nonamedufus

New year, new title and new pic for this monthly post. What the heck. Got off to a slow start with four books this month. I've estimated I'll read fifty books in 2016. Ambitious? We'll see. I started the year off with a decent book about the Beatles recording history by former recording engineer Geoff Emerick. Here, There and Everywhere is a very detailed account of the Fab Four in the studio. Lots of interesting things here and the guy wasn't the biggest fan of his boss, George Martin, or for that matter another George, Harrison. The latter comes off as a more-or-less talentless member of the the group who needed direction from his buddies at every turn. Not sure what Emerick had against Harrison although he seems to warm up to him in post-Beatles years. Next up was H is for Hawk which I was sorely tempted to ditch. I picked it up because it won several British book awards. The title says it all. It was a memoir... about hawks, and only hawks, other than the d

As the choir soared at the end of the service there wasn't a dry eye in the place. Well, maybe there was one. Or a pair to be precise. Belonging to Bruce. The dry eyes were replaced by a wry crinkle at the corner of his mouth. He, and the sizeable congregation, were here today to bury his twin brother Avery. But Bruce didn't share other people's sorrow. Though he wasn't happy so much as relieved. All his life Bruce had been beaten. Beaten by Avery. While both boys might be described as athletic Avery always won. It started when they were kids playing in the backyard. Avery was always fastest. Bruce actually thought it began when they were born. Avery was born first followed by Bruce and that had set them on their way for the rest of their lives. They competed in athletic events at school. Avery was the fastest football receiver. The fastest soccer striker. The fastest baseball runner. The fastest 100 yard dasher. And so on. Bruce tried to beat his brother but to

Harold had heard the theories. He'd read about them on the internet, He'd discussed them in chat rooms. He'd brewed about them as he tried to fall asleep each night. All he knew was the truth was out there. He was convinced of it. Hell, there were countless televisions dramas and documentaries devoted to it. Intelligent life existed other than that found on earth. Brix and Aberdash laughed. The two alien heads had been monitoring Harold for some time now, noting his increased sense of paranoia. I say heads because they headed up their alien society... of heads. That's right, that's all they were. These two were bereft of bodies. As were the members of their nation. You could say Brix and Aberdash were head Heads. You could. But I wouldn't go for such a cheap laugh. They watched closely as Harold made a trip to the corner store and spent the evening making a tin-foil hat. A tin-foil hat wasn't going to do anything. If Brix and Aberdash wanted to suck out

Hi. Nice party. Yeah, it seems very nice. Are you a friend of the bride or the groom? Actually I am the groom. Oh my. Really? Yes, really. I'm Bob. Bob Broglio. Well that's a unique name Bob. What? Bob? No, no your last name Broglio. No I'm Broglio. Ha, ha. Good one. Gets them every time. Gets who? Me. I always get in trouble over that one. Oh, how so? It's kind of a high class Laurel and Hardy routine, you know? Girls find me witty and charming when I play with my last name. I'd say you were playing with more than that. What do you mean? The bride. She's very pregnant. Yes it's quite a predicament. Well I hope you and Mrs Broglio and your little Broglio will be very happy. We're going to name him Imp. Imp? Yes. Imp Broglio. Perfect. Well that wasn't too hard wa s it. The prompt was imbroglio/predicament from the guys at Studio30+ this week.

Chuck entered the room and made a bee-line for the banquet table. As he crossed the room intent on his goal his mind stopped to wonder why people called it a bee-line. Like why didn't they call it a sparrow line, or a hornet line, or a bat line although DC comics already had that one covered and copyrighted. He stuck out his hand and scooped up a couple of his favourites: onion rings. But wait. His mind sounded the death knell on the onions once he spied the piggies in a blanket. "Hell, he thought to himself "piggies in a blanket can run rings around onion, oh, um, rings". Despite his poor command of the language he nevertheless thought piggies in a blanket was a smart term. You know, linking (get it?) the sausage to a pastry. Sounded much better than cocktail weenies. I mean, after all, what grown man wants to ask people to pass them the cocktail weenies. The phrase sounds so, so, um, diminutive, right? Embarrassing for sure. Imagine going to a baseball game a

I read quite a few books in 2015. 62 to be precise. Fiction, non-fiction, biographies, autobiographies, books about the music industry and musical artists, series such as the Chronicles of Narnia, detective novels, best sellers and simply books written over the years that were recommended to me. Some were e-books on either iBooks or Kindle and some were hardcover editions. I'm not picky when it comes to format. How then to share with you what I thought were the best reads? I read a lot of good books - very satisfying books - but I decided to include only those books I rated 5 out of 5 over the year. In that regard there were only eight. Here they are: 5/5 January Punishment - Linden MacIntyre A riveting and suspenseful thriller from a Canadian author. April Bill Bruford - The Autobiography One of the best musical autobiographies I've ever read from the former drummer for Yes and King Crimson. May Outsider in Amsterdam (Grijpstra and de Gier Mystery #1 - Janwi

Well it was the last month of the year and I knew I wouldn't make it. I'd said back in January that I'd probably read 75 books in 2015. Alas I was a tad short. After adding the 5 books I read in December I came down to 62 books for the year. Still, not bad. That's still a lot of pages, electronic or otherwise. Taking quick look at December's reads, then, I started out with the latest from one of my favourite authors and one of my favourite characters of his Inspector Rebus, who is retired now but is "consulting" the police.. Even Dogs in the Wild was sheer joy. It did not disappoint. Next up was a new author for me, Peggy Blair, and her first instalment of her Inspector Remirez series The Beggar's Opera.The novel takes place in Havana and has a Canadian connection. Oddly enough the author is Canadian. I can't recall how I picked up on this book but it was well worth the read. I'd seen a Facebook friend talk about Burning Down George O