Garbled randomness.

I am now thinking whisky bottles. Okay, I think that a lot, but suggestions for bottling have led me to thinking that the whisky bottles with push-in corks are a good bet for the plum wine. The corks are easy to insert, the bottles and corks are already mostly sterile from being in contact with whisky, there might be a residual whisky taste but that does not seem like a bad thing to me and most of all, I’ll enjoy emptying them. As the Blocked Dwarf pointed out, tight screw caps could cause bottle-explosions if I have not fully stopped fermentation and it’s been a while since my last brewings so I’m re-learning the art.

In the news is a Tory who thinks women are better than him, and who has an expression that suggests something unexpected has just entered an out-of-shot orifice. Well, they are all from public schools…

I suspect all women, also most men, and some geckos would be better at his job than he is. Who voted for a man who hates men? Did you? Well don’t do it again. It’s silly.

For some reason i have reflected on some of my past misdeeds this evening. I don’t know why I have taken stock of my life but it didn’t take very long because I can’t remember most of it. One thing that stood out was elocution lessons.

In one job there was a girl who was very quiet-spoken to the point where the clattering of an 8086-driven 3.5-inch drive (it was 1989 when the Amstrad computers were still worth having, just before 2086 were state of the art)  could drown her out. Our Great Leader was exceptionally English with the sort of accent you’d hear at polo matches and garden parties. He wanted to send her for elocution lessons but he didn’t want it to look like he was singling her out. So he picked out two others to go with her. One was a bloke from down Devon way who always sounded like he was talking while trying to swallow a cider apple and who talked so slowly I could write papers in between his sentences. The other was me.

At that time I had a mixed Welsh/Scottish accent which was incomprehensible anywhere on the planet. I can still adopt the full horror of it whenever I want but it’s less bad now. It still takes some getting used to for most people.

Elocution lessons were within work time so I was paid, I didn’t have to pay for the lessons and so I agreed to go along even though I knew the poor elocution teacher would not win. We spent an hour a week standing in a line going ‘mmm’ in various tones (it came out as ommm a few times and she had to correct me) and other tone-generating things, some of which have since come in handy for terrifying people. I can growl like a lion now.

Well, I came back to weekly meetings with what-ho boss with a different regional accent every week. I’d spend evenings all week practising them. Full-on Geordie ‘Why aye, bonny lad, it’s reet grand this ellycution, ah’m loornin fine noo woords an’ all’. West country, Glaswegian ‘Oh fuck-aye pal, see me, ah’m crackin’ it, me.’, Brummie, Lancashire, and finally I did his plummy accent and he hailed it as a success at last.

It was a success, for me. I learned a lot of voice control tricks that were of immense help when I later learned cold-reading (one of the tricks used by stage psychics) and I looked into that because of the bollocks that was ‘Most Haunted’ and pretty much every TV ghost hunting stupid pointless paranormal crap on the television. Those shows invented Romulus Crowe. They once spent ages communicating with a mouse in the walls of an old house. What a bunch of morons.

It’s also fun at work at Local Shop. When bigwigs call I adopt a West Country Yokel drawl and act like Benny from Crossroads. They think I am that dim and leave me alone.

Finally, the government thinks that childhood must be extended until it hits senility. Basically, you drones are children. We real people already knew that. In real life of course, children are smarter than drones because children still ask ‘why?’. Drones never do.

I’m over 50. Anyone under 30 is still  a child to me but that does not matter. since I do not make laws and have no interest in doing so.

The report’s authors are dicks. It does not matter when you learn to drive. When you are learning you are a novice and it makes no difference if you are 17 or 70. Putting up the age will have no effect at all. Learners make mistakes no matter when they start. It is just more government by bollocks.

Stop voting for them. You are just making things worse.

Voting these days is like picking at a sore. The more you do it, the worse it gets.


8 thoughts on “Garbled randomness.

  1. The thing with push in corks (as with sherry and whisky bottles) is that they don’t seal very well. Which is fine is you have something that doesn’t spoil easily such as spirits or fortified wine, not so good for regular wines though.


    • If you are storing wine for any length of time with a push in/flanged cork then you seal it with a shrink on plastic sleeve , they will make it airtight but will still give enough to release the CO2 if there is a secondary fermentation and the cork needs to rise (they always have ‘air vents’ in them).

      Or be a total cheapskate and put a ballon or a condom over the push-in cork.


  2. You might want to check with local bars and restaurants that serve sparkling wines. Whiskey bottles are nice but the glass is thin and cannot take any pressure. If you had some ‘champagne’ cork wire cages you could wire the shot corks from the whiskey bottles down and hope excess gas would escape without pushing the cork out. A better approach would be to take away the empty ‘champagne’ bottles (might have to fight with home beer brewers for them) and put caps on them like beer. New caps and a crimping tool are cheap and the cheapest ‘champagnes’ use caps and only look, because of the foil wrapping, like they have wired down corks. These hold from 750 ml. to 1L and can handle any pressure generated from residual sugars (you might even add a charge of sugar prior to bottling to guarantee the plum wine sparkles). Getting some iodine from a brewing shop is essential to sterilizing the bottles and equipment if you want your wine to avoid becoming vinegar. A quick soak and drain and the iodine is gone as the bottles dry.


  3. I’ve been making home brew wine for years, and enjoying your blog, and have never had a problem with wine in a bottle as long as it’s been sterilised. Plenty of red wine vinegar has been produced, but that’s just me being under the influence of previous brews and not sterilising things properly. By the way, all I use is the cheap Tesco/Asda etc. baby sterilising tablets. Oh, and also the tapered corks in ex screw top bottles. Good luck keeping it. Me! Syphon it out of the Demi-John.


  4. I don’t care about anything ! Yesterday driving to a company piss/up meeting at a rather nice country house hotel, whilst waiting at some traffic lights I saw a small child, maybe 6/7 years, resplendent in chaps, holster, slouch hat and gunbelt with holsters, aiming a toy rifle at a varmint at the other side of the hedge.


  5. I must add to my earlir post, if in this awful world a small child can still be a pretend coyboy shooting pretend guns at a pretend baddy, then the world is alright by me.


  6. Dear Leg-iron

    The constant fiddling with laws and regulations, whether EU or Westminster driven merely demonstrate that the lawmongers have run out of things to do.

    All real laws were made centuries ago and can be written on the back of a decent sized envelope. The EU alone makes new laws faster than a man can read, and we are supposed to know, understand and obey every single one of them – the thousands made up to date. plus those they are currently writing faster than they can be read, and keep abreast with case law, and understand each new interpretation of the law by the courts at every level.

    Good luck with that.

    When children of my acquaintance pass their driving tests I congratulate them and tell them they can now learn to drive: all they had learnt was how to pass the test.

    I’m still learning after rather more decades than I like to think about – I wonder where my life went …

    Smoked ciggie number 2 of Starttober today. Because of inclement weather, I smoked it in the garden room. All I have to do is open the door to get a ghostly reminder of how pubs and clubs and some homes used to smell.

    Ah, nostalgia. It ain’t what it used to be.



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