and Shelley beat him to it. You have to be quick with jokes in the Nui. It was a good learning experience for Peter.

It's good to know that he found his parking space at his new apartment.

I'm off to an 'audition' with a folk group this evening. I'm taking my violin because, even though they wanted me to play bass, I don't feel up to lugging a bass up a steep drive at the moment. If I fail the audition, it's really no big deal. The good thing about the possible gig is that it made me really work on listening for chords. Folkies like to use a capo on their guitar. This means that, even though the chord progressions are pretty simple, you never know what key you'll be facing - it could be C or D or F# or Db. This means that you have to be comfortable with hearing their six main chords in all 12 keys. That's good training for the ears. Though, when you're playing a melodic instrument like the violin, there is always harmonic approximation to fall back on. Harmonic approximation, for those who don't know, is where you take the scale from the key (say, in G, you use the G major scale) and you just waffle around.

For those who don't know, the device behind the 
hand that is going across the strings is called a capo. 
It makes the sound of all the guitar strings
higher in pitch. That chord may look like a C
chord, but it's now really something like Eb,
depending on what fret the capo is placed just behind.

Well, there we go, you got a bit of a music lesson today.

Time to get ready for work.

Ciao tutti.

Back from the jam.

 

Old music joke.

Looks like I might be having a cup of coffee with Peter today.

A cup of coffee.

I assume that this is happening in Wellington - as far as I know, Peter hasn't yet passed the Wainuiomata Joke Certificate test.

******************************

WAINUIOMATA JOKE TELLING CERTIFICATE

 

FULL NAME……………………………………

 

This certificate verifies that ………………….(Christian name only here) has successfully met the required standard for telling jokes in Wainuiomata. He/she has demonstrated skills with puns, one liners, jokes that tell a story and witty, sarcastic  remarks.

 

This certificate is valid for five years after its date of issue or until the jokester reaches the age of 73.

 

Date of issue………………………………..

Signed by an official Wainuiomata

 jokester…………………………………

Name………………………………………………….

******************************

Sorry that it took so long for me to report on the jam. BTW (by the way) I hope you liked the little 'jam' joke at the start of this post. At the jam there was a drummer / flautist / singer, a bassist, a guy playing bongos, two guitarists, a pianist, a clarinet player, a trumpeter, a saxophonist and me on violin. In my opinion, the general playing standard was not high. For example, I heard the bassist playing out of tune. The drummer and people near him called all the tunes and we guys furthest away (the three horn players - clarinet, sax and trumpet) and I didn't hear a lot of the instructions. Anyway, it was good practice at playing by ear and turning out the melodies like a singer does. People seemed to like my playing. Well, I probably practise a lot more than the rest of them. My recent listening practice certainly paid off! 

* * *

Well, I'd better get organised. Peter may well want to have coffee in the morning.  I've also got to visit a friend who is in hospital and do my violin practice.

Ciao tutti.

Peter, leave a message with where and what time you'd like to have coffee.

Are you doing proper warmups on your instrument when you practise?

 [To the melody of 'Going to the Zoo']

I'm going to a jam today,

Jam today, jam today.

I'm going to a jam today,

It'll feel like I've stayed all day.

I'm going to a jam, jam, jam,

Pete won't give a damn, damn, damn,

Playing tunes in F, Bb, C and Am,

I'm going to a jam, jam, jam.

Listen HERE if you don't know the tune.

I'll be taking my violin, but how will I be heard over those trumpets and saxophones? I have a small, and easy to carry, battery powered amp and a cordless receiver on my violin that is also battery powered. I can easily compete with those other instruments AND I can play much higher notes on my violin than the average trumpet player can manage. Most musos at this jam will have charts (music) in front of them. I don't do this. I have enough jazz standards in my head, and I can hear my way through most songs that might come up. Playing by ear is an important skill. Hey, singers do it all the time!

I'll do my regular warmup exercises this morning while Shelley is reading the Sunday paper. When she has finished, I'll take the paper over to our elderly neighbour. She loves a chat, so it'll take me about an hour to drop off the paper. Hey, she's a lovely lady so I'm happy to chat! 

