Murray Lachlan Young's obit to Maggie poem.

Murray wrote the following for his BBC Radio 6 slot but the powers that beeb chose to spike it:

Maggie: Obit poem.   Murray Lachlan Young   12/04/013

Farewell to you Maggie Oh Maggie farewell

Some eulogise you, some give you hell

Repeating the phrases that caused notoriety

Stating there is no such thing as society

Friend to the bank, brutally frank

Reagan’s big pal, rode in a tank

You mobilized classes with social volte-faces

You mangled the unions, kicked euro arses

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie!

You parleyed with Pinochet, gifted the satirist.

Nelson Mandela, you branded a terrorist

Flogged council houses, sold the utilities

Founded new Labour in all probability

One usually lost if one stood up and fought yer

You hammered your colleagues like lambs to the slaughter

Stated the falklands were ‘ours’ in totality

Turned the big bang to a fiscal reality

Littered the city with monstrous earning

The lady you stated was never for turning

Your standing its seems in the final prognosis

Reviled and admired in similar doses

Some will remember the chill in your air

Some will remember your teeth and your hair

But most that you gave and you asked for no quarter

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie

Over and out

But not bad for a greengrocers daughter

Thatcher to be buried in 'Green' reed coffin!

The family of recently deceased 83 year old thatcher Herbert 'Bunny' Peachey of Swaffam  have anounced that he will be buried in a coffin of his own making.

The coffin, entirely manufactured from the materials of his trade, is green and more importantly very very cheap. Says his son Margaret.

Neighbours of the never popular thatcher are not happy however at the councils decision to pay for the funeral as his family are refusing to do so. "Throw im inter fen'. Is the option favoured.

Bunny Peachy will long be remembered as the man who stole milk from children and set fire to the local school.

Herbert Peachey, thatcher.

The worst meal I have ever eaten... The Dovey Inn, Aberdovey.

A few days spent in West Wales this week was only marred by the most awful meal I have ever  eaten.

The Dovey Inn in Aberdovey managed to produce a plate of inedible awfulness which can only be explained by a complete lack of concern for their customers. I guess they assume that their customer base is transient and unlikely to revisit. They seem to employ half wits and children in the bar and kitchen who cannot take an order properly, cannot pass on an order and certainly cannot cook anything resembling an appetising meal. Absolute shit!

I'd post a picture of the place but really can't be bothered.

The place is owned and run by S.A. Brain & co. A Cardiff based Brewery. They ought to put a great deal more effort into their management.

Avoid at all costs.

The previous day We had fish and chips at PD's Diner on the seafront in Aberystwyth which was great! The entire staff of the Dovey Inn should visit PD's in order to learn how to do it!

PD's Diner. Aberystwyth.

Photo's: Jan Nieupjur.

A picture of the sea.

More Harps.

Bristol Colston Hall above and The Royal Festival Hall below.

Nothing rhymes with death. Marjorie Hazell RIP.

Nothing rhymes with death and nothing makes any sense.



For Honey.  31.3.2013

Squirrel eats fox.

Curious!

We had a foxes skull on the window ledge outside the kitchen. I would often find the skull on the ground and assumed that the wind had moved it until one day last week I saw a squirrel sitting on the decking gnawing at the skull clenched in its paws. The following day I witnessed the little bugger trying to carry the skull off... I got it back and returned it to the window ledge.

Yesterday the squirrel got the skull as far as the top of the garden fence before I intervened.

Today the skull has gone. I presume it is up in a dray being gnawed at by a family of sniggering squirrels.

Gayageum version of Voodoo Chile by Luna.

I


I like this! I shall be talking to the muse about a harp interpretation.

Harp in Leicester

Harp in Bedford.

Cannabis scratch and sniff cards. Or should that be scraff and snitch!

                             

Hilarious!

I read today in the Guardian that the charity 'Crimestoppers' is to circulate cannabis scented scratch and sniff cards in order to help the public identify pot farms for the police. Full article HERE

Phineus T, Fat Freddy and Freewheelin Franklin must be laughing their heads off at this, not to mention Fat Freddy's cat who likes nothing more than a snaff and scritch.

Potheads around the country will be eyeing little old ladies (handbags stuffed with the cards) with a new sense of amazement.

And a new term is coined: the scraff and snitch card!

Notting Hill to have 'Literary Festival'.

According to an article in the standard Notting hill is about to have its own literary festival over the weekend of the 10th - 12th of april.

My inner cynic is screaming at me that it will probably consist of estate agents reading from their brochures, yummy mummies reading from menus and bankers bigging up their bonus reports.

The organiser is literary agent Laetitia rutherford so my inner cynic may be slightly off the mark.

We'll see.

Baby Pigeons.

It is often said that you never see baby pigeons in London.

This is what they look like!

The Notting Hill Promise.