"Well, that's boring!"

 A new show on Richard's Bass Bag* hosted by Evil Doctor Richard.

"Hello and welcome to Well, that's boring!, a new show on 'the bag' where we find the three most boring things out there and put them into third, second and first place. Firstly, let me apologize for all those Catholic priests and brothers who have interfered with children over the years. 

The format for the show is that we release our  winners starting with third place so let's get going. Good luck to all those boring people out there.

Third Place: 

Meet Clive. Clive works with computers and marketing and likes to tell stories and events in his life to his coworkers. The trouble is that his stories are long and are often in their second or third telling. Also, Clive is not a good listener and is happy to talk over other people.

Congratulations Clive!

Second Place:

The position of runner up actually goes to a cow.

Okay, being a cow in a paddock probably doesn't lead to the most exciting life but, even taking this into account, Sarah is a very boring cow. Notice how Sarah is standing all alone and looking for a passer by to talk to. Sarah is certainly one boring cow!

First Place:

First place was an easy choice and, to be honest, nothing else even came close. This guy is something else!

Peter runs a blog under the nom de plume The Curmudgeon. Okay, he has been boring in the past, but his latest post has taken him to new levels of boredom potential.

With clever boredom potential writing Peter  kicks off with a small paragraph about some brothers. Then he shows his ace card.

And on he goes...

And on and on and on...

This is boredom at its finest. Peter is a master on boredom and a very worthy winner of first place.

Congratulations and may you go on to bore people for many years to come!

A worthy champion of boredom!"

* the original bass bagging site

"In the end one only needs a little rosin."

 

At the end of the day The Curmudgeon would disagree with this.

"I disagree. I wouldn't even know
a B note if it bit me on the bum!"

I doubt The Curmudgeon has any violin rosin in his house. What really disappoints me though is that Robert (the quite a few things) can't identify the tune that Cynical Jesus likes to whistle. 

"B D# B(8va) A# F#."

Throughout the world this little tune is heard by many people and, no, it has nothing to do with an Apple phone.

I guess it's easier to scoff at rosin than it is to identify a little tune. 

My car broke down today.

 Hey, but the good news is that I'd already bought some new violin rosin.

Okay, I've got everyone listening now, it's Evah Pirazzi Gold Rosin - the same brand as my strings.

Okay, I know you're all going to be pleased for me. 

B D# B(8va) A# F# Recapitulation.

 Cynical Jesus and Beautiful Jesus were waiting.

Cynical Jesus

Beautiful Jesus

Angry Jesus was taking a dump and had been gone for a while.

"I hope he washes his hands well." quipped Cynical Jesus.

"Where does that music come from?" asked Beautiful Jesus. "Those other two bloggers don't seem to be able to find it."

"Ah, you mean those grammatically challenged two?" chuckled Cynical Jesus. "They're probably tone deaf."

"Don't be like that. I love you."

"Holy mother of God!"

Angry Jesus turned up looking a bit lighter.

Angry Jesus

"I talked to dad." said Angry Jesus. "He said it would be a relief for him to get rid of the humans. Looks like he's really lost interest in them. He said the Holy Ghost was spending a lot of time in Heaven playing video games and that he wouldn't care what we do."

"I thought the Holy Ghost was Mrs. God!" exclaimed Beautiful Jesus.

"Okay, okay, she." grumbled Angry Jesus. "Well, she ain't no babe you know!"

Cynical Jesus started whistling, "B  D#  B(8va)  A#  F#."

"I'm thinking of getting an Apple." said Angry Jesus.

"Well, just keep Eve away." quipped Cynical Jesus.

"So, who is this Peter guy? Is he the same one who was an apostle?" asked Beautiful Jesus.

"No pretty boy." retorted Angry Jesus.  "Just a guy who drinks a lot of wine. He has a blog called The Curmudgeon. Actually he has a swag of blogs but most of them don't get updated. I work through Richard's Bass Bag* because it is miles better than anything else around here. There's another guy called Robert the something or other. He keeps praying to me, a real nuisance. I see he's used both of you as advertising on his blog."

"I love Robert." said Beautiful Jesus.

"Fuck." said Angry Jesus.

"Put me in charge of Hell." said Cynical Jesus.

* the original bass bagging site

B D# B(8va) A# F#

It was this short and mysterious five note tune that summoned Cynical Jesus.