Never forget, when you're warming up, that tone and intonation come first. Then you should have things that you repeat every day. For me that's double stops, 3 - 7 voicings and arpeggios. Why not scales? Well, I actually do them a lot too. Then there's the chord progressions to my four solo pieces and any tricky bits, like the chorus to The Orange Blossom Special with its Hokum Bowing 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16. These are double stops with the bold underlined notes using higher strings. 

Peter is in Wellington AND it appears that he found his carpark at his new apartment! He even found time to leave a lengthy, though not proofread, comment on my last post. I assume that things are going well for him and Lynn. 

Robert had a little post on display yesterday, but today it's back to this.

I know that he's now doing quite a few AI posts on Facebook AND he has even reverted to his correct name! I can never work out why he frequently deletes his blog posts. Maybe it's something to do with being a cellist? Maybe a priest tells him to? Who really knows?

Well, it's nearly time to start thinking about practice. I'll leave you there for today.

Ciao tutti.

A big black ute is the way to go!

 

Okay, don’t get me wrong, I’m doing okay, but lately I’d been feeling that there was something missing in my life. I’d noticed those world leaders (you all know them) who seem to be extremely rich and who seem to do exactly as they please. No one seems to be able to stop them. Compared to them, my existence seemed to go by pretty well unnoticed. Often when I spoke, people weren’t really listening. I just didn’t seem to be making an impact. I was sitting in a bar one day and, by chance, I met a guy whose name was Bob Adil. Hey, that name reminded me of a word in the English language that is spelt the same but doesn’t have a space in the middle. I can’t recall what it means. Anyway, we got talking. A few wines opened me up a bit and I started telling him about how I felt. He listened reasonably intently and then he said, “Yeah, I’ve been there, but I know how to fix your problems. You need a ute, a big black one.”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but I listened. He talked on quite a bit and, among the other stuff, I remember him saying, “No one messes with a guy in a big black ute!”

He told me that, if you want to be ‘the man’ you need to have power over other people. They need to be a bit scared of you. Then he carried on, “Look at how most people drive in this country. There don’t seem to be many cops around. People drive fast. The speed limit for trucks is 90kph, but do you see them sticking to it? Drive down any highway at 100kph. There’ll be lots of people passing you. Driving fast is a great way to look cool. People will try to pass each other but, take my word for it, no one messes with a big black ute!”

Then he told me about those slow drivers, like I had always been, who stutter along at 80 or 90kph. “Get right up their arse!” he told me, “Those wankers shouldn’t be driving on a highway! Haven’t they seen those 100kph signs?” I tried to interject by saying that 100kph was the speed limit, not how fast you need to go, but he just laughed. “Get a big black ute,” he interrupted, “and I will teach you.”

I had a bit of savings and was able to use hire purchase to acquire a big black ute. They’re not cheap. True to his word, he gave me lessons. He showed me how to speed up the Wainuiomata hill road, even on a stormy day, to show everyone else who was the boss around here. It was true, no one except for the odd truck, wanted to take on that big black ute!

Now I feel empowered. I spend a lot of time driving and a lot of time driving very close to anyone who is silly enough to be on the road in front of me. Hey, I can tell that those slower drivers know that I am the boss!

If you use our roads, I am the guy behind you who is important, and in a hurry, so FFS move over or get off the bloody road!

I haven’t seen much evidence that speeding and aggressive driving do any real harm. If it did, people would all be taking buses and trains.

 

Home alone.

Home alone in this blogging world, unless Peter can post from Wellington. I suppose he probably can, if he finds the right road to take him to his residential carpark.

Robert seems to have moved over to Facebook.

Ah well, I might as well talk about music.

I did my 1 and 3/4 hours of required violin practice yesterday. I warmed up with long bows, worked for quite a while on my double stops, ran over my four solo pieces and worked on my jazz repertoire. No AI was used. Double stops - 3rds or 6ths? I prefer 6ths. You get a wider sound, but the notes are closer together. I'll need to get that double bass practice going again soon. I'm going to a jazz jam on Sunday with my violin, so maybe I'll get the DB going on Monday. Because it is tuned in 4ths, I think that 3rds would work best on the double bass. Fourths and fifths tuning - the two instruments are like mirror images of each other.

Okay, moving right along.

This post needs a picture or two.*

Cuba Street.

Moera.

Wainuiomata, where the girls are smarter.

There have regularly been three bloggers in this community.

