The Shit on Sloppy.

 It has been discovered, at Richard's Bass Bag*, that the individual known as Sloppy Shit may not be who he says he is. Though, who would really want to claim the name Sloppy Shit?

New information points to the fact that he might really be The Sloppy Curmudgeon and is trying to infiltrate 'the bag'.

Look at this...

 There is a sly, deceitful scheme to discredit and take over RBB. It appears that The Sloppy Curmudgeon is very much part of The Curmudgeon Ink.

Be warned, dear readers, that all is not what it seems. If you choose to use our LINKS service to read The Curmudgeon's posts, PLEASE BE CAREFUL!

Please be VERY CAREFUL!

* the original bass bagging site

Sloppy is watching.

 

This is Sloppy. You'll never guess who he is, but he'll be watching you and he'll be watching your blog!

Promising new blogging character to change name.

 News has been circulating that RBB might be introducing a new blogging character to join the likes of Bin Hire, The The The Guy, Phillip Edward Nis and others. The announcement was made in a comment on the last post by Richard (of RBB). It appears that the name of this new character is Rich Shit.

However Mr. Shit issued this statement late last night.

"Okay, I am aware that part of my name may cause problems of identification of intention and maybe is not the best way to present me as a vital blogging character who can influence the direction of blogging. Most of you are aware that blogging standards have slipped a bit lately. Robert (with the very long title) is posting much less regularly, and The Curmudgeon Ink has dropped their popular Sunday Quiz in favour of a more boring series or two, or three. Some have suggested that my name, using the same part that is easily identifiable with this blog, could cause confusion. Fortunately, we have an old family name that I can call on. This is a name that holds a lot of family history for me. From now on I will be known as Sloppy. I will only be using my surname for formal occasions."

Richard's Bass Bag (the original bass bagging site) to take legal action against The Curmudgeon Ink.

 The proposed action is being planned because of an article in Blogging News.

Look closely at the 'photo'.

It is a screen shot taken from a post on Richard's Bass Bag.*

The two black lines (top and bottom) and the little white triangle give it away.

This adds up to Blogger Stealing and Blogger Fraud.

The penalty for these combined offences is a day trip to the Cleanskin Winery or

or a $2.50 fine.

I wouldn't want to be a Curmudgeon right now!

* the original bass bagging site

What a Piss off.

 John Piss was up early, especially considering that it was Sunday.

Sunday, the one day he could possibly still be found in bed at around 8am.

John certainly wasn't thinking of attending church. No, he was happy to add another Mortal Sin to his collection. John was the sort of guy who loved to do the crossword, and other puzzles, in the Sunday paper. These days he could get through them in less than half an hour. While his practice had certainly made him quick at puzzles, there was a downside. Time to kill. Nothing else to do.

He'd come across a set of blogs that didn't seem to pull a large readership but gave him some 'interesting' reading. There was one guy who wrote a lot about obscure Catholic saints, among other things. His favourite blog, which was very well written, served up a huge variety of interesting things from violin playing to the sad state of other blogs. He'd often say to himself, "John Piss, 'the bag' is for you!"

There was another blog that confusingly seemed like a set of blogs. It seemed to be run by a group of old men known as The Curmudgeon Ink and it featured a lot of typos. Most of the posts were boring but John did enjoy the Sunday quizzes that appeared regularly for a while.

THEN THEY STOPPED!

Just like an outside chair that was blown over in a storm, near unmoved pot plants.

To say the least, Mr. Piss was disappointed. Pissed off, actually.

He could understand why this blog had such a small readership.

Ah well, he supposed that he could easily read 'the bag' a couple more times, and that's what he did. 

He never gave another thought to The Curmudgeon Ink.

A new ring designed especially for The Curmudgeon's blog posts.

 

Boar ring.

You know what is scary?

 My 'Posto eliminato' drew eleven comments (okay, including a couple of replies from me).

That tends to support the old Italian saying, "La mamma degli imbecilli è sempre incinta."

I wonder what C. S. Lewis would have said about that.*

* Actually, I don't care.

A post just for The Curmudgeon.

 

Posto eliminato

Questo posto è stato eliminato dall'autore.

Lies and Truth.

 I'm just back from reading a very interesting post by The Curmudgeon.

The Curmudgeon.

