Wednesday, 31 March 2010

The great philosopher.

Through the history of man kind there have been many great philosophers. Aristotle, Plato and Socrates to name a few. For-sure these were great men with dare i say great minds, but what of today? who are the great minds of the modern age. If you ask Mrs Dobbo, I'm sure she will say Professor Brian Cox with his huge smile and big brained ways showing us through the solar system in that annoyingly simple and entertaining way. She would almost certainty point out he used to be a pop-star to.

Although i usual avoid disagreeing with Mrs D, for this is a perilous venture at the best of times, today i must. I have spent the last few years in the study of western philosophy searching relentlessly for the great minds, the great thinkers and ultimately the one great mind of the modern age. Today my search is over, today i know, today the one great mind has been reviled to me.

The greatest mind of our modern ages is undoubtedly the legend known as Homer J Simpson. Born at some point, Homer has time and time again enlighten mankind with such pearls of wisdom as "just because i don't care, doesn't mean i don't understand" and  "Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try."

Of course, to the unenlightened the philosophy's of Homer J can seem like nothing short of gibberish. Has this not been the case time and time again with the great men of history. Look what they did to William Tyndale, although he was not a philosopher. He did however live in a village called North Nibley, they built a monument for him in 1863. Years latter we would climb the 111ft tower and take vast amounts of LSD. I've always had a soft spot for good old William T.

Anyway, i digress. I'm not here to convince you of Homer J's greatness, simply to point out the obvious. Just take a little time to consider some of the wonderful thoughts this genius has given us.
"Lisa, if the Bible has taught us nothing else, and it hasn't, it's that girls should stick to girls sports, such as hot oil wrestling and foxy boxing and such and such."
"Old people don't need companionship. They need to be isolated and studied so it can be determined what nutrients they have that might be extracted for our personal use."
"I've always wondered if there was a god. And now I know there is -- and it's me."

Greatness is often measured by stuff and and sometimes backed up by things. With that thought i'll leave you with one more from Mr Homer J Simpson, "Doughnuts. Is there anything they can't do?"           

Monday, 29 March 2010


So I'm probably  one of the first to admit the chances of our old green P reg 125,000 mile Escort going through its MOT without a hitch might be a tad unreasonable, but as always, i live in hope.

Today my hope was well and truly extinguished by the MOT tester from hell. I'm not sure how the humble Ford Escort had wronged this man in the past, but wronged him it most certainty had, possible in a sexual manner. The gusto MOT hell man put in  to the test was second to none, I'm confident  Alexander the great would have proudly had this man on side. Once he hoved in to view the poor little Escort had no chance. His attack started fast and low with a crowbar to each front wishbone, at one point the idea that he might flip her clean over entered my mind, then came the hammer. I once knew a chap known by the legend, "give him a hammer and he can do anything", he had fuckall on MOT hell man.

Quietly sat in a far corner of the garage (by this time praying) i listened as he pounded my poor old Escort to within an inch of her life. What Bruce Lee was to the nunchaku, this bastard was to a hammer. As much as i hated what he was doing to my car, i couldn't help admiring him just a little. I imagined the news would be bad as MOT hell man made his way back towards the office clutching a bundle of paper work. How could this trustful little work horse of a car survive another year? would i witness a miracle, a marvel of the power and love built in to every one of those rust ridden Daganam dustbins.

Would i fuck, the fails "sheets" (yes there was more then one) told a tail of woe, pure fucking woe. In a last ditch attempt to save the old duck i asked for a quote to do the work needed. I'm great full to MOT hell man that he had at least enough compassion to resist the temptation to laugh in my face. He simply smiled and told me he would call latter, and call he did. Initial quotes were not good, £400 minimal on a car built in 1996. Yet i still held on to a faint flicker of hope, and fuck me it paid off. I cut the quote in half at another garage and tomorrow my little old green Escort will be going under the spanner. Of course I'll still need to take it back to MOT hell man for the thumbs up, but maybe, just maybe the green pellet will live to fight another day.        

Sunday, 28 March 2010

Loving the countryside

Growing up in the Cotswolds left me a country boy at heart no matter where I moved over the years, although in truth I moved very little. The final resting place for my hat has been up to now Bournemouth, and I really do love the place, but it's not the countryside. As I write this blog I find myself at my wonderful mother in laws home in Wiltshire. Before I go on I guess I should underline the fact that I am not being sarcastic when I call my mother inlaw wonderful, she really is a good old stick. Anyho, back to my country side point. There seems to be something about the whole out of everybodys way thing that sits nicely with me. It's not that I don't like being around other people, I mostly think they are ok. I think it's just I like to sit on my own from time to time and the countryside fits that quite well. So here I am, sat in a garden that rolls out in to an open field with hardly any other houses about. Quiet, peacefull and relaxed. Good enough.

