Monday, 30 November 2009

AMK vs Zoolander

Proof enough: here I am sporting my label of choice. Not only that, I've mastered my own version of Blue Steel.


Sunday, 29 November 2009

This Week, AMK Recommends...

Underneath my cot there are three big boxes full of my old clothes. I'm four months old.

Now I'm a boy of style and taste, hence the storage issues (fashion is a fickle mistress), but Daddy is a tramp. According to him my sartorial pride will always come second to the appetite of the moths in his wallet, which is why he's banned Mummy from buying me any new clothes.

Thankfully, Mummy has discovered a loophole in this draconian dictat from heir Daddy: Teddington has a super cool baby-wear charity shop called Fara! All the people in Tedders who are less miserly than Daddy donate their clothes to Fara and then all the people who are misers - like Daddy - come and buy them. This means the posh people feel all virtuous, the misers are happy 'cos they get a bargain, and - more importantly - the children of Romania get a helping hand courtesy of Fara.

So, the first recommendation of the week goes to Fara and their lovely kids shop in Teddington.

But that's not all. After picking up a fine selection of cast offs I can now recommend my label of choice. Now, if it were up to Daddy I'd be wearing sensible, comfortable and cheap clothes - quite possibly sportswear akin to the tat sold and modelled by this awful man.

My clothing brand of choice, however, comes from the same nation as all the finest fashion houses. Unlike the ape Ashley and his shell suits and replica football tops, I'd like to think Saint Laurent himself might have gurgled and giggled in Petit Bateau. Without wanting to go all Gok Wan, the cut of even their vests is exquisite. So despite Daddy's ban, as long as Fara are peddling used French fashion I'll be looking a million dollars. Or eight million francs. Mangetout.

Then there's always for when I'm feeling a little more street.


Strewth! Was that You Dolly?

With the highest rainfall on record anywhere in the UK, Cockermouth in Cumbria has just suffered terrible floods.

Apparently the world is getting warmer, which means it rains more and we've all got to do our bit to keep it cool. That includes cutting down the number of times we go to warm places on holiday. Confused? Wait 'til you hear this.

About 16% of Australia's greenhouse emissions come from agriculture, so Aussie scientists have said they are hoping to breed sheep that burp less as part of their effort to tackle climate change. (Depsite popular belief, burping is a far greater cause of emissions in sheep than flatulence, so they say.) Experiments will help them understand whether excessive belching is genetic, in which case they can breed less gassy varieties.

I suggest they simply stop taking their livestock to the pub and start weening them off the amber nectar.


Friday, 27 November 2009

Shake, Rattle and Roll

It turns out I'm not the only thing to emerge from inside Mummy this year.

Now that I've lost all but the least squemish of my readers, I shall expand. As noted in an earlier entry we discovered that Mummy has lots of stones in her belly. A very galling state of affairs, apparently, that made her tummy hurt lots.

So today we all went off to the hospital - not mine but another one that looks like a giant pub from the outside. (This made her feel a little less worried and actually quite excited.) We stayed for a while and watched Deal or no Deal in Mummy's room. The nurse came in and wanted to play with me, but frankly she was getting in the way of Noel and I was glad when she'd put Mummy's funny socks on for her and left.

But then Daddy and me had to go home. The poor old soul had to do my tea and get me bathed and ready for bed. After turning the house upside down and making a bit of a hash of things, Auntie Stephanie arrived and saved the day. I like playing with my Auntie and Daddy's not so bad really. But I miss my Mummy.


POST SCRIPT: I can confirm Operation BoulderDash has been a success! I was promised a rattle afterwards, made with the very stones themselves. It turns out, however, there were enough boulders in there to build a rockery!

Lost & Found

Anyone seen that damned caterpillar?


Sunday, 22 November 2009

Oh the Shame of It.

There are those who set trends. And there are others who follow. Although I admit there won't be many people following my 'Gay Pirate' look, it seems my hair-do is having an effect on popular culture. Sadly, the imitators are the half-witted talentless-twins from the X-factor talent show: John and Edward, aka 'Jedward'.

Time for reinvention. Perhaps a 'fro?


Just Monkeying Around

It's the weekend at last. After 5 days of lunching with the ladies it's a chance for me to spend some bloke time with the old boy. Or so I thought. By the time I'd awoken from my mid-morning nap, Daddy had disappeared to play golf again. Yawn.

Still, I had a splendid time with some of Mummy's friends from her glamarous agency days. Darling! Luke and Catherine came to visit with Holly, who I let play with my stuff and steal just a little bit of the limelight. She was very nice and we had a tip top time.

After my new friends had left I'd virtually given up hope on spending any time with Daddy when he re-appeared, all down in the mouth after hitting his ball far too many times. But within just a short while we were off to see Billy and his Mummy and Daddy for some fun. Over in downtown Kingston (it's a bit rough but I like it), we arrived at their nice big house and got down to playtime in no time. Billy let me play with his toys and even let me have a bath in his bath at bathtime (as I went first I shared a pearl of wisdom from Great-Grandpa: 'don't drink your bathwater').

After me and Billy went to sleep, it seems the old folk had a late supper and played games until it was up-time. M&D looked a bit green in the morning, so while Billy watched TV I monkeyed around in the kitchen with my new chum.


Monday, 16 November 2009

Is it a Bird? Is it a Plane?

Today was the last day of our trip abroad. Wales seems a fine place although if you stay too long there's a jolly good chance you'll develop webbed toes. I fear Nanna has been there just a few days too long already. You see, early this morning the sun battled through the dismal, grey mizzle for a fleeting second; forgetting what it was, her first reaction was to shield me from the great ball of flame in the sky. It was very courageous of Nanna but entirely unnecessary: another day without any sunshine and the lack of vitamin E would have surely led to the early onset of rickets.