Peter, the oldest blogger (age wise), is returning to Wellington (part time at the moment) from Whangarei. His apartment is on Cuba Street, with his parking space is off a street at the back of the building. He is very close to Alistair's Music. Unfortunately, the shop doesn't have any bagpipes at the moment. Still, Alistair is an old friend of mine and, if Peter mentions my name, he and Alistair can be friends too.

Robert is/was the youngest of the three bloggers. He sort of comes and goes. His blog is vacant at the time of writing. He has been 'leaving his message' on Facebook, using a nom de plume (Testore) that he stole from me. He is presently using lots of AI pictures to present the truth of Catholicism. He lives in Moera.

I am quite a bit younger than Peter (at least a week) and was the first of the three to start blogging. That was in 2007. My blog is the foundation of this community and, I think it is fair to say, both the other bloggers aspire to get their blogs up to the same high level. For them that's a work in progress.

Moving right along again.

It is 3 degrees in the Nui this morning. 

We have had this clear sky, frosty weather for about three or four days. It's better than constant rain. On the days I work, it is quite a job to get the ice off the car windows. 

Moving right along, yet again.

I'm going to a jazz jam tomorrow afternoon at 2pm. It's a jam that's open to all levels of playing and is held in the Aro Street community hall. Maybe Peter might show up with his bagpipes? They have a song list and most people read off the music, which doesn't usually happen at jazz jams. I don't do that. They also normally have two bass players playing at the same time. That's a bit weird. Still, it's a chance to have a play.

On Tuesday evening I'm going to an 'audition' with a folk band. They really want a bassist but I'm taking my violin to the first meeting. It's a chance to try out all my double stops. Though, the main trick on a violin, in a situation like this, is not to over play - leave plenty of room for the singer. Most folk songs work around six chords that come from the major scale. The little challenge I've set for myself is listening for these chord changes. It's a great exercise that I would recommend to any musician. As I say to my violin students, "You should be able to play like a singer sings - listening." Many Classical musicians don't really get this experience because they spend most of their time playing other people's music.

Time is moving on, so I'd better wrap this up.

A little pun there for Peter.

Ciao tutti.

* or three

A bit of advice, please don't wear that hat in Wellington!

 

Peter is heading towards Wellington tomorrow and intends to arrive on Sunday. Actually, Wellington is cold enough for a hat like that at the moment. It could work on Cuba Street. Anyway, your first job is to find your parking space when you arrive. It might not pay to look like you've just flown in from Alaska.

I wonder if we'll get a final post today?

* * *

Robert is an AI fan who would like to be the pope.

After all the supposedly false things that someone wrote about the pope using AI, I thought he'd be avoiding it now. But no. Just like Trump he's using AI to look like the pope.

* * *

I've got to get a lot of practice done today. I only did 15 minutes yesterday - it was a busy day at school. I'll aim at doing at least 1 hour and 45 minutes today. I see that the PBs are having a jam and that Rob is practising blues scales to get ready for it. If he wants to go that way, he'd be better off practising major and minor pentatonic scales, though major scales would do the trick well too. Ah well, it's his business. 

Personally, I'm getting ready for a folk gig. The music will not be hard, but I want to do a good job. Folkies tend to use the first 6 modes from the major scale to find their chords. I'm practising listening for these chords - it's a good exercise. In C major these chords would be C Dm Em F G7 Am, but they could require transposition to any key - remember that folkies like to use a capo on their guitar. One never goes wrong giving one's ears a workout.

* * *

I feel like writing a song about Peter coming to Wellington.

He hopped in his car,

He was going far,

He listened to Duke Ellington

On the long trip to Wellington.

He'd break up the trip, at some mo',

With a night spent in Taupo.

He listened to Duke Ellington

On the long trip to Wellington.

He'd get to the capital before dark,

He had to find his car park.

He listened to Duke Ellington

On the long trip to Wellington.

This long drive required grit,

He had a carload of unnecessary shit,

He listened to Duke Ellington

On the long trip to Wellington.

He'd stop for a pie and

Thought about Rob and AI.

He could always wear a

Silly hat if he popped into Moera.

His jokes would be new he

Thought, if he popped into the Nui,

He listened to Duke Ellington

On the long trip to Wellington.

Ciao tutti.

1 degree centigrade.