Posted from Blogium for iPhone

Lazy Sundays

A morning sat in front of the Tv with Jack watching F1 has done the trick and set me up ( I hope ) for a relaxing afternoon. Ofcourse this could change in a split second and my little world could turn tits up. On the other hand it might not. Truth is I really haven't that much to say at the moment, I'm just testing out an app on my iPhone to see how it blogs. Up to now it seems ok. Maybe I'll tag a random photo on the blog aswell to see if it works.

Posted from Blogium for iPhone

Friday, 26 March 2010

Don't miss the obvious.

Seems to me that the negative things in the world are in our faces so much we can often miss the obvious. I got home today after a long week and prepared to pop my feet up and chill. As is normally the case i watched the Simpson's to aid my intellectual development, no problems there. Then came the news, this is more the wife's thing but sometimes i stick around in the vague hope I'll hear something new. I didn't. What i did heard however, was another daily round up of all the shit that's been happening in the world of late, joy. Now i know what your thinking, your thinking Dobbo, if you don't like it, turn it off. That my dear friend would indeed be a perilous thing to do when Mrs D is catching up on current affairs. Truth is i simply went outside and smoked a cigarette, some thing I'm about to stop doing yet again. I'd hit the evil weed on the head a few months ago but decided just one would do no harm and of i went again. Over Seven years in recovery from Drugs and Alcohol, just one of anything for me is a practical guarantee I'll keep going. Any ho, been on the old Champix and my stop day is tomorrow so I'll have another go. So back to my ramble about the shit on the news and not missing the obvious. The news, like my cigarette came and went. Michelle got Jack ready for bed and he had his night time milk. Then the three of us sat on the sofa in his room and read a story, and a great story it was. Now Jack has gone to bed and I'm relaxing for the night. A long week rolls to a wonderful end by simply sitting with my wife and son reading Hansel and Gretel. Obvious eh?        

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

Chocolate cornflake birds nest

Once in a great while i come across the sort of day i can only describe as a fucker, today was one of them. It was long man, long and at times hard going. Why? you may ask, well the truth is i don't believe it really matters, what matters is it came along and will again.
So, how do i deal with these days when they come? I'm not all together sure really, i just do. Pretty much like the rest of the word, of at least some of it. Or at least a little bit of it. I put one foot in front of the other and trudge. Sometimes i trudge slowly and sometimes i trudge slightly faster then slowly, never quickly. I have for a long time be a firm believer in the ambling along at a steady pace philosophy, it seems to work.
I remember just before i left rehab being asked what i wanted to do for a living, my response was to simply have a brush and sweep, slowly sweep. Brings to mind Triggers Broom, 17 new heads and 14 new handles.
So i finally make it home, home is a good place for me to be. It seems when I'm home there seems to be a lot less knob headism around. Turns out the wife has been making chocolate cornflake birds nests with the boy, his very first attempt at making any sort of food with mum. How amazing is that?
So now i'm sat in the comfort of my lovely reclined leather chair with a belly full of chocolate cornflake birds nest blogging. No matter what kind of day i have, no matter how long it gets and no matter how many knob heads i come across, one thing still stands true.... even if it takes a while, it always gets better.      

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

Do i worry too much?

Seems to me that from time to time i might just worry a little more then is healthy. Our two year old Jack (that's him on the left) is a great one for setting this off. I remember making a grab for a chip his Mum was giving him in Burger King once because it looked a little on the pointy side!! God forbid he get on a chair or go down a slide. Thankfully his Mum is a bit more willing to let the little fellow live life a bit and enjoy himself on the way.
My latest worry kicked into action about a week ago. The wife had Tweeted a photo of Jack laying out his blocks in a nice, neat straight line. She asked if anyone else thought he had an OCD and was answered back with "no but he might be autistic"
My keen and intellectual mind cut in and within moments i found myself on wiki, fast becoming an expert with the conclusion poor little Jack was doomed.
As it turned out i ended up phoning a friend who knows about this stuff, in fact its her Job. Don't worry Al she said, a lot of parents go on the Internet and self diagnose. I felt like a knob, again. A week latter my friend came round and after playing with jack for an hour told me he seems fine.
My point is this, i worry about things i care about. If that's the price i pay for caring then so what. For years and years i cared about nothing else but myself so to worry a little now is cool.
As it happens, tonight i'm not worried about anything, i hope that doesn't mean i don't care anymore.