Babes, 'bikes and the end of the Froggyverse...

Greetings froggy fans from around the globe and Colorado.

Sorry for the long silence which I attribute to the humans and the move to a new lilypad- something they have yet to do due to lawyers pulling out excuses to charge more money by making the whole process like 'War and Peace' but with the Russians replaced by Orwellian clones on 'phones. You know the sort..."Press one for customer services, two for a lobotomy"...etc. Furthermore Windows Vista is a pain in what passes for a frog's bum as it keeps on crashing and losing the male human all of his contact info. Technology - Don't ya just love it?

So, what has your favourite green slimy bundle been doing? Well, November meant the return of the NEC Motorcycle Show which meant another bevy of scantily-clad beauties wanting their photograph taken with me. This year I will only publish one because (a) she is quite cute for a human, (b) I look good and (c) she actually had a personality and was polite to me. Here she is...

Also at the same show the humans and I were fortunate to meet up with Gary the Crazy Human who drove the support truck on my hop down Route 66 last year, or should I say the year before as it is now 2008. At the time Gary was yet to be adopted by a bear by the name of Bearnard (pause for a groan at the name...) so I had not met him before but this year both had been let out of Americky and through our borders to sell more 'bike related trips. Here is Bearnard with me and then me in the leather jacket Bearnard and Gary kindly bought for me...Please note the complete set of Route 66 badges...

Bearnard has completed 66 several times and more of his adventures can be seen on the following links:

www.bears-to-travel.blogspot.com and

www.myspace.com/bearnardbear

I feature a couple of times and so, (pause for echoy laughing cackle) the slow but sure take-over of the world by cute furry toys gathers pace. First the interweb, then Colorado, then Lilypad 101 followed by the world! We shall overthrow the tyranny of crazy Humans using us for, as the french say, 'object d'sex'. No more furry toy titillation for the nation!

Ohh. Errr. Sorry about that. Don't know what came over me...I guess I am just a little nervous after spotting this in a national newspaper...

"Disease threatens mass extinction of frogs...

An international campaign has been launched to help save the world’s amphibians from extinction.

Scientists fear the largest mass extinction since the disappearance of the dinosaurs because of a deadly disease which is sweeping through populations of frogs, toads, newts, salamanders and caecilians across the globe.

Amphibians are under threat.

Amphibians have thrived for hundreds of millions of years but as many as half of all species could perish unless a solution is found. The spread of the parasitic fungus amphibian chytrid, which has proved deadly for hundreds of amphibian species, may have been made worse by the effects of global warming. The disease has so far proved unstoppable in the wild and can kill 80 per cent of native amphibians within months once it has taken hold."

I hope this isn't my last blog...

Oh, both humans are doing well with the male one still not dead from the leukie stuff that is rattling around his bone-marrow.

Toodle-pip fans.

Kermy

XXXX

Say hi to the Hei people...

Greetings frog fans.

Just a short blog entry as I am still recovering from the Guinness-induced ten days I just spent in the land of the rising leprechaun, otherwise known as Ireland. Once my thoughts have, like Indian butter, clarified, (<---Joke for any chefs out there) I shall present a full report and photographs... Meanwhile may I introduce the Hei People who are members of an art installation here on Lilypad 101. The artist is some guy from Finland...Here they are.Yup. It looks like a crowd of 400 people, much like those scenes from the film The Wicker Man with that human actor Edward Windwoodwoodward, or something like that, just staring. They are a little creepy and I can hear you all thinking, 'What are they looking at? Well, this...

...the view across the 'Pad to the North. And may I have the pleasure of introducing to you Rock and Roll Loony party councillor and Friend of the Frog, 'Mad' Mike Young. He is the one on the left in case you are wondering...

He was mentioned in an earlier posting about a year ago when he was about to defend his record as World Walk-the Plank champion. Unfortunately his plans for a banana-powered rocket strapped to his back for this year's contest along with his suitably yellow outfit was only deemed good enough for second place. He is now back in his shed plotting for the next contest...For those that cannot resist a link check out http://www.captaincutlass.com/ for more on these crazies.

Oooh. I have just had an Ireland flashback...Guinness does strange things to the ol' botty.

Must hop froggy fans. More shortly.

Kermy

XXXX

Froggy birthday to me, froggy birthday to me...

...Yes, the 25th July was my birthday and I am now in double figures. Ahh I remember the days when I was just a tadpole in a very big pond and owning my own lilypad was a distant dream. Since then of course I have acquired a world-wide legion (or is that a lesion?) of fans and have, thus far, never had to experience something the humans call a 'bath'. I used to be a care free tadpole with no worries or commitments. Now I am just a 10 year old frog (10 in human years, that is) with no worries, commitments, sense of restraint, decorum, dodgy diseases that involve pustules or scabby bits nor am I shackled to anything. No mortgage to tie this amphibian down, although the humans are in the process of buying a new lilypad for me. I'm worth it!

Free spirit, that's me. Vodka, whiskey, gin. It the spirit is free then count me in.





I just looked at my passport on the page with the photographic i.d. Blooming hell I look young!

Right. I must hop. Somewhere out there is a bottle of jollop with my name of it.

Kerm

XXXX

ps: Send all gifts etc c/o Lilypad 101...

Pond ponderings...

May I begin this post by offering my most sincere (snigger, snigger) apologies for the lack of froggy updating that has been occurring of late. I have been suffering itchy flipper to get to the keyboard but as one has yet to be invented for use by the aforementioned flippers I have had to wait for the male-human to get off his backside (Which he occasionally does just before it emits a botty-burp...But I digress). The delay, dear reader, is due to the male having some kind of virus which he got rid of eventually but shared with the female human who returned it from whence it came in a slightly different strain. This meant several weeks without alcohol for the pair of 'em but c'est la vie as they say in Venezuela when they speak French.


So, I have had several weeks to ponder all sorts of odd stuff and play couch-frog in front of the TV. My first pondering stems from an advert for some human called Sarah Jessica Parker (or is it Porker, I'm not too sure). Anyway, she is trying to flog her perfume with the line, "Feel good on the inside and smell lovely on the outside." or something vaguely similar. Can't these advertisers be more honest. Surely, "Okay on the inside and looking like a dog on the outside" is a tad more honest. I mean, how did this long-faced streak of American misery ever think she was attractive? Here is what attractive really looks like...




Yes, it's me sans dickie-bow tie at the humans' wedding in my senior position as Best Frog and yes, I am aware of how ravishing I look...

So, keeping with the American theme, I hold the Yanks responsible for two other annoyances which were spotted whilst on my enforced sojourn on the couch. Firstly, why can't the Americans pronounce the word 'harassment' properly? The stress is on the first syllable, 'har', and not the second, 'ass'. Even more irritating is that the BBC is beginning to pronounce it the American way. The same goes for the number after nineteen. Should anyone from Americky or the Beeb be reading this high quality blog then please note the number is 'twenty'. See. Quite simple to read and say. IT IS NOT 'TWENNY'!

How about a couple of modern-day oxymorons? Rap music. When was rap ever music. Some (invariably) coloured gentleman or lady talking over a computer-generated backing track about the hard life they lead whilst fleecing gullible teenagers of their hard-earned readies to fund lavish lifestyles filled with badly dressed ho's (the modern vernacular, I believe) and tasteless lumps of gold strapped to themselves. A definition of 'bling': It is what morons call jewellery.

Oxymoron number two: Next year Liverpool is the European City of Culture. Methinks you would find more culture in a 3 month old lump of Rocquefort cheese. Liverpool gave us the Beatles and I still haven't forgiven them for that. What can the city have that could be considered as 'cultural'? A high ratio of car-thieves? That strange unintelligible accent? I don't get it.

Okay, my final whinge of the post; Australians. Been there, nice country, nice people, not bad at sport and rather out-going. Here's me at their zoo in Sydney...















But why oh why after all their sporting successes have they yet to devise a new chant. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie. Oi. Oi. Oi., is lame and boring. Surely the land that produced Rolf Harris and Dani Minogue could do better than that?


Wow. I feel quite worn out after that. Time for a slurp of some plonk from my own personal vineyard...Presenting Le Froglet wine...



Those with a keen eye will note the gold-embossed silhouette of yours truly on the label. As my fame precedes me I have also been offered the chance to have a photograph taken on the set of the next Harry Potter film. I'll let you know...

G#.

On that note, I bid thee adieu, frog fans.

Kerm
XXXX

I think I'm becoming a pandemic...

...'cos I have people from all over the global pond asking after me. Okay, 3 people then. One is one of those number-crunchy accountant types, one is an acquaintance from Americky and the other is the rather salubrious and dapper naked Financier from old Auckland town. All are asking after my well being and if I plan to hop anywhere in the near future so, as my dad (whoever he was) once croaked, "If they want it, give it to 'em. Hard an' slimy."

Actually, I haven't do to much lately, just slobbing about awaiting summer and return of all those delicious flies. (As the song goes, "I've got a tongue that's 10 inches long and I've learnt to breath through me ears"). Just one trip sticks out in my vast amphibious head...I was invited to the opening of an art exhibition!. Well, it wasn't actually me but the female human's ex work colleague's girlfriend that did the inviting. Following this?

The artist in question can be found at www. charlotte-baynes.com. She is based in Cadiz (pronounced "Cadith") tho, I mean so, her art has a heavy Spanish influence. On the opening night she brought over a troupe/gang/harem (not sure of the collective noun here) of flamenco dancers to set the mood. Here's one of the senorita's doing her thing...

No, my flipper wasn't shaking, she was fast!

Naturally they all wanted to meet good ol' Kerm and requested a picture of me with them. Here I am being cradled lovingly by the artist herself...oh, and the lingo was no problemo, Jose as I taught myself how to say "Yes love, they are a cracking pair of maraca's"

Yes, we had a very good night, me and the dancers, although it was rather warm under all those lights and I was sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish shop. Still, one must sometimes suffer for one's art, I suppose.

I'm not sure where I will be hopping next, apart from Ireland in August. The 'uman beans are discussing Borneo as I think the female would like to swap 'him' for one of those orangy-tangy primate thingy's. Personally I would be amazed if she gets more than a bag of spanners for him. Perhaps we can get the Naked Financier to meet us halfway and, given his usual state of dress (or should I say undress) all we would need to do is fashion a loin-cloth by stapling a napkin to Jim and the twins and the locals will think he is a Sarawak tribesman.

Right must hop now 'cos me favourite soap opera is on (Frogoration Street).

Stay cool dudes and duds and anybody called Granny Mildew...

Kerm.

XXXX

p.s The male human's leukie count has dropped by a lot from 0.641 to 0.017. So, still not dead yet so I guess I will cancel the hearse...See ya later if I don't see you first!

Plastic Paddies of the world unite...to be sure, to be sure...

...to be fake.

Conas atá tú?

Which is Gaelic, apparently, for "How are you?"

Yes my legion of amphibious admirers it is St Patrick's Day yet again so no doubt we will have a plethora (now there is a big word for 7a.m. on a Saturday morning) of humans pretending to be Irish. The female human here is 100% Irish, has the passport and the birth certificate to prove it and not only kissed the Blarney Stone but swallowed it. She is, therefore, in a good position to know a Gaelic pretender when she sees one which, when she has, she declares to be a 'plastic paddy'. Or, in the great Monty Python tradition (and lovingly adapted from the Dead Parrot sketch), plastic paddies are quack, phoney, dud and bereft of any shamrockyness. Add to that the 30% of Americans that will proudly say they are Irish when only about 5% of 'em qualify for an Irish passport and that is a lot trickery fakery.

