Monday, 16 August 2010
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Playgirls
Feast your eyes on this. It's one of the best things I have seen and heard in ages.
Step away Charlie's Angels....the Playgirls are here and they are gonna kick some puny male ass! I love it!
Step away Charlie's Angels....the Playgirls are here and they are gonna kick some puny male ass! I love it!
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Cosmic
Tonight if we look to the skies we can see a beautiful meteor shower. Which makes me want to post the following clips...
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
The sounds of childhood
Some sounds are typical:
the tinny mechanical rendition of Greensleeves from a distant ice-cream van. (I can almost feel the sticky penny in my hot little hand as I think about sitting on the edge of the kerb waiting for the van to arrive)
Raindrops tumbling heavily onto a windowsill
The school bell
Winds rippling through trees
The silence white world of snow
More specific to my world:
Sunday League football. Our garden bordered onto a 26 acre plot of land with football pitches, cricket pavilion and wooded dell. On Sunday mornings I rose to the sound of footballs being booted and men shouting.
Arguments
Grandma sweeping the garden path
My dad counting money when he was an insurance man
The rumble of a train line
Myself. Singing.
The sound of late night television programmes leaking up from the living room to my bedroom. I once lay on the landing and cried when my babysitter wouldn't let me watch The Sweeney.
Tales of the Unexpected elicited a similar response.
This tune always made me feel like crying...
Schools and colleges programmes are much cooler now than they were at the time.
the tinny mechanical rendition of Greensleeves from a distant ice-cream van. (I can almost feel the sticky penny in my hot little hand as I think about sitting on the edge of the kerb waiting for the van to arrive)
Raindrops tumbling heavily onto a windowsill
The school bell
Winds rippling through trees
The silence white world of snow
More specific to my world:
Sunday League football. Our garden bordered onto a 26 acre plot of land with football pitches, cricket pavilion and wooded dell. On Sunday mornings I rose to the sound of footballs being booted and men shouting.
Arguments
Grandma sweeping the garden path
My dad counting money when he was an insurance man
The rumble of a train line
Myself. Singing.
The sound of late night television programmes leaking up from the living room to my bedroom. I once lay on the landing and cried when my babysitter wouldn't let me watch The Sweeney.
Tales of the Unexpected elicited a similar response.
This tune always made me feel like crying...
Schools and colleges programmes are much cooler now than they were at the time.
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