I haven't got much time to post because I need to leave the house by about 7,30am to get to work and do my violin warmup.

I need to have a shower, but it will be freezing in the bathroom. Don't worry, I won't be taking my phone into the bathroom. Why would I need it in there anyway?

Today's reading is from Matthew 17:12.

"Matthew was freezing but he knew that God would be warm up in Heaven. God liked the cold on Earth because he liked watching ice hockey. Moses was already at work putting the finishing touches to his Ark. He wished that God would hurry up and invent heat pumps. However, he knew that there was no way to hurry God along. Matthew put on a lot of warm clothing, but God told him that he was a bit of a sissy. Matthew never liked to question the word of God, but he had worked out that all things were relevant. It's fine to sit up there, warm in Heaven, and be smug. Matthew tried not to question the word of God."

Right, it's shower time. Best to get it over with. 

Ciao tutti.

Don't neglect your music practice, unless you play the bagpipes or the drums. Actually. the silly old bloke down the road, who knows everything, told me that drums AND THE VIOLIN should be practised in a shed. He didn't mention the bagpipes.

"Yes, I agree. Richard is a tool."

 

This is a message that was left on my last post by TC.* I'll take that as a compliment. He's obviously trying to say that I'm a handy guy to have around. Well, I do proofread his posts for him.

Actually, I was just back from the hospital. I was told that I have a bowl disease (I changed that 'b' word so that Robert will understand) but that they can treat it over time. This tool has anxiously been waiting for this meeting with the doctor for some time. Today was good news because they also ruled out another thing. Something worse.

Peter is a wash hand basin.

When I need to wash my hands, after dealing to my bowl (Robert's spelling again), it is good to know that Peter is coming to Wellington. A wash hand basin like Peter could be handy to have around.

Well, there you are, you got two posts today.

Ciao tutti.

* AKA Peter the wash hand basin.

A quick post

 because

I'm bzzzzzzy this morning.

I'll be bzzzzzzy tomorrow morning too but, hopefully, Friday will be a quieter day.

Robert will probably chuckle when he sees my 'bzzzzzzy' statement. I see that he's getting quite heavily into AI.

Here's an RI picture that I created.

I know that Peter likes to use TCI. Here's an example.

TCI want (yes, plural) to take over my blog but I'll use RI to stop them.

Here's an example of what RI can do...

I heard a rumour that players want to change the name chess to chest. Then Robert will have to say, "I've been enjoying playing a lot of online chest. To climb the ladder I just have to play lots of matches, a few of which I inevitably win." Is he talking about the same ladder that Peter uses to climb in and out of his attic? If this is the case, Rob, be careful. It seems to be an easy ladder to fall off. Remember too, Rob, not to light those matches while you're playing chest.

Okay, that's enough RI for this morning. Boys, if you decide to try RI, please be careful. It's a powerful tool.

Ciao tutti.

What do you call a man wearing two hats?

 It depends on what his name is. For example, if his name is John, you call him John.

John

John liked to play tennis at his local club. He had been good at tennis as a youngster. Nowhere near international standard, just good enough to win a lot of club games that he played. Now he played amongst the seniors, some of whom showed up on court with a walking stick and some of whom called the ball 'out' when it was inside the line. John often wondered why he still showed up, but it filled in his Wednesday mornings.

The senior players were used to seeing John wearing his two hats and no one commented because he came across as a nice guy and showed kindness to everyone at the club. Normally, in a story like this, someone new shows up who is arrogant and everything changes. This didn't happen at John's tennis club.

* * *

I don't really have much to report about my practice. Let me see what I can think of to tell you. I thought that I might get my second fiddle* out and give it a play. It'll be interesting to hear how it sounds. It has Evah Pirazzi strings on it.

Oops, just got a call from dad and he's bringing my grandson around. 

Better go.

Ciao tutti.

* Not Robert, as he used to be called.

No posts this morning.

 

No comments either.

But where are the bloggers?

Off playing cricket.

I hear that he's best in the field.

Might be at Mass.

He's probably eyeing up the communion hosts.

I had a late night, and I have some jobs to do this morning.

Obviously, there is practice to do too.

If you've popped by the blogs this morning, maybe you'd be better off reading a book.

Though give this one a miss.

Ciao tutti.

Richard goes on a trip.

