August …. ‘Over & Out’ !


So strange for me at this moment in time, my body clock is really out of sync.

Picture this, its dark outside, …… how do I know this you ask? … Because its early doors, 05:45, only the silence of the early dawn, there is no wind so far, only the whisper of a breeze, I sit comfortably in the leather window chair which softly creaks,  I am able to make out through my unaided eyes the port marker light on the end of the Breakwater and a few residential lights splattered along the coastline. Someone is snoring heavily, laid comfortably in her basket is Hannah, the phantom plum stone boffer, a nice little present from the midnight ritual of raiding the waste bin, she sneaks a peek at me and twitches the end of her tail, a sign she has recognised that I am not the enemy. I gently doze, I am tired, a bit like today, the last day of a wonderful August.

Sadly these days I prefer to keep in the shade during midday and afternoon, rather like a vampire, who might be out on day release. Just the mere thought of looking up towards that perfect sphere of plasma that keeps us so firmly on the ground makes me want to dig deep into my pocket to check that my sick pills are still there. Too much heat and the culmination of my new anticoagulant tends to make my blood putter away like a pan of borscht on a hot plate.

The sunshine is such a wonderful phenomenon, and I absolutely adore it. To be honest I havent done this for quite a few years I can tell,  but I would often have the need to become at one with nature and disrobe, the drawback was having to walk across a shingled beach for a mile or so to get to where everyone seemed to know you,  but dared not ask your name.

To feel the intensity of the heat totally enveloping you like an invisible cloaking device was quite sensual and bought a certain euphoria to ones inner self. In another dimension I probably would have been quite happy dancing naked round a worshipping block or laying out on the ground spread-eagled waiting for that something surreal to occur. Even in my dreams I cannot see that happening, especially as there are far more bodies more beautiful than ever nowadays to even consider sacrificing mine, believe me, that ship sailed a long time ago.

Somehow, I think I may have said far too much, again. But hey, what the hell, at least you are reading this and that’s all that matters, hopefully so are many others too.

Only a few more days to go and my mate and I will be shading under a cabana in Mallorca, a mere 36C will be infiltrating through the wind bellowed cloth above onto my delicate porcelain wrinkled old carcass, well, of what ever remains that are not covered. That will be just from the knees down, and naked from the elbows. I may be wearing a hat, that subject is a bone of contention, as I may have the perfect face for radio, a head for a hat I have not.

I have noticed that the afternoon siesta will become a need of desire again.

“uf , estoy caliente” !

Phew, I am hot! <wink>

Who put the cannabis in the font.

(a small composition I had tucked away for a rainy day)

Just exactly,  who placed the cannabis leaves in the font?

For quite sometime there has been a sweet smell emanating from the area of the baptismal font, of course the majority of people associated in this environment had no idea or had even noticed that there was a pungency loitering.

Were we, as such fine connoisseurs on this matter being paranoid?  I don’t think so, but it would always seem strange that when the flower ladies are en masses just how bright and cheerful this hardy team of florists seem to be when creating their designs.

Are they responsible for this action, is it a sign from the great above or are they finally having a coffee and just chilling out in good company? Mind you, the contract cleaners are here often on their own, normally early, perhaps it is they?

I have visions of adult Brownies and Guides sat in a circle, cross-legged and passing a joint around. Each one telling a story they have all wanted to share but had never dare in ages, tightly slip lipping in hard, the burning of the leaves almost blistering their windpipe. Not wishing to exhale until the last possible moment and then only with a stream of fine thin smoke with the ecstatic volume of relief. Almost an oral and brain orgasm. A slight choke, the yearn to catch the reefer when it travels back around, each pair of buzzed eyes yearning for the head rush and euphoria that would make their body shudder and slightly convulse.

Who dares to whisper the aged mantra? ….. “Holy shit, this shit is good shit”

Being such super sleuths and very busy and nosey parkers we did a bit of digging, and the only viable thing we could come up with, was that a few weeks previous we had a HUGE christening, with quite a few dubious characters attending. Perhaps “they” had pangs of guilt and the only option available apart from being struck by lightning was to dispose of the remnants.

I am not pointing any fingers ….. but !


New WordPress member

Just thought I would let you know that my dear friend Chris, whom I often refer to when writing my passages, has bought a digital quill and joined the rest of us wordies here often pressing for a deadline, he can be found at

Hopefully, his prose may fill in a few of the hidden gaps in mine.

Wish him luck fellow wordies and follow him, I can promise you, that the song “let me entertain you” has nothing on this.

Good luck dear friend x

Paul Stamp

Halfway Between Barking Mad & Total Genius


August 25th 2016

Some of history’s most prolific writers and composers of our time have either been genius, plain barking mad or somewhere in-between and that includes either being addicted to alcohol or some other form of drug or chemical.

Many of the great Musical Classicists were profoundly deaf, most were so high as a kite or out of their own tree that it still amazes me that they were even able to hold their own instrument or quills, let alone strike an ivory, pull a bow or even be able to sit at their own piano or desk.

I always was, and still to this day consider myself more of a Beatles Babe than a Californian Beach Boy, I considered the latter music totally monotonous, (Good Vibrations did my head in) and to that comment I must add, music is of a personal agenda, no two people ever share the same playlist, or even come to that, ever dance at the same frequency in time or even in tune together.

We all knew the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and the such big progressive groups were into drugs. To add an insult to an injury and icing placed on top of it, only yesterday (where the hell I have I been hiding) did I learn that the Beach Boys in their heyday were constantly tripping their nuts off whilst writing all of their famous Summer hits, guess that figures as they were the tail end of the Woodstock era which psychedelically traversed itself through the flower power and hippy movement. LSD and its associated trips were readily available about ten years or so ago and as far as I am aware have no doubt they are still being torn into many micro strips even to this day.

Perhaps I shouldnt admit to this, but of the twice time that I popped a tiny cardboard square. On both occasions I’m sure that I met the devil, or his advocate at least, and after what seemed like an eternity fighting with him I eventually returned back to square one, again believe me, that is not a pun.

A friend suggested I get out and have some fun clubbing at one of our regular haunts, I was quite into the scene then, but, that’s another story available only for my adult viewers and then only on request. “Go on, you will be fine” he said. So, eventually and with much reluctance chewed and swallowed one of these so-called happy small perforated items, I should have guessed that the many repeated instruction given after of  “if I started to feel ill I was to sit down and try to relax and think of nice things’ was definitely a bad omen ….

If you have ever seen the Mrs Browns Boys episode where Agnes takes some *headache* pills, then you may see the funny side of things …. there were hundreds and hundreds of flying orbs and sparkling lines jetting about in front of me, I was coping quite well and enjoying the environment around  …. until another friend spotted me across the sweaty dance club floor. Suddenly I knew it was all going to end up horribly wrong and be a complete disaster, I can hear his words still to this day …. “sorry to hear your Mum died” (two weeks previous) as he hugged me tight and cried into my ear ……. It was all down hill from there on ….. and when I say downhill I mean DOWNHILL.

I will never forget that nightmare experience, ever.

Making a point, although you may think that some of my ‘passages of time’ may seem a little strange, believe me, its got nothing to do with any form of drug, its only myself trying to put lost times into an order, hopefully It will finally fall into a particular one.

Now that I have had some time to think about it. In what location would I consider placing my own self in the spectrum of between barking mad or genius I ask?

To be honest, lt all depends on what position the moon was in last night and what time I woke up this morning!

Hope that has clarified a few things for you.


The Vicar & the Undertaker tour …..

Monday 22 August 2016

Ian & Ian Main Press Picture.jpgI was asked by my Vicar if I would be interested in helping promote something that he and his friend, an Undertaker, were planning together.

Why me I ask myself?

Apparently, word in the parish has it that im a whizz kid with Social Media, fact is, I do have a “MyFace” account and run a personal “Tweeter” feed, but that is certainly nothing compared to what I had agreed to saying ‘yes’ to in the beginning. The only way I can describe it now is, as it’s a monster, that’s ‘M O N S T E R’ ! or phonetically for greater effect …… …..Thats “EM  OH  EN  ES  TEA  EE  ARRR” 🙂

Now this monster has not been or is ever likely to be possessed by the devil, nor is it likely to be anything undead, (can you see the relationship here with the title yet?) …. but it certainly has started to become a bit of a wild creature, steadily running out of control and having to try to liaise and ensure that everyone to the right point at the right time is very demanding, but I think somehow it might just tame itself eventually and it will become a great success.

The two Ian’s, both motorcycle enthusiasts had agreed that they wished to visit the Four Cardinal Points of the United Kingdom on their own bikes. Both Gentlemen then decided that they would like to ask the community to consider sponsoring the run or make a donation to help improve access for the disabled and elderly in the three of our five churches in our Mission Community here in Brixham.

So, it would seem that with my previous history of planning events and my once busy work schedule I now wear a new hat with the title “Tour & Fund Raising liaison Officer & Social Media Representative” (something like that) … and that’s one bloody big hat I can tell you.

It is not one of my creations, it seems to have just grown on its own and something that is this big, one could possibly guess that it was designed by one of the great milliners ever, David Shilling. No doubt Gertrude, his mother would love to wear it, that’s only if she were still alive today.

