Reeking Lum. When vegetables attack. Lums about to Reek, I salute you, So, as deadly E-Coli sweeps the continent like a modern day brown death, what was responsible?
Was it Colonel Cucumber in the conservatory, or Baroness Beansprout up the backstairs? I don't know, but I do know one thing, never trust a tomato. Born a fruit but somehow managing to convince the vegetable community to accept it into the salad bowl. Not to play second fiddle to the old vegetable elders, potatoes and cabbage you understand, but to be culinarily embraced, with its plump but firm body and glossy red skin. It wasn't always so easy for Tomato. 1893 the year, Nix v Hedden the infamous adversaries. Yet somehow not quite getting into the whole vegetable thing completely. Does it have some sinister hidden agenda or did it only want to be a vegetable so it could be the most glamorous one.
Dartchery, you heard it here first. Campings unhappy campers. Hello all you lucky lums?
Well, if your reading this we've survived another week in a world that has a thousand and one ways to see us off. Its especially noteworthy as this is the week that was meant to bring the rapturous end of the world for all us sinners and unbelievers, or those that hadn't yet made a contribution to Harold Campings Viagra kitty. Now, I'm not really up to speed with the whole message he was peddling, but apparently Jesus was being born again, all the true believers, only a couple of hundred thousand it seems, would be risen to heaven and the rest of us would perish in horrible ways. Two hundred thousand is a bit mean, I don't know how they arrived at that figure. Pic'n'mix anybody? Yes please, can I pay with this kidney? Greekings Lums, It began as an evening much like many others.
Money, Money, Money and a banana. Happy Christmas. When cranes collide. Hello Lums, I walk past it every day, as I join the snaking multitudes trudging to the front line to do some paid work at the commercial coal face.
I've watched it sprout and grow, bit by bit over the past few months, dominating the skyline and local residents TV receptions as it goes. Its the ArcelorMittal Orbit Tower, springing up in the Olympic Park. Its been accused of fascist gigantism, and of being a monument to ego. The Times described it as "looking like a giant wire mesh fence has gotten hopelessly snagged around a french horn".
I'm guessing that's not a compliment, though you never know with the arty crowd. After months, its the Lums turns to Reek his observations. 100 years apparently since Captain Scott's ill fated Antarctic adventure, he's painted as both a hero and a blundering idiot, but you cant argue with the courage of those pioneers, especially when even 100 years ago, there were huge swathes of the globe still more or less a blank. Lang may yer Lum Reek. Billionaire pals and power cuts. Come The Revolution, only in 140 characters or less.
Change of government? Can I interest you in a Junta Sir? Reeking Lums, I've just watch the Remembrance Day memorial service from The Cenotaph, old soldiers always make me tearful and at 11 o'clock with Big Ben ringing out I wonder of the thoughts and memories that are flitting through their minds.
The Korea veterans marched past with a Dimbleby reference to The Battle of Imjin River and I thought of Uncle Mickey who passed away this year and who took part in it, swimming for his life across it with a million Chinese Red Army soldiers chasing at his back. They all, weather they are a name on a plaque or marching in thousands of services up and down the country, are totally deserving of our admiration and pride, and we should all remember how lucky we are to have them. Because sometimes, in some countries, the Military go bad. I'm talking of Military Juntas. Wiki-hell, a test of mind and body, yours that is if you start reading this. Restless Natives. Peace loving Lums of Planet Blog, we used to get as kids to deal with nuclear war with the Russians.
So, I've whitewashed the windows, stockpiled beans under the floorboards, taken all the doors off and stacked them in the cupboard and hid under them covered in factor 50 ICBM grade sunscreen. Actually tonight, I feel a bit foolish crouching in here, in the dark. It all seems quiet outside, no screaming sirens, no frantic searching helicopter overflights and no gangsta talk outside my window. Apparently there are four times the number of coppers on London streets tonight, keeping the cheeky little urchins at home with their mums. What we have seen in the last few nights in London is a brief glimpse of the future.
Mind you, don't believe any of them when they say its some kind of social reaction to hardships and disenchantment. Is that a ninja midget on your back? Home on GetGlue. Calum Halliday. The Standard for Influence. Blogadr - Free Blog Directory. Selected Time Top Blogs of 2011 » The Everywhereist. Reekinglum (calwhisky) Latitude.