Cat not home

Posted on May 24, 2017 by Steve Morgan

So, there I was at BB King’s place. What else do you do for your 60th? He wasn’t there, but that was my fault, I didn’t tell him I was coming! However, some cool blues cats were present…

Thirst needed to be quenched, so do what the locals do… An ‘Urban South Holy Roller IPA’ might do the trick…

But fabulous blues also seem to drive an appetite. It looks like a hot beef ‘po boy’ is also called for…

So who needed the appetite interruption act? It seems that some cats just get preferential treatment, eating or not.

Maybe I’m just being an over sensitive old git! Clearly some bluesmen have different priorities (if you catch my drift).

Anyway, the whole point of this ramble is just to remind my follower that a visit to Newawrlings is going to provide fabulous experiences, if you are ok about expecting unusual stuff!

Until we speak again, worry more about yourself. I’m just taking in ‘The Big Easy.

Dumbfuckistan resurrection

Posted on March 25, 2017 by Steve Morgan

Let it go folks… once President Obama was out of the door there was no longer an option for dignity and oratory. One Clinton may have dignity, and another may have oratory, but none of them have both. As for the new incumbent… well, viewing from afar is like watching a good friend skidding down the road heading straight into a slow motion car crash.

The 8 year experience of slick Obama speak has lulled us into a false sense of expectation. The new zeitgeist of the nightmarish dark hours tweet fest is beginning to look something altogether different…

Abandoned decaying plane.jpg

Little did we know that the poor little bum-crack combover was being spied on, by the order of the outgoing President and through the skilled practitioners of the UK spy industry…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

There is no value in challenging these facts, because they are carefully disguised in an evidence-free shroud where conspiracy theory has become incontrovertible. To mangle a quote from Groucho Marx “I have facts, but if you don’t like them, well, I have other facts!”

George W Bush might well have been the prime architect of Dumbfuckistan, but for those of you who have lamented its passing, fret no more. Evidence is beginning to pour in from the focal point of the free-world to suggest that Dumbfuckistan has been resurrected and is thriving again in its assault on rational thought.

For a start, just the other day I was browsing my weekly digest of national and international news, when I nearly choked on my personal sense of my place on the planet. It seems the new administration of the country that wants to tell the world how to be has just scrapped requirements on major telecoms providers to take reasonable measures in order to protect our data from the hands of unscrupulous vultures. Then there is the perennial Republican favourite… “want guns, have guns, get your hands off my guns buddy.” Good news for the equal rights for the mentally disturbed lobby, as those declared mentally incapable of managing their own affairs are at least free to buy guns!

20170314_194250

It seems this freedom from rational thinking is rapidly filtering down from the White House and Capitol Hill, to State legislatures. Why, only the other day the good folk of Arkansas realised a way of grabbing a bargain before deadline day… it seems their stocks of killer drugs are fast approaching their sell-by-date. A State that has not executed anybody in 12 years has found a solution to the dilemma of wasting perfectly good stocks of lethal injection juice… let’s have some mass executions while stocks still last!

If the so-called Islamic State were ever in need of some fresh thinking, there is an abundant source of ideas simply oozing from the resurrected state of Dumbfuckistan.

As for Bella, she was always well prepared with a copy of the relevant constitutional amendments for any challenge to her right to take down any animate or inanimate object of her choosing.

Got my papers

Until we speak again, sleep tight, and try not to let those early morning tweets bight!

A Brexit Apology

Posted on June 25, 2016 by Steve Morgan

Bella would no doubt have been looking on with bewilderment at the events of recent days.

Cats are most frequently known for a peaceful nature and openness to form trusting relationships with very different people. They are also known for an occasional sense of indifference to others, wholly wrapped up in the importance of their own world. Here in the UK the 48% of the former were insufficient to counter the will of the 52% of the latter. It would seem that a reflective look back at a sea-faring history has caused some to believe they can conquer the world through an ability to reclaim trading nation status, despite having little or no sea-faring and trading capability left. Welcome to the 19th century, but without the Empire status!

Once there were busy trading ports; but this is the 21st century, and European partners (soon to be ex-partners) share a sense of beauty where once there was busy commerce. The schisms in British society got me thinking more about similarities with European neighbours, and the portside beauty of Dubrovnik and Cardiff is as good an example as any of the importance of sharing. The Old Port of Dubrovnik provides a tranquil setting in which to reflect on a recent message highlighted through the tragic murder of Jo Cox (MP for Batley and Spen) that ‘we have more in common that what divides us’, a thought that has become even more meaningful within the newfound chaos that our nation wants to embrace…

But, if you don’t have the cash (in our newly plummeting market economy) or time to visit Dubrovnik, then Cardiff Bay can compete in the tranquility stakes…

Each has its own special atmosphere at night:

Both are outward looking locations extending welcoming arms to travellers from far and wide:

So, as the sun sets on an era, and we embark on the challenge of a roller-coaster that will ultimately only benefit the ruling classes, I am sure if Juno and Bella were still with us they would be apologising to European friends for an outcome of a unnecessary referendum born out of right wing political panicking.

And a welcome will always be open from Cardiff (even if the majority in Wales wish to become the rump of a right wing England); as some of us search desperately for a place to pray:

Until we speak again, enjoy the chaos and keep the welcome genuine and open.

Lessons from Dubrovnik

Posted on June 20, 2016 by Steve Morgan

Cats just have that way about them that exudes majesty, as they survey all below them, by day or by night. Here is the Queen of Dubrovnik eyeing a late night inebriate on their way home after a particularly pleasant evening of wining and dining…

Going back to apartment [5] cat

Dubrovnik isn’t twinned with Cardiff… unfortunately. But if it was, we would have some very important lessons of history and culture to learn. As you are my one and only regular reader you will know I’ve recently had an issue about how the good burghers of Cardiff are lacking in their sense of civic pride and vision regarding some gems of historical architecture. Juno and Bella used to occasionally make reference to the ‘old git’, but history matters; it defines a place, it bestows a sense of uniqueness, it says something about the values of the people who live and work in a place.

Even by Juno and Bella’s standards of personal ridicule I was not around to capture historic Cardiff quite in the following way…

Old Cardiff pic [1] Old Cardiff pic [2]

But we do have our moments; take St John’s Church late on a summers evening…

St John's at night

Then take a look at the Old City of Dubrovnik, and we really can see why Game of Thrones executives identified it as the perfect location for King’s Landing. A breath-taking view awaits those who venture upward on the cable car to Mount Srd:

Old City from Mt Srd [1]

And a tour of the city walls takes in the complete circumference of the Old City, with stunning views at every turn:

City Walls [4]

Though rumour has it, possibly passed down by cats across time, that back in the 7th & 8th centuries the quirky meandering of the wall was determined by a need to accommodate the dominance of the car:

City Walls [3]

By day (Place Gate) or by night (Stradun), there is no doubting the beauty of the preservation of historical artifice, and the restoration of pride following the fierce bombardment of the city in the war of 1991-5:

Ploce Gate [7] Stradun at night [1]

But still those damn cars get in on the act!

Bell Tower at night

Whether it is the views from the city walls, the narrow streets, or the major civic buildings, Dubrovnik speaks loud and clear about valuing your heritage…

From City Wall [8]

Prijeko [5]

St Blaise Church [2]

And even a quiet walk back to the apartment at night manages to intrigue the imagination, on a stroll back in history:

Going back to apartment [1] Going back to apartment [2]

Rumour has it that cats don’t like water, so next time I will look at how Cardiff Bay and Dubrovnik Old Port stack up. Until we speak again, may all of your horizons be broad.

Blue sky thinking

Posted on May 30, 2016 by Steve Morgan

Cardiff has a researched reputation for being the wettest city in the UK, but any cats put off by a little water need not worry about visiting the city. For a start, 60% of days in the year don’t experience any rainfall! What’s more, on a few of these Cardiffians have even been known to recognise the sun as some mysterious bright sphere in the sky.

So that got me thinking about all of the wonderful sights around the world that are framed by a deep blue sky. And, you know what, Cardiff can rival each of them on its day.

Take Dubrovnik in Croatia, for example. The old port looks quite stunning when viewed on a sunny day…

But then, so does the old port in Cardiff, given a chance…

As for a view of the Sponza Palace framing the blue stuff…

Just try out the Millennium Stadium for size…

Then there is the Koutoubia Mosque in Marrakech, or the Bell Tower in Hydra (Greece); all very perpendicular, or phallic, depending on your outlook…

But any unsuspecting seagull soaring over the Bute East Dock in Cardiff had better maintain supreme surveillance, if a headache is to be avoided…

As for historic finery, the Duomo in Milan has few rivals…

But don’t underestimate the majesty of Cardiff City Hall either…

Raffles City in Singapore and the Lippo Tower in Hong Kong may stake their claims for attracting the awe of passing visitors…

But, be prepared to be stunned when you meander around Cardiff Bay to see the Pierhead Building…

Until we speak again, enjoy your travels, but don’t forget to admire the beauty that exists closer to home!

Culinary cats on tour

Posted on May 21, 2016 by Steve Morgan

Bella and Juno were never slow on taking any opportunities for adventurous dining; usually giving me the dead eye as I was trying to eat, but on many occasions just camping down near the fridge lest I forget there was plenty of cat-friendly contents lurking inside. The question is whether the spirit of culinary adventure was lost on me or not. A recent opportunity arose for a trip to Dubrovnik in Croatia, and when in such a fabulous place there was nothing better than taking the Juno/Bella challenge of trying to eat your way out!

First stop is Dubravka 1836, a delightful restaurant located just outside the Pile Gate of the old city…

The interior decor is a reflection of the historic surroundings…

So, the next challenge is to decide from a mouth-watering menu what to eat. Check out reviews in advance, as they can often point you to signature dishes. On this occasion a Dubravka beef steak coated in cheese presents discerning cats with a rich source of flavours. The Dingac local red wine is a perfect companion to, well just about everything!

After a necessary nights sleep, just to allow the previous feast to settle, and gentle strolling around the old city (see future blog posts), it is time for a satisfying afternoon snack. Restaurant Arsenal is located overlooking the old port… … and where better to sample some of the local seafood delicacies. You can almost see the anchovies, calamari and shrimp queueing up to leap onto your plate! A glass of the Posip white wine compliments the seafood salad perfectly…

Most cats will let you know that fish is the dish of choice every time, so suitably instructed an early evening call into the Koloseum restaurant provided the perfect opportunity to relieve the establishment of one of its delicately grilled Tuna Steaks. Oh, and a glass or more of the Grasevina white wine doesn’t go amiss!

Most places in Dubrovnik old city are back streets, but a meander around the narrow passageways presents an enormous choice of places to re-fuel. One such establishment is Domino restaurant, serving up a tender and juicy steak to interrupt the flood of sea-based sustenance…

You can only eat so much in a few days; a statement that neither Juno or Bella would ever have understood! There comes a time when you need to consider the return journey to the local airport. But not without a lunchtime visit to the starting point of the whole culinary adventure. Dubravka 1836 has its signature pizza dish, and who am I to leave without sampling it? This also gives me an opportunity to see in daylight that which had drawn me in so seductively as a beacon in the darkness.

Strolling back through the old city to the apartment one evening, following an inevitable feast, I had this strange sense that Juno and Bella had arranged for eyes to be kept on me. Or perhaps that was just my over-excited imagination coping with the volume of fabulous vittles.

Until we speak again, eat well, drink well, and don’t feel the need to keep looking over your shoulder!

Cats and water, eh?

Posted on October 9, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Not usually the best of mixes; my relationship with water does not extend very much beyond what you see here… and I’m still waiting for the resident ‘nazi impersonator’ to deliver the cream!

But get a bunch of you humans together, in close proximity to water, and you just seem to freak out.

What’s with the need to jump in, float over, or just stand there looking at it?

Having said that, I do occasionally look out from my elevated platform of dryness and feel a little tempted by scenes on the surrounding canals (some say ‘dock feeders’)… lunch strangely comes to mind!

As much as the deluded one likes to refer to this area of Cardiff as ‘Little Venice‘, it seems this is only small scale when it comes to the watery realms of exaggeration. Just the other day I heard some mutterings about the Cardiff Niagara, I will leave it for you to judge… before I declare my in-house ‘agent provocateur‘ completely bonkers.

So, here is the so-called Cardiff Niagara…

Compare that with the lesser (i.e. US) version of the real mccoy…

And then there is the true majesty of the Canadian Niagara Falls (so easily confused with selective views across Bute Park in Cardiff)…

As if I didn’t need to already rest my case, I offer you a comparison of the raw power of Cardiff v Canada (but you guess which is which!)…

Difficult challenge, eh? Until we speak again I intend to be bone dry Bella, as for you, don’t forget your wellies!

Cats in search of fish

Posted on March 28, 2015 by Steve Morgan

Trinidad cat and Welsh cat converge on unfamiliar Italian terrain, and with noses pointed skywards there was nothing better to do than search out the local catch. But why make this a challenge, when the best starting point is milk-based beverages of choice? The guide tells us that Antico Caffe Spinnato is one of the better pavement-side cafes for the best in cappuccino’s or a caffe ginseng… accompanied by a 7-layered chocolate in-house design, and a wild strawberry tart.

Suitably refreshed, it was time to go in search of the elusive scaly edibles. This place is known for its local fishing fleet and characterful street markets, but where is a street market when you need one? Down back streets and through piazza’s we meander…

Perhaps these guy’s might provide a clue as to the whereabouts of the local fish, after all they seemed as uninterested in strenuous activity as any self-respecting cat…

As we turn one corner after another the clues are hard to find, but as for Garibaldi (Teatro Politeama, that is)… that’s got to be taking the biscuit!

So, we might need to resort to a hope and a prayer at this stage. Never fear, if it’s a prayer you’re after this place is over-run with prayer shops of all shapes, sizes and states of decor…

From cathedral-sized praying venues to piazza-edged confessional sheds, or the simple street vending of pious niceties, this place has you covered…

As we were seemingly running out of the right kind of prayers a sight of a couple of locals emerges, as if to give us a message… ‘keep going’, was the clear instruction, but where to?

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how cool a cat you are, you just need a matter of the luck to fall your way; and so it was to be, as two cats retreat to the accommodation of choice…

The statues of the Quattro Canti were smiling down on us as they shaped up to herd tired cats in the direction of fish-focused culinary delicacies. The Centrale Palace Hotel might not have projected the most promising of entrances, but the invitation to a top floor roof garden restaurant was always a throw of the dice worth taking. A mouth-watering starter of melon and locally-sourced ham or the prawn salad was eagerly supplemented by a Sicilian red wine of clear nomenclature ~ the Etna Rosso:

Then, the journey was complete, as the elusive catch gets caught! A swordfish and capers affair, delicately dressed with cranberries and aubergine, or a finely prepared sea bream were laid out for our magnificent consumption.

Successfully replete, what do you do after such a feast? Well there is always the home of the operatic and balletic cats… the Teatro Massimo provided the venue for the final scenes of the Godfather trilogy:

As Juno would say, until we speak again ‘that’s Palermo for you’! Grazie, arrivederci.

Tales from Dumbfuckistan [4]

Posted on May 31, 2014 by Steve Morgan

The self proclaimed centre of the universe never ceases to leave me and my kind looking dumb-struck or squeezing into any available bunker:

So occasionally, and at serious risk to my psychological health, I feel the need to take it upon myself to report an update for you on the state of affairs common sense seems to be adopting on the other side of the pond. News from the good old US of A frequently helps make me feel so pleased to be residing in downtown Cardiff; even if ‘the Ukips‘ are trying to threaten my immigrant ass by misrepresenting my permanently on the move hard grafting lifestyle…

… as just another food-grabbing scrounger of a vet service tourism obsessed kind of cat.

For the most recent nuggets of wisdom from the centre of the civilised world I strongly advise you get strapped in, but carefully check what kind of furniture you are strapped to.

I appreciate that this planet is under severe self-induced stress from the shear numbers of people, and predicted population rises across the next century. But surely there are other policy options available from the land of opportunity, the brave and the free! First remember, this is the country that is very quick to claim how uncivilised other parts of the world are, and how much better they would be for adopting good old American democratic values. So, what do you actually get for your newfound civilised values?

News from New England… an owner of a gun shop recently received serious death threats when he planned to stock a new style of gun that could only be fired by its owner through fingerprint identification. It would seem that the technology of safety and advancement of scientific possibility only serves to frustrate and oppose the constitutional right of idiots and morons who wish to defend their freedom to re-enact the lawlessness of the wild west whenever they feel aggrieved.

But worry not, you sons and daughters of delicate sensibilities, you evangelists of freedom of thought and speech, innocent proclaimers of murderous intent dressed up as self-defence… if you step out into your world naked because you forgetfully mislaid your guns for a moment, your country will come to your aid. Missed an opportunity to end a life today, fear not, your State might just do it for you! It seems that the self-deluded centre of present day civilisation has woken up to the torture inflicted on some death row inmates by having to administer sub-standard chemicals in their ritual executions.

Lets all take a lead from Tennessee, home of caring and compassion… having recently passed a law of enormous humanitarian proportions which now allows the state to use the electric chair to execute prisoners in cases where the drugs needed for lethal injections are unavailable. After all, it would be so cruel keeping people waiting for the US Mail to get the goods delivered in a timely fashion. It seems that there are at least eight US states now offering its prisoners the ultimate in personal choice… electric chair or injection? Don’t let it be said that bureaucratic decisions are imposed on people.

It is reported that a renewed debate has opened up about the moralities and practicalities of killing your own people. What can the so-called uncivilised world (i.e. everywhere outside the borders of the US of A) learn from the civility of this new debate? Well, Wyoming and Utah are pioneering the use of firing squads, while Missouri (quite possibly pronounced ‘misery’) and other unnamed, but no less shamed, states have discovered alternative uses for gas. And you thought we had nothing to learn from boring old history!

Sleep well in the knowledge that over 140 people
in the US have been exonerated and freed from death row since the 1970’s; while nearly 1400 have departed death row by other means. Until we speak again I will be Juno keeping a watchful eye on the stupidity of man.

[Several images were used from google images in order to best illustrate points in this story. No bloggers were executed in the process, and many thanks are offered.]

Asylum Seeker

Posted on May 3, 2014 by Steve Morgan

And so it came to pass that mathematical uncertainty disappeared down the same pan that had long since been the final port of disposal of any pretensions to artistic flare and dynamic teamwork. In short, the local team fall through the trap door of Premier League relegation, and go back from whence they came a mere twelve months ago. Gloom descends on those who are clearly unaware of the privilege they experience in sharing the Juno household.

So, my thoughts mischievously turn to matters of detention and incarceration for those who have spent a deluded season of misguided hope and expectation. Don’t mistake my fixed stare for anything more than simply a mask of sympathy for those who frequently desert me; underneath I am rolling around the floor in fits of laughter.

I can’t begin to imagine the fear and despair in what passes for the mind of my companion as they are escorted through the foreboding portals of Victorian misery. Surrounded by nothing but haunting desolation suspended beneath threatening slate grey skies where I imagine the colour blue has long since been banished…

Above the stone entrance the last thought for the prospective inmate will be the 1848 etched above the cavernous door. 18.48 was to be about the time that celebrations would be easing having achieved survival on the final day of the season; instead it is merely a portent of when time stopped for the poor lost souls of mental incapacity (aka football supporters).

How challenging it must be to put one foot before the other in a leaden walk into a world devoid of any cheerful welcome, into a place where light has long departed only to be replaced by the grim shadows…

… pierced only by the incoherent screams of those fated to live out a colourless life of inactivity…

What dimly candle-lit expanses of cold dormitory await, where eery spectres lie in wait to disturb any inmate suspected of escaping into the soulful respite of slumber?

Single beds with thin mattresses barely separated by space to move, with every inch of premium real estate taken for wharehousing abject misery.

But surely the undemarcated darkness of night and day is preferable to the grim vitals that constitute the monotonous fare to be served up in the bland surroundings of a grey refectory…

A place where dreams are routinely crushed, and the only source of hope lies in solemn prayers…

Then I hear the key in the door of the Juno household, and in walks a smiling beneficence. For all of my tortured worries and concerns for the welfare of the ‘migrant labourer’, it transpires that they were residing at the Saint Columbas lunatic asylum (circa 1848) in Sligo (Republic of Ireland), but now it is the splendid luxury of the Clarion Hotel… the lucky bastard!!

Until we speak again I am going to be a determinedly demanding Juno, particularly after hearing about the enjoyment of all this hospitality and opulence.

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JUNO's VIEW

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