Off early to catch the ferry from Southampton to the Isle of Wight. Given the state of our roads you have to allow a big margin for traffic jams. As it happens no major holdups, just a smattering of annoying chaos.

Our VRBO.
Get to the ferry early and catch the earlier one. Wow, good customer service. It’s only an hour but sat inside with hardly a mask in sight – these selfish egits don’t have enough sense to spit downwind. Is the IoW going to be full of scrots then?
Our VRBO’s is ready and waiting for us.
Quiet night in, not even a drop of alcohol passes my lips.


Says it all.



What is our village famous for. Well there’s the Garlic Farm and the Donkey Sancuary. But in my mind the The Star American bar and restaraunt is it’s real claim to fame.
Not that I want to offend any Dumbkey Sanctuary devotees but what is it with this obsession with them. I despair when I see adverts on TV to text “Donkey” to send £3 a month to help save a donkey. Who are these people? I can only assume they are so filthy rich that they’ve donated shed loads of money to sensible charities like Cancer Research; Save the Children; Red Cross and other worthy causes and have a few bob left over for this asinine cause along with Save a Cat. Not that I’ve anything against donkeys, always enjoyed a donkey ride on the beach as a child, but surely there are so many other more worthy causes than Donkies.
Up and out for a tour of the South of the Island.
Start off at Shanklin. Seems a pleasant resort ideal for kids. Then onto Ventnor. Not really much there so we don’t bother stopping. Lunch sat overlooking the white cliffs of the Needles. Then it’s onto the Needles. Can’t believe Wendy’s never heard of them. £6 to park – scandolus. All there is there is a fun park village, complete with a single chairlift down to the beach. There’s an unbelievable queue to ride on a decrepit, slow lift.

A scooter rally. Brings back memories of Lambrettas, parka and tigers tails.
Joy, it’s started to rain. All part of the great British summer staycation – then people wonder why I want to escape.

The Needles.

Sandown beach.
Back home for some wine and TV.





Well surprise, surprise yet another VRBO with crap wifi. Fortunately the water and power are reliable. When will renters realise that reliable wifi is an essential akin to water and electricity. In futre all bookings will be made contingent upon a guarantee, with penalty clauses, of 10Mbps, ping less the 30msec and cosistent supply.


Garden at Godshill.
At least the downpour had stopped by the time we’d got to Cowes. After the usual faf trying to park we have a shuffle around Cowes and the Cowes week (sailing) market. It’s a very pleasant little town mainly due to the lack of traffic on the the main street and lots of independent shops rather than the usual homogenous glut of chain stores. And the highlight of the day for Wendy is an M & S Food store.

Cowes.
Have a drive through Ryde on our way to visit Anne and Geoff (A & G) in Sandown. Ryde looks interesting and may be woth a visit tomorrow.

Some great entertainers at Cowes.
Back home for a delicious crab sandwich and some not so delicious Pinot Noir. And yes some more Netflix.





A human rights abusing, terrorist sponsoring and religious-extremist regime (Iran if you haven’t already guessed) has spent the past 42 years intent on causing as much damage to its neighbours and the world as possible.
When will we stop appeasing them; believing them; and tolerating them? The only thing they understand is power. What’s wrong with a policy of regime change. Enough is enough and if they ever get a nuke then FSM (Flying Spaghetti Monster) help the World.
Meanwhile Macron has a hissy fit.
President Macron’s government has angered traditionalists by launching national identity cards featuring the English language. Quite right that they should realise the importance of the English language. Think themselves lucky we let them use it. No doubt the yellow jackets will be out on Saturday protesting.
Lazy start to the day as it’s raining for a change.
Drive to Sandown. Get the chairs out and Wendy has dinner on the beach. Sitting on the beach is a rare event for us. Thirty minutes on a beach and my threshold of tolerance expires – about as much fun as going to the dentist. This is certainly not the South of France, sadly no topless, not even any eye candy. Instead a surfeit of Brownie Gobblers, waddling around, with the excess of adipose tissue. Enough to put you off sex for life. So many of them with young fat kids in the family blobby.

How not to Kayak.
Wow, stopped for a coffee at a cafe and all the staff, young girls mainly, were so pleasant and great service. Such a change these days. Even took the trouble to speak to the manager and complimented him on his recruitment and training practices.
Drove up to Ryde, hardly mentioned in the marketing blurb for the IoW but has free parking, an interesting pier and a diverse range of individual shops.
Back home for a disgusting ready meal, chicken Burrito that has a never seen the inside of a chicken. Must have been Chinese, just rice.





Up and off before 10:00. These days even Wendy’s up and ready on time. It’s only 20 minutes to the ferry and Red Funnel very obligingly let us catch the 10:30 rather than having to wait until 12:30.
So what is the IoW famous for? Some may say The Needles. Some may say Osbourne House. I will say a glut of Skoda and Suzukis cars. Do they give them away free to all islanders or are they special offer on cripple mobiles.I know not politically correct, but we are starting to run out of words as the Snowflakes keep ostracising words. words now cast into political incorrect hell such as lame, disabled, handicapped, wheelchair-bound, spastic and victim, all cast into do goober oblivion.
One of the worst aspects of the island is the scummy tap water. You have to scrape the scum off the top and sides of a cup of tea before drinking.
It’s a lovely little island, little being the operative word. Everything’s so close togetether, maximum of 30 minutes drive in any direction. No major highways as you end up driving through housing estates with their temporary convoluted community chicanes created by cars parked down the side of a major route.

Elmer Sands beach.
As for our VRBO what can we say:
Modern, light, breezy, well equipped and quality fitings. Just right for two people. Let down by some minor irritations. Needed a four wheel drive to get down the pot holed track; a shower as slippery as an ice ring; oven with no marking on the knobs, so anyones guess what we’ll get. Water and electricity worked perfectly, but as usual wifi was more flaky than a French croissant. I did complain about it but despite promises of a new repeater nothing turned up. I managed to improve Mbps but still flaky. So 3 minors and 2 majors gets them a 3 star review.


Saw this and bizarrely remind me of the days when I was landed with responsibility for our legal department. The main task was dealing with non- payment and complaints. Our solicitor gave me some advice on how to deal with the legal complaints.
1 Ignore the first letter and put it in the bottom draw. Forget about it.
2 If a second letter then ask for some irrelevant information.
3 If they provide the information, ask for further clarification.
4 If they come back with a fourth letter then answer it with an totally irrelevant reply that does not relate to their complaint. Just loved the “..purple because aliens don’t wear hats.”.
5 If they come back with a fith letter then time to take them seriously.

Taking on Woke Inc.
Lazy start to the day as it’s rainin’ like a cow pissin’ on a flat rock.
Up to the local fishmongers for tonights tea – Haddock, Mondkfish tails and Scallops.
We have a drive down to Chichester Marina. No chance of a coffee as the restaurant has a queue longer than muslims trying to get to the Kaba.
Drive into Chichester for a shuffle around and get the joys of M&S Food Hall – I’d rather eat my own earwax. Quite a pleasant little traffic free town though.
Drive into Bognor Regis to see what it’s like. Get out to have a sandwich on the beach but as soon as we pearch ourselves it starts to passist it down again. Bognor’s claim to fame is a Butlins holiday camp and it hold the record for the most sunshine days on England. As for the rest it’s more depressing than the Kyber pass in Blackburn.
Back for afternoon tea and sat counting raindrops.
Fish for tea washed down by a rather pleasant American Zinfindel.





After my recent shopping experiences I have a new theory on mask wearing. There is a high correlation between the higher cost, quality stores such as M&S and Waitrose, and a higher percentage of mask wearers. Whereas the lower cost stores has more scrots, lower intelligent clientele and fewer mask wearers. That theory may well offend some anti-vaxer snowflakes – tough, wear a mask.

Brett wanted me to join him for a Turkish shave, haircut and massage. Pass, rather lick piss off a nettle than have some hairy arsed Turkish imposter stroke me arms and kneck. One wrong word and I could have me throat slit.
Day out with Brett. Drove up to Goodwood airedrome. Lovely Spitfire there – see photos. Nothing against the Germans – don’t mention the war – but somewhat ironic that the winner of the Battle of Britain and an icon of us winning WWII should have a German name on it – IWC Schaffhausen. You can have a 30 minute flight in a real Sptfire, only £2,750, but what an experience that would be. Coffee watching the planes take off.
Then drove into the South Downs National Park and up to the Kingsbrook Vineyard for lunch. Even though it was white – sadly all their wines were white or one Rose – I had a very pleasant Pinot Grigo they had produced. Would have splashed out on a bottle but £19 a bottle is £9 over my limit.
Then back home for afternoon tea. A very pleasant day out.

Relaxing. Homer and Marge Simpson.




The U.S. plans to seek a seat on the United Nations Human Rights Council and work to reform it. “Those with the worst human-rights records should not be members of this council,” Secretary of State Antony Blinken said. Good luck with that.
Just love this living out of a suitcase. Because Wendy constantly moans about me ransacking the suitcase to find my clothes and allegedly creasing all the clothes, she gets my clothes out for me each day. It’s like having a butler, not only are my clothes neatly laid out for me, but I don’t even have to bother choosing what to wear.
Set off home after a great few days with Karine and Brett.
It’s a journey from hell. Six hours with the satnav overheating as it has to constantly re-route to avoid major delays.
Oh well a good week. Now we have to gird our loins ready for the onslaught tomorrow as we look after the rug rats for three days and two night while Kurt and Fiona have a few days away. We must be masochists or mad.




Ever since my dismall performance of just scraping a pass in GCE English, probably because I’ve never truly understand the comma and where to put it. Never seems very logical and precise. Usually resort to the pepper pot approach and sprinkle a few on any piece of writing.
Saw this and it seems to make it much clearer:
Czarina Maria Fyodorovna once saved the life of a man by transposing a single comma in a warrant signed by her husband, Alexander III, which exiled a criminal to imprisonment and death in Siberia. On the bottom of the warrant the czar had written: `Pardon impossible, to be sent to Siberia.’ The czarina changed the punctuation so that her husband’s instructions read: `Pardon, impossible to be sent to Siberia.’ The man was set free.

Sick of the selfish, dumb, scrots who can’t be bothered to wear a mask indoors. That stupid that even if they don’t care about protecting others they can’t see the sense in protecting themselves. Perhaps covid is finally mutating to be a cull of the selfish and stupid. Anyway here’s 4 different mask I’m thinking of:

And if all the above fail then perhaps we need to resort to this: