Picture of the Day: Dead Horse, Brierley, Barnsley [2008]

Horse in a field
A horse in a field

Mrs Gnomepants v2.0 introduced me to a thing where whenever you see an animal in an old film, say older than 20 years, you point out to whoever is listening that the animal is dead now.

“But wait!” you say, “2008 is less than 20 years ago, ipso facto, you may be wrong if you’re about to say the horse in this picture is now the glue on the back of a stamp”. Ah but no. I know more than you….

Along the opposite side of the Lane with No Name to the houses were lovely undeveloped fields. Legend has it that this was the site of the former Brierley Colliery hence why no houses were ever built on it. Other tales and theories include a wealthy farmer buying the land for tuppence hapenny from the mine owners, an ancient covenant linked to Moses and aliens using it as a base to extract liver fat from rotund Yorkshire folk.

Regardless, in the field lived a couple of randy horses. Randy because one of them would be constantly trying to hump the other and would often make the most frightful noises. Today’s picture shows one of the horses.

Sadly, about a year after this photo was taken, some awful types poisoned the horse for some reason (Apparently this is a common thing to occur to horses according to a couple of horse owners I’ve spoken to since). But still, I was fond of the horse as it would often poke its head through the hedge to say hello when I was parking my car.

Picture of the Day: The Lane with No Name, Brierley, Barnsley (2008)

The Lane with No Name

I thought I’d resurrect this meme I started but didn’t finish last year again. Likelihood is I’ll probably do a few then stop again, but hey, I’m a busy badger these days what with all the zombie killing and space faring I’ve got going on.

Anyway, long term readers (hello if you’re still reading), will remember when I lived in Yorkshire, my house backed onto the fabled Lane-with-No-Name, an access route for brewery wagons making deliveries at the village working men’s club at the end.

As you may remember, the lane often featured in posts due to the hive of activities recorded on hidden CCTV cameras there – well, my webcam at least which I would place in the back bedroom window with motion sensing software recording any and all activity there.

Dodgy types those Yorkshire folks you know. They’d get up to all sorts of mischief all of which would be caught on my camera and discussed on Livejournal. — who could forget the timeless classics of G-the-Human-Dog having a crafty fag and weird badger thing…..

Badger? Cat? Snufflemonster?
Dodgy geezer smoking late at night. 604 views on Youtube. Wow!

Picture of the Day: The Green Man Of Brierley, Brierley, Barnsley, UK [2007]

Long term readers might remember Mrs Gnomepants V1.0 was a multitalented artist, but if you are new, this will probably be news.

This is the Green Man, taken today in 2007, which Mrs Gnomepants V1.0 sculpted out of clay for our second house, the one in Barnsley. It is a hollow plant pot holder with an entry on the top which you can’t see from this angle. We coated him in yogurt before putting him outside so that the moss would grow over his face.The idea was that he would age through time and become greener and greener with the moss and his ivy hair would  add to the effect.

I don’t know what he looks like now but I’m sure he’s doing well.

Picture of the Day: Load of Old Rhubarb – Brierley [2008]

Old Rhubarb

I love growing rhubarb me. I’m not overly keen on eating it, though I will, but I love growing it. 

My grandfather had a fine crop of rhubarb behind his greenhouse. My dad would often relate how he would have to go out with a bucket after the milkman’s horse so he could collect the manure for the rhubarb. He prefered custard though.

Today’s picture shows a crop grown from a head provided by old friend Carole. It has fired the rhubarb growing urge once more and, once I have a job, an income and allowed to go out, I intend to get a new head of rhubarb for our tiny garden. 

Picture of the Day – Desk of Hidden Objects, Brierley, South Yorkshire [2008]

Can you see the paperclip?

Randomly admist the photographs I often come across pictures of workspaces. It was often a meme on social media to upload a picture of your workspace for followers to see. In 2008 I was a full-time student, so this was my workspace in the back bedroom in my house in Brierley near Barnsley in South Yorkshire.

Today’s picture is also like one of those hidden object games which were popular around that time. How many objects can you see? Can you find the floppy disc? Can you see the Flexicurve? How about the USB vacuum cleaner?

Neighbours

Sometimes going outside of Gnomepants Manor is like running the gauntlet. A simple task, like mowing the lawn, popping the milk bottles out for the milkman, taking refuse out or a crafty smoke in the lane with no name can be fraught with obstacles.

Tomb Raider

Shock Brierley News

I interrupt my LJ abstinence to bring you some slightly smouldering news:-

At 15:30BST on Friday 25th July 2008 a van containing cylinders of acetylene “mysteriously caught fire” in the Hill Top area of Brierley (which is about 1km from Chez Gnomepants). Of course this being the middle of hicksville doesn’t account for spontaneous hydrocarbon combustion, as you shall see.

Upon the wife and my return from an evening out with the in-laws we were shocked to find a “large” area of Brierley cordoned off by old plod and the FyA boyz kReW. Indeed our diversion back through South Hiendley through to Shafton took us a fair way back on ourselves. (See here for cordon greenery). On investigation of the BBC News website we learned of the goings on.

(Friday’s newzz )

Saturday the area was still buzzing with Old Plod and da FyA Boyz Kr3w. Rumours were abound and curtains twitched with alarming regularity. People were still evacuated from their homes and even after our return from a day out to Goole (of all places) people were STILL out of their homes and da FyA BoyZ Kr3w were still round in their big red engines. Oh! What a sight to behold!