Last night I got involved in a very interesting book about Saint John Chrysostom. St. John (his friends called him Sossy) was a Catholic priest who was famous for saying some very wise things. 

Here are some of the best thoughts he came up with...

• Confession is better than eating an egg sandwich.
• Jesus never wanted to be deputy prime minister.
• If you finish up on a cross, make sure you went to the toilet beforehand.
• If you cross a road and want to go back, use a pedestrian crossing.
• Life is like a dog. Pat him but don't smell his bottom.

There are violins with five strings.

The extra string is a low C string. Viola players don't like 5 string violins because they could potentially put them out of business. Viola players are violinists who didn't really make it as violinists. They are a sad breed who pretend that they play the viola because they like low notes. A lot of violinists who have a five string instrument hardly ever use the C string. Maybe their dream is to really have a high B string?

These are names that have never been the names of saints...

• Saint Cock.
• Deputy Saint David Seymour.
• Saint Tan.
• Saint Tnias.
• Saint Longcock.

Ciao tutti.

So you want pictures?

 Okay, I know that some of our readers, who are also bloggers, struggle with proofreading and grammar. So I thought that, if I just posted a few pictures, they could look, ignore the words, and relax.

No need for thanks boys (these grammar challenged bloggers are all boys).

1) 

My first born with my son's first born.
I generally call my daughter by her baby
name 'Nef', as fathers tend to do.
She calls this picture, "Nef with Neph."
(nephew)

2)

There's a lot of truth in this one.

3)

Sorry, that's a bit sexist. Whoops!

4)

One for the Catholic clergy to make up
for the last picture.

Well, that's all from me for today.

Ciao tutti.

It pays to say what you mean and keep it simple, so that a lot of people understand.

 There's a guy called Tent Horn who is a Catholic Apologist - I've noticed that, when he argues, he talks very quickly and uses big words.

This may make him sound intelligent, but he's really just confusing people. If he must do this, his argument cannot be very good, otherwise he would explain it simply.

Robert, in his last post, wrote a parable about a guy giving people talents (a form of money evidently) to test them.

He tells us that Karlo Broshart (whoever he might be) and the Pope said that Jesus was using gold as an analogy to charity and grace.

Che stronzata!

Bad move Jesus! How many people did you confuse? Are you the one who gave these silly teaching (or arguing) techniques to Tent?

What a stuff up!

It pays to say what you mean and keep it simple, so that a lot of people understand.

Remember: If no one understands you, you're probably talking shit. Even if you're not talking shit, don't you want to spread your message so that lots of people understand?

Solution = Slow down what you are saying and put it into simple words. Explain yourself very clearly. Let people ask questions, if necessary. Give a bit of time before you reply and don't dismiss their question by talking over it. Don't hide your message with metaphors. Hey, quite a few people will think you are talking about the thing that you actually mentioned. That's not because they are dumb. They're just not expecting metaphors. If you mean 'charity and grace', use those words and adjust your parable accordingly.

Ciao tutti.

The Curmudgeon's Sunday Quiz isn't happening today.

 This is what the end of the world might look like.

This is the effect on the world because The Curmudgeon isn't doing his Sunday Quiz today.

Okay, I'm off to see Robert shortly to play some violin.

This is what TC thinks a fiddle looks like.

Lyre!

Personally, if he had done his quiz, you'd probably be better off to have given it a miss.

Next he'll be doing those things like you see on Facebook.

Like, "What sort of a mermaid are you?"

"Peter, you are a pretty mermaid and you are kind and loving to everybody. You are always helpful and always ready to share your fishy breakfast but watch out anyone who is mean to one of your family or friends! Peter, you are a strong woman / fish!"

Thanks to Facebook for that final bit.

Ciao tutti.

Are The Curmudgeon's posts getting more boring?

 The question you must ask is, "When were they interesting?"

Do you remember this chair?

This was the feature picture in a post, quite a few years ago, about a 'storm' that hit the Whangarei Heads. The storm was so severe that it blew this chair over but didn't even move the pot plants.

Let's not forget the window series (yes, series) about windows in his house. That series made the two posts about rewiring his trailer lights look interesting!

Think back far enough and you might remember his long moan about a pregnant waitress who brought him a beer instead of a wine.

Wine has caused quite a few
reasons for the old guy to moan.

Of course, we all remember the fuss when a restaurant in Wellington served him a chilled red.

