A Tale of Family Bravery

I'm in Ipswich this weekend for a wedding. I've been having a look at some old photos, and I found one of Little Zoe when she was younger. Regular readers of Smells Like White Spirit will be familiar with Little Zoe, my cousin, who did so well as guest editor when I was on holiday earlier this month.

What you won't be aware of is her bravery. Bravery that she is herself far too modest to tell. Because, dear reader, Little Zoe is called 'Little Zoe' for a reason. On account of the fact that she was born with no legs. Instead, she was born with frog-like flippers.

Her parents did their best to camouflage her unique condition, as this photo shows:


















Fortunately for her (but unfortunately for the UK Olympic swimming team), as she reached maturity, the flippers grew into proper legs and she is now more or less 'normal'. Although I haven't seen her in the much-hyped shorts, so there may still be tinges of green.

I just want to say "Little Zoe (or 'Frogger' as she is affectionately known within the family), you are an inspiration to us all.

From one extreme to another

So after a day of spectacular beauty, I then went to the other extreme and went to visit my friend Carrie in Camborne. I am of course referring to Camborne as being 'the other extreme', and not Carrie...

Camborne is a funny little place. It's deep in the heart of darkest Cornwall, and is one of Cornwall's many mining towns. World-renowned, according to their website. For what, I have no idea. Perhaps as being the punchline of a Jethro joke... But, well, Cornwall is lucky to have some of the most beautiful locations in the world. Let's just say that Camborne isn't one of them.

But I wasn't there to sight-see (luckily). I was there to PAAAAARTY! And so it was that Carrie, her friend Sarah and I decided to hit the town and moonwalk down to the Corn Exchange, which is Camborne's probably world-famous nightclub to strut our funky stuff and show those Camborne divas how it's done. And oh, did we do that.

The Camborne Siamese Twins strut their stuff








It was two quid for a double. Two quid! In a nightclub! That's my type of establishment. You can buy a round and still have change from a tenner. Amazing. Well, needless to say, with alcohol that freely available, things did get a little messy. Not only did I end up poledancing, I actually took it upon myself to convince other men to poledance too. And enough respect to the Camborne Crew, I didn't get my head stoved in; I actually managed to convince one or two do it.

If you look really carefully, you can just see the strings.







So all in all, it was one of the best nights I've had out in a long while. Yes, I had a monster hangover the next day, but damn it was worth it.

Hidden Beauty...

I found one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, no more than 15 minutes away from my house. It really is remarkable to think that this place was here all along and I never even knew. I've only lived down here for 5 years.

Picture taken from Burrator dam.









It's called Burrator Reservoir, and is simply stunning. I got out of the car and thought I was in Canada or Scotland. I actually half-expected to see a bear or wolf walking past. Remarkable to think that this is actually man-made.

It's at moments like this I really know why I live here. After years of living in cities around Europe, I never fail to be amazed at the fact that I only have to drive 10 minutes in pretty much any direction to see such stunning beauty, you know you are alive.

We walked over the dam, which is beautiful in itself. The whole dam is covered with granite, so although it's man-made, it doesn't look out of place. We found a woodland just over the dam:

Picture taken from the woodland, next to Burrator dam.






It was like walking through my childhood. I'd forgotten how a wood smells in the autumn... Picking chestnuts, beech nuts, hazelnuts... Remember puffballs? Those round mushroom things that puff a type of smoke out when you stand on them... It has probably been 15 years since I was last in a wood. I love the vibe of living in a city; but it's only when you get back to where you are from that you really feel alive.

So I now have a new mission. I'm going to go out and find what this beautiful part of the world has hidden away. If anyone wants to join me, you're more than welcome.

How do you Solve a Problem Like Korea?

Kim Jung Il? I never saw the first one. Looks like the afro'd crackpot leader of North Korea may be even more of a loon than first thought. For the platform-shoe wearing nutter, whose hobbies include huntin', shootin' and fission, might be telling porky pies about what he got up to on his school holidays.

After proudly announcing to a nervous world that they had successfully tested a nuclear weapon, it was announced today that this might not be the case after all. Why? Because apparently there is simply no trace of any radioactivity in the area. In addition, the seismic shock of the supposed test was much smaller than is usually the case with a nuclear explosion.

There are of course a number of possible explanations for this:

1) There was in fact no nuclear test. It was all just a major bluff on the part of North Korea to ensure America doesn't invade. USA! USA! USA! had no problem invading Iraq for having suspected nuclear weapons, because they knew that Saddam didn't actually have any nuclear weapons. I can pretty much guarantee that if Saddam DID actually have nuclear weapons, there would have been no invasion. Because he would have a nuclear weapon. It's simple playground politics. You don't pick on someone that can actually defend themselves, cos you might get hurt.

2) There was in fact no nuclear test. It was all just a major bluff on the part of North Korea to get the world to give them cash in order to stop their supposed nuclear program. The North Korean economy is in a pretty bad way. The last time North Korea was supposed to be embarking on a course of nuclear testing, all sorts of things were tried. Sanctions didn't work because basically the government does not give a shit about its people. Hundreds of thousands died from starvation and nothing changed. In the end, the Korean government were effectively bribed to stop testing, and this certainly worked up until recently when a certain George W Bush decided to stop that. As soon as the cash stopped, the 'testing' started again. I would certainly not put it past the Korean administration to effectively put a gun up against the head of the world for cash. Just as I wouldn't put it past the Chimp President to stop the cash in order to go after Korea.

3) There was a test, but it was so far underground that the seismic reading was muffled. However, that still doesn't explain why there is no radioactivity showing up in the area.

4) The Koreans have been sold something they believe to be plutonium, which is in fact no more than vim mixed with aspirin, a bottle of diet coke and some mentos to make it look real.

Either way, it makes the situation a little more complex than first thought... Not least because Kim Jung Il may well be playing an extremely dangerous game of bluff with an equally psychotic and trigger-happy adversary. If there is in fact some doubt as whether North Korea actually does have a nuclear capability, will Dubya decide to go in after all? I wouldn't put it past him. He went into Iraq for a lot less.

With two of the world's true looneys at loggerheads with each other, I dread to think what will happen. I suspect that Dubya will not go into Korea, if only because of the bloody nose he has got in Iraq. Because Korea might not have nuclear weapons, but they've got a hell of a lot of normal ones.

An Italian Awakening...

Just made the first set of transfers for my fantasy football team, Obi-Wan Kenobi Nil. I am disappointed thus far with my very Ipswich-like mid-table placement after I had such high hopes. It would appear the Force is not with me after all.

Nonetheless, this gives me an opportunity to ditch the deadwood and replace it with some young and hungry new blood. So I decided to do away with Lauren from the Arse, who has for some unknown reason not played this season. I've replaced him with Venus Williams from Portsmouth. Sorry, 'sensitive' Sol Campbell, I mean. I always get those two mixed up.

My dark horse in Stalteri of Tottenham turned out to be so dark, no one can find him. So he's gone, and in his place the mighty Swede, (my favourite person called Olof) Mellberg from the surprise package of the season, Aston Villa. Really goes to show that perhaps Martin O'Neill should have got the England gig, rather than second-choice, nobody's-favourite-but-the-only-one-the-FA-could-agree-on-at-least-he's-English Elvis impersonator, Steve 'Hotpants' McLaren.

So those two were easy, because simply they haven't scored any points at all and they haven't even played. So it left just one more choice to make, and I had a choice of three to drop:

1) Everyone's favourite cockney Lee 'gor blimey guvnor, strike a paki' Bowyer;
2) Neckless weirdo and sheep molester Craig 'Bell-end' Bellamy; or
3) Meeelan legend, Andriy Shevchenko.















Now, after many lengthy debates with my (Arse-supporting) nephews about Sheva being the best striker in the world, much better than Henry who has a tendency to disappear in big games, I am pretty much flummoxed at Sheva's indifferent form for Chelsea. I really did think he would bang in the goals. I know it takes time to settle... I know Chelsea do not play the same attacking style as the Rossoneri... But Drogba's banging them in for fun, and Sheva is playing with all the finesse of a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest.

But I still believe that Sheva is one of the best strikers in the world, and, as Wayne 'Help the Aged' Rooney will testify, form is temporary, class is permanent. So I've decided to stick with him for the time being and have dropped the neckless wonder, Bellamy from my team. If only because he used to play for Norwich. In his place, I've chosen Andy Johnson from Everton.

Although I'm not a great fan of Chelsea, I really do hope that Sheva does get his act together. He's always been a model professional, a Milan legend and to be honest, he's always come across as just one of football's nicest and most humble people. A class act in every sense. I just hope for my sake that his drop in form is just a short-term blip. I do suspect, though, that he never really wanted to leave Milan and that the decision was taken by his American wife.

Oh, and why is the post called an Italian Awakening? Whilst looking up an Italian word, I came across this definition on google - apparently an Italian Awakening is the act of waking someone from a deep sleep by slapping your dick on their forehead*. When Shit Sandwich comes to stay in November, I shall be sleeping with a headband.

*This is not to be confused with a schapappy, which is the act of smacking one's dick across another's face.

The Silent Library Game

I would LOVE to play this game...

Japanese Sauna Pranks

As ever, the Japanese really know how to do things to extremes... Keep watching, the end is the best!

Free Hugs

I don't know why, I just found this very moving.

A refreshing run in the Forest...

Many thanks to Carrie for this one! But this is simply great.