 He entered the church and walked past the church shop where business was raging (well, for a church).

He took a seat next to the other two entities who would make up The New Holy Trinity.

Angry Jesus sat on his left,

and Beautiful Jesus was on the other side of Angry Jesus.

"How does dad feel about us taking over?" asked Beautiful Jesus.

"He doesn't know yet." replied Angry Jesus.

"I thought he knew everything." quipped Cynical Jesus.

"Look, dad has long since lost interest in this little planet and The Holy Ghost is a bit past it. Hell, he even tried to change his name to The Holy Spirit. That's a bit weird! This planet needs a new leadership. I tried promoting The Blessed Curmudgeon for a while but he was just full of hot air." Angry Jesus explained. "Now it's up to us. Cynical Jesus, you will be my right hand Jesus and pretty boy will be our numero tre."

"Aren't I a lucky Jesus!" muttered Cynical Jesus. Then he whistled a five note melody. "B  D#  B(8va)  A#  F#."

"I like that tune." said Beautiful Jesus. "What's it from? A musical?"

"No, it comes from the spheres and it is already heard all around the world but people don't really listen to it. Soon, when they hear it, they will think of us. We'll soon control the morons. As they say in The Vatican, "La mamma degli imbecilli e` sempre incinta.""

"I like that." said Cynical Jesus.

"Oh, I think it's a bit cruel." said Beautiful Jesus. "Remember that we must love everyone."

"Jesus Christ!" blurted out Angry Jesus.

"Ditto." said Cynical Jesus.

Angry Jesus spoke to Beautiful Jesus. "Look pretty boy, we need to get rid of all this lovey dovey stuff and get back more towards fire and brimstone. That's why we need Cynical Jesus with us in The New Holy Trinity. Just remember that you're numero tre in this trinity."

"I love you Angry Jesus. I love you Cynical Jesus." said Beautiful Jesus.

Angry Jesus swore and Cynical Jesus just smirked. This was going to be an interesting team.  

Somewhere out in the world the spheres sounded a tune that went unnoticed by busy people.

"B  D#  B(8va)  A#  F#."

Introducing Cynical Jesus.

 We, at Richard's Bass Bag*, are pleased to introduce a new 'character' to our blogging community. Please welcome Cynical Jesus.

"Yeah, right!"

* the original bass bagging site

So, how's the Paganini project going?

 Next Saturday will mark one month since I started and, since my project was planned to last four months, I have three left.

Counting the tune (the easiest part), there are 12 parts to this piece. I've had a muck around with most of them but have concentrated on the first 4. My aim for this week is to get these four up to a reasonable level so that they can be polished over the next three months. That will leave 8 more to do. I've worked out the fingerings, bowings, etc. for these first 4 and can actually play through them so this week will contain a lot of repetitive practice. I'm planning on going to a jazz jam on Sunday so there will also be quite a bit of jazz practice. Today I'm having a play (jazz) with brother Daryl.

There you go.

I made something a little different for dinner last night but I'm not going to tell you what it was, only that it was washed down with a very good Cleanskin.

Someone in the supermarket told me that this stuff is better than French champagne. He was slurring a bit but seemed to know what he was talking about.

The post about nothing.

 ANZAC Day.

It's getting close to 7am.

TC is probably still wrapped up in bed and breaking a bit of wind. Robert (the quite a few different things) will probably be up and getting through his pre-breakfast rosary.

I've just had breakfast after knocking off two Last Posts - one at the Civic Centre and one at the Memorial Garden. I've got to say it went really well, my best yet, but the big play (some time after 11am) is still ahead of me.

It was a bit chilly out there but I've got the heater on now as I reflect on the excitement around the other blogs and as I search is my mind for a word to best sum them up.

TC is threatening talking about the possibility of another Windows series, or something similar, and Robert (the quite a few different things) is talking about getting Ivan The Terrible to do a cooking series.

Ivan The Terrible

So, as you can see, Richard's Bass Bag* is a bright beacon in a very dense fog that presently is our little blogging community.

The solution? Both TC and Robert (the quite a few different things) need to lift their act. I mean, no one (and I mean no one) is going to get excited about any of the following things:

• A left hand piano figure made up of 15835.
• A bedroom window.
• What people in Moera have for dinner.
• Where one can find golf balls for free.
• What people near the Whangarei Heads have for dinner.
• A dog's visit to the vet.
• More bedroom windows.
• A trip to the tip.
• Father Mike's opinions.
• Garden paving stones.
• I could go on.