He actually went back the next day to complain!

* * *

Are The Curmudgeon's posts getting more boring?

The evidence shows that they are not.

The above graph is very kind because it suggests that TC might be attracting four readers. Well, there have been rumours that two people in Siberia read his blog, so we'll let that '4' figure stand.

The point is that the old guy's posts always reach the same level of interest. the '4' on the graph doesn't really stand for the number of readers (I was having a little joke). It actually records the interest level of each post, out of 100. 

 4/100, 4/100, 4/100, 4/100, 4/100, 4/100, 4/100, 4/100, etc.

Okay, let's not be too cruel, he's doing his best. It's just that it is unlikely he would get into 3P in 2024.

Ciao tutti.

San Francesco (1182 - 1226)

 La vita

Francesco nasce ad Assisi, in Umbria, dove trascorre la fanciullezza studiando il latino, il provenzale e la musica. Suo padre, Pietro Bernardone, e` un mercante di spezie e stoffe e spinge il figlio a fare il suo stesso lavoro. Ma Francesco ama la vita spensierata, fatta di feste e divertimenti e non ha voglia de lavorare.

A vent'anni partecipa alla guerra tra Assisi e Perugia ed e` fatto prigioniero. Tornato a casa traumatizzatodalla crudelta` della guerra, decide di dedicare la sua vita al servizio dei poveri, degli ammalati e del suo prossimo. Gli amici lo abbandonano, il padre non approva la sua decisione, solo la madre gli e` vicina.

Francesco trascorre un periodo di meditazione trale campagne e le colline di Assisi, pregando nella chiesetta di San Damiano nei pressi della citta`. Un giorno il crocifisso gli parla, "Va', ripara la mia casa che sta cadendo." Francesco, allora, vende le stoffe del padre e porta il denaro al prete di San Damiano, ma suo padre si arrabia ed il giovane e` costretto a nascondersi. Dopo pochi giorni Francesco, davanti al vescovo rinuncia a tutte le ricchezze paterne per vivere in poverta`. Molti giovani lasciano le loro famiglie per seguire il suo esempio.

San Francesco, well, an 
artist's impression of him
actually. After this picture
the dog chased the sheep.
Francesco went on to have
a music venue named after
him in Wellington. "San Fran."
Not too bad an outcome for
a boy from Assisi.*

Don't use Google Translate!

See if you can read and understand the story. Most of the important words are very close to their English equivalents.

SO DON'T CHEAT.

* When I was a boy we used to call him Saint Francis of a sissy.

Here's one for the boys.

 

B D# B A# F#

 If you don't have an Android phone, you probably won't know this tune.

B   D#   B   A#   F#

It's the sound it likes to make if there is something on your phone you should look at, like a message or something similar.

I don't know what sound Apple phones make because I've never owned one.

The tune is not a Dave Brubeck tune, and it's too melodic to be one of Ornette's, but are Apple mobile users missing out by not hearing this tune?

This tune is based around a major 7th chord. Root, 3rd, octave, major 7th and 5th. If I put the notes in order it would be B D# F# A# B. Obviously the tune is in B major.

I wonder if TSB's phone plays the first twelve notes to Take 5?

Bb  Eb  Gb  Ab  A  Bb  A  Ab  Gb  Bb  Db  Eb

Dave's tune is in Eb minor.

Well, I'd better get back to my violin practice.

Ciao tutti.

I will never mention printers again.

 I got an earful from both TC and TSB.

The two Ts.

T for two.

It is very windy in Nuova Lazio. I walked to the top of the Nuova Lazio hill yesterday and am hoping to do something similar today.

I'm intending to make violin practice my main port of call today. 

I'll be practising jazz - not TSB's favourite type of music, though he does like Take 5. TC probably won't be listening to Ornette.

As well as my jazz repertoire, I also have an Irish repertoire that I put together for a couple of Irish 'plays' and a short pop music repertoire. However, the jazz repertoire is where my heart is and it's so much more fun to play. So I'll only be practising that. There is no Dave Brubeck or Ornette Coleman in my jazz repertoire. For no reason, they just didn't make the cut.

Except for my violin half day, school seems to be finished for the year and that's good. 

Well, it does give me time to write posts like this.

Ciao tutti.

I got my printer working today! A post that is much more exciting than reading about TC working on his trailer.

 I bought a new printer about a week ago - a Canon because I wanted a printer that would take the same ink thingies that I had already bought for the old printer.

Well, there you go. That video saved a bit of typing, and you now have the whole story. 

A lot shorter than those trailer posts - probably really written by a man named Beau Ring.

Ciao tutti.

 

Let's talk jazz.

 Richard (of RBB): Happy Sunday.

I've invited some bloggers into the studio this morning to talk about jazz, we also have a live feed to Scotland so that we can include TSB. We're meeting early this morning because Robert needs to get to mass.

TSB, via live feed: Well, I'll chip in and get my bit done first because it is approaching bedtime over here. Some Jazz I like, most I don't. I do think Dave Brubeck was a genius, and I love to listen to his "Take Five".

Richard (of RBB): Thanks for dropping in TSB. You can go and listen to Dave now. Or maybe you're more in the mood for bagpipes this evening? In the studio we have Robert and Peter.

Robert: Hi, this will be a good post to count the number of times each name appears.

Peter: The Old Girl listens to a lot of jazz. Some of it I like and some of it I don't. Do you know that I have two Ornette Coleman CDs?

Richard (of RBB): Yes, you've already told us that.

Robert: I'm quite interested in that Coltrane thing where he puts all the music notes in a circle. He used that principle on Big Steps.

Richard (of RBB): I think you're talking about Giant Steps.

Peter: I certainly wouldn't say that I'm that keen on Ornette Coleman.

Richard (of RBB): I remember once that my youngest sibling and I were playing some jazz and my mother said that jazz sounded like you'd lost your place. An Irish friend told me that he didn't like jazz. I told him that in Irish music they just play the tune over and over again. 

Peter: Well, as you know, I used to play the bagpipes.

Robert: Yes, we could hear you from our place.

Peter: That's rude! I know that you boys are into fiddle music. I'll play you some Scottish fiddle music. LISTEN.

Richard (of RBB): Well, yes, that piece had some form to it, not just the tune over and over again. But we'd better get back to jazz.

Robert: Sorry, but I'm going to have to get to mass. We have Father Patrick today. He always gives a good sermon.

Richard (of RBB): Okay Rob, but that just leaves me and Peter and we've covered Ornette Coleman already. Hang on, I think that TSB is still on the line.

TSB, via live feed: There's nothing more stirring than the pipes. As for jazz, some I like, most I don't.

Richard (of RBB): Thanks TSB. Go to bed now. Well, thanks for coming in Peter. How's the hip?

Peter: It was fine before I went rock climbing the other day.

Richard (of RBB): Not very hip Peter, we're talking about jazz, not rock.

Peter: Yeah, well I think I'll be off too.

Richard (of RBB): Sorry, I forgot you won that prize and you're off to mass with Robert. I can see the bulge in a couple of your pockets. Communion hosts, I assume.

Peter: Yes. No point in letting them go stale. I might write a post about this experience.

Richard (of RBB): You usually do. Bye everyone. Don't forget to proofread Peter. We don't want any more mention of Anders or Big Steps.

Peter: That last one was Robert!

Richard (of RBB): Ah, go to church!

Looking back. No, I didn't mean, "Good looking back." as in when you admire your own back.

 This is me quite a few years back.

Jazz. Improvisation. The purpose of this video was to make it less than one minute long so that I could post it here - it seems that this site can only handle videos of that length (unless you go to YouTube).

It's good to see Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert (just mucking up Robert's statistics - see my last post) having a crack at improvising. We had a session together recently and I thought he did really well. 

Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.

Ciao tutti.

ps. How are the statistics looking Robert, Peter, Peter, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Robert?

Under the microscipe.*

 * I intentionally spelt 'microscope' incorrectly so that Peter would feel more at home.

 

Robert posted this comment on my last post.

Why?

Peter commented to ask what he had won.

Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert.

No, Peter didn't win 81 Roberts. I just added those names to muddle up any further statistics.

Maybe I need a few more Peters too.

Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.

And the other two!

Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley, Harrison, Shelley.

Just in case Twisted Scottish Bastard is feeling left out...

Twisted Scottish Bastard, Twisted Scottish Bastard, Twisted Scottish Bastard, Twisted Scottish Bastard, Twisted Scottish Bastard, Twisted Scottish Bastard.

 I hope everyone is happy now.

Hey, here's another one...

Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis, Phillip Edward Nis.

One more.

Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire, Bin Hire.

Oops, I nearly forgot The The The Guy!

The The The Guy, the the The The The Guy, the the the the The The The Guy, the The The The Guy, The The The Guy, the the the the the the The The The Guy, the The The The Guy, the the The The The Guy, The The The Guy, the the the the the the The The The Guy, the The The The Guy, the The The The Guy, The The The Guy, the the the the the the the the The The The Guy the the the the.  

Okay, everyone should be happy now.

Ciao tutti.

The grass that grows closest to a tree is less likely to get cut.

 

I was cutting our rather large lawn, that is home to a lot of trees, yesterday and this sentence popped into my head. I thought, "What a great saying that would make!"

Who knows, maybe I was put on this planet to come up with wise sayings. Anyway, the reason why grass is safer, if it grows very close to a tree, is because it can be hard to get a lawn mower close enough to cut it. Okay, okay, I know it can be got at with a weed eater or some snips, but that is extra work for the poor old person mowing the lawn and often gets left for another day.

Bloggers, please feel free to use this saying when you are posting. I know that Peter will jump at the opportunity! TSB? He's more likely to post about bagpipes with a picture of a half-dressed young lady.

* * *

Blogger Robert wrote an interesting post on Jazz and improvising the other day. Okay, proofreading would have improved the read, but it's good to see him doing research on this topic.

Peter was a little upset because he'd damaged his lip trying to play the bagpipes because no one seemed to know that he listened to Ornette Coleman.

"Bloody bagpipes!"
says Peter.

Still, Robert got lots of comments on his post.

* * *

Shelley and I are off to lunch with some Indian friends to celebrate Diwali. That means that the grass that grows closest to our trees will continue to grow, as my job was going to be to get the weed eater out today.

Tomorrow Harrison is visiting. He is seven months old now and a smart little guy.

My job tomorrow will be to give him some cuddles. It's a hard life being a grandad!

Well, I'll leave you there for today.

Ciao tutti.

Here's something I really don't care about.

 Peter has two Ornette Coleman CDs which he thinks are 'not too bad'.

Peter. I don't think he 
injured that lip playing
the saxophone.

Ornette.

Peter mentioned his 'collection' of Coleman's CDs in a comment on a post Robert had written (and not proofread) about improvisation.

I was left wondering, "Why did he feel the need to say that?"

Will this revelation about Peter's two CDs...

• make my day easier?
• inspire me to buy a saxophone?
• make me not notice Robert's interesting spelling?
• make me move permanently to Scotland?
• make me play Irish music for two hours every day?
• make me change my thoughts on how to improvise a jazz solo?

WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO SAY THAT?

I personally do not have any Coleman Hawkins CDs. Was he trying to make me jealous? Well, I have a thing called Spotify and I'm sure that I could listen to a lot of Coleman on that app, if I wanted to.

Maybe he just wanted Robert to know about his wide musical tastes?

Maybe he lied about the two CDs?

Maybe he didn't want us to think that his CD collection was full of ABBA , or Scottish music?

I think I'll have to leave this one for my readers to think about.

Or to forget.

A 3P blog post vs a clothes dryer.

 

In 1966, after an entry test, I was put into 3G at St. Patrick's College. 3G (3 General) was the second to top class. The brainy kids made it into 3P (3 Professional) where they learnt a bit of Latin (and how to steal communion hosts). I was happy to be in 3G because we got to learn more interesting things. One subject we did was 'Preparing For B Logging If Computers Ever Take Off'. Okay, there weren't many computers around in 1966 but we had some very forward-thinking teachers. One teacher told us that, one day, computers could get a lot smaller and there could be at least one computer in every street. He also confided in us that, in the rather distant future, ringing up a friend to talk could be replaced by Logging. Logging was a term that he imagined could be used for writing information, for others to read, on a computer. He saw this future activity as not being unlike cutting down trees and producing logs.

The Rector at our school thought the idea was a bit far-fetched but most of the boys he fancied were in 3P, so he didn't really care too much what was taught in 3G. However, since 3G was not the top class (but the B class), he insisted that the course be introduced as B Logging.

The teacher spelt out how anyone who hoped to be a B Logger would have to have exceptionally good grammar skills, so the study of good writing was made a compulsory parallel course. 

