Tag Archives: for once a post with a sexy title that’s not about sex

The White Stuff

The white stuff.

Bet your thinking “another post about clone sex/auto-fellatio/great arcing ropes of jism/etc” aren’t you?

Ah, memories!

Well, I hate to disappoint but, just for a change, I’m talking about the other white stuff…

That’s right cocai- No, not fucking cocaine. Who said that?

Snow, I’m talking about snow. Good old-fashioned glistening, wet and white snow (does sound sexy when I put it like that doesn’t it?), and what a bunch of it we’ve had.

It’s crazy though. I’m sure I’m not the only sad case blogging about it, but what the fuck is up with the council? Fucking, once a fucking year it’s like this..if that! Once a fucking year the place comes to a standstill and folk hit the panic button.*

We’ve had a healthy dose of snow over the last few days but cars are still driving, the sun is still rising (allegedly) but folks just can’t handle it. A few towns over from me they’ve run out of milk and bread.

The entire town!

No milk!

No bread!

“It’s the apocalypse!” Fucking morons – and that’s offensive to morons**

Mushroom cloud

A mushroom snow cloud. Signalling the End of Days (if you live in Cowdenbeath)

Anyway, enough bitching. This post is about photos.

SNOW! Good God y’all. What’s it any good for? Going fucking sledging!

Yes, sledging. Awesome fun. You are never too old, unless your 90 (and dying painfully of hypothermia, scrabbling around on all fours, like a dog, looking for a hole to crawl into and expire).

Took the boys down the park on the first day of the snow (Sunday the 28th November for my bit of the world) for an epic sledging adventure.

As expected though, the snow was threadbare like a badly laid carpet covered in the BFG’s dandruff.

What's left of his hair is supposed to be black. Fuckin' manky all that dandruff. Have a wash you big bastard.

Still, the boys had a laugh and I took a dose of photos.

What a Face!

"To winter's chilly touch doth golden autumn yield"

Surfin' the Snow

We only lasted about an hour as it was baltic and the boys were a bit too wet to be hanging about in the freezing cold.

As I was wrangling them up Charlie says to me

“Dad, can I go through your legs?”

“Aye, sure son.”

“Cool.” he says with a mischievous little laugh that I took for excitement more than anything else.

So up the skate ramp he goes (for that, dear friends, is the death trap we were using to get the most speed and exhilaration – as I said before: ┬ácarpet/dandruff/BFG/threadbare) and gets ready. I, meanwhile, pass the camera to Jamie’s pal and tell him to take a photo of Charlie motoring on through between my open legs in his sled.

Moments later he is building to warp speed, down the ramp, heading straight for me and the gap between my legs.

Closer.

Closer.

Time seems to slow down as the sled and Charlie, giggling like a schoolgirl, hurtle towards me. I prepare myself to guide him through so that no injury occurs. The nose of his sled crosses the threshold betwixt my stems of ambulation and then…

CRUNCH! A tiny fist. right in the fucking bullets!

Right in the Bullets

Little fucker!

Telling you I’d have ripped him a new one if I hadn’t been laugh-weeping at his audacity and forward planning.

Nicely played, son. Nicely played.

Malc

*Well all apart from the one guy I saw out cleaning the snow of his and his neighbours (plural) cars at 07:50 this morning. He was dressed for it wearing a woollen tammy on his head along with a brown cosy looking dressing gown, green wellies and pink marigolds. Not a fucking joke either – wish I had had my camera with me.

**I wanted to use the word retard here but I felt that that was too…too…retro. Yes, too retro.