Tuesday, 28 August 2018

Something from the archives.

I have been a little busy lately so I found something from the archives.
  MY BEST FRIEND
I’ve just come home, my best friend has just died, it’s hard not to cry, I loved her, I really loved her.
We’d been together for seventeen years, I don’t know what to say, seventeen years is a hell of a long time with anyone.
It’s funny, when we first met I thought she was far too aloof, too stand offish, I had no idea we’d become so close, so inseparable.
We shared everything together, the good times, the bad, I hadn’t realised how much she supported me, I feel so desperately alone.
Whenever I was depressed or fed up I would talk to her and she would listen in that knowing way of hers and somehow things would always seem better, God I miss her.
I took it for granted she’d always be there, silly really, I knew she was ill but you always hope for the best thinking it will be alright.
When I woke this morning and she wasn’t next to me I knew something wasn’t right, I hadn’t realised how ill she’d become, she always bore everything so bravely.
Instinctively I jumped out of bed calling to her but when I found her collapsed in the loo something told me this was the end, not that I wanted to admit it.
She was taken in straight away but I knew in my heart it was too late, I hated to see her in pain not knowing what was going on, there should be more dignity in death.
I suppose there is dignity in death at the final moment when you let go, it’s the bit before that hurts so much, especially when you’re a helpless onlooker.
All you can do is stroke their head, or reach out to them, not knowing if they know you’re there, but praying they do.
They did everything they could but in the end she just quietly went to sleep, I actually had to ask, ‘has she gone’.
I cried my eyes out all the way home, people must have thought I was mad, but who cares.
The house seems so empty, so strangely quiet, I hadn’t realised how someone’s physical presence could make so much noise, especially someone who used to meow so quietly.
I’m going to put her in the garden now, it’s still her home, always will be.
Goodbye Lionella, I love you, I always will sweetheart, sweet dreams.

Saturday, 25 August 2018

My latest children's book, The Cows Yacht Race.

This is my latest children's book which tells the story of a group of cows who take part in the famous Cowes Yacht Race, I think it's moderately amusing.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Cows-Yacht-Race-Joe-Wells/dp/0993523072/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1535192928&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Cows+Yacht+Race 



If you like the book you can now get the Tshirt.

https://teespring.com/en-GB/the-cows-yacht-race?tsmac=store&tsmic=joe-wells-emporium#pid=389&cid=100019&sid=front 

The Cows Yacht Race White T-Shirt Front

Friday, 17 August 2018

Ban the Burka.

The topic of my blog today may sound a little harsh but bear with me, it was prompted by an image I came across on Arsebook which I will post below.

 Image may contain: 2 people, text

Where do I start with this, firstly this is not a photograph of a nun, it is in fact the actress Audrey Hepburn and this is an image from the film A Nuns Story. Regardless of that I am willing to try to understand what this post is attempting to say.

The other young lady in the photo is wearing a hijab and is one assumes of the Muslim faith, although one can never be certain of anything, it may just be a fashion statement as I think it would be fair to say the lady in question is particularly attractive and wearing quite a lot of makeup.

Assuming that the lady is indeed Muslim, we then move on to the next part of the sentence where it is suggested that she may be oppressed, presumably for dressing in a manner similar to that of a nun. The definition of the word oppressed is; subject to harsh and authoritarian treatment, so I am wondering who would oppress this young lady for being dressed in this fashion? I have no idea.

I am wondering if the person who originally posted this meant to use a photograph of someone wearing a Burka, which is a completely different garment and one which seems to be worn mostly in countries like Afghanistan where in certain parts of the country where the Taliban have control the women are forced to wear the "letter box " type garment and are not allowed to go to school and are severely restricted, one might almost say oppressed. This is completely different from this country where women no matter how they are dressed have the right to do everything a man can do.

Tuesday, 14 August 2018

My new website.

Just recently I have found myself dragged, kicking and screaming into the world of corporate business and the world of high finance, almost! To be slightly more honest I have merely updated my website which to many may seem like one small step for man but to me it feels more like a giant leap for mankind.

Obviously with the assistance of a computer wizzkid I have placed details of all the books and plays I have written which are currently available and have had SEO placed up my backside, which is nowhere as uncomfortable as it sounds. I'm led to believe that the judicious placing of certain words in the back of the website will drive traffic to the site with relentless ferocity, although at the moment it seems to have had an adverse effect on certain of my sites, placing them further down the page than previously.

Hopefully in the future when all the jiggery pokery has had time to take effect I shall be back at the top of the page should you search for Joe Wells, although one can tell there has been a difference by the adverts which are appearing on this site alone. Two of the phrases inserted were, children's books and adult plays, by which I meant plays for adults, however the algorithms seem to have picked up on the word "adult" and is placing adverts for adult dating sites. I may have to remove the word "adult." before I am inundated with advertisements for sleazy adult strip clubs and the like. 

Well, that's about it for now, all that remains is the grand unveiling which I shall attempt to do myself without the aid of a safety net as my computer wizzkid has now gone home.



I lied my computer wizzkid is still here and did a rather splendid job of inserting the above with the link to my new website, please make your way there with all haste and purchase as many books as you can possibly afford. Thanking you in anticipation.

Saturday, 11 August 2018

An obituary printed in the Times.


I can take no credit for this blog today, for it was sent to me by a friend and is I think a sad indictment on so many things that are wrong with modern life. There is nothing more to add, goodbye old friend, we will certainly miss you.


Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years.
No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

- Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
- Why the early bird gets the worm;
- Life isn't always fair;
- And maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death,
-by his parents, Truth and Trust,
-by his wife, Discretion,
-by his daughter, Responsibility,
-and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 5 stepbrothers;
- I Know My Rights
- I Want It Now
- Someone Else Is To Blame
- I'm A Victim
- Pay me for Doing Nothing

Not many attended his funeral because so few realised he was gone.  If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Wednesday, 1 August 2018

Too darn busy.

Too darn busy.

I’m going to cheat today as I haven’t blogged for a couple of days and repeat this on my other blog  http://www.joewellsofwhomithasbeensaid.com
My excuse is that I have been far too busy and I stress I have been far too busy, as opposed to the modern version, way too busy which grates on my nerves every time I hear it.
Monday, the man came to fit a new electric meter as ours had broken, he took all day and did a splendid job and when finished went round to check that everything was working and with my assistance found the fuse box, of which we have many, which was playing up, I jiggled the offending fuse which then meant everything was working correctly and he left.
Tuesday, we realised we hadn’t checked whether the boiler was working and amazingly managed to get our plumber to come round and find the loose wire which was stopping it from working. You don’t realise how many possible things there are to go wrong until being asked by the plumber where is the, boiler, fuse boxes, timer, hot water cylinder etc, still I got a free work out, up and down the stairs for nothing.
Wednesday, the light in the kitchen finally gave up the ghost, so I went out and purchased a new one and some new bulbs to go with it. Upon completing the job I noticed on the instructions which were inside the box that you could only fit 35 watt bulbs which necessitated a return to the shop to replace the 55 watt bulbs I had originally purchased. I wondered why the maximum wattage for the bulbs was not written on the outside of the box, which might have saved me a trip. All well, except the modern bulbs are so dim we can hardly see the other side of the room.
Thursday, welded the arms on the other garage door which I hadn’t time for last week and swapped the better ones to the garage that gets used the most. Washed and vacuumed the 1947 Bentley.
Friday, took my wife to her meeting and went back later to pick her up. Went to the Vodafone shop to see if they could fix her phone as it seemed to have stopped working as it kept going to answerphone. The chap fixed it in two minutes as we had inadvertently set the phone to “do not disturb” mode, a common mistake apparently.
Saturday, went back to the phone shop as quite a lot of her contacts had gone missing as we had tried to fix the previous fault by inserting a new sim card. “All your contacts are stored in the cloud, they can’t get lost,” said the assistant. Some considerable time later when he finally gave up trying to find the contacts we left resigned as to having to reinstall them manually.
Sunday, you’ll never guess what we did today! Spent most of the day finding my wife’s contacts and inputting them to the phone, an extremely tedious task.
I have recently joined a networking group called POP Connect to promote the books that I write and most of the people in the group are business people who have full time jobs, which caused me to cast my mind back to before I “retired,” when I had a full time job and to wonder, how on earth I ever found the time to do it.