When the boys in 3P had finished their Latin for the day, they were given the option to play with machinery and build things. One very clever boy invented a machine to dry communion hosts. Sometimes communion hosts were made too close to the time of the next mass and they were not yet totally dry. This machine was a small cylinder (not unlike a modern-day clothes dryer) that spun around with hot air going through it. The machine was very popular (because of sticky hosts) and finished up running at the back of the 3P classroom for most of the day when mass time was approaching. 

The sound was so constant that some wondered if it was affecting the learning of some of the boys, especially the boys who were close to the machine. There was a boy from Marist Newtown who seemed a bit obsessed with the machine and liked to sit close to it. He was often seen opening the door of the machine and looking inside. He seemed to have a thing about communion hosts. A 3G teacher noticed this and had serious concerns that this could affect his concentration if, in later life, he ever got involved in B Logging.

In 2008, inspired by an ex-3G boy who had already set up a B Logging site, the ex-Marist Newtown boy adopted the nom de plume 'The Curmudgeon' and set to work inventing lots of characters to help with his blogs.

Who can honestly say, after reading his posts, that he was not influenced by that machine back in 1966?

Read a few of his posts and see what you think.

Quiz of Abuse.

 Is TC going from curmudgeon to tyrant?

Should this man be
running quizzes?

TC's latest quiz has been scored and the prize was awarded to well known blogger Phillip Nis.

Mr. Nis

Read what TC wrote when he presented the award for first place.

Obviously, this was very insulting for Phillip and obviously he replied.

At this point one would normally expect to see even a little remorse from TC. Instead, he seems to have missed the whole exchange.

WHAT?

Is this elderly blogger living in a world of his own? Maybe his head is still back in the 1960s?

This is not the way you treat someone who has generously entered a silly little quiz on a blog that boasts two regular readers! 

Okay, the very old guy has noticed that this gentleman's initials and surname spell out a certain male body part.

Childish!

Mr. Nis can't be responsible for the name he got at birth. There are lots of names out there that don't always do justice to the reality of a person. Mr. Smelly is a good example, as is Mr. Allcock.

Mature people move beyond these accidents of birth and get to know the real person.

It's time that mature respect was shown to Phillip Nis. It is widely known that he is 'a thinking type of guy' who is widely respected for his intellect and his kind heart.

Time to move past this childish, self centered behaviour Mr. The Curmudgeon.

Maybe a move like that might even help to boost your readership numbers? Well, I'm sure it's worth a try. 

No Saint's Day.

Is that correct?

"NO!" I hear you say. 

"Today is the feast day of Saint Acindynus."

St. Acindynus was a priest killed in the persecutions of King Sapor II.
He is one of the Martyrs of Isfahan.

Well, he certainly looks pissed off in the picture.

Come on, I bet that you've never heard of St. Acindynus, not to mention King Sapor II or the quaint little city of Isfahan.

This is why they probably plonked his feast day right after All Saints' Day. No wonder he looks pissed off.

Okay, here's a bit of background...

Isfahan is a major city (not really quaint or little) in the Central District of the Isfahan Province of Iran. It is located 440 kilometres south of Tehran and is the capital of Isfahan Province.

King Sapor (309 - 379) was king of Persia (many years ago, as you can see). His long reign was marked by great military success. 

Probably not the best image of old Sappy.

St. Acindynus died in 350AD. He shares November 2nd. with Saint Winifred of Wales. I reckon that old Achiny would have become a saint first. I wonder if someone asked him if he was prepared to share his feast day? Robert may know. 

Actually, All Souls' Day is also celebrated on November 2nd. One gets the impression that, when there's no more space left on the calendar, things get shoved in on this day. Poor old Achiny certainly has become a bit of a martyr. I think I'd look pissed off too.

* * *

Well, I'm off work today, but back tomorrow. I bet you all want a video.

Okay then.

Ciao tutti.

1/11/23 - a lazy afternoon.

 

So, it's Wednesday. The Prowse boys are getting together on Sunday. It sounds like there might be some silly songs selected for the 'shindig' (or jam).

Ah well, we'll see what happens.

It's good to see the sun out. I hope you enjoyed my short videos. 

Well, I'll leave it there*.

Ciao tutti.

* no need for thanks