I, as I sit here flapping my flippery bits over the keyboard and listening to groovy tunes on my i-pad (spot the play on words with i-pod here. Good, huh?!), am not so sure of my origins as it is hard to trace a froggy familial line when your mother spawns several thousand tadpoles at a time. However, I thank that maybe today and for one day only I can claim to be 'Irish'. This I can do for two reasons. The most obvious is that I am green. Anyone who as hopped into Ireland as I have several times will know that it ain't called the Emerald Isle for nought. Secondly, I have been sent a St Patrick's Day card with my picture on it. Here it is for your perusal and amusement...

A very good likeness, I think you will agree. It was made by a very good friend of the humans, Pennie. Cheers Missus! And here is a photograph of me actually in my natural habitat in Ireland checking for flies and any other tasty snack that may fly by.

Ahh, life does not get much better than that. Sunshine, running water and insects al-fresco. Perfect!

Tonight we are (if I can sneak into the female human's handbag) meeting with other genuine Irish people for a beer or seven. Guinness is GBP2.00 a pint tonight so I may get a little wobbly on the flippers later. I'll let you know...Until then frog-followers I am off for breakfast of the English kind. You know, eggy, bacon, sausage and stuff with a topping of lightly grilled blue-bottle. Yum!

Bain taithneamh as an deireadh seachtaine. (Enjoy the weekend).

Sláinte

Kerm

XXXX

It's not easy being green...

...that is if you listen to all the doom-and-gloom global warming merchants that currently infest all of our news/radio/and interweb lives. Sitting here on my lily-pad I can easily dip the old flipper into the pond to literally 'test the waters'. Well, the H2O ain't any hotter or colder than a few years ago and the level has definitely not risen, I can still toe-dip the sludgy mud at the bottom.

And I am not sure about news reports that constantly go on and on about climate change. Does anyone else remember when what is now called' climate change' was once known by its more honest name 'The Weather'. Whenever warming is mentioned it is always in conjunction with the phrase 'since records began' here in England. The bit that the powers-that-be omit is the second half of that sentence, namely '...350 years ago' which, funnily enough, is known to be the time of the last mini ice-age Europe experienced.' What is wrong with these numpties? We are coming out of an ice-age so is it really a surprise that the planet is getting warmer? Recently the BBC had a report on the amount of ice breaking loose from the North and South Poles, the latter over-sized ice cubes daring to float up past New Zealand. Ice-shelves are collapsing all over if you believe the media but then, they always have. Ice-bergs have been around for thousands of years. They are nothing new! If it wasn't for an iceberg Kate Winslett would never have got her Oscar nomination! Palmer Peninsula in Antarctica is getting warmer but the main body of ice is getting cooler. The ice covering Greenland is getting thicker. Scientists have pinpointed 33 times when ice shelves have increased and retreated and will probably find more as they research more. Friends of the Earth blame humans and claim man is at fault. Friends of Science, a similar group but with solid facts and intelligence state that receding glaciers and calving of ice shelves aren't proof of global warming.


Apparently January 2007 was the second warmest January since, you guessed it, records began...The coldest being in January 1916. The logical line of enquiry for this is to ask what the hell humans were doing in 1916? No doubt the proliferation of gas-guzzling cars, millions of diesel-powered lorries and CFCs from all the refridgerators at the time were to blame...All that and WW1 too. Just to prove how hot it is here is a photo of me taken on the 8th of February during the current heatwave.



I can tell you, my chestnuts weren't roasting that day.

Scientists will tell anyone that will listen that a cow's bottom burp (aka fart, fluff, bum-squeak) is 17 times more potent as a greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. Anybody killing the estimated 1.3 billion cows? Do people actually ask what catalytic converters on cars actually convert to make emissions better for the planet? No? Well, they take carbon monoxide from the engine and convert it into carbon dioxide, our favourite greenhouse gas!

The government and a few companies are cashing in on our carbon flipper-print if we fly anywhere. "Give us a bit more of your hard-earned readies"' they say,"and we will off-set you emissions." So what do they do. Plant trees. Trees are good at taking carbon from the air so it is imagined that this is a good thing. Fast forward 200 years and, assuming the tree has not been felled by a Pythonesque lumberjack in suspendies and a bra, the tree will die and rot and put carbon into the atmosphere. Even if humans chop it down before that the chances are the tree will eventually be burned giving off...I'll let you fill in the gap. The highest proportion of gases come from rotting vegetation so perhaps we should destroy all the rain forests along with the cows.

Has anyone ever seen an unbiased balanced news report on global warming? Recently a major UK news channel sent a team to the South Pole to report on the nasty deeds of humankind. Needlessly to say they flew there but on the first day the reporter, with a sound-man and three scientists sped by an iceberg in a dirigible. Seconds later a big chunk if ice fell off of the 'berg. "That", said the reporter rather smugly," is evidence, if you need it, of global warming in action." No it isn't you great dozy excuse for a human! All that proved was that you had destroyed a piece of iceberg with your boat's wash by flying by at a great rate of knots whilst shoving diesel fumes into a pristine atmosphere just so as you can get a story.

Most agree that we should be nicer to our planet but all this bad information drives this frog crazy. Recycling good, Al Gore scare-mongering bad. Okay?!

The frog has now left the soap-pad (Amphibious version of a soap-box).


I feel better for that...time for a few flies...


Stay cool gang
Kerm
XXXX

According to the Doctors I should be dead by now...

...Fortunately it appears they have got it wrong. Yes, it was Feb 4th 2004 when the medico's kindly advised that in a worse-case scenario I had 10 months to live (cancel me Christmas pressie mother!) or at best (snigger, snigger) 3 years. Those that are quick of brain may have already calculated that my three years is up today. Those that dabble in financial jiggery-pokery may struggle with the maths (Translation for any Americans reading this:maths = math) so to explain: today, according to the docs and consultants, is my last day on earth prior to whichever ponderous purgatory devout atheists go to. Of course there is a smidgen of a chance they are right and that when I wake up tomorrow morning I won't, if you get my drift. How will I know? So tonight, being Sunday night, we shall nosh on fine, dead NZ lamb with various vegetables (no, not Tony Blair, proper vegetables) and potatoes with a nice dessert/pudding washed down with a bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape.

And life gets better (just before my apparent demise...)

Latest leukaemia counts are...

Bone marrow (ie; out of the pelvis by drilling) : 0.083
Peripheral blood (ie; Out of the arm) : 0.641

For those that are confused let me elucidate...The amount of dodgy leukie cells in blood and marrow are still in decline and I am in danger of establishing what the experts call 'a trend'. This may well be the first and perhaps only time if I am shortly to depart this mortal coil that I can be considered to be 'trendy'. All bodes well that shortly I shall achieve 'molecular remission' which means leukie has been battered so hard that, although we know it is there, the best test available cannot locate it. Good, huh?

Oh, here is a gratuitous photograph of Kermit for his fans. He is browning his green bits on a sun-lounger in the Netherland Antilles (Just a 50 mile hop North of Venezuela)...

Yes. We know he is topless. And bottomless. He knows no shame, our frog.

So, now it will be eight weeks until the next armful of blood is extracted and the next results due. Fingers crossed!

Yours, still not dead. Yet.

Paul C, Sun-soaked Sheppey

XXXX

Happy birthday to me and Happy New Year to you...

...Yes it finally happened and I am now 40 years old (although I will always be twelve in my head). We passed a nice and relaxed Christmas which began with a nice meal on Christmas Eve in our favourite restaurant. Apparently we 'spotted' two alleged personalities (I dislike the word 'celebs' as it denotes people who are as a rule famous for doing nothing of note). I say apparently 'cos I am still not sure who one of them was. Kelly Brook, reasonably attractive and not very literate T.V. wallah here in Blighty and some film star called Billy Zane. Can't say I have ever heard of him but wifey says he was in the film 'Titanic' as Kate Winslett's betrothed. Was he any worse than Leonardo Can'tactio? Do I care? Will I notice him if we meet again? Probably as much as he would notice me...

Christmas Day. A nice quiet family-free one which was spent with our neighbours for a couple of hours in a nearby drinking establishment followed by more wine and choccie until we passed out on the couch for a snooze (not with our neighbours, of course,. we are not that close!) Kermit took advantage of our slumbers to try and scale the Christmas tree as he thought he had spotted a solitary foil-encrusted chocolate halfway up. We caught him in the act...

Boxig Day (St Stephen's Day if you are of an Irish persuasion) was again quiet as we did nothing more than indulge in more food and a bottle of Vino Collapso.

29th December - My 40th Birthday! Trish had arranged for a trip on the London Eye, something we had never done as she is not a fan of heights. I keep telling her she should be more frightened of depths...To the right the frog gets his leg over above London with the Houses of Parliament in the background and Trish poses in front of the aforementioned Eye, wearing it like a halo..

Just to the right of Kerm is Downing Street, home to our very own War-monger in Chief. Tony B.liar. He was, of course, out on another freebie holiday.

Pressie's, I got a few...A nice shiny new genuine Mont Blanc watch, advanced motorcyle training and all sorts of stuff including a bone and a courgette from that very nice Mr Steele and Lady Helen of Vigo. It took a while to work this one out but I did put on my Santa List that I would like (Children Take Note -'Like' and not 'want') bone marrow so I guess a a courgette will suffice for now as it is the same family horticulturally speaking. As the consultant said I could be drug-free over the Christmas/Birthday/New Year period whisky was back on the menu so we invested in a 16 year old Islay malt called Lagavulin. With the assistance of our trusty neighbours it did not last too long. After this we staggered to the pub, got more leg-less, had a dance (something I never do sober!), met Mike who shares the same birthday and cringed as Trish acquired the singer's microphone and warbled out something or other. Not sure what it was but it cleared the bar...

New year? Probably an early night until all those b£*&^%d fireworks start at midnight. A prosperous 2007 to all and to the muppet that scratched a key down our new car last night - A thousand nasty diseases on you and may scabs and pus-filled boils forever grow on your genitals.

Happy New Year!

Paul, Trish and Kermit

XXXX

Merry Frogmas to all...

Morning froggy followers.

It's been a while since my last posting but I have been a tad busy what with sleeping, slurping, sloshing, Irish weddings and, of course, Crimbo. So, where to begin...

Early November myself and my humans took themselves off to Ireland (flights 17 and 18 of this year) to the wedding of the female human's brother in Sligo. They found a nice hotel. Here is your amphibious bundle of green checking ot the view...

The mountain is callen Benbulben or something and beyond it is the Atlantic and then next stop Americky.

Naturally the bride and groom insisted I was made best frog for the event and pleaded and begged to have their picture taken with me. The groom is on the right...not sure if he was still sober at this point though...

We (the humans and I) even managed to go a bit cultural and took a drive out to the Lake of Inishfree where W.B. Yeats apparently did most of his scribing. As you can see from the photograph below it was raining rather heavily and this frog does not like too much water. Still, I look cool with the Isle of Inishfree in the background. The humans got a bit of a soaking too but that was just an excuse to go back to the hotel and consume hot port and whiskey. Also, the wedding went well (if you discount the groom setting fire to himself the night before) and a good time was had by all. Froggy good fortune to the happy couple!

Whilst sat at the airport in Shannon the humans rather sadly calculated that they had flown 40,000 miles and spent something like 60 hours in airports. Serves 'em right, I say.

Right, I'm off to eat the choccies on the tree. More tomorrow lilypad-lovers.

Kerm.

XXXX

This is not me...

It appears I have a rather randy clone trying to pass itsself off as me. I wish to state publicly that this is NOT me and I do not s**g bunnies. Sheep are much easier to catch and more useful for the post-coital Sunday roast and winter jumper...





Thank you.

