Quick word about comments ...
Comments here are 'moderated'. In as much that I have to physically see them and wave them through once you hit Send.
So, if ye write a Comment. Post it. Don't see it? No worries. It's just sitting there, waiting for me to come online and find it in my email. I click and your words appear here.
Please don't post it several times. Get frustrated and storm off, never to be seen again. It's just a measure I was forced to put into place by doxxers, spammers and other, mentally unstable's.
Had to get off the bed to answer it. I'd been half expecting it. I just didn't know when it would come. But, anyway, I figured, as I was off my back I'd might as well start my day there.
Guy was delivering some dripping to the pub in town for me. I'd got his number and ordered the stuff. Leaving the money at the pub. I don't know why he wanted to ring me, today. But, I wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize this first hand source of the holy grail. I Need my dripping!
Anyway, he rang me. I answered. Then, he's saying I should ring him back in ten minutes. No; He'd ring me back ..... Guy was really fucking with my head! Ye shouldn't do that. My head's fucked enough as it is.
And that's how I found myself making a cup of tea. Feeling the urge to purge. And wondering ..... I use my phone on loudspeaker, see? Refuse to put one against my head. That gives ye brain cancer and I don't fancy that. That shit Seriously fucks with ye head! 
But, anyway, it all came together in my just woke up, wanting to go to the ditch, aggravated by this phoner mind:
How about I go to the ditch, in ten minutes time. Ring this cunt back and say; " Hullo? Can ye hear me? Good. Fucking listen to This ....! "
And then stick the phone where I did the camera that time. Thus giving this cunt the audio version of my morning time burst of explosive diarrhoea! 
Happily, I was able to curb that instinct, though it did lead to me staggering around the kitchen, clutching my guts as I cried with laughter at the prospect.
My wholesale block of dripping is now awaiting me, in the pub. My future supplies look assured. All is good in the world and nobody was mentally scarred.
But; Please don't phone me in the morning!
Sorry I'm a bit late, folks. I was called away and have just got back. Now, after Warning ye as best I could about what was gonna happen here, I reveal that shitty shot!
I'll be loading it direct to the Blog, to avoid PhotoBuckets' prurient censorship. That may shrink or crop the photo a bit. Click on it to be sure ye getting the full glory. Sorry if it's not pin sharply focused. You try operating a time sensitive camera, down the back of ye arse, whilst letting rip with the mornings dose of Explosive Diarrhoea!
Why am I doing this? For The Craic! What point or sense is there in it? None what so ever! It makes me laugh like a fucking drain; That's good enough for me!
Fucking Priceless!!!
Ok; I got bored with that,
and it was messing up my Blog.
Simply nothing to report.
I mean; If ye wanted to read some mundane shit about how I've been slapping a few coats of Bonding onto my wall, preparing it for tiling, as part of my on going struggle to get my shower set up ....? Perhaps not though, eh?
The weather? Bit of a British obsession, isn't it? Here it's more of a concern ~ we truly depend on it ~ but, as we can't do shit to change it, we more tend to live with than discuss it.
My on going beer production I talk about on Jim's ..... Simply nothing else much to set me off just now. Nothing that might interest you lot then. And, I'd rather say nothing than just spout boring shit. So, I'll sit quietly and wait till something happens that I think might make a read for ye. Then it'll appear here :-)
Oh; One thing ..... Ebola. Yeah. That's right. The thing normally associated with Africa. Where ye guts turn to a bucket of liquid and come spurting out of ye backside like a high pressure hose? Well, I reckon I've got me a dose of that.
At least, that's to say I'm capable of shitting through the eye of a needle, for Olympic Gold. Did it just now. Sat out there in the ditch. Guts burbling. Whoosh! Hitting the water like a jet washer. I put it down to the virginally young beer I was guzzling yesterday. Right down to the dregs of the barrel.
But, tonight, as I sat grinning at the sound of my guts jetting out with a shearing sound to the water below, I thought to myself; " What must that look like?! Continuous, thin stream of high pressure, liquid shit, gushing out of my pin prick tight arse hole."
Yeppers. Ye Know I'm gonna do it, don't ye? My guts are gurgling and churning, even as I type this. I'll be out there again before I turn in. And again in the morning. I'm always at it. I'll get ye a picture. What an iconic photo that'd make.
Leave it with me. Just check in now and then till it appears. Which it will.
I don't fuck about. Ye know me. Just have to figure out which setting will best capture close up 'Action' stuff .....
