I have often wondered, how long after someone dies, should you keep their telephone number in your contact list – its been a dilemma for many years now.

I also have a problem with how people express the end of someones life.  By this I really mean when they say they have passed, passed on or passed away.  For me, that is a little bit too weak a phrase to describe the ending of a life.  People die, like all living things on earth, they die.  Do we talk about trees passing away, or the flowers in the vase on the window sill?  Nope, they die, just like our budgies, cats, hamsters, gerbils, dogs and any other number of living things we have in our lives.

The last time I checked a dictionary and as far as I am still aware, the word with the opposite meaning of ‘life’ is ‘death’ – Live and Die.

So today while sailing in the Med, Mallorca in the distance behind me and Ibiza getting ever closer in front of me, I was given a gentle reminder about names of the dead in my phone book.

Frank Sinatra and Luciano Pavarotti are a strange combination to offer me that reminder but nevertheless they did.

Our Chef on board, is a long time servant to the boss.  An old French dude with as much character as you would expect an old French dude to have, no, let me correct that, twice as much character as you would expect an old French dude to have.  He also has more than his fair share of Parkinson’s, not easy to deal with when you also have a large sailing yacht moving around underneath you.  Sometimes, the ships movement can be in time with Jean-Claude and he keeps a true line for his destination, other times, his chosen route can be twice the distance his eyes would have his brain believe.  To watch him with a kitchen knife is pretty amazing but equally frightening.

While we were on our little jaunt between Islands today, Jean-Claude popped one of his favourite CD’s into the player and we had some classical tunes on deck.  When it was my turn on the helm, there was a song that took me back a few years to a Church on the outskirts of Coventry.

The skies were spotlessly clear and only out-blue’d by the Mediterranean sea glistening all around me as the old crooner sang his version of ‘My Way’.  I instantly thought about Big Stan, my hairs stood on end and at the foot of each hair was a big goose bump and then I smiled as I remembered the entry in my phone book, and my dilemma every time I stumbled across it as to when I should delete it.

Well today, I think I finally got my answer – I will delete it when I am good and ready and not one moment before !!!

So bloody hot here at the moment, I can hardly be bothered to move.  I see people running in the middle of the afternoon and almost pass out at the thought of it – I am still saving my exercise regimes for early doors or early evening when it is cooler.

Talking of early doors, yesterday morning I headed up the mountain again on my bike, getting close to the summit, I came across a couple of chicas walking their dogs.  Only turned out to be the chef that sailed with us to Brazil last year – how random was that?

This week we should get our summer orders so I will know when I am leaving for a little break – in fact, I think I might announce it here first so be sure to come back and check later.

Please all say hello to my most recent subscriber – his name is Mason Jones – or to give him his full name according to the delivery docket I completed for him this week, Mason (smallcock) Jones.  Actually, it was more of an involuntary subscription – he gave me his password for something else – I subscribed him !  Either way, he is one of the biggest bell ends on my contact list.

So what else is new? Not much, ready for a break and a little bored if I am honest.  10k race in July which you will all be able to watch on the TV – I have to decide what colours to run in yet so any ideas greatly appreciated.

I am running a little light on poo photos so if you have some, get them across to me so that I can include them in the photo album ‘Turdilicious’.  I fully intend to take up Connors offer of shitting myself in Lucy – but let me explain that one – Lucy is his VW Beetle.

I also found out this week that the Prodigy have a european tour this year with Public Enemy as support – that could be an interesting outing for Rupert, Colin and myself!

Anyway, time to get off and do nothing for the rest of the afternoon – let me say hi to a few people

Rupert, Claire, Sharon, Jacqui, Connor of course, Jones the Cock, Sue Smith, Milf Horley, John and Mon (or mum and dad as I like to think of them), while we’re on that side of the fam, Lynsey & Amy, Amy Horne the old scrote, Christine Thornton, Steve & Nic, Deano the spaz, Junior Gurnsey – in fact, all of the Gurnseys (doesn’t look like I will make Kelly’s wedding – don’t worry, I’ll get the next one!!), Joyce & David, Jen & Den, Sam & Mark, Little ‘Mo and Noah, Kaz Thornham if she is still with us, a special hello to all of the non UK readers – super special to those outside of Europe but a very big hello to Ms Timothy down in saffa land – she might actually be the most distant reader.

I am in need of ideas – photo competitions or general stupidity that I need to achieve – call it a mid-life crisis

And Happy Birthday to Lana for tomorrow – better early than late I reckon

Spam me up buttered scone

Well well well, a new Tory government.  I kinda expected that – I generally think that the people of the UK want to have a vote on their membership of the EU.  Now, the eurocrats are running scared.  Not because the UK might leave but if they do, others will want to follow suit when they see that the UK has survived.  I get to talk to people from other countries all around europe and they all tell me they are pissed off with giving money out to other countries and treating immigrants better than they treat their own people.  A revolution is in the wings – mark my words.

After spending a lot of time in Brussels over the last 5 years, you get to see how much EU money is in that city – there is a lot.  All from the pockets of people in all of the EU countries, paying for diplomats to live in their luxury houses with reserved parking, finishing work at 2 in the afternoon and generally doing fuck all. It’s big business, grabbing the eurocrats money – as fast as it is grabbed, it is claimed back on expense reports.

Enough about politics – this morning I got up at 05:15 to hit the pavement for a quick half marathon before the sun came up.  I managed a respectable 2 hours 4 minutes for what was almost a kilometre too far, so by my reckoning, I was actually under 2 hours for the correct distance.  My previous best was 2 hours 9 minutes so a good improvement.

I got passed the other day while walking by a squadron of German cyclists, in efficient formation, line astern, pedals perfectly in tune and of course matching lycra. Now that made me chuckle.

You may remember me mentioning in a previous post about an idea for a new photo gallery.  Well today, I am launching a photo gallery called ‘The Poo Files’.  The world is full of smart phones, so be sure next time you go for a dump to take your phone with you.  Just after you have squeezed one out, stand up, turn around and take a photo.  If that is a bit too hard-core for you, feel free to snap away at any old pile of shit you find lying around (that does not extend to unwanted husbands!).

Did I tell you about what happened the other night?  I was sitting on the toilet at Mason’s place here in Palma when I heard the clip clop of high heels on the floor above me.  There is one thing you need to know about these local latin birds – they love themselves.  They honestly believe that their own shit doesn’t stink, really – better still, most of them believe they are above shitting, the way they walk around all glam’d up with their noses in the air, they really love themselves.  Anyway, I heard the clip clop above me, then a short pause of silence.  I then heard what must have been one of the most almightiest unloads I have ever heard – even worse than you hear in motorway services just outside of Heathrow airport – it was a monster.  Of course, my natural reaction was to LOL.

It also reminded me that I needed to post two photos of what were, for me, quite monumental dumps.  One I am calling ‘foot long’ the other I refer to as ‘the submarine’ – see if you can tell which is which, but please give me a few minutes to add them on the photos page – and remember, if you do anything equally as interesting, be sure to send me a photo, listing your name, age, sex and general diet.

McLovin It