I just thought I would move into a more friendly blog posting system. So I'm trying out Windows live writer so bear with me for this post.
That should lead to Leg Iron's new blog
Mmm, works. Oh goody.
Family Motto: Spero meliora. (Loosely translated as, "I hope for better things") And if you don't like bad language, then bugger off. Beware. Cookies maybe lurking on this site. I usually post several times a day about differing subjects. Do scroll down
I just thought I would move into a more friendly blog posting system. So I'm trying out Windows live writer so bear with me for this post.
That should lead to Leg Iron's new blog
Mmm, works. Oh goody.
'Merry Christmas, Bob Cratchit! Here's five guineas for your Christmas dinner - and don't worry about coming in to work till the twenty-eighth!'Go on, have a giggle at the whole story
'Oh thank you, Mr Scrooge! Merry Christmas to you too, sir!'
Ebenezer Scrooge left his office and started walking down the picturesque snowbound streets, whistling Jingle Bells.
God, he loved Christmas.
Pausing only to stop off at Asda for some emergency supplies of sugared almonds and chocolate liquers - and throw coins into the hat of some rosy-cheeked carol singers - he walked back home.
Then he froze in his tracks. For, as he unlocked his front door, the knocker suddenly turned into a ghastly and horrible face. The terrifying likeness of Bruce Forsyth, presenting a Christmas Come Dancing Festive Special.

The first decade of this century is "by far" the warmest since instrumental records began, say the UK Met Office and World Meteorological Organization.They really are toeing the party line aren't they?Their analyses also show that 2009 will almost certainly be the fifth warmest in the 160-year record.
Burgeoning El Nino conditions, adding to man-made greenhouse warming, have pushed 2009 into the "top 10" years.
Are such things done on Albion’s shore?
The image of this nation that haunts me most powerfully is that of the sleeping giant Albion in William Blake’s prophetic books. Sleep, profound and inveterate slumber: that is the condition of Britain today.
We do not know what is happening to us. In the world outside, great events take place, great figures move and act, great matters unfold, and this nation of Albion murmurs and stirs while malevolent voices whisper in the darkness - the voices of the new laws that are silently strangling the old freedoms the nation still dreams it enjoys.
We are so fast asleep that we don’t know who we are any more. Are we English? Scottish? Welsh? British? More than one of them? One but not another? Are we a Christian nation - after all we have an Established Church - or are we something post-Christian? Are we a secular state? Are we a multifaith state? Are we anything we can all agree on and feel proud of?
Do read it all here