A few years back I was reading a boaty magazine. The problem being discussed was scummerage and how to prevent scummers from dropping shopping trolleys on your head as you passed under bridges or gobbing on you or whatever.
One correspondent wrote that he had one of them ‘black widow’ catapults and a bag of marbles and he got so good with it that he hit a scummer right on the forehead (at about 150mph) and knocked him out.
Other readers were not so impressed by his heroic action. They’re so thick (the scummers, not the readership) that they don’t know that you only have to follow a boat to the next lock and then, they they are, trapped.
One correspondent had a very cunning plan however. He keeps a camera (doesn’t matter whether it actually works or not; just have it handy) near the tiller.

A trick I learned years ago, when patrolling the Stockwell Park Estate, was to walk under a walkway and then along, underneath it, and emerge yards away from where it looked as if I might have shown myself again. This cunning practice prevented old tellies and fridges from landing on my bonce.

Back to cameras - I ALWAYS carry my camera with me. I’ve got over 3000 photos on my C and E drives. I’ve had pictures published in the paper (for no money, bastards) and got credited. BUT, the best thing is that it’s like a big gun. With my camera I can make videos and put them on BoobToob. I can make complaints that are very difficult to refute.

If there’s one thing that little bastards hate it’s having their pictures taken. Just the thought of it sends them fleeing into the distance with their hoodies drawn up.

You can get a keyring type digicam for about a tenner these days and I fully recommend that you do.

Anyway, here’s tonight’s quiz question.

Name this bird….

Good luck and don’t forget your camera. You might see something interesting.

Now then, the 2013 Olympics (see what I did there? Gedddit?)
Wouldn’t it be great if the competitors could take as much drugs as they liked?

It would save on all the testing that that they do and even I would pay money to see someone run 100 metres in 3.5 seconds and then watch his head explode.

I’d like to see sharks in the swimming pool and an 18 metre high jump.

Now THAT would be a first for good old Britain.

Vote DRUGS YES
or DRUGS NO

This could be interesting….

Simple question…
Who painted this masterpiece?

You may need to denegativize it.

This isn’t one of my beloved quizzes, it’s a right moan.

You know my two BoobToob films, ‘Notwork rail’ and ‘Notwork rail2′? Well, I suspect they’ve been nobbled.

I can watch other BoobToobs and they play alright but mine seem to be stuck at the first frame.

Paranoid I may be but I suspect someone’s behind this. I haven’t been asked to delete them or anything; they just won’t work. If someone can get them to play (please turn the sound down) then put me out of my misery.

If my films HAVE been nobbled, how is it possible to do that?

‘Notwork rail 3′ is in the pipeline, so we shall see.

Meantime, my publication of their ludicrous work practices seem to have had some effect. They still work at night but they tiptoe around in velveteen slippers and don’t make a racket.

Methinks a certain site manager might be looking, glumly, at his P45.

As will the certain driver of a Pork Farms delivery van. I have a camera and I’m prepared to use it.

ALWAYS carry a camera. You never know, you might earn some money or catch a crim or anything.

Quiz you later…

H.

It is a well known fact that Hitler only had one ball.

That Hermann Goering had two that were very small.

We all know that Heinrich Himmler was very similar and that Paul Josef Goebbels had no balls at all.

BUT.

Quiz o’ the day asks you - how did Adolf Hitler come to lose one of his gonads?

Full answers please.

How was it removed? Who did it? And where is it now?

As a root I’m so sweet to beat,
But some people find me hard to eat.

This one is pretty simple.

How is 87 Hackford Road, Lambeth, connected with this painting?

Google is your friend - and so am I which is why this one is a piece of…

One word connects this pipe:

With a 1969, Ken Loach film,

And Scott of the Antarctic.

-o0o-

As I was wandering about today I was worrying that nanosecond answers might spoil the fun for other quizzers; but then I mopped my brow with relief. After all, you don'’t have to look at the comments if you would rather carry on driving yourself mental even if some Brainiac solved it three hours ago.

Good luck!

Seeing as no one has bust my quiz within the usual four seconds I thought I’d stick another one.
Now don’t you go blaming me; it was SimonG who suggested mucking about with the colourizification.
It’s quite easy as long as you know your [edit] and can denegativize pictures.

Good luck - Heh, heh. heh….

This one is easy.
Who is it that’s lookin’ at you?

Happy hunting!
(Message placed at 17:39 - I’d give it four minutes)

H.

