German germans.

In Catalan the word GERMAN means BROTHER.

Hortz and Willy live in Catalunya - So they are German germans.

Before I proceed, let me make it absolutely clear that Hortz and Willy are a couple of spiffing chaps with an excellent sense of humour. Not that I understand much of what they say - but I always laugh heartily just in case.

So I hope that's clear - because I once wrote about the game of naked leap frog as enjoyed by some German city dwellers during lunch hours in the park. My lack of appreciation for this German activity prompted a complaint from a regular reader and so I deleted the post.

Last week I read that nude Germans are to have their own hiking track. The Swiss may have banned them but they can still lurk behind the bushes on quiet beaches in Spain.

British birders in search of a long toed stint or a penduline tit may get quite a shock.

I mean it's so embarrasing - you just don't know where to look do you?

And YES - they are naked - I checked through the binoculars.
KAZ

Old Fokkers

Ever since the day he arrived back in Manchester and his bag stayed 'abroad' Kev has refused to submit his luggage to the conveyor belt. This loss occurred years ago and, when the airline rep was asking about his address and the contents of his shabby valise, he mentioned 'Designer labels'.

'Oh - which ones sir?' she asked
'Well there's Wrangler' replied Kev.

Thank God this was in the days before Primark.

So the anticipation of potential disappointment as he waits at the carousel is too much for him to bear.

Before our recent trip to Paris with Flybe, he was concerned to note that his weapon bag on wheels might be too big. He was told that there wasn't much room on the plane because it had propellers. Now that didn't sound too promising - it put me in mind of The Red Baron's Fokker.

Here's our plane - it got us there (and back unfortunately) quite safely.


Early last Thursday morning we flew to Barcelona by jet (I know I know!).

Kev was uncommonly nervous when passing through check in. I was cucumber cool with my perfectly packed back pack.



As usual I pretended not to know him as he harumphed, perspired and made inappropriate observations.

When finished, he was replacing his belt and the customs guy said "The bar's that way sir!"

Oh dear.
Is it so obvious?
KAZ

RKive.

My mum was an Air Raid Warden during the war. Not that we ever had an air raid in our village .... that link wasn't very helpful was it? However, she got a lovely uniform, and a rubbery gas mask and this box which was for storing valuables.

I hasten to remind you that this was long before I was born. But my parents always stored passports, driving licences and important documents in the box.

And I still do.

Last week I was searching for something or other and - in between the birth, death, marriage and divorce certificates - I found this.

I'm sure that (through the medium of this blog) my lovely friends Vivien, Carol, Joan, two Jeans and two Barbaras would like to join me in sending an unreserved apology to our form teacher Mr.G.
We hope his enforced 'holiday' helped and that he was reunited with his wife before her fertile years had passed.

KAZ

Tattoo?

Where do you stand on tattoos?

Me?

I always find them a bit unsavoury (my favourite word at the moment). It's probably a generation thing, but tattoos still say docks, flick knives or so drunk I didn't know what was goin on m'lud.

Anyway, as I've mentioned before, I rarely do anything irreversible like piercing my ears or giving birth.

So when Becks ran out in his short sleeved shirt at Wembley last week I was not impressed. Although the arms were awful, they can be covered. But what will that neck look like when he's 75?

Let's hope this is back in fashion by then.

And on Wednesday I discovered he was chosen by adults as the most suitable role model for children! And there's worse - second on the list is David Cameron!!!!!

Here's a pic of Dave's arse.

KAZ

Alpecin

Remember where you heard about this FIRST.

There was a huge advert in today's METRO (which they wouldn't let me copy) - so here's a German version.

They call it 'Doping for Your Hair' and it's available at BOOTS.

Allegedly ... 'Alpecin has been proven to successfully eliminate the negative impact of testosterone on the scalp.'

And IT WORKS!

Don't say I never tell you anything - eh?
KAZ
NB (re previous post) - The Audenshaw boys were aquitted - Police and prosecutors have been strongly criticised for pursuing the case

Audenshaw.

When sixteen year old Brenda Ann Spencer went on a high school shooting rampage in 1979, she had more than two deaths and eight injured children on her conscience. She allegedly inspired Bob Geldof to write 'I Don't Like Mondays' for his band The Boomtown Rats.

High School Massacres are all too common - here's the top ten.

Unlikely as it seems - Matthew Swift, 18, and Ross McKnight, 16 almost added Audenshaw to that list.

Audenshaw and Denton are near Manchester. They are small innocuous towns inhabited by working class people who have a reputation for being your typical 'salt of the earth' Northerners. But, instead of breeding whippets, lending cups of sugar to the neighbours and doing Granny’s shopping in Morrisons, these two lads have been planning death and destruction.

Their targets were their school - Audenshaw High (where Mick Hucknall used to go) and Crown Point Shopping centre (where Kaz goes shopping).

(You'll think you've died and gone to heaven at Crown Point. No Comet, Currys or B&Q - just River Island, TK Max, H&M etc. etc..)

I don't think these two young men owned guns but they intended to get them and use them. Brenda Anne's rifle was given to her as a Christmas present by her father.

How are the courts going to deal with this?

Lads who brag or write about blowing up school can't be so unusual. Bomb recipes containing hydrogen peroxide are all over the internet - just do a search - and most of the ingredients are perfectly legal.

Is this the real life
Is this just fantasy ...
Thunderbolt and lightning-very very frightening me

....... and in Audenshaw of all places.

The trial proceeds at Manchester Crown Court this week.
What do you think we should do with them?
KAZ
The boys were aquitted 'Police and prosecutors have been strongly criticised for pursuing the case.'
See them here.

Paris - bad and good.

MAL:
Day before.
It was freezing cold and pouring down in Manchester and the central heating was on max.
The forecast for Paris was not good.
Kev insisted he was coming down with swine flu.

BON:
Flight good.
Paris was warm, sunny, confident and vibrant.
The swanky hotel (well the flight was free) surpassed expectations.
We mingled with Parisians enjoying the last evening of August.
Drinks in pavement café in Chatelet and a wonderful meal at La Fresque (a favourite from previous trips) ended the excellent day.

MAL:
Manchester weather came across to join us. It was raining chats and chiens.
It was a perfect day to visit The Pompidou. We hadn't done our research - it was closed on Mardi.
My pathetic Primark umbrella was woefully inadequate to the task of protecting two persons of such disparate altitudes. I insisted we would find one of those little bags containing an anorak thingy in GAP. No. Trying more shops (even C&A) brought no luck. Why hadn't I packed a mac?
As saturation point approached I was ready to assault and mug anyone wearing anything waterproof.
Kev's swine man flu came back.

BON:
Mercredi was wonderfully Sunny again.

A wander through the wonderful Marais (this guy tells it so much better than I could) and a walk up the Rue du Temple brought us to the exotic Arab area in Belleville .

Some of the window displays were more fabulous than others.


Summer had returned. We stayed out late - eating, drinking and people watching.

BON:
Cloudy but dry.

Ideal day for visit to Pompidou - same old wonderful stuff.
Here's Moi with the famous Matisse cut out. Great to see where the kneecap (click to enlarge) was stuck on afterwards.


MAL:
Time to go home.

..........................

I loved Paris even more than in previous visits.

It's much better than Manchester (Ha Ha) and (I hate to say this) but I think it's better than Barcelona too.

Paris is proud of itself, it's showing off and out to make an impression - and it succeeds.

I love it.
KAZ.