The Immaculate Contraception

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

This is great stuff. You real couldn’t make it up. 17% off contraceptive pills and pregnancy tests. Seventeen percent!

It reminded me of a post in BoingBoing a couple of years ago about the “Imaculate Misconception” – a common misunderstanding about the parthogenic nature of some lizards.

That’s it

Welcome.

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.
Our local psychiatric hospital has been taking a bit of a beating recently. A member of staff went anonymously to the press to complain about what they considered to be rotten institutional policy in as far as violence management is concerned. I don’t expect they thought the thing through. Psychiatry is emerging from its dark ages, stigma is still one of the fundamental barriers to the demystification and treatment of some of the most horrific illnesses still haunting our sun-kissed countryside. People trying to deal with problems arising from psychiatric illness don’t need this kind of nonsense. Anyone who has had to convince a mentally ill friend or relative to seek treatment knows what I’m rabbiting on about. You have to wonder about what personal issues drive a mental health professional to bring the business into disrepute. Whistleblowing culture smells. I was up at the hospital today. Motivated, innovative people are feeling even more uncomfortable than usual because of all this nonsense. Psychiatry is difficult enough without all the wee vanity issues that appear to be whirling round this particularly ugly little episode. My, we have come a long way…

Ferrari Shop. One for the Price of Twenty

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

With several races still to go, his year’s FI constructors championship was won in the courts. Well actually in a strange kind of hearing with what Tony Blair might have called “legalness”. The sport seems to have been plunged into a credibility crisis, characterised by lots and lots of ad hominem argumentation. It reminds me of wrestling on a Saturday afternoon on World of Sport on ITV when I was just a wee garçon. My Gran was a pundit. The rules were a sort of universal natural justice system, the whole thing was to be enjoyed in black and white, mostly good guy versus bad guy stuff. The F1 arguments seem to be so polarised over what seems to be someone wanting clarification over a practice that seems to have been part of high level motorsport competition for donkey’s years – copying each others cars. I was really lucky and got to see the Italian GP this year in Monza. It cost a fortune. I really enjoyed it, I love F1 grand prix racing, and bore lots of people to death going at length about it (maybe you too, dear reader).
Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that I’m a bit disappointed by all this nonsense. Did anyone see the documentary on BBC last night about Factory Records? Wasn’t Anthony Wilson such a complete bumcracker?

The Victor-Ruffy Roadworks-Themed Botanical Garden

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

Cheeky wee maths question;

If one hundred and fifty men changing sewage and water supplies can choke the traffic on the three main arteries into a town for four months, how long can a team of five or six men in miniature diggers and really weird hats hold the same town in the same stranglehold? And the answer is…..

friggin’ years! I can’t believe how long it’s taken, how few people are ever visible doing the job, and the cherry on the cake, the magnificent coordination job somebody did in getting the other two main routes dug up at the same time.

I’d like to thank you, whoever you are, oh king of coordination, from the bottom of my gas struts and exhaust mounts.

Banish Photographers From Schools

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

I had a week off work. (the technical term is “a wee cough”) I spent the week going back and forward to the school to drop off the kids, pick up the kids, drop them back off again, give them lollies and chocolate for lunch. Watch daytime TV (crikey) I managed to recognise some of Pook’s pals from this very labour-intensive but low budget school photo he came home with.

I’m fighting to keep my blog off the crash barriers. My enlightened friend CP told me I wouldn’t last. How can I have writers block? I’d have to be a writer. Anyway, this has to be a bad sign, writing in a blog about writing in a blog.