Thank goodness, I feel a bit better today.
Today’s question is about a flower - the leaves are a good hint too.
I did explain to Youngblood about the […] leaves but I expect he’s forgotten.

Anyway, have a go. I’ll try to get back to normal ASAP.

This flower goes by a few names but I will accept the essential one-word answer.

Good luck!

I can’t think of an unGooglable quiz.

First of all a motoring type joke.
See the last word? I imagine that the last word refers to the bill that they present you with.

Now to the quiz. See these pictures of my lovely new car? 86K quids is what it cost. Mind you, it starts first time and I’ve only collected 9 points on my licence in the first week.

Today’s question is…
Can you name the manufacturer of my lovely new car?

There are extra no points at all if you can name the model.
I’ve forgotten what it is but if you get it right I’ll probably remember.

86 grand indeed. Why I bought such a cheap old banger I can’t imagine and it’s difficult to get in and out of what with my arthritis and (health moan ad nausaeam)…

Good luck?

This is getting posted at 18:36 - I bet it’s cracked before I’ve finished my dinner.

You clever so and so’s.

By the way, I had a lovely day (although I didn’t feel very well)

Health moan, health moan, health moan….

Don’t forget to listen to Nick Abbot on LBC 97.3; he starts at 19:30

Kisses…..

H.

The only clue I can give you is that I’ve climbed up this edifice.

Suck on that. I bet no one gets it within twelve minutes.

More clues will follow if this isn’t busted in two bloody seconds as usual.

I’ve been getting very fed-up with brainboxes busting my quizzes within seconds.

This particular quiz will be difficult for those with cathode tans and who never go outside ,but the more energetic might be in with a chance. Or the studious.

Today’s clue: A poisonous plant.

Good luck!

As you are struggling I’ll try to technermogically post a leaf diagram:

Seeing as Mermaid bust my sculpture quiz within seconds I thought I’d better put another on.
Can you name the painter?
Can you name the painting?

It’s one of my faves ever, ever, ever.

Omally came to stay and saved my life by helping with the nameless boat.
He caught a bad case of ‘digging things up’ by finding (what I think is a thirty’s whisky bottle) and some bits of clay pipe stem. Aah, bless.
Now he’s got a new hobby and I bet his garden will get dug up in record time.
He is now a welcome member of Bottle Diggers UK.

We had a great weekend even though the frost on the boat was about half an inch thick.

Anyway, onto the quiz.
Regular readers of my blog may well recognize this picture. A clue might be to listen to ‘The Lie’ by Peter Hammill.

Can you name the saint and can you name the sculptor?

It’s beautiful.

A little while back, someone that I used to work with contacted me.

I gave her a ring this evening because I wanted the phone number of someone else I used to work with but he must have dropped his mobile down the bog (again). She said she hadn’t seen him for donkey’s so we spoke of this and that.

Amongst other things she told me that she had been in Tesco (branch X) and the lad who was going ‘bing, bing, bleep’ on the till reminded her of someone. And then she saw him in profile.

Reported conversation:

“Your Dad’s called X, isn’t he?”
“Erm, yes”
“The last time I saw you I dandled (good word) you on my knee”

It’s a resemblance that I can’t see but he is a good-looking boy. She hadn’t seen him since he was young enough to be dandled but she recognized him well enough.

We talked of this and that and crocodiles and string but we still don’t have Spaghetti Paul’s number. I hope he’s alright.

It was great to talk to you, Bev, and well done for spotting Youngblood as he toiled.

Small world, eh?

a) Name him
b) Name his previous name
c) Name his real name

In this sequence of pictures (sorry, no credit. let me know who took them and I will credit you immediately - my stuff gets ripped off all the time and it’s annoying. Again, my apologies), we see a cormorant scoffing a jack pike…

What a greedy bird.

(UPDATE - I’M TOLD THAT THESE PICS WERE TAKEN BY STEWART CANHAM OF DORSET. BRILLIANT PICS, MR CANHAM, AND IF YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO REMOVE THEM FROM MY SITE I WILL DO SO IMMEDIATELY. SORRY TO HAVE ABUSED YOUR COPYRIGHT BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THE WEB’S LIKE.)

It always pays to talk to the neighbours.
I’ve been talking to this bloke, on and off, about his motorbike and this and that.
He’s from Portugal but I won’t give give his name here.
He saw my paintings and ofered me 30 quids, spot cash, for this. 1/4 done but he wanted it.
Now it just so happened that I owed someone some money that I had borrowed so I tried to bump him up for 35, signed… but he wasn’t having any of it.

