the goblin's place Forum the goblin's journal

repost from the goblin's blog

the television thunders through the house on to the now leafless hedge, oh yes that same evening program TV viewing, that perky medially followed by the words "timeteam has just three days to find out if this plot of land was laid waste by the yokels because the owner of the health food cafe actually sold organic coffee" not that the goblin had ever paid much attention even if he knew those voices by heart, there was that guy who plays bauldric who always says "dayone and what I don't know is" or "dayone and what I can't understand is" at which point the goblin's mother would ask "...what's it all about...", to which the goblin would explain that it is something that even the presenter wasn't sure about, oh and then a man in green with a think country accent says "airezabe lots of rubbish and we'zadigging on then" giving the goblin's mother a second chance to ask "...what's it all about..." so the goblin just explains that they have dug a hole and it's all a lot of rubbish, and after that there's the girl who goes "wow look what I have found." as she holds some object to which bauldric then says "well that I think that proves it conclusively" to which the goblin, upon being asked a third time, would then explain that the thing that the presenter didn't understand was, since the hole had been dug and some object found, ample proof to his own conjecture alone, whereupon [i]the ten o'clock news[/i] would then start where if the goblin wasn't then careful he might feel that he was still watching the timeteam again

[IMG]http://i993.photobucket.com/albums/af58/FloridaBubbles/Decorated%20images/Searching_for_food_1440x900widescre.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

dungford village muddles along, just a little world with its heart somehow set in the past as ever refusing to accept that hurtling through space were objects hell bent on a collision course, and where the goblin too, felt himself little better than the village then, or this world now, for he too muddled along with everything it seemed, "...perhaps all we ever do is muddle along in this life..." ventured the goblin at himself, whereupon he turned around to his mother upon her anniversary, and inquired "...ah now, happy birthday mum and what would you like to do today then...", his mother smiled back and loosely replied "...ah, I'm going out into the garden to tidy up the hedge...", and with that the day passed much like any other, like all the others even, just a muddled ebb of the time remaining on a collision course all draped in denial and much muted despair

[img]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/SneakyGuardians_zps7b4edd92.png[/img]
xxx

repost from the goblin's blog

The goblin wondered if someone here would care to proofread his letter to the Parish Council below:

20th July 2006

re: my ad in your rag then

Dear village elders,
Now I understand that having a green skin, pointed ears and a screwdriver might not exactly put me into the type of person you would want to welcome with open arms to Riain'ile's very own timewarp of Dungford but if you put your pitchforks aside for a moment, allow me to explain that I am setting up a free selfhelp line for computers and would therefore like to place a ad in your parish magazine amongst those ones for healthfoods, livestock, and God. I thought too that it might be a good thing if we meet somewhere quiet where we won't be disturbed to discuss this further, let's say the church then.
Your sin.,
fleamailman

[img]http://davewatchingstuff.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/time-machine-1.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's journal

"...great news folks.." exclaimed the happy goblin now, then explaining "...after filling out the form, attaching a photo with some money, etc., finally today her majesty's government has somehow deemed me fit enough to have my very own [i]provisional driver's[/i] license..." and yet, the goblin was also aware that he could only drive the car with someone sitting next to him that already held a driving license too, so he turns around to his mother and asked "...look, instead of trimming the hedge today, would you fancy a spin in the car now..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jfaTsMUvVlU

[img]http://i.verylol.com/1/funny_monkey_driver.jpg[/img]
xxxx

repost from the goblin's journal

"...each night is simple just stay up till 02h00 and keep an ear out for rumblings downstairs.." otherwise the goblin's time was his own and he could continue checking to see whether those photos of naked females really do constitute art, a question that somehow didn't extend to the women in the health food cafe where animal-mineral-vegetable seemed more appropriate, "...well not meat..." he guessed, and then the gate rumbles downstairs, "...who's in..." she shouts as the goblin dashes to block the stairway "...ah, it's you, where's grandma..." she looks up opening the childgate "...grandma passed away..." blocking the stairs "...there, shall I help you..." the goblin holds her wrists and pulls her gently towards the direction of her bedroom where upon arrival he'll say "...jump..." a joke that distracts her long enough to have her fall onto the bed where tucking her in the goblin will say "...another coffee.." putting the kettle on as he clears the table of the places she had laid for her ghosts, she would thank him for the coffee that she never seemed to drink much and the goblin would return upstairs while the view from the window showed the moon with a thin smile of approval now