Kermit
XXXX

On yer 'bike...

And so it came to pass that the humans decided to wake me up at 05:30 and drag me to the National Exhibition Centre in Birmingham which is about 150 miles north of my trusty lily-pad. Naturally, due the shortness of my green but perfectly formed leggies motorcycling and I are not familiar bed-fellows. I do, however, get regularly thrown into the pannier or rucksack and taken places, in this case the NEC. The humans were apparently hunting for a new leather jacket for him and a new crashy-helmet for her. Why do they call it a crash-helmet when that is the last thing you would want to do in it. 'Tis a bit like having a 'near-miss'. Surely a near-hit is more truthful? Discuss...

The humans rather embarrasingly were dragged up onto a stage to play something called the Yes/No game in which they had questions fired at them but could not answer 'yes' or 'no'. The female lasted 28 seconds and the male 14. Pathetic. So, they blew the chance of a free pair of Dunlop tyres - GBP200.00 (USD USD360.00, NZD480). S'okay though as the male only uses Bridgestones.

They went to see this machine. 1400cc and 170 (270 kmh) should be fast enough. Also me and Mrs Froggy can have some horizontal samba in those large panniers. Ride me baby!


They also saw this...

Italian, so it will probably break down often and you may notice that there is no perch for the female so I think this is a non-starter.

So, after dragging me around various stands and stalls things began to look up when I saw and met these fine specimens:

Then, just when I thought things couldn't get any better I met this fine wench...

She was okay but I have had to conceal her 'phone number from Mrs Froggy...

A fine day was had by all, including the neighbour who did the driving. Thanks Bruce! More tomorrow fans. I am knackered and need sleep.

Tata- for now.

Kerm.

XXXX

Hair of the frog...

Wow!

Where did that last month go? The last thing I remember was stumbling into the back garden of the humans after a 'GOOD RESULT' knees-up and now I seem to have mislaid the end of September and half of October. Oh, and I am getting flash-backs of semi-filled sick bags. Hmm...

Still, the show must go on. Fortunately that hammer is gone from my head and I have regained my taste for beer...

This was apparently taken during the missing month but I am buggered if I can recall drinking it, which is a shame 'cos it is the best ale in the world. Made locally by Shepherd Neame Breweries (who are the oldest brewers in the UK : Est 1698) Late Red is made from the last of the hops. Luvverly jubberly!

Of course, somewhere in the month I managed to fit in a 4 day break with the male human and his biker buddy, Phil 'Who stole my arse' Hills. Here is me in Weymouth Harbour in the South West of Blighty and Mr Hills. No, it is not a trick, his head really is as big as his 'bikes top-box...

As if that wasn't enough travelling the 'umans then dragged me 300 miles north to Manchester for some leukaemia conference. Honestly, I have been up and down like a bride's nighty lately, and I can't remember a bloomin' thing about it! Still, here is your favourite amphibi-god at Old Trafford...

Beckham? Could have taken him with the flipper-over whilst at the same time showing Keane what hard was!

Now, just when I am back to some kind of normality I find out that next Friday I am being dragged (okay, I want to go) to the Motorcycle Show in Birmingham where, if lucky, I will get a photo taken with some of the MCN babes. They won't be able to help themselves. After that we are flying again! I make it flight number fourteen of this year, which reminds me, I haven't show you me passport yet. More stamps than a philatelic orgy! Soon, munchkins, as soon as the male human gets his finger out.

Well, must hop. Beer to dri.., er, sample.

Kermit

XXXX (<--- One for each cheek).

A drug a day keeps the leukie away (I hope)...

So, we finally received the results from the hospital and for the fourth time in a row (or is it third?) and the amount of leukaemia in this knackered old body is on the run. To paraphrase Corporal Jones of 'Dad's Army' fame, "They don't like it up 'em." We are heading back to a stage called molecular remission, which is not like the normal remission people know but means that the best test available cannot detect anything at molecule level.

The test, called a Polymerase Chain Reaction test, or PCR for short takes a hunk of my bone-marrow (which ain't nice) and cells are grown in a lab. The test is capable of testing up to around a million cells and the result in this case is shown as a percentage of good stuff to bad stuff. Obviously the lower the percentage the better. It also indicates that the lower the leukie can be kept the less the chance of it progressing onto the next stage. Oh. You want the result? Okay...


0.083%!

Good, huh? I guess I may live a little longer, which would be useful as I have just signed up to do (and paid lots of money for) a 5 year English Langauge/Literature Honours Degree Course. Should be fun. Presumably now I am to be a student I can shower once a fortnight, grow my hair and get cheap beer in a bar...Hang on, I'm am almost grown-up so can do that anyway. Beer leads me onto...the frog.

Yes, frog fans, despite Trish and I attendng the annual Hop Festival in Faversham this weekend because of the drugs I was unable to imbibe, restricting myself to a couple of pints of Spitfire our little green amphibian did the partying for me. I am afraid to say his Bacchanalian side was let loose and he fell from his mighty lily-pad with an almighty 'PLOP' and discovered dark and murky depths not seen since Dante's Purgatorio. (Sorry, I feel the need to make these classical references now I a student). Not only did he have to be physically restrained from the nearest pole-dancing club (he can't even dance) his current missus, Kermeeta, has him firmly in the dog-house. Kermit suspects that she is nagging him but fortunately he cannot hear her as some b£"&^%£d is banging a drum between his non-existent froggy ears. (Anyone know of any good frog hangover cures?)

He eventually hopped back to base around 3am on Sunday morning and we found him in the back garden looking like this...

Not only did he down a bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape but managed to neck a bottle of pure Polish vodka and half a flagon of Potcheen and , yes, he is still feeling rather delicate. I think you will agree he deserves all he gets...

Must rush, Kerm needs another sick-bag...

XXXX

This is the l closest I'm gonna get to a bath...

...pond-induced frolics exluded, of course!

Good afternoon froggy fans the world over. Been rather busy of late doing nothing in particular but finding time to do nothing else. Last weekend we took a spin down to Bath which, as I am sure you will know is so named 'cos the Romans had baths there on the site of a naturally heated spring. Here is me taking a look but not taking a dip...

Shortly after this I was approached by two female Japanese humans who were obviously taken by my come-hither slimy style. Below is my female human and her good friend Pennie doing some silly human stuff...

The humans and I spent a nice weekend with these other humans and went to a rather strange place caled Rode which is a small village just outside Bath. The village has no churches as 3 witches covens apparently put a curse on the land in the 17th century, therefore all religious establishments are outside of the boundaries. Oh, and there are still 3 witches covens in the village. I just hope they have moved on from 'wing of bat, eye of newt' and various froggy body parts.

Next week is earmarked (what are ears?) for a trip across to France on the motorbike. I suspect I will lurk in the back-pack knowing what the Gallics might do to my legs...

Ribbity croakery to all.

Kermy

XXXX

Falling in love is hard on the knees...

...so sang Aerosmith. Well, so is rolling around garage cleaning the motorbike.

Today I went to the hospital, again. This time to give more blood and to obtain a matching needle wound on my right arm to match the left, which is still black and blue from last Wednesday's assault. Or as today's nursey put it,

"Bloody 'ell. What did they use? A mallet and a knitting-needle?"

Today's hospital visit was of course a precursor to tomorrow's visit to get results of liver tests and all that malarkey. Oh well, I'm not dead yet...On the same vein (pause for groans) a though crossed my mind today. Quickly I plugged a finger into each ear so as it could not escape and then I examined it. Carefully. Yup, definitely one of mine. It was this: If I were sad and stupid enough to be a drug addict then the State would give me freee methadone or whatever I needed. (Since when did giving another version of the same drug stop addiciton. Anybody?) If I were unlucky enough to be diabetic all my prescriptoins would be free but, as I only have leukaemia (with no cure so far) I have to pay for my medication. As Terry Wogan says, is it me?

Her Royal Trishness meanwhile has been muttering about wanting to go on holiday. Morocco and Vietnam have been mentioned. I think she has morphed in to Judith Chalmers but, whilst thumbing through various photographs I think I have found out her plans....




















On the left is Trish with 2 policemen 11000 feet up in the Andes. On the right she is with 2 more Rozzers on Santa Monica Pier at the end of our Route 66 jaunt. Methinks she has a uniform fetish...

One last thing before I dash off to watch 'Emmerdale'. Next Sunday is the day of the International Walk-the-Plank Championships. Our good friend and very nice chap Mad Mike Young is hoping to win the title for the third time in a row. Queenborough Harbour is the place to be. Not sure what he has planned for this time but an inflated crocodile and winged boots have been mentioned.

Toodle pip peoples.

Froggy will return tomorrow...

Paul and Greebo the Wonder Cat
XXXX

There's a hole in my pelvis, dear Liza, dear Liza...

A very good evening from the movie-icon bereft island that is Sheppey. Okay, so Michael Crawford, he of Frank Spencer fame was created here but we don't like to talk about that. Instead let me tell of the fun day I had in London yesterday...One bone-marrow biopsy completed with minimum fuss. So painless was it that I barely felt the anaesthetic needle go in, although I was aware that it went in a bloody long way and the old botty is a little sore today. A few bits of blood and bone-marrow juice made a feeble attempt to dribble onto the operating couch but as I was bum first towards the man fortunate to stare at my rear end for 20 minutes I missed it all. Bum-cracks lead me, of course, to the man in the pictures below...

We met him in Adrian, Texas, during our Route 66 expedition in the Midpoint Cafe. Adrian is exactly 1139 miles from Chicago and 1139 miles from Los Angeles. As we sat in a diner slurping a coffee (cawfee!) I noticed this man had a hole in the back of his shirt between the shoulder blades showing off a tattoo. He caught me looking and proceeded to show us that he had all of the Route and landmarks tattooed over his bod. I know, you are asking, why the link between the bum-crack line at the end of the last paragraph and this chap. Weeeeelll, we did wonder, but did not ask, where he had the Grand Canyon on his map...Think about it!

There was a bit of good news from the hospital visit insofar as the armful of blood drawn in a rather vampire-ish manner in April was tested by a method known as F.I.S.H. (Fluoresence In-Situ Hybridisation (You will all know leukamia terminology by the time I have finished with you!) This takes 20 cells and tests for the translocated chromosomes (9 and 22 if you are interested) that cause all the problems. Well, all 20 came back leukie free and are hopefully a good indication for the big results due in 2 weeks time following yesterday's extraction.

To continue the 'Only in America' theme herewith are some pictures of the Cadillac Ranch in Texas. It became obvious to us as we rode across America trashing the ozone layer on our big Harley that 'Only in America' wasn't a joke and that Americans appear to have no concept of taking their old cars to a scrapyard. The pop-art financier that owns this lot decided to make space by burying them nose first into the ground. People then came from far and wide and left their mark by spraying or signing them, as we did.

Over the next couple of weeks we shall be putting a few pictures onto previous postings so as some may actually make sense.

Now, as some once said (Samuel Pepys, methinks) "And so to bed."

I need a holiday...

Good morning frog-fans from a worn out Kermy.

I've not been back two weeks and I feel like I need another holiday. Jet-lag does not sit well with this amphibian: If I was meant to fly then the great lilypad-sitter in the sky would have designed me with a built-in air-hostess to ease away the stress of getting through Customs. I mean, what is it with humans and stuffed toys, not that I consider myself as such. I must have been x-rayed more times than George W. Bush has mispronounced 'newkleer' and all because it is assumed I may be a drugs mule. Do I look like a bleedin' donkey?