We spat on our hands and shook on the deal.

It’s the first painting that I’ve ever sold. I don’t suppose I’ll ever sell another. Taxmen, don’t worry - I spent half of it on drink and drugs and the rest I just frittered away (joke copyright John Cooper Clarke)

He wanted it signed and he wanted a note to prove provenance because my painting’s going to Portugal. I am Han Hinternational Hartist.

So beat that.

(P.S. He said it looked like his sister’s dog)

Can anyone remember an advert which went a bit like this:

(Kid’s voice) “Every one’s a fluffy one".

This one has been driving me mental since Gordon (who I believe has died of motor-neurone disease) posed the question in Brixton Police canteen in about 1983.

Please put me out of my misery.

“Every one’s a fluffy one” in a girly kid voice.

Was it some kind of biscuit?

This hairsome duo were responsible for the theme tune of a political series produced by LWT (clue). The show ran from 1972 to 1988.

Can you name:
The programme.
The musical ensemble.
The track.
The late bass player (it was MOIDER)
The guitarist.
?
Good luck.

Can you name this doll?
In the background is a toad with a banjo. For an extra non-existent prize, can you name him too?

So it’s back to the quizzes. I promise to shut up about painting for a bit, save to say that my latest work is starting to look like Boris Johnson.

Stop laughing.

Sorry, this is not a quiz, it’s just about how much I love using oil paint.
You can shove it around and do what you want with it. Watercolour is very different, you have to be very careful when using wet on dry or wet on wet. But oils…

I put a background of black and red on a large canvas and let it dry for a week or so. This evening I was in the mood to paint so I took it down from the wall and started ona face that I can see in my mind. My hands are covered in paint and my trousis are covered in turps and white spirit (no wonder the psychiatrist thought i ’stank’ of booze).

When I paint I can only do it when I want to. I can sit for two weeks and not touch a brush; I can’t bear a deadline.

And then, bear the drying time, I’ll paint and paint.

The only annoying thing is the drying time because, unlike Rolf Harris, I can’t just stab at a painting - it has to develop in my mind. I cannot and will not ever paint from life. I can draw quite well but so can anyone. GIVEN THE TRAINING. But I don’t want the training or drawing pansies in pots. What I want is to get the stuff that’s in my head out of it. And oil IS the medium.

It’s a bit expensive but I don’t care. The canvases are quite cheap from the Sue Ryder shop and I can paint whatever I want. The painting of bluebells that I gave to my mum for her birthday was the best thing that I’ve ever given her, even though I’m nearing fifty.

The rest of the paintings that I do are quite violent and I’m trying to work out why. When I started doing ‘art therapy’, I thought ‘what a load of bollocks’, but it’s taken me far beyond that. The paintings from my childhood reveal quite a lot of frustration. Now they are violent; beaten men, that sort of thing.

One of them ‘Nosebleed man’ is so horrible that I’ve hidden it (I used to much linseed oil on it) so I can’t see it any more.

Anyway. Before I go to bed smelling of turps and white spirit, my message to YOU is to paint.

Remember what I thought, ‘this is a load of bollocks’, well it’s not. You don’t have to sit outside and paint a pretty lock scene while sniggering kids laugh at you. Paint indooors and paint what you like and if it’s rubbish chuck it in the bin BUT…

Hang it on the wall and do another and another…..

That’s enough about me. I’m going to bed smelling of paint and stuff.

G’night.

All the pirates had their own flags (though none remain).

Which pirate flew this flag and what was his real name?

He gone swung for moider but now there is some dispute.

Can you name this moiderer (who might not have been, depending on whether you believe the DNA or not)?

He was but seventeen years and nine months when he died. A poet and and a forger.

Can you name him?

There’s a song.
Bob wrote it and Jimi covered it.

Apparently Bob said “It’s Jimi’s song, I just wrote it".

Can you name that song?

This little quiz is a record label.

I hope you enjoying scratching your brains, through your ear, with a coathanger, as much as I enjoy setting them.

Good luck - hippies.

Now get out out because I want to live in in it.

What is the name of this gorgeous house?

This man was the best (IMHO) of the Kalifornian underground artists.
As far as I know he’s still alive but now lives in France.

Although I’m not always too keen on his subject they have to be seen, like all things, from the time when they were born.

His mastery of Indian ink would defeat many, many contenders.