[img]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/blog6_zpsc4555e63.jpg[/img]

the goblin's blog

today the goblin was having trouble remembering the dungford's very own [b]english village walkway code[/b] which reads something like...

rule 283: safely passing pedestrians:

if passing someone in the street do the following in correct order:
- smile, ignore person if they don't smile back.
- then say "..hello...", ignore person if they smile walking on by.
- then say "...I think it is going to rain...", except when raining where one then says "...I think it is going to stop raining..." ignore person who wears a Tshirt marked [I]Islamic Republic of Dungford[/I]
- then engage in half an hour's smalltalk without once mentioning the foxban, the english civil war of 1642, and HDTV.
- then sign off by saying "...well it was very nice to met you again..." regardless of whether you're never met them, or that you're bored out of your banana.

In other words: first poke your head around corners, dash behind large enough objects, and tiptoe across the streets all in mission impossible style to avoid anyone if possible.

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/tumblr_m9igkbLuzt1qechu6o1_r3_500_zps34546353.png[/img]

 42) Yes those fox hunts may have gone but have you noticed how little children sit in baby buggies with their mothers pushing behind, now imagine the babby to be a horse, the buggy is the pack of dogs and yes: Dungford's fox friendly 'day of the hunt', that lunchtime stampeed with buggies the size of Humbees, masses of shopping bags, handheld telephones, oneway pavements(well um yes their way actually) lined against the odd stuffling OAP and one guesses that the odds of an OAP kill, oh and interest of the mums at the time, to be about the same now as they were before the fox ban

repost from the goblin's blog

the goblin wondered what anyone would buy in dungford village anyway, for there was a Spar(coop) of course and a flowershop with unimaginative flowers, not to mention that overpriced computer shop with its new ork who slangs off the punters the moment they leave, then again there's a heathfood shop where ill health seems infinitely preferable to one's sanity, and lastly a tearoom for grooming one's boredom, "...no, what I need at this point is some timetravel, intergalatic explorations then, or intellectual conversation and beautiful ladies who have libidos like some final eruption of krakatoa at sunset..." ventured the goblin, but no, no indeed then, for what the goblin actually had in these smallhours of this guard-duty here was this forum page with a little space upon it where he jot up some post while a bunch of emicoms could keep his company for his effort, he just ignored them though

[img]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/Voyage_of_the_Damned_zps78f609b7.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

43) drizzling, the village looked in its primeval norm, the goblin had agreed to explain the computer to a novice since he somehow couldn't forgive the great ork boss of the computer shop for poisoning the minds of the yolkles: computers could give without costing. "...well..." said the goblin "...it is all rather simple, you just have to imagine as in Stargate that you are a symbayot and your computer is your human host then.." the middle aged lady was following "...your role is to give the computer good health and longevity in return for controlling it..." but the woman already knew that much as she had been married for years

[IMG]http://i134.photobucket.com/albums/q119/Terratine/goauld_symbiote.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's journal

the goblin takes notes, the old lady who has invited herself down for a chat talks away relating how she has not talked to the butcher in years, to which the goblin's mother responds that she wasn't talking to the people on the other side of the hedge while the goblin, aloof to it all, thinks about the ork in the cavefront(computer shop) that the goblin no longer goes to, and just concludes to himself that in this village at least[b] one really isn't anybody until one stops talking to someone else[/b]