More adverts...

Who brought the cat?

Now that's what I call NHS Direct...

Family Fortunes

Went to my cousin Graham's wedding this weekend in Bath, and what a great day it was. It was my dad's side of the family and some of the people there I haven't seen in perhaps 6 years or so. Like all weddings, there was some very dodgy disco dancing going on. None more so than Uncle Malcolm with my sister Zoe...



But was really good to catch up with the family again. We used to meet up every boxing day, but it's been many, many years since we've done that. So it tends to be weddings or funerals when we all get together.

And the wedding itself was great. And I couldn't help but wonder if I'll ever have one of those. I'd like to think I will. But who knows what the future holds? But hopefully it won't be another 6 years before we all meet up again.

What a Burqa!

Heard a lot of talk this weekend about Jack Straw's comments on Muslim women removing the veil... I have to say, I think he is way out of line. Did Commisioner Gordon ever ask Batman to take his mask off when visiting his office? Of course he didn't. Or did Big Daddy ever make Kendo Nagasaki take off his mask? I can't help but agree with the Muslims who think it's one rule for the West and one rule for them.

Greece is the Word

Taken from the balcony of a local restaurant in Tsilivi on my new camera phone





I had the best time on holiday as Zakynthos turned out to be OK. My hotel was in Tsilivi, which is on the north of the island, and it is definitely an English resort. But there were some excellent local tavernas, and the seafood was great. Only once was I tempted by the egg and chips brigade.

The weather was fantastic, the people were friendly and it really was exactly what I needed. It took me about two days to properly wind down, to get used to the fact that I had nothing to do! But by day three I got into the groove.

It ain't a holiday without a hat









Although I am very, very glad I went now and not in the Summer. Partly because it would have been about 45 degrees. And partly because I imagine Zakynthos to be a bit on the 18-30 side. And if I want to catch crabs on the beach, I'll go to Brixham.

The ruin of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, birthplace of the Olympics.






Went to Olympia as well, which was rather cool. It's one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, so that's two I've seen now (the other being the pyramids at Giza). I think I'd like to see the other five now. One of those 'things to do before I die' things, I think.

And, just like last year when I went to Ibiza, I had some rather great revelations, although I won't go into them here. But it's amazing what you learn about yourself when you take a bit of time to quieten your mind.

Erm, no thanks...

And it's hello from me!

Oh yes, I'm back, with a bit more colour than before (or, considering I was blue when I went, perhaps a bit less) and feeling refreshed and raring to go. And may I join Captain Alliteration in saying a mighty thank you to the literally laugh out loud Little Zoe. So good, I may have to start calling her 'Medium-Sized Zoe' to befit her increasing gravitas. Which I think she'd prefer to the perhaps not so flattering but infinitely more amusing monicker of 'the purple pissing princess'. Or perhaps, more enigmatically, I might occasionally refer to her as 'Violet'. For that I have to say many, many thanks to the one in a million Aunty Helly. And you're right about the photos. Not only do I have photos of me in Rocky Horror gear, they're on my website. (About 2/3 of the way down, just after the pics of me as a witch).

I have a million and one things to do, not least check my bank balance to see what damage was done (oops!) and then I shall resume where I left off. I suspect some photos may be in order. Don't worry, no naked ones, before you all start running. Oh, and now that Little Zoe has gone, I can change the web title again. I know that would have been like water torture for her.

Well, it's goodnight from me...

The period of my guest hosting now draws to a close and with a sigh of relief, shared, I'm sure, by most of you, I hand the blog back to its rightful owner, the much-funnier Chez Guevara. Long may his witty insights and bizarre photographs of animals in fancy dress continue.

You've been a great audience, guys. Thanks for the warm welcome, and have a safe journey home. I've got some CDs on sale in the foyer.

This is Little Zoe. Over and out.

Faintly Artistic

As I walked past the selection of newspapers in the ante room at work today, I noticed the following headline in the Sun:

Lunatic Gets Into Number 10

Closer inspection revealed, to my relief, that Gordon Brown was not in fact announcing his early election as Labour Party leader.

Insert witty title here

This week, as I'm sure you're all aware, the papers have been awash with harrowing tales of the harsh realities behind recent events. We've all seen the photos, and I'm sure we've all felt the same sense of horror.

I'm talking, of course, about the parsnip declared England's ugliest vegetable in the recent nationwide contest conducted by the National Trust. Apparently, the whole shebang was designed to emphasise the unimportance of appearances. As one spokesperson puts, "This competition was designed to show that we shouldn't judge a vegetable on its looks and we should challenge the image of the cosmetically perfect and well-formed vegetables found in many of our supermarkets." I kid you not.

Personally, I think the whole thing was a fix anyway. Everyone knows England's ugliest vegetable is the Rt Hon John Reid.