This morning local chins wagged further as news broke that Old Plod had arrested a 28year old woman on suspicion of having her arse on. Oh the scandal! Nothing this exciting has happened in Brierley since the church had it’s roof lead pinched.

(Saturday’z Newz)
(Sundayz Newz)

We now return you to the abstinence and the delights of Guestwriter.

Ten Reasons

 

Why I hate living in Barnsley  Why I like living in Barnsley
 I’ve been a victim of crime in the past  1  There are some good farm shops near by
 I’ve been abused in the streets by awful children  2  There is hardly any traffic
 There is an increased population of Neanderthalic people living near by who don’t give a fuck about their environment and 80% of them still think it’s the 1980’s  3  There are trees
Too many chavs – The youth have no prospects apart from getting pregnant and wearing Burberry  4  The fish and chips are damn fine
 Too many piss, smack and crack heads – I’m surprised I haven’t turned to drugs. It’s so depressing round here. 5  There are bees
 No prospects – Anyone that earns a decent salary commutes to Sheffield, Leeds or Manchester.  6  All my stuff is here
 If, in the unlikely event, I was to have children I wouldn’t want them to grow up round here  7  Erm
Public transport is shit – It can take an hour to travel 3 miles.  8  Oh er….
 I don’t know anybody – Even the people on my course don’t live near by. Everybody I do know lives miles away. 9  And…
 There is nothing to do  10  ….erm yeah that too.

Sleepses

So last night I donned my tartan pyjamas, picked up teddy and hopped into bed at a respectable hour as opposed to “ungodly o clock because Warcraft is addictive”. The reason behind the early night will become clear after the weekend (because I like to add a dash of mystery to my entries these days). Anyway, I had but just nodded off, the opening credits for the nights dreamingses were starting and went something like this:-

 

Stegzy Gnomepants Subconscious presents
A Stegzy Gnomepants Dream
Dreamed in GlorioustechnicolourAvril Lavigne

and The Tight fitting cat suited lesbian vampiresses with comedy inflatable breasts

In

Steamy Sex Orgies on Underground Trains Vs the Binbaggers and that woman with the green poison VIII

In soft focus

Avril Lavigne – Ooh Thelma Blair, Liv Tyler and Hayden Panettiere come and help me rub this olive oil into my pert nipples while I do rude things to Kirsten Dunst with this cucumber. You fuckin bastard I fuckin hate you you fucking cunty bastard sweary sweary bum bum

Shouty Man on street out side – You fucking bitch I fucking hate you I’m going to smack you yadda yadda yadda shouty shouty shouty

Back to real life with a start

At this point I woke up. Very annoyed. I mean just what rude things did she mean? What a point to start and end a dream! Vexxed and annoyance levels heightened by the fact that my bedside alarm clock revealed I had but been asleep for 20 minutes, I looked toward the window in response to the shouty man on the street outside who was still shouting, wtf was going on?

Shouty Man on street out side – I’m fucking gonna slap you just fuck off fucking fuck fuck fuck slap hurt bitch arrgh toilet roll fucking pot noodle
Shouty Woman – Just fuck off you fucker

By the window Mrs Gnomepants was peeping out down onto the street with all the subtlety of a flamboyance of flamingoes in a blizzard. I shuffled grumpily toward the window listening intently. There on the street was a car, the doors wide open and a rather shouty shouty man shouting at some woman, getting rather rough and slapping her about a bit. Obviously drunk (the police in South Yorkshire don’t give two flying fucks about rural drink driving so it is rife) the man was seriously and scarily shouting at everyone in the street that he had roused from their slumber, who had obviously also started to peep out of their bedroom windows, instructing them to “FOKIN MIND YO’ ORN FOKIN BIZNIS”. At which point I shrugged and thought well fuck it then, and climbed back into bed.

Mrs Gnomepants called the police. Not to inform them of my disinterest in local drunks fighting it out on the street, but because she was concerned that a woman had been assaulted (Believe me the woman was giving that bloke a better slapping than he was giving) and that there was a drunk driver on the street and could the police come. Shouty man and Shouty woman went separate ways, shouty woman headed towards Grimethorpe still shouting at shouty man even though shouty man had driven off noisily (and dangerously) toward Pontefract Road.

As I desperately tried to get back to the sticky girl on girl action in Dream Theatre, I could hear Mr Shouty Man squeeling about further up the road and Mrs Shouty Woman screeching like a banshee in the other direction.

Honestly, it’s people like that that give booze a bad name.

Eventually I nodded off:-

Avril Lavigne – (Licking buttercream off her fingers while zipping up the all in one tight fitting pvc catsuit over her rather curiously large voluminous comedy inflatable breasts) Right then Drew, Lets get him
Drew Barrymore – (Brandishing a rather large hypodermic syringe filled with green liquid) Ok but don’t forget to bring those bin bags

Bastards. I always seem to miss the best bits.

PIctuyraz

Some of you lot want to see the bathroom. So I’ve taken some pictures and plonked them here. Bear in mind that these pictures only show the fittings. At the moment there is no floor covering and the walls have yet to be painted (but I can’t start that until all the laundry and tidying has been done) and you’re not allowed to use the shower or sink or bath until tomorrow because the sealant needs 48 hours to set (yes I’m quite aware that 48 hrs have passed since the plumber left but Mrs Gnomepants has instituted an embargo on its use until tomorrow morning)

I can’t be arsed to tell you what the pictures show, so you’ll just have to pretend.