[img]http://www.danforthmuseum.org/assets/art/ana_maria_pacheco_dnos.jpg[/img]
xxxx

goblin's journal, stardate wheneven, some years back though

what with the bomb scare at the airport the goblin's bus arrives to london's deathrow airport where he was told "...so sorry you are not allowed in the terminal because you are not a transit passenger and non-transit passengers have to use the phone or internet to make their own arrangements instead...", the goblin went round the corner to another door at the other end of the terminal where using a french accent relates "..oui, I came form the exeter..." while stroking a non-existent mustache or juggling non-existent balls, enters, while once inside the goblin gets one of the last three seats for flight for geneva, yay yay yay, but that it's flying from pratwich airport now, thus grabbing a coffee and two bickys from the BA soup kitchen set up outside the goblin eats half of one biscuit and promptly gives up, pays the bus fare and gives the second bicky as a gift to the driver politely suggesting that he eats it later, perhaps much later indeed, then arriving at pratwick the queue resembles the yellow brick road, until finally at the desk the lady says"...well sir, would you like to put your keys, wallet, ticket and passport in this plastic bag, the rest we can put in the hold for you..." the goblin nods "...did you pack this bag yourself..." the goblin is nodding off "...any sharp object..." the goblin's head wobbles, gorps, etc., till she hands him the tickets, saying "...upstairs, just follow the departure signs...", queues, queues, queues till finally and merrily too the goblin now sits on the plane as the girls announces "...we are sorry for the delay but we are removing some bags holdside of people who haven't shown up...", still stuck on the plane with nothing to read the goblin wonders why the woman even bothers to ask for one's attention while she goes through the usual safety drill instructions so the goblin then puts his hand up and inquired "...excuse me miss, but what do I do if the person next to me happens to be a terrorist..."

[IMG]http://i316.photobucket.com/albums/mm347/cloudddae_2008/image0022.jpg[/img]

47)The goblin's stay in grindsvile(Geneva) was short, once more he would go through the cemetery to the tax-office probably thinking "...man, who is born of women has but a short time to pay taxes.." and although the congregation of the tax-office resembled that of a church, the same ties, same feeling of absolution, the wiping of the slate, etc., only the god was different. The goblin then saw four horses pass before him in the reception, their being capitalism's promise of inequality, insecurity's promise of fear, poverty's promise of crime and resignation's promise of childlessness, and then wondered if this is what most people daydream waiting in the taxoffice, "....anyway.." he goblin said to himself ".."tax here, death outside and God upstairs" should read the sign above the door..." as the goblin, his dues duly declared, dances out of the taxoffice into the cemetery feeling absolutely absolved to the Moneygod until the sobriety of so many gravestones stopped him with the thought "...funny how we build so much of our lives on a mere assumption of certainty...", he quickened his pace homewards, the clear day now seemed cold.

[img]http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w295/crinny13/art/Step20by20Step.jpg[/img]

48)"...well..." says the man from the tourist information "...we have the Fraumunster and the Grossmunster. There's a wonderful view from the university of the Fraumunster and the Grossmunster, oh and let's not forget the old town which is the area around the Fraumunster and the Grossmunster...." the goblin attentively asks "...ah good, anything else here in Zurich...."? The man replies "...Migros supermarket, Kloten airport, and pedestrians crossing the road I guess..." the goblin thought it was somehow "home from home" then.

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/Mummy.jpg[/img]

49)Delving between the roots and stumps with little more than an elongated pin and a dental road map the young man divines that there is something wrong with the state of the goblin's dental health, and since the goblin is more willing to risk "life and limb" than pay "an arm and a leg", he is now quivering under the gaze of a first year student of the local dental university who after making various attempts to numerate the teeth somehow gives up saying "....well Mr. Flea, just for my record you know, have you ever used a toothbrush..."