In fact, I think I'll leave it there.

Ciao tutti.

* the original bass bagging site

ANZAC Day Eve.

 Why did Australia and New Zealand pick a fight with the Turks? I honestly don't know. I guess it was all part of some bigger picture. Was Istanbul still Constantinople back then? In those days our young soldiers fought for king and country. Yes, I know, in Aotearoa we don't have a king as such. 

We also have a National Anthem that starts off, 

"God of nations! at Thy feet. 

In the bonds of love we meet, 

Hear our voices, we entreat, 

God defend our Free Land. 

Guard Pacific's triple star, 

From the shafts of strife and war, 

Make her praises heard afar, 

God defend New Zealand."

So, according to our song, we're supposed to have a god who defends us from wars. That should make attacking Turkey a waste of time, if a god was there to protect us.

Anyway for about ten years I've been playing by trumpet at ANZAC Day and Armistice Day services in Nuova Lazio.

2018 on Armistice Day.

I do it as a community service. Sort of like The Curmudgeon doing crossing duty. On Armistice Day a treaty that was signed in 1918 is celebrated. It's a little funny how we're still going on about it 100 years later. 

Anyway, it's a reason to get out my trumpet twice a year and do a bit of work on the best way to blow it. In a comment on a recent post I mentioned the three things that can go wrong with a bottle of wine the three things that can improve your trumpet blowing. Just for the record, there are actually four things that can go wrong with a bottle of wine - it's also possible, besides the other three that The Wine Guy informed me about once, that you could drop the bottle onto a hard surface like concrete.

Anyway, to reiterate, here are the three trumpet things:

• A good supply of air (correct breathing).
• The placement of the lips.
• The angle the trumpet is held on.

I've noticed lately that Peter has become a bit obsessed about what I'm having for dinner. Robert (the quite a few different things) started this 'what's for dinner' thing and it seems to have caught Peter's fancy. 

Well, I do cook a lot but didn't think that anyone else would really give a shit about what I cook on a regular basis. I think I'll leave the 'what I'm eating' thing to people who post their meals on Facebook and Robert (the quite a few different things) who likes to give us a quick written description of his meal after that guy with the beard who plays the violin has talked to us.

Well, that's about it from me for today. 

Enjoy your Sunday and don't forget to do some thoughtful violin practice.

Ciao tutti.

La mamma degli imbecilli e` sempre incinta.

 When my second youngest brother was born, my mother told us older boys that, when this brother had grown up, we would all be driving around in hovercraft. That was in the 1960s, even before Peter made it into 3P. When I looked ahead to the future, I often imagined a society where people had learnt to make good, sensible decisions - no war, no bullying, and a general wisdom that would develop towards things that I personally didn't yet understand. This was before I settled for a place in 3G. 

When I look at the world today, I see a lot of intelligent, thinking people BUT I also see too many imbeciles.  It does seem that the mother of imbeciles is always pregnant.

THIS WAS A SHORT, ONE THOUGHT POST.

A friendly little post that won't upset other bloggers in our little blogging community.

 I did three hours of violin practice yesterday. Remember how I hurt my middle left hand finger erecting shelves the other day? Well, I've now hurt my left hand ring finger with too much practice. I'm now the Django Reinhardt of the violin.

Django

Good to hear that Mr Magoo's Peter's readership is up. This is because he is doing some proofreading of his posts, so three people are looking at his posts now.

Peter

Talking of posts, Robert (the quite a few things)'s last post was a cracker!

Hang on. It has disappeared! We're back with the 15835 fingering for Somewhere Over The Rainbow. In the key of C the first 5 chords (first 2 bars) would be... 

[CGCEC] [AEACE] [EBEGB] [CGCEG - for Cmaj7 to C7 (no change of notes)]

Imagine how much nicer it would sound if he used a voicing to cover the 7ths and less 5ths...

|Cmaj7 Am7| Em7/ Cmaj7 C7|

I hope that helps Robert (the quite a few things).

Here's a picture of a dog.

People like pictures of dogs and I thought this might cheer people up.

Well, that's it from me for this morning.

Leave a comment if you like.

Ciao tutti.

If anyone understands The Blessed Curmudgeon's botch up it would be Joseph.

