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. 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. I applied for tickets for the big global village school sports day next year, not for me of course, I'll be far too busy, but thought some family could benefit.
The tombola spun and out popped £46 from my sweating, anxious bank account to pay for tickets for something. Anyway, Lang may yer lum reek. 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. Logistics I expect, maybe the security team at the pearly gates imposed that figure because they were worried about queue times and unnecessary crushing, or is heaven nearly full? The other thing that bothered me, that's not to say only one other thing, but just another thing, was this reborn Christ. Pic'n'mix anybody? Yes please, can I pay with this kidney? Greekings Lums, It began as an evening much like many others. The best of intentions tested by the careless irresponsible suggestion of a pint in The Slug. I cant even remember who made it, it might even have been me, still, that's not important. I was only going for one of course, but as the village elders (+ one village idiot) gathered and once I had bought a round, I was never leaving until I had got them all back. Its only 30 paces between The Slug and the shelter of the tube station, but some of those 30 paces take you right past a pic,n,mix sweety stall set up to snare the drunken reckless and sugar craving kids that head out east to try and spear a big fat fish from one of the banks on a Friday night.
A great escape in any ones language, though tainted by the inner known fact that had I had £17 I probably would have stumped up with little more than a blow of the cheeks. When did sweeties get so expensive that they have a greater street value than some class A drugs? 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. "An undesired intrusion on the consciousness of the many" is certainly not a compliment, though, we have so many of those every day, especially this time of year with peoples growing need to drape their homes in garish, blinking Christmas lights and glowing Santa's. My favourite, maybe because its easily imagined, is " a catastrophic collision between two cranes". 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. These were en vogue through various times in the last hundred or so years and had quite a revival in the 70's and early 80's. Well, there are a few systems out there. Lang may yer lum reek. 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.
A good deal of those extra policeman have been drafted in from office jobs and old DIs from the Sweeney that have had to dust down their old miners strike riot gear and hope it fastens in the middle, still, good luck to them. What we have seen in the last few nights in London is a brief glimpse of the future.
Other news in my time away from the lum. Is that a ninja midget on your back? Home on GetGlue. Calum Halliday. The Standard for Influence. Blogadr - Free Blog Directory. The Everywhereist's Seattle Travel Blog | Selected Time Top Blogs of 2011 » The Everywhereist. Reekinglum (calwhisky) Latitude.