Setting up a Facebook page and a Twitter feed was easy and we have been promoting this event like crazy, certain weekday evenings have #DevonHour & #TorbayHour on Twitter and the feeds go crazy. Now we have the local press involved and today after numerous amounts of correspondence,  the lovely Kerry White on her Saturday radio show has invited us to join her which will give us the opportunity to Q&A on a Live On-Air interview, scheduled just before midday on BBC Radio Devon.

I have even managed to rope in the Bishop of Plymouth Nick Mckinnel if he would bless the first part of the tour which starts Thursday September 1st 2016 to the South Cardinal via Plymouth City Centre, and he has agreed. Only this morning I received confirmation that our local biking community known as BMAD are escorting the Vicar and the Undertaker from the departure point here in Brixham on-toward the A38 where another biking chapter will take over …. I think this might just become both awe-inspiring and very emotional for Rev’d Ian & Mr Loram, most bikers are of a hardy breed and look out for those that they care for.

You can of course, follow the tour  on or

Or we would really appreciate any online donations if you are able.

Thankyou very much



Sunday …. Kitchen sink drama’s

Sunday August 21st 2016s-l1600.jpg


Nothing to report as such, except my neighbour decided he wanted to change his new mixer taps just recently fitted in his new kitchen, for even newer.

So, I obliged, In return for a few glasses of fizz, yet again.

“All hail to the new mixer taps” … we cry!

I’m sure you must think that I am a lush of sorts? …..  And of course you would be right. Sort of, YES!

All things THV Patricia ….

20th August 2106

Out here this late Saturday afternoon on the isthmus we are shrouded in mizzle, its dire as a matter of fact, although temperature is at a stable 20 Celsius. My front door is open and im busy doing all sorts of PR stuff for one of the committees I attend.

Music du-jour at the moment is the incredible Will Young which is ‘gently’ blasting through my speaker system. Its been a great afternoon, even managed to pop down to a neighbour who was having a garden party where I was able to self administer a couple of Jam and clotted cream scones.

Suddenly the mist and rain has lifted, as quick as the last paragraph and my storyline twists a different turn. Out in the bay, is moored the Trinity House Vessel THV ‘Patricia’P1010866.jpg

Although she is an operations ship, she also has a slight spin to her maritime tasks, that being having the option to provide passenger voyages. Quite an exclusive club to perhaps inform others that you are a member, and with the ability to carry only twelve fare paying passengers at a max it makes it quite special. It’s a bit like a mystery tour that you would once have taken on a coach on a Sunday evening, except this is all at sea. “She” is on call around the British Isles 24/7/365

The THV Patricia is a fully working ship and those who voyage on board her observe first-hand the day-to-day activities she undertakes, whether planned lighthouse visits, helicopter operations, lightvessel towing or buoy maintenance, including the marking of wrecks and sometimes even unplanned emergency response situations everything is unscripted and without agenda.

I quite fancy a week on-board, just to say I have been would be nice. Especially with my past relationship with boats and the importance of being that perfect sailor and understanding the rules of seamanship. The accommodation is very luxurious, in fact, I have heard that when its Cowes week it sometimes doubles up as temporary use for the Royals now that Britannia is out of commission.

Six beautifully appointed en-suite cabins, the availability of a steward on call twenty-four hours with private lounge, beautifully appointed shared dining and a personal chef are there for the use of if you wish to go that bit further cash wise. Goodness knows how I would cope on one of those ‘Celebration’ type cruises, a bit like being at ‘Butlins’ on the water  …. but this undoubtedly is something totally different.

view.jpegview-1.jpeg800.jpegAs you can see, it is fit for a Queen. It certainly looks amazing.

Imagine being out on the observation deck watching these men going about their tasks and duties in all kinds of weather. Anchors up and away. As Captain and crew remain tight-lipped as she heads at ‘All Full Ahead’. One could possibly pretend one was an MI5 Spy, a superhero, on a mission for the British Government ….. off to save the world. ….. Imagine that as an amateur writer what kind of story you could come up with. One would, or I certainly would, fancy that the weather be tempesty and the sea state quite rough as we battle toward our secret destination. Apparently visits to the bridge are unlimites and being able to get into the routines of help chart maps and plot routes. Now, that really would be something rather unique indeed. view-2.jpeg

By the way, every time “Patricia” comes into Torbay I imagine that its my dear old Mum checking up on us, for her name was Patricia too.

Safe travels THV Patricia

*whoooop*-*whoooop*-*whoooop*  “Attention passenger Stamp, Attention passenger Stamp, Please report to the Captains mess ……IMMEDIATELY!”