Anyway, as expected the myriad fans that were well met on my global gambolling have been pushing for a few insights into my trip and a few pictures of my slimy but Adonis-like frame. Okay, just one person then, and he is from Auckland and may not count seeing as he is a financial 'guru' and maybe, just maybe, one dodgy chicken drumstick short of a vomit. So below are a few choice snaps of my adventures...


















Above (bored yet?) we have myself posing by the Prince of Wales geysers at Whakarewarewa Geothermal Valley just outside Rotorua town, NZ. Lots of bubbly mud stuff and very hot under flipper, so hot in fact that at one point I became concerned that my legs might cook. That added together with the fact that you never know when a frog-leg eating Gaul may appear kept me moving. (Apparently, I taste like chicken...)

The mugshot below is me again on the shores of Lake Rotorua, NZ. I am practising this pose in the hope that Huge Huffner may call and want me to be centre-fold in Play-frog.

The humans seems to have recovered and are going about there business, she working from home, he riding the motorbike. Tomorrow is bone-marrow biopsy day for the male human so flippers crossed it doesn't hurt too much. He can't decide which will be worse, the procedure, having to endure a British Rail train journey back from London with a hole in the pelvis or Trish driving the last 10 miles back to Croaky Heights. I will update...

A big ribbit to David and Heather (and the Quinlets), Anne and Marlene (working hard in Tassy and Sydney) , October and Ed (Just departed Fiji).

More pics Thursday if the male can sit down comfortably.


Kerm
XXXX

Sheppey, Sheppey...

...doesn't quite have the same ring as New York, New York but then again New York doesn't have sheep, Mr Steele and the Brambledown Farm shop.

Every other advert on NY telly is for a fast food outlet and finding a place that actually sells fresh veggies is a nightmare. In the last week we have had one piece of broccoli each and the bit I had I stole from Trish's plate when she was slurping some wine and staring out of the window.
Broccoli reminds us, of course of the great (but not late) Mr David Quinn, Kiwi extraordinaire, the bowel-buggered financial whizz of old Auckland town. This guy takes no s@#t, but then again can't seemingly give it either. Imodium. Don't you just love it? Let us know when the Porsche arrives Sir David and we will nip over for a test drive. Trish sends a big hug to Heather (Auckland Shopaholic of the Year), Ella (A young lady that lunches) and Jake (Probably the only sane family member). I am beginning to suspect that Heather has already led Trish astray... Left, Auckland and right,New York. Over-priced rubbish.





















We found a few Link Wray CD's here but unable to raise Mr Steele to see which he wanted. We also found a BLT for Anthony (Trish's brother), but temptation took over. It was very nice...

ANNICE! Trish says "You are not getting your hands on my new shoes but if you save enough money I will take you shopping." Annice, I have a pair of very smelly, round-the-world trainers to which you are welcome...

Thanks to all who left abuse/messages, particularly Steeley and Mrs Martins, who has a porch, but no porsche. Greetings to Soxy and the gang.

Anne and Marlene (The Kath and Kim of Tas) we trust all is well and being back to work is fun...

To all we have missed out, sorreee... This blog will remain open and in the next few weeks photographs will be posted for your amusement. (Except the David Quinn pictures which will be posted at www.naked-financier.co.nz).

Taxi to JFK arriving shortly so we must sign off now. Speak from England.

Paul, Trish and Froggy
XXXX

I'm an Englishman in New York...

...So said Sting.

Well folks, this is probably our last blog from the current holiday. Boo hoo! I gave in on Thursday so Trish and I went shopping (again) up and down 5th, 6th and possibly 7th Avenue. I can't actually remember, so many shops so little interest...Trish however had a great time and found her shopping nirvana in a shoe shop that was having a stock clearance. Fortunately she was able to curtail her urges and bought only 2 pairs after I tactfully pointed out that we had a luggage weight limit to consider. We sat in the 80F heat in Bryant Park and watched the locals play pentanque (boule to us), strolled, ate at a classic diner where that ugly wench, Sarah Jessica Parker shot some TV series or other. (Lucy knows which one). In fact, we may have sat in exactly the same seat, but I did not sniff so cannot confirm.

To get over the stress of shopping (men ain't designed for that) we went back to the comfort and air-con of the hotel for a couple of hours snooze before heading off in to the night to see The Producers on Broadway. Very funny, fast show and thoroughly enjoyable. We began the show sat next to a rather portly American chap who, whilst very smartly dressed and well-spoken, seemed to be wearing eau de whiskey. In the first 10 minutes he kept laughing at the wrong bits and stayed silent during the hilarious parts. Halfway through the first act he got up to go (presumably) to the little boys room and completely missed the doorway, walking in to the framework, only to reappear 10 minutes later, sit down and fall asleep, snoring quietly.

Walking down Madison (As Kirsty MacColl sang) late at night was a bit creepy. There are some weird people here... such as me doing silly stuff in front ofthe flat-iron building.


Friday dawned, still sunny and therefore still bloody hot (90s) and we elected to take the subway to the American Natural History Museum. We were not sure what to expect but should have taken heed when the lady selling us tickets asked if we liked boring museums. She was not wrong. Badly planned with even worse signage meant we walked in circles quite a lot. We yawned our way through the life-size plastic whales/sharks in the oceanic section (saw real ones in Sydney), dozed through the volcano/geo-thermal exhibit (saw the real thing in New Zealand) and didn't ooh and aahh and the Pacific peoples bit 'cos, you guessed it, we met real ones. It made us realise how lucky we were to have done and seen so much.

Everywhere we went had an eating area, surely America's second favourite pastime after baseball and a museum shop. Trish bought me a real metallic green chafer bug encased in aspic or something...After taking about 15 minutes trying to find our way out we hit the heat again and took a stroll through Central Park. Strange park. Full of roads and houses. We ended the evening by going back to Broadway to see Spamalot. Ya gotta see this one! Extremely funny and well put together. The opening song was even about me, the title being 'I'm Not Dead Yet'. There was even a Mad Mike look alike who stole the show. Spamalot hits London in September. Get tickets.

On Saturday we headed out to Trish's old stomping ground of Port Washington, Long Island which is about 45 minutes outside NY by train. It has been 16 years since she was last there and she had butterflies as she worried if anybody still remembered her. They did and we had a really good day using the detecting of old friends as an excuse to trawl various Guinness serving bars and restaurants. On our return to hot, sweaty NY we went to a nice Irish pub for dinner (another old haunt of herself) and spent an enjoyable few hours discussing everything from Route 66 to America overseas with the locals. T'was nice to have an intellectual discussion after so many weeks, not that Trish and I don't, you understand but we have spent 3 months
in each others company.

Today (Sunday) is an easy day, again very hot and we had contemplated a walk downtown to Little Italy. We are still debating if it is too hot to walk so far...

We fly out of JFK tomorrow and land in Heathrow around 7am Tuesday and back to normality, whatever that is. We have had a great time and seen/done so many wonderful things it is hard to pick a favourite, so we wont'. Okay, we will: I liked NZ, Trish says whales and NZ.


See ya

P & T in NY (With K)
XXXX

D'ya wanna cawfee...

...roughly translates from New Yorkese to English as "Would Sir and Madam like a heated beverage."

By 'eck. 'Tis bloody waam, 'ere translates as 'We are hot and sticky in places."

Greetings frog fans and all others from the Large Orange. Er, Big Apple. Temperatures continue to be in the high 80s although we had a great thunderstorm yesterday which sounded really weird compared to our thunder storms. The high buildings seem to knock out most of the rumble so you just get the high-end bit. Plenty flashing.

First things first for yesterday - brekkie in a classic NY diner (more cawfee?) followed by (as you do) a helicopter ride around New York over the that Statue thingy, the Hudson River, Ground Zero and Central Park and Madison Square Gardens. Trish chickened out after her experiences on the Auckland/Rotorua flight and sat and watched with Kermit, who was banned from flying on safety grounds (?) Only in Americky...) This was followed by a yellow taxi ride to Ground Zero so Trish could say a prayer. There were many people there taking pictures of the site and next to 'World Trade Centre' signs that had been salvaged. Is it us or is that just a bit sick? There is a list of those that died which is labelled as WTC 'heroes' Don't think they would class themsleves as that, perhaps unlucky to be in the wrong place but we will never know. In one corner of the site as part of a staircase from the collapsed buildings. It is a scary thought thinking how many did not get down that stairway.

There are also signs everywhere asking not to give to beggars so it must be assumed that many are trying to cash in on this. New York, like L.A. seems to have a high number of homeless people - Not something expected in the richest country in the world. Then again, it depends on how you define 'rich. We passed a begger as few minutes ago washing his hair under a fire hydrant and a young man sleeping next to his wheelchair with his McDonalds breakfast next to him. Bastard wouldn't give me a frie...

Blimey, this blog is getting us depressed!

Onto more cheerful things...Our hotel is very central (just minutes from the Empire State Building) so getting to anywhere is easy. On Tuesday we strolled up 5th Avenue to Times Square which actually isn't a square. It's just a forking road. One fork this way, one that way. We were trying to find the theatre on Broadway that has 'The Producers 'on it. As we got to the place we spotted 'Spamalot' in the theatre opposite. Never one's to make a firm decision (Well, Trish!) we decided to try and get tickets for both. 'The Producers', no problem and we are seeing that tonight (Thursday) and we were also lucky to get very good seats for 'Spamalot' for Friday.
The box office told us that hey had had a cancellation on seats that the press had booked. Friday is Bastille Day and the cast have apparently changed part of the show to have as many digs at the French as possible, hence the anti-French flavour and newspaper interest. (Pardon Laurence, l'amour du Dan, la frere de Trish). This is America after all, no great fan of our Gallic buddies.













Trish got me in to an armlock and we headed for Macy's department store for a mooch around. Trish's opinion is 'it's rather like going in to New Look on a Saturday and I wouldn't buy the stuff if they gave it away'. Money saved there then.

In the hotel, a few doors down, there appears to be an elderly lady who we think is a hotel resident. We have seen her wandering about in her nightie a couple of times and at night heard the occasional groaning noises. We though she was being murdered at first but as we saw her next morning alive and kicking we presume it was a nightmare.

Today is a lazy day (think the drugs are kicking back in to my system. B*^%$#*s!) and we will also continue our quest to find a book shop. We have been 3 days without literature and are having a real hard time trying to find a bookshop anywhere. Don't Americans read anything apart fro mthe baseball pages in newspapers? Our quest is made tougher by the road layout system here. As they have a system of horiozontal and vertical streets every junction is a crossroads with traffic lights for cars and us pedestrians. This means stopping and waiting at almost every intersection. Has nobody worked out what roundabouts are?

Gotta go. Lunchtime here and we both need one of those watery US beers.

Yours, desperately in need of a pint of Spitfire

Paul and Trish
XXXX

Does L.A. mean Los Angeles or Largely Abnormal..?

Greetings blog fans.

Well, the 10 hour flight from Fiji to L.A.was a bit of a long haul (ho ho!) and we arrived at our waterside hotel around 5pm Saturday the 8th July. Now here's a weird thing - 1800hrs 8th July we sat and had a final beer in Fiji before flying to L.A. We crossed the International Date Line 1 hr after take-off and then the Equator one hour after that. Then we had a meal also at 1800hrs 8th July but this time in L.A. Confused? We know what Dr Who feels like (says Trish).

Mr Steele would have liked our hotel which we reckon was built in the early Seventies and may well have featured in several porn movies since. The decor seemed to have not been updated since then. The bed still had the old-fashioned springs which may still have creaked. We cannot possibly say...although we are not sure if the hole in the wall was actually a smoke alarm or a concealed camera. Coming to a web-site near you...'Bouncing White Bums in L.A'...