Can you name this artist?

And I’ll have a port and lemon please.

Good luck.

Go on, roll up, roll up, ‘ave a go….

Never let it be said that I don’t spread my subjects around.
Look at this delicious cakey-thing - Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, dee lishus
But can YOU be first to name that cake?
Get fighting, girls.

Good luck.

Yes, that IS how you spell Sqezy.

Anyway, who is buried under this, magnificent, lipstick covered tomb?

and where is it?

Congrats to Mort’s Mom for bravely revealing her teenage fancy for boy-crooner, Glyn Poole.

I’ll have to up my game.

I ‘ve put you out of your misery with the missing bass-player.
You’ll just have to work harder at this one.

Notwork Snail have declared war on me.
Therefore I declare war on them.

It is with deep regret that I declare war upon Notwork Snail.

I shall therefore be publishing, with deep unfortitude (I just made that word up - I’m like Shakespeare, me), any videos that I happen to snatch of ‘workers’ shirking, smoking or having a laugh.

I can hardly wait.

Home Guard, Capt. H.

Usually, about this time of night (midnight) there are the shovel-kicking idiots outside, yelling about how much they would give Jordan or some old slapper from the pub one.

Or maybe football (my fave subject).

But tonight, for once, peace.

Peace.

It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Could it be the pisss-down rain?

If so I hope it rains forever. As long as it keeps them away from me the better.

I caught a bloke sitting in his cab, smoking a fag and reading the Daily Star. The engine was running (diesel paid for by you and me) but I couldn’t be bothered to video him as I had an appointment to meet. I just reported him to the station staff.

The trouble with these cunts, and they ARE cunts, is that they don’t give a shit about anyone else. Like when they chopped the pear tree down it was because they couldn’t be arsed to pick up the pears.

Now it’s raining and they can’t be bothered to work. I hope it rains every night for the rest of the year.

By the way, Notwork Snail, it’s YOU who I’m talking about and the videos are STILL on BoobToob.

And, unless you smarten up your act there will be more to follow. The dirt pile leaking into the watercourse, the blocked culvert, the debris on the downside embankment…

GET IT?

They’re all easy. abc.
Anyway, have a go.

Let’s have your answers in abc stylee.

Good luck!

The winner gets the usual old shoe covered in dog muck as soon as I find one on the towpath.

The one he seems to have trouble with is this one:

You’re far too good, you quizzers,

Here’s a different theme.

I expect the answer in about two minutes but
I’m going to bed,

What is the proper name for this animal?

Seeing as all my quizzy pics have been busted within about two minutes, let’s see what you make of this one.

Again, good luck (and ask your parental guardians).

My quizzes are too easy.
So here’s a right bastard that only art-fans will come within a whisper of answering.

Who’s garden is this?

It’s in Scottishland and that’s all I’m saying.

Hopefully this one will last more than two seconds.

Full marks to Merman for spotting that the last piccie was, indeed, Lucien Freud; a painter whose works I much admire.

Sorry, Youngblood. The cheats beat you to tremendous victory over your identification of Neil Hannon.

Better luck with the next quizpic.

We have had quite a few fender-kickers round to see the boat. No offers yet but today’s visitors seemed a little more positive. They want a proper boat instead of the plastic one that they have at the world’s most expensive marina. Our mooring is worth tons because you can just drive up and hop aboard. It has a two-pot Lister engine which sounds great and I hope they get back to us with a sensible offer.

The ordeal was that I had to get out of bed, have my early morning happy sit-down, and try to resemble someone who might be responsible. Then my back (which I had previously branded on the stove whilst fiddling with the fridge) packed up entirely so I had a little bit of a snooze (during which I dreamt of an anaconda) and then we came home.

Will they buy her? They’d be daft not to, for the money and the mooring she’s a great purchase.

Now onto the interesting stuff…

Who is this?

As usual the first in with the correct answer wins a golden prize (except Trouty et them all) or a speedboat or one of my paintings or an old shoe.

Good luck!

Having realised that I made a stchyoopid mistake I have cunningly changed the name on this picture.
Who painted this self-portrait?

Now, no cheating this time, you naughty boys and girls.

Who is this handsome fellow?
Who can he be?

No clues this time, I’m afraid

(Puts on tin hat and erects sandbag shelter to protect quizmaster from all the rotten no-hope entries.)

Good luck!

(Bollocks. I’ve just realised his name is on the properties. I’ll think of a more cleverer one…)