Invitations are not always welcome

Some invitations are more welcome than others.

One lump or two?

Some of these may be familiar.

* Just step forward sir and raise your arms out either side

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It should have been the Jungle Book. (My X-certificate first cinema visit.)

This is the nearest I could get to an image combining both Clint Eastwood and a Jungle local.

At GrannyMar‘s prompting, I submitted this story to See You At The Pictures, a documentary about film-going in Ireland. Er… Sorry Dad.

The first film I saw in a cinema should have been the Jungle Book. My Dad took me to the cinema in Ballycastle, Co. Antrim, one bright summer afternoon.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. But it wasn’t car chases, gunfire and a naked lady

Angry Birds v Lucky Birds

Quick! Buy a lottery ticket, you lucky lucky boy.

When one of the birds of the air drops a little present down to you – do ya feel lucky? Well, do ya punk? Or just angry?

The tradition in Ireland – and maybe other places – is that it’s lucky when a bird poops on you. That dirty yellowy white smear down the back of your anorak or dripping from your ear is… lucky! A fine example of rationalisation if ever I heard one.

According to the highly prestigious website My poptart tastes funny… it depends on what type of bird divebombs you. I’m afraid to say that Magpies are supposedly the worst – which is a shame as it was Magpie who chose the birds of the air as this week’s topic for the Loose Bloggers Consortium. Sorry Magpie. (You can read what the rest of the LBC lot have to say about this by clicking on their links in the right hand column. Just scroll down a bit to find them.)

Meanwhile, thinkers sit out waiting for owls to festoon them in fecal wisdom. (Though they don’t always get what they want.)

However, in one way at least, having a magpie leave a deposit on your bonce would indeed be lucky – when you consider the alternative. I direct you, gentle reader, to that classic song about a small town in Donegal where I had one of my best ever New Years. (To avoid confusion with any other Moville, I’m talking about the Moville a few miles up the road from Muff, which is most renowned for it’s diving club. Honestly it IS safe for work.)

But anyway, the song goes something like this:

Oh the cows they fly high in Moville

Why is it easier to teach kids about Hitler than Stalin?

I’m telling my children about Hitler. But how do I teach them about Stalin?

Looking back to when I was at primary school, I was appallingly ignorant about the Holocaust.

I don’t want my children to be as in the dark.

Paddy the Pigeon

The real deal

This is the story of World War Two hero Paddy the Pigeon from Carnlough in Northern Ireland. Unlike the Desert Fox, Mad Dog McGlinchey, Richard the Lionheart, the Border Fox, Carlos the Jackal and the Black Panthers – Paddy really does what it says on the tin. He actually is, or was, a pigeon.

But not just any pigeon. He was the speediest RAF messenger pigeon during the Normandy landings.

Fake #1

The late (as in dead, not slow) Paddy has been in the news because he’s just been honoured with a fly past near his home. A fly past of pigeons. Loads of them. No doubt local car owners were delighted.

Paddy, courtesy of his medal, has Category Three Pigeon Status. (Category One: Airborne Vermin – includes nearly all  other pigeons. Category Two: Stool Pigeons.