Anyways, back to L.A., the alternative version.After shrugging off our jet-lag we decided (on Sunday) to take a stroll along Venice Beach to go weirdo-spotting. As it turns out going normal spotting would have provided more of a challenge. There was a large amount of flesh on show and as one man said to us, "You know you are in Weirdsville when the men are showing more flesh than the women." Highlight of this particular excursion was a well-built black-man with a pair of very tight leopard-skin swimmers on that looked like an elastic band. We suspect some strategically placed socks also played a part. So, passing by a man begging by sign saying 'Will work for marijuana' and many fortune-tellers (Did they know we were coming?) we perused and perved our way along the beach to Santa Monica Pier and back again, returning with the look of a couple of lobsters. The day was hazy (nowt to do with marijuana) and the sun deceptive. Still, at least it now looks as though we have been on holiday now. With regard to L.A. women (Helen) we decided not to risk approaching any 'cos there was a fair chance they were probably men. We finished the day with a nice meal at L' hotel du Porn and spent time in the bar chatting to a couple from Sligo who know Anthony's (Trish's brother) future wifey. Small world, huh? Below is Kerm on Venice Beach looking towards Santa Monica Pier...



Monday. Another airport taking a flight L.A. to New York. L.A. is proably the worst airport we have been to. Despite our flying internally in Yankieville we still took an hour and a half to get through check-in and security. The staff treated everyone as though they were terrorists. At one point Trish was asked to remove her shoes (a brave move at the best of times) and as she bent to begin this process the female guard (for guard read : wassock) snapped, 'Do it. Do it now or I will send you to the detention area'. Ohhh! Touchy. Finally we made our escape and landed in New York 2000hrs on Monday 10th tired. Of course by the time we had got to the hotel and eaten we were both wide awake (thanks jet-lag) and sat watching bad American TV until 3 a.m. This morning we took a stroll around and, as we are just around the corner from the Empire State Building) took a trip to the top. It is not as high as we thought it maybe but at least Kermit got his picture taken.

Deckers please note: I forgot to bring the necessary cable to transfer pictures to the computer so will upload them on our return next Tuesday. Glad Philomena and Massa have moved into Castle Hamilton okay. Tell 'em Trish will ring soon. With regard to the fridge magnets we have at last three more for you. It seems our cunning plan is working: If we buy enough you may ask us to stop doing so...Oh, Old Man Cod, if you are reading this did you get yours? Are you dead? If so are we in the will?

Dan, if you are reading this drop us a line as to which DVD you were after and we will try to obtain it. Can you ask Philomena if she has Aunt Lil's old New York address as Trish has a feeling our hotel is nearby. Thanks.
Pennie and Bill, we trust all is well and that Poppy is good (Did she get her postcard?). Speak next week.
Mr Steele and Vigo Woman: The first will never be a saint...The second knows far too much about John Denver. Closet fan, perhaps?


Bestest regards to all from a hot and sweaty New York.
Paul, Trish and Kermy
XXXX

This really is the last resort...

...we ever stay at. Okay, if you have sproggies then maybe you don't mind behind trapped on a sun-kissed, palm-fringed coral island but, flippin' 'eck, even our island has bridge. (Well, two now.) Being stuck in Stalag 101 means you are at the mercy of all the 'Activities Desk' can concoct. We arranged a couple of touristy things to do mainly out of desperation. Our Wednesday snorkel trip was cancelled due to a sick dive-boat and by the time we were told this news all other activities for the rest of the week were fully booked. WE AIN'T SUN-WORSHIPPERS! Well, Kermit just slobbed out and drank Fiji beer all day...

Fortunately this inactivity did give us a chance to get to know a few of the other inmates so we made or own entertainment. Stand up David and Heather Quinn from Auckland, Anne and Marlene from Tasmania, the Salmons from Aussie-stralia and Ed and October (Yes, that is her name and, no, she was born in May) the English couple that run the dive school here. You shall go down in history as our saviours. Below is a picture of the 2 grown-up Quinns, well, Heather...


On Friday we managed to make a break for the shore and find a taxi into Nadi, the local town so Trish and Heather could get their shopping fix and so as we could have some food that was not fried or over-cooked and did not contain any derivative of the coconut. Once it had been made clear to the any tradesmen and woman harassing us to enter their shop that I did not have the legs for a Sari (big Hindu population here) we relaxed. Heard some interesting info. from Mohammed our taxi-driver about they way this resort operates and treats the local Fijians. Apparently there is a comment sheet in our room. I hope it has about 10 sheets of blank A4 attached.

Roll on L.A. We are being kicked out of here at 1100hrs and our flight is not until 2200 so we are off into town again. We will do anything not to stare at palms and be constantly approached by the staff to ask if we want beer.

Yesteday's highlight: We sat in the pool-side restaurant (Beer, Meester? No. P**s off.) and out of the corner my eye I saw something fly towards me. As I put my hand on my head something ran across it whilst a little girl beind us screamed. Fearing a repeat of the 4 inch spider we found in our room I started brushing my fingers through my hair only to find a 2 inch gecko having fun in my follicles. Panic over and every experience is educational. For instance, I found out that these lizards are called gecko's because that is the sound the make. So why don't we call dogs woofs?

So, farewell from Fiji. It is a really slow paced place and outside of here is very beautiful countryside filled with smiling friendly people. L.A. is just a 2 day stop-over to break our journey and do some laundry and maybe laugh at the oddalls on Venice Beach.

Oh, one thing I just remembered. Sat in the hotel lobby yesterday watching Americans waddle by I found myself huming along to a tune being played. I (much like you, dear reader) do not know any Fijian songs so stopped humming and listened. Yup. It was definitely 'Lily the Pink' in Fijian... Funny old world.

Had to laugh at T. Blair telling a Commons enquiry that his government did nothing to provoke the July 7 London bombings. Good job he didn't invade Iraq/Afghanistan and kill lots of innocent Muslims then, innit?


Must hop peoples.
Plenty packing to do.

Try to update from L.A. if we can.

Stay safe/keep smiling

Paul and Kermit
(Trish packing).
XXXX

To continue the coconut theme...

...We are surrounded by 'em. On drinks, in drinks, in trees, on the ground, falling to the ground. No wonder 150 people a year are killed by them.

BULA! (Fijian for hello).

Monday began with a visit to Nadi, the local town. Unlike Sheerness it has a cinema, decent coffee shops, raps for the disabled, plenty shopping and clean streets. We may stay here...

Started Tuesday with a horse ride around the island. Nice and relaxing on horses that seem unable to do more than 2 mph. This was followed by a cold beer as the ol' backside got back into some kind of normality. Below is a picture of me doing a Sancho Panza followed by Ella and Mrs Quinn and wifey.

Speaking of backsides we have a waiter here called Tomasi who is to striaght what Cherie Blair is to beauty. all the men here wear a flower of some kind in their hair, as do the woman and they also wear a wrap-around skirt which finishes about 6 inches about the ankle. Tomasi doesn't. His flower is always set at a jaunty angle and his skirt finishes just on the knee. Very fetching! We have come to the conclusion that Fiji is the perfect cover if you are gay.

Yesterday afternoon we took a 45 minute trip to village to meet the the Lawai people (a collection of about 40 related families) to see how they live. We met their chief and I was made our chief. We had to drink the local brew, kava, as part of a welcoming ceremony. Kava is made by drying out the roots of a plant related to the pepper. The root is then dried and crushed to a powder, mixed with water and, hey presto! Looks like milky tea, tastes like shite. Being chief and Mrs chief Trish and I had to have a double dose and we could still taste/smell it 2 hours later so had to go and have a beer to wash the taste away. The tribe performed a welcoming ceremony (and a 'clear off' ceremony) in which we were forced to do the snake dance, a kind of regulated epilepsy fit. Dan 'Snake Hips' Hamilton, ya would have loved it. Honest. You would. Below is a piccy of Trish pretending to enjoy the Kava. 'Tis definitely an acquired taste.

The photo on the left is of a couple of children from Lawai village. Quite cute if you like children I suppose...

Today is a slob out day, maybe a bit of kayaking for me and book-reading for Trish in 26C heat. Yes, we know it is hotter in Sheppey but you ain't got palm trees, clear seas and a gay waiter...Tonight we are going to a fire-walking ceremony followed by another kava drinking ceremony. Can't wait...


Sorry to hear about Mr Kenten, Mr Steele. Please pass condolences onto Mick and his family. Glad to here the bridge is finally open. Maybe now I can get the old road to myself.

Hope my favourite father and mother-in-law are settled in to their new home.

Vinaka (Fijian for thank you).

Paul, Trish and Kerm
XXXX

Oooh eck! It's like living in a Bounty advert..

Remember those coconut filled adds for choccie. Well this is it. Blue sea, bluer sky and coconut trees all around. 28C with a light breeze off of the Pacific. Of course the down side is the coconuts themselvs as a Rolling Stone was recently bashed on the bonce by one in Fiji but we doubt he noticed, maaan.

Arrived around 6 pm last night after a 3 hour flight, 30 minute bus ride and a 3 minute boat-ride onto Sonaisali Island, the only way you can leave. A little bit resorty but very relaxing so we spent the morning dipping various parts of our anatomy into the Pacific, browning the white bits and slurping cocktails a la poolside.

Oh, last night we brought a frog in an auction (yes a real one!) to take part in the International Frog Race. Kermit's name had already been taken so we opted for 'Tadpole'. Unfortunately the lazy amphibian didn't hop more than about 2 feet so we did not win. A frog called Kermit did win. However, we did meet a nice NZ couple who won 2nd prize and, as they were leaving here, gave us their voucher. Hence the horse-riding we have booked for Tuesday.

Apparently England have lost some footy match or other. Who cares when you have sun, sea and sand in your undies. Tomorrow we plan to go into Nadi, the local town to search for cannibals. The island has its own mongoose population and some very weird birds..and some with feathers...

Looks nice, does it not...



Going back out to enjoy the tropics. Adios.

Paul & Trish
Browning nicely,
Fiji.
XXXX

Hopping it...

Morning frog fans.

Just sat in the hotel lobby waiting for a taxi to make the 3 hour hop to Fiji. If you get a chance then get to New Zealand, land of nice people and volcanoes. Everywhere is clean, food is very good and inexpensive and the scenery is amazing.

Speak in Fiji so long as the cannibals don't get us.

Kermy and the humans
XXXX

Things you (and we) never knew about Rotorua...

Did you know for instance that as the earth's crust is so thin (or 'thn' as the locals say it) that you cannot bury the dead due to the heat. Roast granny, anyone? People have big holes in their gardens with boiling water and steam pouring out. Beats a Charlie Dimmock water feature any day.

We took a trip out to a buried Maori village yesterday with a fantastic Maori called Huru (Roll the 'R' to pronounce correctly) who informed Trish and I as we drove up a narrow twisty mountain road that his grandfather was a cannibal. Oh s$#t! Actually he was a very nice and knowledgable man and the village in question was buried by a massive volcano in the 1880s along with 8 other villages, killing 120 people including Huru's family members. He tried to teach us some Maori but we never really got beyond 'kia ora' which, before you say it, is not a fruit drink but means hallo and goodbye, but not at the same time. Think Hawaiian 'aloha'.

If the Grovehust Jetty gang are reading this then hello and Phil, the Maori for Phil is, er, Phil. We did try to get a rough translation of 'The man with no arse' but it does not work.

The flight to and from Rotorua ws a bit of an adventure. Being a very small 'plane (shed with wings) it was thrown about a bit so Trish kept her eyes shut both times.