 

"Sheesh!" to quote TBC. He remembers selling hosts as a kid and then thinks he's up to organizing a religion with a proper creed.

Well, Robert (the quite a few things) certainly poured him back into his bottle. [check out our last post]

I guess we're in for more gardening posts over at The Curmudgeon Ink. 

 

I'm guessing there will also be quite a few fillers by The Wine Guy.

There'll also be a lot of parallel universing.

If you plan to venture over to The Curmudgeon's blog, good luck.

TBC 'cooling things down a bit' after Robert (the quite a few things) points out that he doesn't really have a Creed.

 Was it something to do with the painted egg?

In a glass of its own!

Or was it Geoff's reaction to the natural jetty?

"I've seen better."
said Geoff.

Well, The Blessed Curmudgeon tells us he's taking a bit of a break from spelling out his Creed.

"I'm taking a bit of a break."

"Your creed really only says what you do not believe in and reads more like a refutation of the Catholic Church's creed. You might as well say, "I don't believe that pink is black, that straight lines are crooked, or that Richard (of RBB) is Chinese."" Robert (the quite a few things) told him. [I tidied up a bit of Robert (the quite a few things)'s grammar.]

TBC didn't really have an answer for this, except to run for the hills.

"You know. Sparky, you're really confusing me with someone who gives a fuck." TBC threw in a quick one liner as he took off.

I guess it was always a wild dream and having a plan to have a church on water really should have told us something from the start.

In years to come, when TBC's church is mentioned, happy Catholics will just give this one liner...

"It sank!"

Here's one for The Curmudgeon.

 PARALLEL.

Lines on an American football field.

Steps for up and down.

Two things moving in the same direction.

Parallel bars.

These parallel lines say,
"No passing!"

Now, here we go...

Parallel universes!

As The Curmudgeon said...

"Yes, all good apart from your injury.Hey! Have I told you about my installation of shelving units in the basement?
And the stupid 'tradies' ute that nearly ran me off the road?
I'm soon going to write the creed for The Church of the Blessed Curmudgeon.
By the way, I hurt my hand installing my shelves too but strange enough, I found that I couldn't play the violin afterwards."


At least there's an old joke at the end, along with a bit of interesting grammar earlier on.

Mercoledì.

I was driving down by the Nuova Lazio shops. A dickhead in a little truck came bursting out of his angle park because he knew I  had to stop - I was driving my daughter's little car that was no match for a well built little truck in a collision. I guess he would have killed me. I thought about him for a while. I wondered if he has other things besides his sturdy little truck that he uses to try to keep his self esteem high. Then I moved on with my life.

Yesterday I assembled these shelves.

My daughter, who is staying, has quite a bit of stuff and Shelley wanted it up off the floor. I assembled the one on the left first. They're made of metal. It was long, slow work with a few difficulties. Half way through I did pretty bad damage to one of my left hand fingers.

You can't really see it here.

I thought straight away, "Violin! Caprice No. 24!"

It bled like crazy and there was a big flap of skin that I had to press back into place. Fortunately I can still play the violin on this the 21st day of my project. The second shelving unit went together quite easily and it made me think about that caprice - things get easier with practice. 

That's probably a lesson that the dickhead in the little truck will never learn as he speeds through life saying, "Me, me, me!"

The Blessed Curmudgeon is still going on about his church. Robert (the lots of things) told him that he needs a Creed. I had to look the word up. It's 'a brief authoritative formula of religious belief'. Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle! I stole that line from Mickey Mouse or Goofy or one of those Disney comic characters. 

A brief authoritative formula of religious belief sounds like something you're going to ram down someone else's throat. It's the belief bit that gets me. I mean, take what that dickhead in the little truck probably believes. I wouldn't mind betting that he talks a lot about his right to freedom. It makes me also think back to perverted dickheads like Brother Benedict.

He believed in a Creed and we used to have to read it and memorize it in his class. I remember that he had a very short fuse and would pull out his cane at the slightest displeasure. We kept our heads down and read his silly Creed.

"I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth, and all things visible and invisible..."

I suspect that The Blessed Curmudgeon could come up with a better Creed.

The Blessed Curmudgeon 
growing his hair long to 
look more like Jesus.

Well, it's time for violin practice. Sheesh! to that.*

* Sheesh!, along with its exclamation mark, takes the place of Amen so no capital letter is needed on the 'to'.