Australia story...

As some friends have noticed, I have a healthy respect - even fondness - for Australians everywhere. This is mainly a result of my friendship with many Aussie countrymen and girls over the years, which started in our London flat in Ifield Road, and was eventually taken over by chaps regularly arriving at Heathrow from Sydney in the late 1960s.

Scrobs Inc was characteristically penniless back then, and not up to big spending (other than Thursdays at 'The Ifield Tavern', or the 'Scarsdale Tavern', where we could buy six pints for less than a pound), but it was the Aussie generosity of spirit, as well as beer that captured my way of life, and it is so easy to recall the good times, we always seemed to be laughing at something...

I can easily remember having hysterics all the way to a Finborough Arms after the first ever showing of 'Monty Python', with the awful 'Dinsdale Piranha' ringing in our ears. My friend on that day now heads up a huge Australian food company. Another man (Sod) from the same era, went back home and ran one of the biggest advertising companies with household names as clients, and all this news came from a simple need by Scrobs, to find out where everyone finished up, and poking around on the net!

It's not fair to mention names, but it didn't take long to get to a name via '123 People', and chuck in a few pointers as well. A single surname cropped up, and it was indeed the cousin (another Ifield Rd stayee) of very chap! He forwarded it to the others, and within a few days, the whole gang had reassembled! We also reached across to South Africa for the last member of the crew, and the circle was just about complete!

I couldn't have wished for a better result, but there are just a few other chaps to seek out before we have the whole class of 1971...

Come on Geoff, Warren, and Baby Bear, where are you...?

Amy and Karen RIP...

I'm a bit perturbed to learn that Amy Winehouse is dead.

Throughout today, for several periods of time, I've had this fabulous song going through my ol' grey head - like whistling and humming and the rest, including the drum bit before the choir gets going...

The guitar solo is probably the best ever recorded - without exception, and I play that regularly in the shed with a pair of shears, or a trowel or something. I was intending to post this tomorrow.

Sad all this; two hugely talented girls, lost in some awful entertainment fuelled morass.

A Rugby League Life...

Until now, I've never heard of the man. Rugby League was never my game, it was never even referred to round here, other than having a sneaking admiration for the likeable Eddie Waring, and we all chuckled at his manner of speech, as well as laughing at the 'I'm sorry, I haven't a clue' crowd, when they mimicked him...

If you have a few moments, just read this obit on Cec Thompson, and when you've finished, I hope you'll feel as enlightened and encouraged for the future of UK inc., as I have just been.

As long as there are people like Cec Thompson around, we can forget the miserable failures of the publicly-pursed self-servers which infest Britain; just for a few minutes.

Vera, Chuck and Dave...

Back in the 1960s, Scrobs was - as quite a few others were, an interested party to all the new songs and rhythms coming from the Beatles.

The first time 'Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' was played, it was Radio London - 'Big L' which put the whole album on air from start to finish, without interruptions! They were good like that.

That evening, I stayed working late in my office in Rye, doing some building drawing, and borrowed my good chum Ro's radio to hear these latest tracks.

Rosemary and I actually share the same birthday, today, and while she is two years younger than me, there are two more old friends who share the same date, Charlie (one year older), and Maura (one year younger)! We occasionally joined our respective birthday parties into one big celebration, and a good time was always had by all!

Back then, it didn't occur to me that track no 9 would ever be significant...

;0)

3D Scrobs...

The latest revelation to come out of Scrobs' shed, is this little number.

You'd never believe that a few bent nails, some old bits of wood, a margarine tub, three ft of sticky-backed-plastic, a grommett from a kid's bicycle, a few pictures from a holiday in Spain, and a cake candle, could make such an important machine!

Go for it everyone, it's the new way forward...

Shaun the Sheep delivers knock-out punch to Microsoft...

In front of all the geeks, nerds and EU diktats etc, Scrobs Inc has developed a foolproof method of disabling that irritating banner advert thing in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen, which infests every MS 'Starter Edition'.

He's Shaun the Sheep,
He's Shaun the Sheep.
He even mucks about
With those who cannot bleat.

He jumps at Gates,
He never waits,
He just gets up on his hind legs,
And alternates...

Dad's army - delayed yet again...

So I'm sitting here, waiting for - don't rush - a bloody football match to finish!

Yup, women's football is the BBC's answer to prime time viewing now.

At about a quid a throw, I'm getting fed up with this crap organisation, which have so many overpaid twats on board, they could be members of the house of commons.

Late arrivals at the 'News of the World' Shutting Down Party...

Mr and Mrs Stits, and their daughter Norma...

Er, that's it...

Drop the dead feck...

Father O'Blene (no relation) rose from his bed one morning. It was a fine spring day in his new Ballina parish.

He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside. He then noticed there was a donkey lying dead in the middle of his front lawn. Not knowing who else to call, he promptly called the local police station.

The conversation went like this:

"Good morning. This is Sergeant Flannagan. How might I help you?"

"And the best of the day to your good self. This is Father O'Blene at St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church. There is a donkey lying dead right in the middle of my front lawn."

Sergeant Flannagan, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a smirk, "Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people took care of the last rites!"

There was dead silence on the line for a long moment and then Father O'Blene replied:

"Ah, to be sure, that is true; but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin."