I Don't Have A Trumpet So I'm Ringing This Bell

Apropos The Saying -
"Blowing one's own trumpet".  A few statistics for you, gentle readers - at some point last night this humble blog passed the 12,000 hits mark.  Hoorah!
     Nor is that all on the stats front.  Yesterday, admittedly a double-post day, saw 73 visits.  Today, with only the morning pester-post around, we're already at 46 hits.  Hoorah again!
    A word of caution, however: as things stand BOOJUM! is an obscure low-traffic site, able to libel, slander, steal, appropriate and re-label with complete freedom as the p - excuse me, The Powers That Be - don't know it exists.  Were First Bus, The Metro or Madonna* ever to hear the fearful venomous bile vented forth upon them, why!  who knows how many battalions of lawyers would become involved.

Conrad and bell.
Anyone quoting "My ding-a-ling" will be murdered.

About That New Kitchen Table -
The old one was basically two giant rectangular slabs of MDF, making a splendid sounding-board for the Bass Egg that is on perpetual service in the Mansion's Non-Lethal Kitchen.
     I can hear you asking - "What's a Bass Egg?"
     A wonderful bit of digital kit that you play your i-pod through.  Place it on any horizontal surface and it transmits sound through it, turning the surface into a speaker.

Bass Egg Underside

     A very-much appreciated present from the noble Jane.**
     Anyway, the new kitchen table -

A visual prompt.  Just so we're clear.***

     Is nowhere near as good a sounding board as the old one, as it is much smaller and packs less volume, and perhaps less mass.  Not that things are a wipeout, as the other Ikea worktops also function as effective speakers, and one artist at least performs better here than before.  Go on, go on, ask who, I know you want to -
      - Philip Glass.

Ice Cream Breakfast
I do apologise for having to create a reconstruction here, as normally BOOJUM! is All About The Truth, except when lying through it's teeth^.
     Anyway, Conrad has found out the hard way that guzzling down a litre tub of ice cream first thing in the morning on an empty stomach, also known as "breakfast", can have somewhat dubious effects upon said stomach.
     So, determined to have his ice-cream breakfast, it was only a few scoops of Eton Mess this morning:

CAUTION!
This photograph is a dramatically-posed reconstruction of an earlier, unrecorded event.

     It was delicious.

"Good Books Do Furnish A Room"
That's the motto in the frontispiece of a particular publisher, except I can't remember whom.
     It's not quite right, is it?  Bad books and mediocre books could also furnish a room, and what about Absolutely Outstanding Books?  Although there might not be enough of them to go round.  Okay, forget them.
     It goes without saying that any book Conrad selects is good, however with a total of 595 books on military history space is at a bit of a premium.

Conrad's impeccably-ordered books.

     This space is now absolutely crammed full.  No room left, not even for an Osprey.  Look at the stack of read books waiting to be re-housed:

The ones atop the small black bookcase

     Since I am off for three days, I think a little re-organisation is due.
     NO!  This does not mean books are going to be disposed of - it means other things will have to make way.  Clothes and rucksacks, I'm looking at you ...

The Metro
Ah, the highs and lows of journalism, eh?  Today The Metro both covered itself in - well, no, not "glory", that would be an exaggeration, let us say "moderate praise" instead, before instantly covering itself with a wagons-worth of ordure^^.  Art Department?  Put down those cigars and get working!

What?  They were cheroots?  Pah!

     The photograph and caption now elucidate Conrad as to what all those posts on Facebook going on about "Steve Gerrard's Heat Path" meant.  Conrad, as you know, is not a sports fan, and will never watch the Olympics until Bog Snorkelling becomes a legitimate event.
     Now, right next to that item is some wanton wibble^^^ about One Direction and how one member is after a new girlfriend.
     This is news?
     No, it is not!  It is tabloid drivel of the worst order!  One Direction?  March on a compass bearing of one-two-two right into that handy industrial sausage-making plant, taking The Metro journalist along.

One Direction after processing.
(they still went on to have five No 1. hits)

I think at this point we need to stop and reflect a bit.  If too many people read the blog, Conrad will end up in jail.  Some people will see this as a win-win situation, but your humble scribe is not one of them - you can't get Marmite in prison, for one thing.^^^
     Well, let me leave you with this:

WHAT!  This surely cannot be -

     I once wrote a short story with that title.  Who knew!


* I shall probably refer to her by the codename "Turkey Neck" from now on.
** The one with the chickens.
*** Do you see what I did there?  Do you?  Tell me how clever I am!
^ Which is which and when and where - ain't telling, reader, so there.
^^ Dung.
^^^ It's a yeast product, people will use it to brew alcohol.