Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
As highlighted in my blog The Beagle With The Seagull, I recently re-homed a beagle hound. Six weeks of providing shelter, poop picking, feeding, and walking the capricious hound have taught me a valuable lesson… I should have rehomed a budgie!... Only kidding, I would not swap Bella for the world. Unless of course the... Continue Reading →
A few weeks back, some sixty-six million years after dinosaurs became extinct and slightly before yours truly commenced penning this narrative, I rehomed a dog. The hound in question a four your old beagle who, for the purposes of the narrative (and because it’s her name), I shall call Bella. With details of the rehoming... Continue Reading →
I was interested to learn it was World Naked Gardening Day last week. I’ve not undertaken any real research on the matter, but I’d venture this celebration isn’t openly embraced by this sceptred isle’s gardeners. Us ordinarily reserved Brits leaving that sort of exhibitionism to individuals from more uninhibited countries. Incidentally, when I write ‘I’ve... Continue Reading →
Last Sunday afternoon, as the boxer shorts I’d worn all camping weekend walked themselves to my laundry basket, yours truly hopped into an invigorating shower. Despite being piping hot, and receiving able assistance from a fragrant shower gel, the water’s mission of relieving me of three-day old grime proved a challenge. Mercifully, though, due to... Continue Reading →
Easter Saturday bequeathed West Yorkshire's populace warm(ish) Bank Holiday temperatures. Consequently, yours truly ventured out to take in a local league cricket match. A game which, although not partaking for over a decade, I played my mid-teens to the cusp of middle-age. Cricket a game of which I've written about on numerous occasions, in particular... Continue Reading →
Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money. As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated... Continue Reading →
In one of his trademark offbeat observations on the BBC TV gameshow ‘Would I Lie To You?”, likeable funny man Bob Mortimer claimed the distant memories he was about to recount were like “Fingerprints on an abandoned handrail.” This humorous, but idiosyncratic, observation describing how he only had vague memories of the absurd yarn he... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening I attended an Open Mic evening at a chic Harrogate eatery. To clarify, an Open Mic night isn't attending a event to be entertained by a candid fellow called Michael... Unless, of course, the amateur turn is a forthright chap called Michael... In which case, you are attending an Open Mic evening presented... Continue Reading →
Scene – In a supermarket parking lot, a middle-aged man ambles past a trolley shelter towards the stores entrance. The fella distracted by a game he’s playing on his mobile device; a challenge he’s recently become addicted to. Carelessly not looking ahead, he foolishly introduces the jeopardy of being mowed down by a vehicle (or... Continue Reading →