Mr Nervous Before His First Radio Show

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

Lucky me. I was offered a chance to use my transferable shoe-gazing skills on Couleur 3, the groovy Swiss radio station. My proficient DJ/broadcasting pal Alex is currently growing grey hairs wondering what this shambolic collaboration is going to do to his listening figures. I think he wants someone who doesn’t sound too professional, but knows what they’re talking about. That’s something I can definitely do, especially the not too professional part. We try and feature an artist, producer, or personality to showcase every week. The show ( “La Résidence” on Saturday nights at 10) features an eclectic mix of tunes, but with a predominant dance theme. Broadcasting generates a lot more adrenalin than I could ever have imagined. Wehey! If listening to recent dance music introduced by a Scotsman mumbling in french is your thang, come on down…

I’ve read some incredible books, and enjoyed them. I’ve been to the theatre, enjoyed mind blowing plays. I’ve seen some amazing films, become bleary eyed at the opera. I’ve seen the northern lights from my bicycle. I’ve seen the mist roll from a mountain early on a cold Scottish morning. I’ve held back tears listening to an orchestra playing Holst. I enjoy good food, I have a discerning taste in friends, and know how to develop a conversation. This is only the clean stuff. In short, I believe I am a fairly well evolved, balanced individual.
How is then that when I notice that the word “Subaru” is “Urabus” backwards, that I take a photo of this word, go home, spend half an hour footering with the picture until it does indeed say “Urabus”, and then spend five minutes laughing at my oeuvre? As vic Reeves used to say, “I’m simple I am, but happy”

I wonder if Migros will copyright the tack. Denner isn’t just Migros’ evil twin, the red interior, aged floor tiles, the absurd, unfathomable crowd control device at the door, a hellish chrome and red plastic barrier that prevents anyone with children coming inside (not that that’s a problem, because the big market share items are made for consenting, sinning big people; a wall of cigarettes, booze, cigars, potato crisps with some of the most long chain trans-saturated fats known to man. A whisky called “Bag Piper” which lists its ingredients as “alcohol, flavourings”) When you queue, reflecting on the obsolete “don’t steal” signs, you can’t help wondering if your complexion looks as bad as your co-shoppers, reflected in the strange red omnipresent hue, made to resonate with the broken facial veins associated with industrial alcohol consumption or impending cardiac implosion.

Apart from all that, great shop…

Now Michael Schumacher Does His Shopping in Hornbach, Who’s Going to be the Most Mental?

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

Friday, best day of the week (in a poll conducted informally at work yesterday) is the day when the longest-coffee-break-of-the-week-by-at-least-30-minutes takes place. The discussion is generally buoyed by the fact that the whistle will soon blow, announcing the beginning of the feek-end. Yesterday was no exception. The arrival of spring improved the joviality content by up to 8%. “What are you doing this weekend?” All manner of wholly respectable activities are brandished around the table, walks in the mountains, cycle trips, carnivals, all that good wholesome stuff. This is what I said; “I’m getting up at three in the morning to watch the formula 1 on television – it’s live from Australia” The reaction surprised me. You’d have thought I’d said “I’m going to slaughter my son’s pet rabbit in a voodoo stylee and fry it in trans unsaturated fat” People don’t like formula 1. They’re not even indifferent to it, they don’t like it one little bit, and they are suspicious of people who do. I don’t care (I do a wee bit) One of my colleagues spotted the small, but perfectly formed ex racing driver Michael Schumacher DIY shopping in Etoy recently. That means he’s lost it completely. Other drivers may now win races. I can’t wait to watch the GP tonight. I shall phone my brother at the beginning of the race, and we will speak our special West Highland code to each other on the empty nighttime phone lines until somebody wins the race, and David Coulthard inevitably complains that it wasn’t his fault that it wasn’t him (sort of a fat lady singing equivalent).

Patty the Fish 2001-2007

Originally uploaded by Dame Margot Fonteyn.

Patty died during the night. Wee Jess is having a hard time (unlike her gore-fan brother, the Pook – with a big smile – “does that mean she’s a skeleton?”) we’ve been reminiscing, telling old fish stories. There’ll be a brief ceremony later, friends & family, followed by a fondue, hopefully on the balcony, in the sun. We’re lucky not to have woken up to dead Patty the Fish yesterday morning, Groundhog Day. That would have been hellish.