We're all going back for Christmas, which will be fun. Auntie Stephanie will be there too and I'm hoping she might take me out on a boat. And if everyone wants mackerel for Christmas breakfast, I'll see if I can convince Grandad to get his fishing rods out.


Saturday, 14 November 2009

Who Needs an Ark?

To escape the floods that would purge the world of all evil, God tipped-off old Noah and suggested he might build a bloomin' great boat. With the rains lashing down today I thought some sort of flood contingency would be sensible, but didn't have the tools or parts to fashion a giant ark.

The next best thing, of course, was to learn how to swim. So I popped on my new trunks and went splish-splashing about in the pool under Nanna and Grandad's flat; after a few lengths of butterfly, here I am having a little rest.


Friday, 13 November 2009

Over the Bridge and Far Away.

Today Mummy and me arrived in Cardiff. It's in Wales, which is a long way away - even further than Norfolk. We had to pay to drive over a big bridge, which seemed unfair given how people leaving to get to England can cross for free.

By the time we got to Nanna and Grandad's I was pretty hacked off (Mummy got lost somewhere between Morrison's and Toys'r'Us) but Nanna was on hand to make everything alright again. Grandad and Daddy, meanwhile, had to battle the elements and unpack the car full of all my things (really must remember to tip).

It was nice to see everyone again. (It turns out Daddy spent his 'me time' drinking beer courtesy of Channel 4 and traveling all the way to Edinburgh to watch 'A Christmas Carol' at the cinema. Ha!) Nanna and Grandad live in a nice big flat over-looking the bay where all the boats are. Largely because it was blowing a big hoolie, we decided to stay indoors and watch the racing at Cheltenham. Here's Grandad and me cheering on Loosen my Load in the 1.15.

Sadly for Grandad, the excitement of it all did exactly that.


Thursday, 12 November 2009

Wimborne Book Festival. Sort of.

6 Whiteways is fast becoming a home from home for me - a country retreat where I can pursue my interests and hobbies away from the cut and thrust of city life. While taxidermy, model making and fencing are still very much on my 'things to do' list, reading is currently my number 1 pastime.

Daddy has encouraged me to read the great French thinkers (Goscinny and Sempe mostly), while Mummy is keen I take part in the many cultural debates of the day by leaving me copies of Ok and Heat. But in all honesty, you can't beat a good yarn about animals told in a maximum of 10 words and published on cloth.

Here's GG helping me flick through my current favourite (although I caught her out reading it back-to-front here - you can't kid a kidder, or a kiddie).


Wednesday, 11 November 2009

Talk to Me Goose

Well, it seems Mummy has sent Daddy off packing for more 'me time' so we made a dash down to Dorset to see GG and Grandpa. So far it's been a lot more jolly than last time as it's only been me doing sicks and poos.

I spent some time this evening with Grandpa, who was telling me all about his time in the Royal Air Force. The Queen gave him a medal once for not ejecting and saving one of her planes when it was in trouble.

Here he is re-telling it blow by blow, but thankfully he stopped short of throwing me through the ceiling.

I tried to explain to him that there's a chap in TopGun named after me who has a nasty ejector seat incident, but I'm still struggling to articulate my words and I think it was lost on him.


Sunday, 8 November 2009

I Forgot my Sling and Stones. No Matter.

As I spend a lot of time biffing-up my giraffe, elephant and lion, Daddy thought I'd like to watch this video clip. It shows David Haye (our boy) taking on the Russian giant Nikolai Valuev (I'll let you work out who's who).

Haye overcame the imposing physical threat of the Russian, not to mention the immense psychological challenge, by running quickly round the ring. This frenzied dashing, ducking and diving seems to have bored the giant thus giving Haye the occasional opportunity to punch his knees. After going the 12 rounds, this tactic earned our lad a clever points victory and the WBA Heavyweight Champion title.

Bravo "Hayemaker"!


P.S. To give Mr Haye full credit, it seems he broke his hand in the third round by foolishly punching Valuev in the face: "His head was like a giant brick"!

Saturday, 7 November 2009

Everyone's a Critic. Including Me, it Seems.

Thank you, dear reader, for taking part in the great vote. You have now given me a mandate to bore you with my musings on things and to recommend them to you. I suspect "Which?" magazine will soon be deferring to this blog before making any rash verdicts on their own.

What does AMK recommend this week? The Poppy Appeal.


Wednesday, 4 November 2009

Anyone Seen My Caterpillar?

Tuesday, 3 November 2009

NCT: New Children in Training

This life, it's a daunting thing. There's just so much to do, to learn, to understand - for both Mummy and me.

Thankfully, we're not in this alone: we have a special gang! Before I made my grand entrance back in July, Mummy went to special baby lessons with 4 other ladies. Daddy went along too apparently, but only for the tea and biscuits.

The lessons were all very well but from what I remember on the big day, I don't think M&D were calmly discussing the syllabus; the best thing about NCT is having ready-made friends. Here I am with Hannah and Felix. Felix is the one who's in training to be an opera singer.

Like X-Men, we all have different powers and together we are a formidale force. Christy can roll over at will; Hannah sleeps whenever and wherever she wants, irrespective of the (DIY) noise around her; Lana can stop people in their tracks with her cheeky smile; Felix can lock his legs and pretend to stand up; and I can issue disapproving frowns.

There are gangs like ours all over. But we've got Borders in Kingston on lock down - you better watch yo self.