Hello again!

Following on from the last diary entry about my new hobby of film making (that I acheive using an original 1987 Fisher Price PXL-2000 Pixelvision camera) I am proud to present my latest feature concerning that nice chap Mr Aston McTalisker, who lets me use his greenhouse, and myself.

Hope you enjoy it!

Hi Peeps!

Benji here. You've probably seen that I haven't been on the site much for a while so I thought I'd give you a heads up and let you know what I've been up to recently.

I have started an evening course at my local library in the special needs adult education department. The course is called "How to turn on and operate a video camera for the old and infirm". The first lesson was amazing. I learned what the button labelled "on" did and we learned about what the glassy looking bit at the front was for and everything.

So armed with this new knowledge and a quick trip to the camera shop and I rushed off to Aston's country Estate in Devonshire, England and followed him around with my new camera for an afternoon.

See the results below..

Well my dear peasants, once Benji and I discovered the incredible numeracy skills of the incredible T'Qozi, and the creative and incredibly flambouyant tendencies of Mr Lambone T'Qozi, we immediately agreed that we should have this chap, and possibly a couple of his closest voodo compatriates, come back to the UK and help us circumnavigate our ever growing mountain of tax and accountancy demands. I mean these people have the gift to count twigs. Not just the twigs either, but they can tell you how many squirrels had trodden upon those twigs, how the twigs snapped, and what multiples of snappage their current jungle squirrel value was ( or jungle beaver value if relevant). We realised after a couple of days that these guys had an invaluable but unrecognised talent for potential tax reduction. Oh yes. We subsequently rapidly scoured their land by motorcycle to search for more hidden treasures.

However it shortly transpired that the T'Qozi peoples know nothing of passports, snorkels, or Vicks inhalents, and care even less for formality, and so getting Mr Lambone from his native land to our own home territory proved a bit of a conundrum for myself and young Benjamin.
Furthermore, the total lack of photo booths within the lands of T'Qozi, meant any chance of faking identity was out of the window.

We therefore set about a cunning plan.

Mr Lambone T'Qozi was smuggled from his very country late one evening inside a large crate marked "Live Sea Turtles, Please Do Not Open". It took a mere 41 days before his crate was dropped from a gantry crane at Bristol docks where it was hurried to the airport to coincide with our personal arrival. We duly collected him and brought him by subterfuge to the Westcountry employing the traditional tractor and trailer method. There he was ensconsed within his very own brand new office. He is very pleased to announce that he likes it very much, especially the coloured biros, and multi-coloured paper clips, and is happy to sleep beneath the desk on a nightly basis so his tribal friends, and adversaries, if passing, will see the status he has achieved.

Herewith enclosed a charming photograph of Benji Ferrero rather cautiously, one feels, welcoming Mr Lambone T'Qozi to Bristol International Airport.

Our adventures within the land of T'Qozi continue and I shall endeavour to keep you all informed as and when I can be bothered, which might not be too long in actual fact!

Cheers

Aston

Greetings riff raff and potentially Royalty

Please forgive the most inconvenient interrruption to the fascinating and groovy T'Qozi saga but one had to hastily vacate to Stirlingshire for the measuring of a new and fabulous kilt and one has since been unbelievably ensconsed in workification. Blessings to you all and sundry. Especially sundry.


A

The T'Qozi Adventure Pt 1

Following our visit to Zanzibar, Benji and I got a flavour of adventure and excitement that left an exotic and prickly taste on the tongue. Anyway, we soon forgot her name, and decided a few days later that some sort of exploratory adventure was on the cards. Whilst Benji jetted off to Miami for a weekend of poker and milkshakes, I poured over old copies of National Geograhic, the diaries of Sir Ranulph (hero) Fiennes, and the celebrity pages of Top Hat to try and establish who was discovering where, at the moment.

After several days of gruelling study and four bottles of Tanqueray I realised that the legendary land of the T'Qozi's still lay undiscovered and unchartered. Whats more, no-one could with any certainty, pinpoint exactly within which continent it lay. Aha, a challenge at last!

To cut rather a long and tedious story short, Benji and I spent the next few weeks securing sponsors, equipment and international travel permits and by the following friday stood on the borders of T'Qozi wearing splendid Fuerte Coco surf shorts and Dude Dawg shades, wondering just what incredible fate awaited us.

Well after a few rather luxurious and very reasonable cocktails in a local goatherds bar, we ventured deep into the jungle, led only by our native guide Rubin, and a team of somewhat despondent cameramen who were supposedly filming a documentary on tribal yachtsmen.
After what seemed months (but was possibly several hours) of hardship crawling naked (ish) though swamps and jungle inhabited by venomous biting snakes and irritating hopping tickling toads, we arrived at a small and sunny clearing filled with old tree roots and a rusting Dutch bicycle. There, through the flickering sunlight and tricksey shadows we caught our first glimpse of the T'Qozi people.