[IMG]http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z197/JulieHadley/dentist.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

that's it, the moment the goblin settles down to a morning in this lakeside cafe to write a wad of rubbish for this blogthread, his tinpot natel(cellphone) goes off to tell his that an alien in human disguise is arriving on the very next TGV. "...I mean really, just because I have done guidework in japanese, surely I don't now have to work for every tom, **** and ziggy-form-another-planet you know, and besides, where's the chief du protocol, the UN and the ****tail-&-canopies brigade...", but no incognito means muggins to the rescue as the goblin sets off into the sunset, well not quite, instead he cycles to the station at midday then

right the goblin is in the station now, talking to himself "...um, anyone got any idea what to write on this signboard, I mean I can't just write "Three eyed alien with zap gun", but then again distant creature invites "boy am I plum glad to see ya son, guess I kinda crossed the atlantic and you bet your butt I wanna get back", whereas superior being gets "oh I say, the native can write, here are my bags then and here is a bar of rain'ile's chocolate" - byuck, no thanks, best write something normal cosmos tours, done, hope he can read

ah this must be him "...hi there, you must be the extraterrestrial I've been asked to take to a nearby hotel on behalf of mankind and all that, follow me then, it is only a short walk...", he's worried and says "...wait earthling we haven't done the UN salute, people will notice, I will be found out, quick, I will just say the words and then you clap, got it, watch I'll show you how it's done..." the alien clears his throat(footnote: first rule of guiding - the customer is always out of his mind but should be appeased anyway) "...the seeds of our organization's will to stamp out injustice wherever we see it are sown here, thank you...." the goblin then claps away, and yes, the alien's right as no one takes a blind bit of notice

so far so good, almost at the hotel and not once has a, rats he she comes "...well hello big boy, fancy a quick..., ..." the goblin ignores her but "...ah, you must be an earth dignitary come to show me who is alien to these parts the world..." a smile the length of the lake of geneva crosses her face, the goblin(footnote: the idea that she would reply to the UN salute "...no ducky all wills must be covered..." hasn't crossed this his mind, pity) is reminding himself of guidework's second rule(footnote: second rule of guiding - aliens are are allowed to obliterate the world carrying off humanity into slavery as long as one can get home early), standard ploy time "...but your alienness there is an intergalactic email for you waiting at the reception..." while shoving him from behind "... but earthling I want to leave a deep impression on the dignitary...", a half nelson's alien is then seen pushed into the hotel

the sound of the automatic doors causes the receptionist to pop his head above his newspaper(footnote: in order to help those who are not used to a hotelier's terminology, appropriate translations have been added in brackets here) "...hello, how may we help you(alright, what's your story)...", the goblin explains that he is a client of guidework first rule status, the alien says "...the seeds, etc., etc.,...", receptionist replies "...well spoken sir(we we have a right one here), would you care to fill this out while I'll see if your room is ready(right amuse yourself with this while I find a room), did you have a nice trip(say something to me because I am still looking) ah one of our better rooms(found something) is the form OK then(hurry up) ah an unpronounceable name, born star-year 61542, planet zog, intergalactic diplomat, etc., well I suppose that is OK(isn't OK) would that be cash or credit card then(your credibility is zilch)..." the goblin looks out the window or at his watch. "...your room is 301 on the third floor, the lift is on your right(take your bags up yourself then) and have a nice day(out of my hair then), thank you(please)..."

the passing to the key to the alien signals the goblin's exit time where he, after saying goodbye to the alien, goes back to the station for his bicycle thinking "..well that was a right waste of time, suppose I'll go back to the cafe now and write something for my blog but that's the trouble with geneva, nothing ever happens here..."