It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,

He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.

He loitered here he loitered there, till he was like to drop,

Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.

"Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,

I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark."

* * *

When I couldn't think of what to write this morning this poem popped into my head. We must have learnt it when I was in 3G or maybe 4G or 5G.

"Ironbark is a rural locality in the City of Ipswich, Queensland, Australia." I had to look that up online.

This is not a picture of Ironbark.

Not Ironbark.

So, why am I going on about Ironbark?

Well, I got up to no posts to read from the boys. Nothing new from either Peter or Robert. Hey, that's not really unusual. Robert has probably been playing cricket and is tired - he talks a lot about fielding. Peter? Well, when I rang him at just after 8am yesterday he was still in his Dutch Oven. Hadn't even had time to drop his phone in the bath.

* * *

You probably read the title to this post and wondered where I was going. No, I'm not travelling to Ironbark. I'm actually talking about a different type of trip. The sort of trip that old(er) people have. The sort that Peter specialises in at the golf club.

Yesterday was rubbish collection (and recycling collection) day. The guys usually come pretty early and yesterday was no exception. I had four bins to 'put away', our recycling and rubbish bins and the same two bins that belong to our elderly neighbour whose paper we also deliver. We have had lots of rain and you have to walk on wet grass to return our bins to their rightful place, so I decided to wear my big heavy work boots. As is my normal plan, I do Val's bins first. I grabbed her two bins and took off up her drive. There are three big concrete slabs on her drive and the first two do not sit evenly. These slabs are probably each about 3 metres long. One concrete slab sits about 2 or 3 centimetres higher than the one before it. This is what one of my big boots bumped into. I must have been moving at a bit of a pace because my body was thrown forward, leaving the two bins to fend for themselves. The only memory I have of the fall is the pretty extreme pain I suffered when I hit the stoney concrete. My right hand and my right leg took the brunt. I must have screamed out because Val heard me and came out to help. Getting up was a very hard job. I had to use my damaged hand for momentum until I could get my other hand onto the top of one of the bins - the side of a bin really, as they were both laying on their sides. 

We managed to get the bins up to her garage and I limped home to put our bins away. Then I went inside to inspect the damage. My right knee was bleeding right through my trousers and my right hand was stinging badly and bleeding in places. I seemed to go into shock for a few hours. Shelley patched me up. Thanks darling. Fortunately, I sort of felt much better by mid-afternoon. My recovery was helped by a glass of Cleanskin. As my mother used to say, "It'll either cure you, or make it worth having."

On the up side, I was able to get some good violin practice done later in the day. I guess I was lucky that my left hand seemed to escape injury, though the little finger feels a bit stiff this morning. I'm going to pop into Wellington to get a spare set of those Violino strings while they are available. The music shop is very close to Peter's new apartment. Maybe, in the near future, Peter will be able to get my strings for me? I guess it'd be wise to give him a lesson or two on choosing violin strings first.

Go the ABs tonight!

Ciao tutti.

Pirastro Violino.

 

Take a closer look at my little violin picture today. Something has changed.

Okay, here's a picture to help you out.

The wrappings on the end of the strings are a different colour. I bought these at Alastair's Music yesterday, on his recommendation, and they sound great! They were also not as expensive as other strings I buy.

I'd never heard of this particular string before. Pirastro make lots of differently named violin strings - Obligato, Evah Pirazzi, Tonica, etc.

I do have a funny story about these strings.*

Quite a few years ago I was playing double bass in the Wellington Chamber Orchestra. There was a lady bass player who was one of those people who know everything and don't listen to what you have to say. We both finished up talking to a violinist in a break. I noticed that her strings had blue wrappings and I asked her what they were, suspecting that they were a Pirastro string. She said, "They're Pirastro." I replied, "Yes, but what type?" The know it all lady spoke up in a big voice. "She has just told you!"

Idiot!

Now, finally, I know that they were Pirastro Violino strings. If that know-all lady had simply shut up, I might have found out years ago.

Someone said to me, not long ago, "We have two ears and one mouth." I liked this! It is no fun talking to someone who doesn't listen. Here's a little trick, if you want to be a nice person - SHUT UP AND LISTEN when someone is telling you something that is important to them.

So, what is happening around the blogs?

Peter is back telling tennis club stories. Lynn and him have rented an apartment in Wellington, which Peter will live in at times. I checked it out yesterday when I was out buying violin strings. His new residence is very close to the violin shop. Lucky Peter!

Robert did a short little post that finishes by telling us to 'stop sin'. Actually, to be more accurate, the message is written more like this...

Stop.

Sin

Notice where the full stop is. That could mean to stop what you're doing and go sin.

I just rang Peter to talk about how to get to the car park for his new apartment. Fortunately, he hadn't dropped his phone in the bath. Actually, the lazy bugger was still asleep. We had a quick conversation where I said, "I'm not rich, but..." He interrupted me to say, "But you are, that's your name!"

No one has ever made that statement before. I was very impressed by his quick humour. Maybe 'impressed' is not the right word to use here? Knowing Peter, and his incredible wit, next he'll be calling me Rich Shit! How can I possibly compete with this guy?

I'm off to try and think up jokes that are almost as good.

Ciao tutti.

* Though obviously not as funny as TC's tennis club stories.

A new form of intelligence is sweeping blogging sites.

 It is known as RI and it is already making changes to the way things were and making predictions.

For Example:

The capital of Thailand will now be known as Whackdick.

This blog recently changed its name but where are the posts?

"When a blog stops putting comments on other blogs, 
its end is near." says RI.

I suspect that you're beginning to see the power of RI.

Okay, back to my practice.

My music practice is easy now because I'm using RI. I can even get bagpipes sounds out of my violin. All I have to do is play one of the notes in the one available scale a bit flat. Sometimes I make two notes a bit flat and that sounds even better!

On my bass playing tunes is now easy. Music theory is a waste of time. RI tells me that there are only 12 different notes in music, using the tempered system. Play any note and you have a 1 in 12 chance of picking the best note. Those are pretty good odds. Who knows, if you pick a 'bad' note, you might sound like a jazz musician?

I'm also using RI to make humerous pictures. Check out this one:

I took this picture

and look what I did to it!

Pretty unbelievable, eh!

One blogger has contributed to RI by showing how we can successfully change our language.

Read this:

"Yestoday I went to the Wearhouse to by one of there sellphones."

Hey, it works, eh! Everyone can understand it!

Thanks to RI English language is now becoming easier for the slower members of our community.

I mean, whatever you write, you have a choice of there, their and they're. You can also freely choose between to, too and two!

If a word sounds the same as another, just choose whichever one you like!

Go RI!

The parable of the ancient 'blogger' who didn't update his blog.

He was in one of those countries in the ancient Middle East and Jesus walked among the people in a market that smelt a bit of two or three day old fish.

Obviously, there were no computers in these days but the fishmongers liked to spend their time writing things on small pieces of wood, with sharp little fishing knives, that they later tried to get written up on scripts or in the few books that existed. Most of them had heard of a new book, called The Bible, that some guys were getting organised and they tried to write things that could work in that book. Consequently, they weren't spending as much time as they should have selling fish. Hence the smell.

The locals called these fishmongers 'bloggers' because they wrote what was often called 'bullshit' on their little 'logs'. Although it was said in a foreign language, this is the first time that the concept of the word 'bullshit' was defined. 

Jesus stopped and asked one of the fishmongers what he was writing. The man replied, "Well mate, I have a pair of balls so I call my little stories 'pair of balls'. I suspect that, as history has its effect and languages change, the spelling of my little writing miracles might change too."

"What is your name?" asked Jesus.

"Well, the fish that I sell are called Bass, so I write under the name of Vikard's Bass Bag. See that guy over there? He spends more time trying to sell his fish than writing. He calls himself The Chondrichthyes. You can see his little piece of log sitting by him, unused. That other guy, a bit further down, sells fish one day, then he spends time boring holes in things. He calls his writing Dod's boring snapper."

Jesus thought for a while and had a quick prayer with his Father in Heaven. Then he approached the guy named Dod. Jesus spoke to him. "Hello Dod, I have friends who are working on a book that will change the way people go through life. This book will be called The Bible. To cut a long story short, we're going to need bloggers to contribute. I hear that your writing efforts are inconsistent. We don't need holes bored in wood, we need words. Also, your fish are starting to smell."

Most historians agree that this is how parables started.

"I remember this day. Everything
written here is true."