Silent at first, and hardly moving, they endlessly counted twigs and ants, as if mesmerised by numbers and amounts. Anything that was stationary, or that moved for that matter, was accounted for by some sign or gesticulation. The T'Qozi did not speak in a language such as we do, they communicated by a series of clicks made primarily by sharp movements of the tongue. Hence the name T'Qozi is pronounced 'click-kozi'. We steadily gained their trust over a number of weeks. At first they seemed shy and easily spooked by our pencils and sunglasses. However once we had shared a few donuts and, a particular favourite as it turned out, Thunderbirds mouse mats, they seemed to trust us and began to share their twigs and ants with us.

By the following tuesday they summoned their dignitaries to meet us. This turned out to be a fellow of immense and respected heritage of a "royalty and voodoo" nature and he called himself Lambone T'Qozi of T'Qozi. Of equal if not greater importance was his (apparent) mother known simply as 'Mama' T'Qozi.

Upon meeting these most incredible people we instantly recognised that whilst they had zero knowledge of western culture, global affairs, or medium density fibreboard, they possesed an uncanny yet natural specialisation for accounting and administration. Within minutes we realised the potential of such talent within the Lazyway organisation and set about securing their transfer to civilisation. A particular bonus we reckoned, was Lambones ability to transform almost any object into a male mallard duck, using his inherently charming black voodoo boogie wherewithall. We sensed a profit.

In further installments we will chart the extraction of Lambone T'Qozi, and also Benji's insistence on following the T'Qozi river sysytem to its source. Benji being a dude who has a natural fear of all things wet, employed the services of respected international expedition canoe consultant Ms Rosemary Carmeltoe to gain the necessary skills required for such a harrowing physical exploit. Rosemary certainly showed him a trick or two and he has not paddled with such enthusiasm since!

Photographs and more to follow!

Cheers

Aston

Hello fabulous fans.

Just to inform you that since ones last postings and previous, one has endured a most terrifying yet rewarding expedition/adventure in the darkest parts of the unchartered world. I have discovered the fabulous T'Qozi kingdom and far far more beyond. Even Benji wishes to learn more of this great discovery and we shall post further details (and stunning photographs one hopes) just as soon as official permits are forthcoming from the official Kingdom of T'Qozi (might cost a couple of biros and a few fun balloon shaped animals!).

How coincidental. I note that young Benjamin has chosen this very night to present his latest diary entry also. Rather spooky seeing as we are in different latitudes of the globe and totally incommunicado at present!

Must try a glass or two of the local finely distilled martrabele gumbo bean cotes du roneo vickers without delay!

Pedal powered communication from around the world....................

Cheers

I see, according to our forum that dude David Blaine is up to his usual tricks again. This time the name he has chosen is Drowned Alive. He is spending his time underwater in a spherical fish tank for no apparent reason and then, apparently is going to try for the World Record for holding his breath for more than 8 minutes and 58 seconds. At least it is only a week this time and not for over a month like the previous "stunt" he "performed". It's a shame that the New Yorkers visiting the Lincoln Center where the whole thing is set up don't seem to have the same jovial reaction to the British public who pinged off some golfballs and paintballed his perspex box!

If you want to, let your voice be heard and make a comment about it here:
http://www.lazyway.co.uk/forums/viewtopic.php?t=100

Well, personally, I can think of better ways to spend a week of my life. Like diving with sharks or Zorbing (which I notice is also being talked about on the forum at the moment) Surely it would even be preferable to sit at home with a beer and watch an interesting film like Riding Giants with the likes of Greg Noll and Laird Hamilton surfing on some truly amazing and terrifying 60 ft waves...

Buy it!

I'm sure it won't be too long before Aston makes his own version, where he demonstrates how to surf down a 70 ft face whilst drinking a glass of claret and not spilling a drop!

Go enjoy the fun stuff

Benji
x

I would like to take this opportunity, on behalf of Benji and myself, to sincerely wish our lovely Queen Elizabeth a very happy birthday. I am reliably informed that her Royal Highness may be a regular visitor to our site and might indeed actively participate in our forum disguised as one of the many humourous characters that we seem to attract. So once again, many happy returns on your 80th ma'am and just because you are looking a little more distinguished these days due to all the years of excellent devotion to your country, Benji and I reckon you were a bit of a babe when you were younger.

Cheers

Aston Mc Talisker