Pennie, yes we can check our private e.mail so fire one off and we shall do our best so long as you are not trading Sir Bill in for Daniel Day Lewis (who Trish informs me is a film star...) Not sure how the e.mail thing will work in Fiji so we will check tomorrow for your request. Please say hallo to your Paul when you next comunicate and tell him to get to New Zealand. it is a wonderful place. Last night we sat on the hotel top floor and slurped a malt whiskey and thought of Sir Bill doing the same at Douglas Towers.

In a couple of hours we are taking a ferry across Auckland Harbour to Rangitoto Island (or Ratatouille Island as Trish calls it) where we will taken on a 4WD trip across lava (cooled) followed by a walk to Rangitoto volcano's summit.

Mr Steele , please pass get wells onto... your Daddy, Mr Harwood's Daddy, Lairdy and Dawn's Mumsy. Boy are we glad to be so healthy compared to that bunch!

Good luck to favourite mother-in-law, Philomena and the Massa with their house move, Mary and Deckers with the drinking (more fridge magnets posted today) and Helen with the blonde thing...

Happy birthday Slimeball! Enjoy the day and we owe you a Guinness.

More later...


Paul Trish and Kermit
XXXX

What we did today...

As we have 16 minutes left on our interweb time here is what we did after the last blog update...
We went and sat in a thermal-heated mineral pool thingy heated by volcanic activity. Darn hot on the bot but nice and (Trish says) re-energising. Just made me hot and my head go all swimmy.

This stuff just comes out of the ground all over this place. That is naturally heated boiling water just a few yards from Trish's tootsies...



Just popped into Rotorua for dinner and found an English run place that served us a full roast dinner. Roast spuds, carrots Yorkie puds, the works. Burrrp!

On that note we shall leave ye and continue this hard slog around the globe...

Bonne nuit
Paul et Trish
XXXX

Sorry about the 'F' in fog...

As Michael Fish once said... and that is what we said when Qantas told us when they said our 'plane was delayed en route from Sydney to take us from Cairns back to Sydney for transfer to Auckland, NZ. (Keeping up so far?) Anyways, we had one and a half hours to transfer at Sydney but with the original ex-Cairns flight being delayed by the same time we had zero time to transfer. Qantas assured us our luggage would be with us. Lying B$#@%!@S. 15 hours later our undies caught up with us.
Trish managed to set off her panic/safety alarm on her pedometer before take-off at Cairns which freaked all the other passengers as we could not find the bit of plastic to plug back in too shut the thing up. Even the steward looked worried. Upshot was that we made it to Auckland around 2am Sunday morning, caseless.

Auckland; Small city, very clean and seemingly friendly although whilst having our first coffee on Sunday morning one of the locals left the cafe and gave me the finger! Welkommen auf Auckland! He was bigger than I so we left it. (Could have had 'im anyways...) Managed to find a Singapore style eaterie nearby so we can both eat a good evening meal for around GBP3.00 (Euro 4.50 / USD 5.00). The food is too good to miss, is cooked in front of you and there is lots of it. On our first wide awake full day we wandered into Parnell village and then the Auckland Musuem where we met our first Maori whom I now have a photo of trying to cut Trish's throat with a big knifey thing. We also took a stroll down to the harbour but the bridge ain't as good as Sydney's.





This morning (Tuesday) we flew down to Rotorua in the smallest plane you ever saw. It was possible to stand in the aisle and touch both sides of the fuselage and you had a clear view of what the pilot was up to. Spectacular flight down (Trish kept her eyes shut) over old volcanic grounds and chasms and over lake Rotorua. The hotel here is a bit posh 'cos it overlooks the lake. Before check-in we took a trip out to a geo-thermal area (geysers, bubbly mud, steam et al) and stood on the thinnest part of the Earth's crust anywhere in the world. Well, that is what our Maori guide said. We have just checked-in proper and are about to take a relaxing slob in a pool heated by the hot bubbly lava beneath us. At least I can blame the bubbles on something else this time.

Tomorrow we plan to visit a Maori city buried by a volcanic eruption in the 1890s so will probably produce our next electronic missive from Auckland.

Notes to you all...

Bill and Pennie - Good to speak to you this morning. Pennie we trust your 61st birthday went well and do not worry. Your age is our secret...
Anthony and Noeleen - Do not let Smudge near the sheep with his large tool. (Ewe know what we mean...)
Crazy Gary - Possibly the nicest American we have ever met. Good to hear from you, Sir! We hope all is well for you. We are back in L.A. in a week and a half then New York for eight days. No doubt if you were not too busy driving au-pairs about we could have a beer together! Kermit is kind of behaving himself and we hope to plug some photo's on here shortly. Keep your pecker up, old bean.
Mol and Deckers - Mucho fridgeo magneto to comeo.
Dan - Wherefore art thou?
Man of Steele - Are you also man of Medway. If so, how is Lairdy?
Mad Mike - Staying loony here....


Speak from a sweltering (13C) Auckland before we have to suffer the paradise isles of Fiji.


Arrivederci gang.

Paul, Trish and the Kerm
XXXX

There's sharks in them thar waters...

Wednesday, so it must be the Great Barrier Reef. We took a very rough 20 mile trip out of Cairns to the outer edge of the reefs, slipped on flippers, wetsuit and snorkel and sat on the platform at the back of the boat. Deep breath and in. Totally amazing dude! You could see all the way to the sea-floor which was about 20 yards below. We were instantly surrounded by fish just taking a look at us as we took a look at them. The boats are not allowed to go to near the reefs so we had a bit of a paddle (no scuba, doctors orders!) to get there. First thing I saw? A reef shark. Apparently they are harmless but I did not stay around for too long. Clear waters, all sorts of fish everywhere (no surprise there then...) and some weird corals. I also saw a loggerhead turtle and as I returned to the boat a green turtle floated up right underneath me and took a couple of lungs full of air not more than 6 feet from where I was.

Thursday was a bit of a rest day so we set of for Cairns via the local bus. Not a bad city but very small. Think Chatham if in England or Tullamore if in Ireland.) Browsed, bought a book or two headed home. Dinner in a very nice Italian restaurant (we have a choice of Italian, Chinese, Thai, Aussie-stralian so eat well) then back to base.

Today (Friday) we visited a place called Tjapukai which is an aboriginal cultural centre run by aboriginals alone with no governement assistance. Trish and I had a good attempt at spear throwing and boomeranging. No one got hurt in the making of this blog.

Tomorrow we depart this 27c paradise for 11C, rainy Auckland so tonight I have booked a bush-tucker special in a local eaterie. Skippy, croc and barramundi all on one plate. (Okay, who shouted fat b#####d?).

The Aussie mob have gone crazy again as their team got through to the next round of the World Cup. The are known as the Socceroos here but having seen 'em play under their Dutch manager, Gus, I have renamed them the Gus-ettes, mainly 'cos their playing style is pants.

Nice place Australia. Friendly people, good service, cheap and most of all sunny. Speak from the land of the Kiwi...(other shoe polishes are available).


Paul and Trish
XXXX

You know you are in a jungle when...

...You come home from a day in the rain-forest and find a 6 inch preying mantis clinging to your door and a 2 inch long cockroach lurking in the middle of the bedroom floor. Both were, of course, sent packing in a human and friendly way. The mantis even posed for photographs but they way it followed you around with its big eyes was a tad disconcerting. The insects seem to have no concept of volume control and are rather loud at night and we are normally woken by the birdies. You name it, we get it. Sounds like chickens being choked, thrushes being throttled and ravens being rogered by ostriches. Our mantis...


Helen - I think it was 'Make me a crocodile sandwich. And make it snappy.' I intend to try croc. on Friday in a local eaterie, along with more Skippy and a bit of Barramundi, a local fish.

Had another great day yesterday withe the temperature holding up at 27C (well, it is a tropical region, even though it is mid-winter here). We visited an artists co-op in the middle of the jungle and met a very nice original aboriginal called Boonca who made me a boomerang (just had to buy one!) and gave a throwing lesson. The village is called Kuranda and began life as a jungle-warfare training camp in WW2, was taken over by hippies in the 60s and is now an artists retreat. Very lovely, quiet place with coffee shops and small cafe's about the place. We also visited a butterfly farm where the inhabitants took an interest in Trish. - must be here pheremones (or is it fairy-moans?)

Today is a lazy day for us, just a beach walk, leisurely breakfast by the Pacific Ocean and a bit of shopping. Things are a bit quiet after the Aussie's got bashed by the Brazilians and we are at least missing the over-hype that is no doubt happening in the U.K., and we get to miss Wimbledon too. Result! (Bog off, Tim.)

Slobbing out this afternoon and then choosing a nice restaurant for din-dins tonight. Tomorrow we snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef. The Dilemma: Should I tell Trish about the sharks?

Your thoughts please.

Paul and Trish
XXXX

I'm a frog-lebrity - Get me out of Here!

Good morning frog fans and g'day from Cairns in NE Aus.

Yesterday the humans and I flew about 1500 miles north to the rain-forests of Cairns. Very nice here and the humans have planned all sorts of stuff for us to do. Tomorrow we are going into the rain-forests and getting close to the insects. One worry was the fact that there are dead toads all over but apparently they have had a problem with cane-toads breeding out of control and the toads are now fair game for anyone. Wish I was breeding too much...They have also arranged a snorkelling trip on the Great Barrier Reef. Wonder if they'll find Nemo? There is some talk of a cycling trip which includes a swim in a lake of natural water in an extinct volcano. Count this frog out.

Anyways, I digress. Whale watching was fun for all except one of the Japs who was, er just a little ill. Mind you the 1st mate was a bit cruel when he came below and microwaved a bowl of minestrone soup right in front of her. Just made her chuck again, poor bloody Nip! And another thing...Why do people have to complicate foods? The Americans do it with eggs (sunny-side up, over easy etc.) and the Aussie-stralians do it with coffee. Can I have a black coffee? Can I heck! Short black, skinny white, long black. It's another lingo, dingo.

This morning we took our first walk around and headed towards the beach. First sign we saw? BEWARE OF CROCODILES! It just isn't safe for a frog around here. The male human has plans to try a crocodile steak sometime this week and had another part of skippy last night. Bloomin' animal! And I don't mean the croc.

Must hop.

Ribbit!
XXXX

Oh my god! They killed Skippy...

"Tut tut tut tut."
"What's that , Skippy? There is a man coming towards you with a knife and fork?"
"Tut tututut tut tu."
"Ya think he's gonna eat you, Skippy?"
"Tut TUT TUT TUT."
"You'll be alright, Skippy. You'll... er, um, erm. Bye Skippy."

Yes folks at around 8p/m/ on Wednesday night your foreign correspondants spotted 'Chargrilled Kangaroo Steaks" on the menu and just had to indulge. It didn't taste like chicken but a bit like beef but slightly more chewy. (For and vegans/vegetarians think semi-frozen tofu, I guess).

Yesterday we took a train-ride into the Blue Mountains, about 70 miles outside Sydney and did something called 'hiking', which is a posh word meaning we walked up and down bloody steep slopes in brilliant sunshine and finished in a lovely small town called Leura. Think wild west town without horses ( the locals probably ate 'em!)

Today is our last full day in Sydders and we went...wait for it... drum-roll...Whale Watching. We had an early (6:30) start and boarded around 0800hrs. There were a few Japanese onboard but we checked them for harpoons first, knowing how they like to catch whales for 'scientific research' purposes. Yeah. Right. Then it was a 45-minute trip out of Sydney Harbour and then we spotted our first pod (as us experts call more than one) of hump-backed whales breeching (jumping out of the water), squirting water from their blow-holes, swimming close to the boat and swimming by just under the surface of clear water. When not doing the above they were bashing the water with their fins. T'was a fantastic experience despite heavy swell and in total we saw 6 whales in 3 pairs, which was handy for them as they are migrating north for a bit of nautical nookie. One of the Nips was very queasy and stayed below nose-first into a sick-bag. Trish has just started getting that sea-sickness feeling and we have been ashore for 15 minutes! Below a shot of one of the aforementioned whales - You had to be quick to get a shot of 'em. On the right one of the green and queasy Nips complete with slowly filling sick-bag.
















Tonight we plan to take a stroll across the Harbour Bridge (about 5 minutes from our hotel) followed by a good beer and some grub. We may try roast platypus tonight...Tomorrow we leave for Cairns with another early start.

Speak in a few days after we have got our bearings there.

Paul, Trish and Froggie
XXXX

p.s. Pennie, we saw your double today. Same shape, hairstyle and clothes - We thought you had followed us. XXXX <--- For you and Bill

Sunny in Sydney

Afternoon all.

Mrs M, I do not think discussing your knocker online is a good career move - Shall we presume the new porch is stood standing now? Have you christened it with your first Jehovah?

CCU Mr Steele? Tell Lairdy it stands for Cut Cigarettes, Ugly.

Yes, we got to hear all the Aussie's celebrating their one win at the World Cup At 1 am. And at 3 am and all the repeats since on TV. Yaaawn.

The sun has finally appeared and is due to stay for the rest of the week. Yesterday we took the Sydney Harbour ferry across to the zoo and had a slow mooch about. Not big fans of zoo's normally but had to see the Kanga's, Playpuss's's's and such like as there are not too many of those about in Sydney city. Trish got chased by an emu which I found very funny and she, er, didn't. Trish took her second cable car trip of the holiday and still claims to be scared of heights even though I caught her looking out of the window.

5 seconds after this picture was taken Trish began running downthe path with the emu in hot pursuit. I suspect it saw itself in my camera lens and saw a rival and, unfortunately, Trish was between us. The other photo shows that the Sydney Zoo breeding programme is going well...





















To the right: Giant giraffe eats Sydney Opera House Shock!












Does anybody fancy a genuine crocodile handbag (okay, it maybe an alligator.) You get the skin and I'll find a tanner...









Our hotel is at the edge of the business district so when we go walkabout (See? Talking Aussie-ese already!) we pass lots of suited boring farts muttering into their mobiles and looking at their shoes. The friendliest people are those from outside the city and ex-pats who hear our accents. We wandered to the cinema last night to watch the Da Vinci Code. Okay kind of film but if you have not read the book first then you are buggered (Trish's words).

Today we had planned to take a train up into the Blue Mountains but decided last night sur le duvet that we were knackered and have re-planned for tomorrow.

Thanks for the baad joke Sarah...we think...


Adios amigos.

Paul and Trish.
XXXX

Soggy in Sydney...

Greetings frog fans, Kermit here.

I finally managed to get out of Singapore with all body parts intact. Singapore: 32C, Sydney: 12C. Bleedin freezing, sport. And to make things worse the son-of-a-convict at immigration wouldn't stamp me passport. Muttered something about regulations and just signed it with his Officer number. Even the guy in Singapore stamped it. Okay so I had to have a 'Special Permission' stamp and not your usual humans one but I expected nothing less...

"Get off the keyboard, frog. Humans turn"
"Gerroff. Ribbit!"
"Off. And get yer flipper off of my head"
"Grr, ribbit, croaky, ribbit."

Humans here. Hallo from a sunny 20C Sydney. We arrived at 0500hrs on Saturday morning in rain and it didn't stop for the next two days. So far Sydney hasn't done it for us but today it is nice out so we went for a stroll. The frog has got his Sydney Opera House/Harbour Bridge shot and we went for a stroll through the botanical gardens where we saw a bunch of fruit bats hanging around and Trish got attacked by a hungry cockatoo (Well, she did have his nuts in her hand). Spotted a trio of Aboe's playing with their didgeridoo's (is that how you spell it?) at the harbour and thought of booking them for the folk club...

Tomorrow we take a ferry to the zoo and hopefully hike the Blue Mountains on Wednesday. Today we are walking the city and have chosen to forego the bus tour and walk it instead. Trish has brought a pedometer with her so we know how damn fit we are getting. We covered 35.27 miles and 85587 steps, burning 3685 calories over 12.46hrs in exercise time in Singapore, which ain't bad as we took the MRT (undergound) a lot of the time as is was very hot and sticky. The first pub we found in Sydney was an Irish one and the Guinness was most welcome. Trish and the barman (Colm from Galway) discovered mutual friends in her home town then we hit the shops. People here are generally not as friendly as Singapore but then again are not chasing you for your money (or your frog).We are finding Sydney easy to navigate on foot as it is not too big but the small hills shock after flat Singapore. Prices are cheap compared to home and Kermit is still on the look out for Kylie.

Above an arty farty shot of the Opera House and some weird flower arranging in the Botanical Gardens. Sex and Death? No, we didn't get it either...

Just about to wander to Darling harbour to the Outback Centre to shoot dingo's and chew a kangaroo steak. All the Aussie-stralians are getting ready for their footie match tonight and are all sports-obssessed. Trish and I are doing our best to spread the art of the slobdomwhere we can...


TTFN
Paul, Trish, Kerm
XXXX

Carrots suck (and blow if you do it right...)

Greetings gang.

Another visit to Raffles last night but this time we went to see the Austrian Vegetable Orchestra do their thing. 8 people bashing celery, hammering pumpkins, grating parsnips and blowing through hollowed out carrots. Odd but very absorbing. This was followed by a late-night feast in the restaurant with a couple of Singaporean friends, Anjana and Roy and we ended the evening by being asked to leave as we had talked to long and too late. Wasn't this way when the Brits still ran the place...

Today was another rainy day but at least the rain was warm. Not that it was a problem as we were indoors shopping which is seemingly Singapore's second favourite pastime after eating.

Thanks for the cricket update Mr Steele and the thoughts from Soxy and crew and chief-feeder Mrs M. Please retain the mouse-tail until our return. By the way, who Chris Bliss?

Yesterday we went for a long walk and accidentally went into the underground food preparation area of a shop in the Chinatown area. What a smell! Made my sock draw smell as fragrant as Monet's Garden. We did see fried frog on the menu (again) hence the absence of Kermit who is hiding. Food...Last night Singaporean, lunchtime today Thai and tonight maybe we will go to an Indian eaterie. Missing fish and chips badly...you can take the man out of England but...

Good news whilst we are out here from the 5 year drug trails test for the old leukie drug - 89% success/survival rate on those taking it. As I am planning not to be in the 11% it can be presumed that news of my death has been greatly exaggerated...Actually we got the info from our man Roy and his good lady, both of whom can rightly be considered experts on all the medical stuff. Apparently it made front page news on the Daily Telegraph with a quote from our good friend Pennie. (Oooer Missus - in the Torygraph. Whatever next?)

Below, Kerm gets hot and sweaty around the old 'tadpole-maker' (if you know what I mean) in the Orchid Gardens andTrish gets pulled outof the crowd in Singapore Zoo by some ugly bloke...




















That is about it from Singapore. We fly tomorrow to Sydney, arriving 0800hrs on Saturday morning. Speak when we are down under...

Paul, Trish and the cowardly frog.
XXXX

p.s. Is one week long enough to wear the same pair of undies?

Raaain!

Finally, some rain.

Greetings all. Today the wet stuff fell and all the locals rain for cover. We just stood in it to cool down as the temp remains around 30c. Yesterday we went on a night safari but did not see too much as it was rather dark but did meet a snake and some strange cat-like thingy. We also saw a display by a tribe of Borneo tribesmen which included a bit of blow-darting. Trish got selected from the audience to fire a dart at one of the men who held a balloon between his thighs, just under Jim and the twins. Fortunately she proved to be a good shot...Lots of fire-eating, darting and stuff all washed down with a cold beer. A good, but late night but who cares. We're on ollie-day.

Today we went to Sentosa Island which is a kind of pleasure island with 3D cinema and luge rides. There is also an underwater world where you walk through a glass tunnel with sharks swimming about the place. (Sure I saw a mother-in-law in one of those tanks...) Trish seems to have conquered her fear of heights as we got to the island by cable car...

Trish and I take a stroll. No, the frog did not take the picture. Flippers cannot work buttons. We met a nice American couple on honeymoon who kindly obliged.














The food continues to be good and very very inexpensive. Still lots to do. Now we will go and have a bit of a snooze as the temp. gets very bad around 3/4 p.m. here.



Toodle-pip.

Me and she
XXXX

Flogs everywhere...

Greetings world.

Kermit has decided to hide in the room and is feeling a little nervous in Singapore. Why? Everywhere he goes people point and shout "Flog" and Kerm, having heard about the severe penalties for law-breaking here, thinks he is in for a kicking...Still, we continue to have fun.

By 'eck, it does make you swot and hetty here with the temp. a constant 32C with 100% humidity. We do plenty things...

We began with food and took a slow mooch to Clark Quay (everything here has to happen sloooowly) and found a traditional Singaporean Italian Restaurant. Everywhere is spotlessly clean and the people really kind. On Saturday we went to the Orchid Gardens (Scousers reading this please note that 'Orchid' is not an Oriental verison of 'Our kid') which were really hot and steamy followed by a gem factory and a Buddist Temple.

Eating here is incredibly cheap at the hawker centres. Trish and I can scoff a very healthy meal of fish, rice and veggies for less than 3 squids for both of us. There is a nice mix of Singaporean, Malay and Chinese grub so we are spoiled for choice. This is what to much Chinese food does to you...


Yesterday (Sunday, I think) we met up with a couple of friends who live here, Anjana and Roy, who took us to a Checkov play and then forced us to go to Raffles Hotel for more food (boy, can they eat here!), lots of dim sum and of course a couple of Singapore Slings which were very nice and at 12 pounds a glass they had to be. Trish got her ride on a Trishaw, a kind of rickshaw with 3 wheels powered by a little old man that looked like a cross between Albert Steptoe and Grovehurst's Phil Hills. I felt guilty as we just sat back and let him pedal us to in all that heat and at one point thought he might expire so offered to push us...and it was bloody scary having cars coming at you from all angles. New underpants please.

Tonight we booked to go on a night safari having got out of bed around 11am, just in time for more cold beer and a small lunch at Aunty Kate's cafe across the road. She serves a wickedly hot chilli sauce.

Must run. Rumbling tummy syndrome.

Trust Blighty is still going strong.

Paul, Trish and an absent Kermit the Flog.
XXXX

Nous arrive a la Singapore

Greetings Munchkins and Lilypadians.

12 hours on a 'plane and we just landed at Changi Airport. Just a little bit jet-lagged and the weather is just a little bit bleedin' hot. At first glance Singapore is clean and lively. The taxi driver pointed out where to go to get a full-on nosh up for S$3.00 0 about a pound. Bargain.

Below is Trish at Clarke Quay. So, what exotic oriental fare did we nosh on our first night. Well, an Italian , actually. I needed pasta. Tp the right is Trish with our good friend Anjana, who lives and lurks in just outside the city.

















The frog is currently reposed on the absolutely huge bed on the 18th floor and shows no sign of coming round. Trish has gone into blagger mode and has thus far achieved the following...

Free champagne at the Heathrow Hilton (they asked if our stay was for a special occasion and she said yes. Well, I suppose Wednesday is quite special).
Breakfast at Witherspoons in Terminal 4 was supposed to be 18 pounds (sorry no pound sgn on this keyboard) but the cashier couldn't count and it cost only 5.
We got our airplane seats moved to the exits so plenty of leg room.
We (I) chatted up the very blonde air-hostess and she delivered a free bottle of champagne and luxury first class goodies to our seats.

So far so good. Time to find the bar.

Night-time safari planned for tomorrow if we wake up.

Paul & Trish.
XXXX

ps. We love Mad Mike!

Paul, Trish and Kerm
XXXX

Much like John Denver we are leavin' on a jet-plane...

...but hopefully not crashing as he did.

Mornin' folks. The frog here. The humans are just about packed and ready to roll. I have packed, well, er, actually, nothing as froggies don't wear clothes as they get wet in the old pond and inhibit spur-of-the-moment froggy frolics with my froggy b£$$%^&S! (Hint: Rhymes with carbolics - without the car...)

Below is me get sweaty in Singapore and on the right is the female human slurping a Singapore Sling in Raffles Hotel...

















This is her fifth, y'know...


Speaking of words that sound like frolics what is all this rubbish on human TV about hair stuff with 'Boswelox' in it? Load of cobblers if you ask me. Less 'swe' in that word and we would be nearer the truth. It's enough to make yer pentapeptides get all fructosed...

The departure time, like a flea-infested cat following you, ticks nearer as I prepare to go into 'goose the air-hostess mode'. Just hope they don't mind me bringing a goose onboard.

Below is a picture of a distant cousin in 'Dave Ellis' mode. Who he? Well, hop along to the Minster Folk and Blues Club on Monday 24th July and find out. He is really rather good, as is his sidekick, Boo.

The taxi doth approach. Hope it smells sweet 'cos there is nothing worse than a taxi rank.

Speak from Singapore fellow Lilypadian's.

Ribbity croak.

XXXX

And Dorothy said, "There's no place like home."

Good afternoon all. Above is a picture of herself and I standing on an original part of Route 66. Seems like along time ago now instead of one week but we had fun (Yes, Trish, the whirlwinds, snakes, French loony and creepy Charles Manson moment were fun. Just keep telling yourself that...) T'was a fantastic once-in-a-lifetime trip although a victory lap was suggested once we had reached Los Angeles. To call it a holiday is like calling the Grand Canyon a big hole in the ground: It just doesn't do it justice. It was more an adventure with a bit of endurance thrown it which is probably why all concerned were bouncing around in Santa Monica when we got there. (Rather like that transvestite we saw on the pier with his/her, er, enlargements).

The following picture just goes to prove that everything is bigger in America, including the bloody Injuns.

And now, it is all over... but is it? We are currently running about like head-less egg-laying bird things getting ready for the next holiday which starts on Wednesday. Singapore-Sydney-Cairns-Auckland-Rotorua-Fiji-Los Angeles-New York. Ees a tough life meester, no?

Must run. Undies to pack and I am having trouble getting both pairs into the suitcase 'cos Trish got there first with her cosmetics...

Paul, Trish and Kermit (Currently having another duvet day).

The Three Amigos...

Okay, here are the three people I have to thank for getting my sun-burned flippers across the States...

Top left is Gary, a slightly crazy (in a nice way) guy. Very funny but amazingly good at almost anything except a Cockney accent. (Think Dick van Dyke on Prozac...) He is the man that...carried the humans underwear, the cold water for the desert, waterproof clothing and, I suspect, chocolate in his air-conditioned van. A true star.

Stu, a kind of Cool Hand Luke character with a hint of Chicago mafia. Cool (ex policeman), soooo laid back you need to cattle-prod him every few minutes to check he is still alive . Oh, and he owns 10 'bikes.

Finally we have the Great Don, tour leader extraordinaire, ex fireman and thoroughly nice chap. Tall (yes, I know everyone is tall compared to me but he is 6' 4''!), calm at all times and professional. I miss his cries of 'Saddle up!' when he wants us to ride out of town (or when we are rode out of town!) In Gallup, Texas we met his beautiful and charming wife and had his colleagues escort our limo to a restaurant. Actually, once his wife and my female human established an Irish connection she did talk quite a lot...Plus ca change?

So there you have it. The roll call of those that we could not have done the trip without. More stories and pictures tomorrow hopefully. Me and the humans are busy preparing for the next part of the trip, 2 months hopping around the world.

Laters!

Kermit

Oh, we met the Mad Mike that posts here in a pub on Friday night. Interesting fact: He is the current World Walk-The-Plank Champion. I jest with thee not. Stay ribbity.

Me and Wyatt Twerp...

Well frog fans it looks like the humans got me home safely despite dragging me across te Arizona and the Mojave desert in temperatures of around 44C. Sing with me in a 'My Fair Lady' fashion: "All I want is a pond somewhere, full of flies and a cooling air..." . Above you can see me getting held-up, literally and pistolly, whilst on a train going to the Grand Canyon. Very scary I can tell you. If I wore undercrackers they would have been filled. Please note my adoring American fans in the background...

Now we are back I will get one of the 'umans to post a few more of pictures of me as I guess you all need your fix of this amphibious sex-god.

On Sunday 21st we completed our Route 66 adventure/holiday/endurance test at Santa Monica Pier, California where I saw my first live transvestite. 2449 miles over 14 days is quite a feat with legs like mine. The day before our finish was slightly marred by one of the Hungarians throwing his 'bike down the rode and shattering his elbow but that is human beings for you: they switch off from the job in flipper, er, I mean hand and crash. We didn't

More later peeps. I am jet-lagged and in need of a lilypad.

Ribbit croak.
XXXX

Finally an internet link...

Greetings all. You would think that given how advanced America tells the
world it is that most places would have an interweb link in the hotel or an interweb cafe somewhere. Anyways, all is going well and we have covered about 2100miles of the journey so far. Currently we are in Laughlin, Nevada and the temperature today is only 104f (40 degreesC). Today we rode through the Black Mountains with lots of twisty roads and long drops and into a small town called Oatman, which has the Million Dollar Hotel in it. How The West Was Won was filmed there. The hotel has every wall covered in one dollar bills signed by every visitor, so we wrote one for us and Kerm (see picture above). The ride across the Arizona desert was almost unbearable as the 20mph wind was scorching hot. Only 350 miles to L.A.

Route 66... Straight, innit?

Yesterday we took a train ride out to the Grand Canyon where it was 'only' 38 C. On the return the train was attacked by bandits and Kerm ended up at the end of a gun barrel. He is proving popular as usual.

Tonight we are in a casino hotel and should reach California by noon. Temp is forecast to be 115F.

Maybe tomorrow we will find a decent link...

Paul, Trish and tired froggy.
XXXX

Soggy in Santa Fe...

Morning all.

Sorry for the lack of posts but it has been surpisingly hard to find an intwerweb cafe here. The last 3 days have taken us to Amarillo (Yes, we did sing the song and the Americans looked confused!), Clinton, Texas, and finally here, Santa Fe, New Mexico 7000 feet above sea level. The frog is confined to barracks as his ego is getting to large. He has become popular with the 4 Hungarians and 4 Swedes on our tour to the extent that they requested that when they posed for a photograph on the origial Route 66 Kermit sat in front hold a Route 66 sign. Gary, the support truck driver is making a photo documentary of Kerm's travels and the frog's head is beginning to swell.

Had a bit of a disaster in Texas as the 60 spf sun-block (it was 34C there) leeched into my skin and caused a reaction with my eyes. Stuart, one of the tour guides rode my 'bike and Trish and I relaxed in the air-conditioned truck for a couple of hours. All is okay now. 200 yards into Texas we claimed our first rattle-snake but it was his fault for sun-bathing across Route 66. Don on the front 'bike hit it first followed by me and about 6 other Harleys. We hit another about 10 miles further on and have had close shaves with 2 deer and a moggy. We had a meal at 'The Grand Texan', a steakhouse where the speciality is a challenge to eat a 72 os (5 lb) steak plus veggies and a jacket spud in 1 hour. Participants are placed on a central stage with a ticking clock behind them. They first woman was almost heaving with every mouthful and failed then a little Korean guy got up there and demolished the lot in 35mins - Then had a dessert! We chickened out.

This is our bunch onthe Texas Plains.

Of interest to our neighbours, the Grooms, we passed through a Route 66 town called Groom. You have heard of one-horse towns, I presume. Well, this one did not even have a person: plenty of garages, houses and shops but no bodies. We stopped at another almost deserted town called Adrian which is exactly halfway between Chicago and L.A. being 1139 miles from either. We met a strange chap who has the entire 2248 mile Route tattooed on his body and has his shirts cut in various places to show off the artwork. Everywhere down the road are 1950s car just rusting away. You know the sort, lots of chrome grill and bumpers with big tail-fins. Most of Texas as just flat and barren, a bit like Elmley without oilwells.

Yesterday we had to seek shelter from a violent thunder storm and today is a rest day in Santa Fe. The city is a mixture of Mexican/American and Indian culture and is ful of designer shops. The guide told us a lot of 'celebs' hang out here so Kermit feels at home...

Tomorrow we head to Gallup, still in New Mexico and the Harley continues to run well. We are unable to download pictures from these interweb cafe's so will add them on our return.

Adios amigos

We go spend plenty dollar. Si?

Paul, Trish, HRH Kermit and Kermeeta.
XXXX

We've done what Gene Pitney can't...

We are not 24 hours from Tulsa, we are in Tulsa, something Mr Pitney cannot do due to his expiration.
Well, the rains have passed and yesterday we went over the beautiful Ozark mountains and 3 states were covered. Missouri, Kansas and wherever Tulsa is. Not sure what today is or where we go but the sun is shining and the 'bike is running well. Yesterday's 320 mile ride was a bit of hard work but things get easier after this (so Don, the tour leader says).


We crossed the Mississippi yesterday and visited the only bank (now a restaurant) that Jesse James robbed without a gun. Apparently he strolled in demanded money and left $3000 richer. So far so good and the weather is getting warmer as we head towards the Oklahoma dust-bowl. There is plenty of road-kill around here. Yesterday we saw 4 squashed turtles, a dead racoon and were almost taken out by a pair of deer running across the road. Still, it is so much better than the M25. Food portions continue to be huge but thus far we have not entered a Starbucks nor a MacDonalds.

Speak soon.

Ribbit!

Somewhere on Route 66

Greetings all.

We are in Rolla, Missouri (I think). Sorry for the lack of posts as things have been a bit hectic and most of each day has been spent on the road. An abridged version of our travels so far...

Chicago - Very clean and modern city with strange people and stranger food combinations. (Burger, fries and M&Ms anyone?) Day one from Chicago to Springfield, Illinois, us and 14 other Harleys. Springfield is a nice quiet town although we did not see too much of it due to a late start. Some fantastic long stretches of the road which kind of hypnotize so that you forget how to take a corner. The 'bike is running well. Day two took us from Springfield to Rolla, Mo. (200 miles) Nice early 07.30 start and all was well until the rain came with 6 torrential hours but Route 66 is giving us such a buzz that it does not matter. Food portions are huge! Kermit currently resides under the duvet, worn out.

Rain, rain and more bleedin' rain...









Maybe Kansas tomorrow, we can't remember. Type again soon with a more concise report.

Adios peoples!

Paul & Trish
XXXX

So far so good...

The frog is in the hotel and us grown-ups have managed to escape for a lunch (Hotel£4.30 for a Guinness!). All is well. Update tomorrow...

Paul & Trish
XXXX

Inca Frog!

Me again 8000 feet high above the rain-forest and in the cloud-forest in the Andes visiting Machu Pichu. Fun but a long climb for my short legs. Fortunately the humans did a bit of carrying.

Ribbit croak.

The frog takes in Paris.

This is me in 1998 on my first trip to Paris. Fortunately I came back with both legs attached and the picture cannot show how nervous I was. You could smell the fear...or was it that onion-seller?

Test ribbit!