[img]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/funny-santa-screenshot-2_zpsc423a8d3.jpg[/img]

repost from elsewhere, the goblin's journal

cold-spell casts geneva to fog, its gray somehow blurring into the blank and becoming an appropriate backdrop to this then: the goblin's D-day with the dentist, well not really, it's that first year dental student "... hi there, call me benny hill, please sit down, comfortable..." as he whips out a syringe with a smile and a style straight out Hitch****'s psycho shower scene "...now stay still, no need to clinch the chair tight like that, this will only take a moment...", smiles, looks puzzled, takes another look at the ex-ray, grasps the idea, nods his head, smiles again, stabs and injects "...there that wasn't too bad was it, now I am just going to clear out that cavity..." the goblin feels as if he is going very slowly up the highest roller coaster ride in his life, the student drills a bit, retracts to drill, makes golf swings in the air "...yes, like that I think, how am I doing..." the goblin dare not reply, he drills on "...rinse please mr. flea..." puts bibs and bobs the goblin's mouth, drills then whoops, out comes a small white gyrating object on the end of his drillhead "...whoops, sorry, we'll just put another cotton swab in then won't we...", but the goblin stupidly replies "... actually could we try a sandbag..." a joke which seems to earn him a gag they call a [i]dig[/i] but is in fact an ancient chinese water-torture where goblins slowly drown in their own saliva while probably singing to themselves "...o come all yee spacemen...", ride over, the goblin returns to reality whatever that ever was

[img]http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w295/crinny13/winner%20and%20throne/dentist-examination.jpg[/img]

from the goblin's blog

Months had passed since he had been here, the icons still played above the box to the droning of the computer and a long moment passed before the goblin could type on ever able to recall his mother passing though that cottage hospital to the merlin's cave, the place she waits her last out now, so a week from now the goblin would be back with his family looking for a job, the effort had saved the family thousands of pounds but the harsh pictures of old age remains vivid, the right thing had been done, the debt paid to his childhood, and by now a tree in the garden had began to tilt, unable to cut it down, the goblin had just pruned back as many of the branches as he could thinking that it would at least deny the wind its grip before the men would come to remove it. sighing "...well, I did my best to keep her standing..."

[img]http://www.writerscafe.org/uploads/rte/9ba3b9d4b910dbee1bbddac939da7418.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

"...the action is the reward in itself.." murmured the goblin while hotly rubbing the hand of his mother between his hands, mind you by now he could have said anything, she smiled like a baby, long and slow, then dad would hold the straw to her lips, a sip, encouraging words like "...have some more, you know the more liquid you drink the better...", a tissue wiped the spillage and straw was returned to her mouth and the action repeated as everyone knows nursing home are dry places, the goblin's mind raced back to hospital ward a few weeks before and the unvisited toothless twitching woman on the bed next to his mother's, just the nurse had come in to her with a cup of tea and a large needleless syringe and repeatedly squirted small amounts of the liquid from the cup into twitching woman's mouth, somehow they both seemed quite emotionless about it, and how it just grows normal in the end doesn't it

[img]http://unaffiliatedcritic.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/Miller-and-Maliaros.jpg[/img]

double post

from the goblin's blog

the goblin suspected that some posters here were not aware that the true function of this forum's navigation bar's was that of an embellishment to be admired rather than actually used, and like those buttons on the dashboard of the car or on the remote control too, they uplifted the user with the greater dimension of the endless possibilities that technology could offer one while remaining somehow too obscure for something as mundane as actual everyday usage, a conjecture reminding the goblin at this point of that childhood lessen bitterly learned on the quagmire of video recorder settings where those buttons seems to say "...touch me and you will not return...", but conversely, the goblin now lamented that his own quest for knowledge had turned magic into tricks, beauty into makeup, and paintings into calculated brush strokes, simply he wished the navigation bar to inspire him once more with greater buttons like "split the atom", "teleportation" and "converse with god" knowing that one's grasp should always be greater than one's reach, his reach being the "no, that's not right, why, how come, how does one get this thing to work" and then giving up somewhat belittled perhaps but ever remaining in aw of technology too

[img]http://i89.photobucket.com/albums/k226/beie636/hope_1024.jpg[/img]