Rochdale: A Town Reprieved

For The Moment -
For who knows what sinister micro-organisms are being cooked up in that secret government lab beneath the Town Hall?  After all, there are some things that Man Is Not Meant To Know.  Quite what Woman thinks of this is unclear -
     Anyway, we're getting off-topic.  Apparently there was no mass zombie outbreak in Rochdale, people were not fleeing in panic, RAF Squadron 9 did not have to drop a couple of W87 nuclear weapons to pre-empt infection elsewhere, and the whole thing might have simply been the popular response to a free concert by B*witched*.  Or was it Boyzone?

Positively itching to zap zombies

     Oh, that photograph of the undead hordes in the town centre?  Simply a normal Saturday night.  Sorry for the confusion!
     Now, what I want to know is the title of that film which (I think) features Robert Mitchum as an arms salesman, something like that, except it may not be him, although it's in colour, from either the Fifties or Sixties.  That's important.  A bit vague, perhaps, but important.
     We shall come back to Rob Mitchum.  Oh yes.  Meanwhile -

Today's Evidentiary Photographs
In fact these are from yesterday and denote Conrad's conscientious pursuit of physical exercise, also of walking the dog, in the hope that this will secure him a bottle of something exotic from Malta**.
     Firstly, have a look at another bush.  Art?

     This picture doesn't do it justice, because it's incredibly garish.  Frankly, it looks out of place in an English garden and, when I become World Dictator <Mister Hand intervenes to redact seven A4 pages of bilious invective> as fertiliser themselves.
     Nor is that all.  Whilst trotting down Tandle Hill Road with dog in tow, an artisan getting kit ready alongside a van declaring itself to be "Greenfingers" called out "Is that a boarder?"
     This caused some confusion as Edna resides at The Mansion free of charge.  Conrad, ever one to complicate things needlessly, then realised the chap meant "Border".  As in Border Terrier.
     We made over to him and he produced a brindled Border Terrier from the cab of his van, Edna dancing at his feet all the time as she is wickedly neglected at home, you know.  Doing well for herself, she did not bark, not once.

The variety that is not Edna

     In the afternoon we ventured up Thornham Lane, which is a misnomer, although shorter and easier to say than "Thornham Serial Potholed Dirt Track", which should not be driven over by anything less than a 4 x 4, or more preferably a Challenger tank.  Art!

     And because Wonder Wifey is likely to skrike if not provided with as many pictures as possible, here is our furry fiend off the leash.  In the absence of other people or dogs she can be trusted to remain in view, and yesterday we were troubled only by a passing tractor and single pedestrian.

Forward Operating Base Nimrod Evolves
Er - but it will all be tidied up by the weekend, honestly.  We have acquired audio-visual capability.

     More Edna, who wanted a game of tugging with her soggy soft toy.  No, Edna!  Take it away and sulk in the corner, fulminating on how the Wicked Humans neglect you.

Clerihews Of Abuse
I thought about whom to offend, and pondered what to say whilst walking Edna.  Then it came to me - those doyens of the South Canadian cowboy film genre! Especially since most of them are dead and cannot thus be slandered, leading to lawsuits and rich lawyers.

John Wayne

Disliked rain.

He got angry if he got wet, 

Which could be uncomfortable on set.

     The weather outside seems to have changed, too, with the clouds now ten-tenths across the sky.  Ahoy, Mister Wayne, you'd better take cover***.  Who's next?

Clint Eastwood

Drinks blood.

He sips it from a crystal glass;

Then he goes out, and kicks ass.

     I know Clint's still alive, but he's getting on quite a bit and probably won't want to waste his few precious years remaining indulging in legal sanction.  Unless - unless that stuff about drinking blood is - er - true - and - hmmm, I don't think I'll answer the door in person for a while

Randolph Scott

Had an ocelot.

I do not mean he kept a pet.

It was cooked, put on a table, and et.

     I think it best to illustrate both Randolph and the ocelot.  Art?


     I trust you can decide which is which.

Robert Mitchum 

Didn't have a stich on.

Sunbathing nude to get an all-over tan,

He didn't want to be an Americ-wan

     I think that's rather good!  Do you see what - O you do.
     "Bandido" 1956 - could that be the film I mean?


*  Good lord aloft, apparently they're reforming.  Why?  They weren't wanted first time around.
**  Malt vinegar does not count.
***  This is rhetorical, as he is no longer alive.  I just thought I'd confirm that.