Poles of the month archive
F irstly I want to tell you about the hackers that have been bothering me of late, like I didn't have enough to do already. I heed all the warnings and take all manner of precautions to keep the buggers out; like parcel taping over the air-vents on my computer; leaving a CD always in the drive, taking the phone off the hook whenever I edit something on here. Yet despite all this those Viagra-pushing sods - yes I'm swearing now - still got behind my scenes to peddle their pharmaceutical fake filth from our most august of websites. Luckily, a nice lady came to our door and sold me this amazing device which looks like a portable TV aerial and she said that if I just put it on a table and pointed it at my computer it will keep the hackers and viruses away. £250 seems a small price to pay for such peace of mind. My son Tom, reckons it's the excessive use of words such as "wood", "sticky-up" and "pole" on here that might be attracting them. I don't know what he means!
Anyway, all of that was keeping me from telling the world that our telegraph pole has now been erected here at TPAS HQ in ruralest middest Wales. And it's a thing of such exquisite beauty that I can barely take myself away from admiring it. This is a telegraph pole that has no function at all other than that of being appreciated.
It's been lying in our yard for months now just waiting for someone to come along and put the damn thing up. That's exactly what the Davies brothers*1 from Llanfair Caereinion & Pentre'r-Beirdd did. They wish, though, to remain completely anonymous, so I've covered Scott (on the left) and James's eyes with one of those black bars you see in the papers sometimes.
When first it went up, I tried to gauge Mrs TPAS's opinion. She shook her head and slammed the door on me. I had to make my own dinner that night too. But the next day, once I'd got the proper head fitted her heart melted and I was allowed to sleep in the house once more and she told me she loved me almost as much as she loves my telegraph pole. All is well with the world. And yes Tom, it's called "Croc-face".