MM - UNLEASHED !

Play it again MM....

2012-02-21T10:41:00.000-08:00

As you know, MM likes lager and convivial and decent conversation occasionally, whence I then go to my local nightspot to indulge in the serious pursuit of Carling BL appraisal, and to attain some lively banter on anything from current events, to the mating habits of the mythical Latvian hermaphrodite, (a conversation that generally takes place closer to last orders, and between me and the chair leg usually).

I recently discovered my favourite haunt, The Friendly Firker, was launching an attempt to draw in the "younger crowd," and decided in their dubious wisdom, to add Karaoke to their list of attractions, in an desperate attempt to give the place some ambiance. (Usually Ambulances are the only thing it attracts..). It's Japanese they said, and you get two for one and sushi or something.... "Sorry MM, people were complaining about your strip domino games, and the shove halfpenny hangman with real rope was getting too dangerous," the barkeep informed me...

From what I later gleaned from the experience, once balance was restored, is that by simply adding a text prompter, (which also was in large print and braille for the Stevie wonder fans), a few huge PA speakers and excessive amounts of alcohol, even the most tone deaf can become Pavarotti, Englebert hump the dingy, or Lady Gaga, even without the 10 foot shoulder pads, and the vice police in attendance. Having somewhat of an awesome reputation in the aforementioned pub, (I've never been stabbed/glassed there), I usually get the best seat in the house, which is a corner stool next to the stage, (the one without the bloodstains and with almost level legs).

I must have done something to annoy the club owner, a rather large, tattooed barman with one eye, we affectionately named 'Crash' because of his penchant for throwing himself off the bar head first, and bouncing off the flag-stoned floor for his party piece... but upon mounting my throne the other night, I found that a rather large speaker had been nailed somewhat precariously on the wall, and at ear level right next to my head. The electronic nightmare remained silent during the earlier part of the evening. I knew Karaoke meant silent orchestra, but I was beginning to wonder what the point was, perhaps they were trying to attract the deaf pound or something ? who knows ?

Erstwhile we, i.e. us middle/old/decrepit denizens of nefarious intent, and dodging the grim reaper twice weekly, partook of the 'two for one' happy hour specials, (two pina colanders (Pint size), and one half pail of Old Bulchers paint stripper, 1940 vintage), one of the benefits of getting there early. I was getting racing tips from Gethin 'Gonzo' Emmanuel-Hughes, (an much admired local sheep worrier), and the resident wino who sweeps the floors and clears the tables for copious amounts of scrumpy Cider (Or the drip trays he isn't fussy), when a screeching voice in an octave high enough to shatter glass, began warbling what may or may not have been, "Stop In the name of Love".

Stop in the name of God and all that's musical, would be nearer the mark.. the only resemblance this rendition had to the classic tune was the words. Having my nether regions shaved with a cheese grater would have been considerably more agreeable. Fortunately half way through, the microphone decided enough was enough as well....

It was awful, but, like a moth to a flame, you can't look away can you ? The next budding crooner, a rather well blessed young ethnic lady 19 going on 13 I think she was, wearing her skirt for a headband, and who was having a hard time navigating to the stage, after 23 WKD's and 4 'sand-blasters' or something, had all eyes in the house on her as she gyrated and belted out an almost passable version of Tammy Wynette's, "Stand by Yo' Man, y'all," over the catcalls and requests for her to "stop the grinnin' and drop the linen," (I sometimes get mildly boisterous after a few largers).

Gonzo favoured us next with his Otis Redding classic that, I'm certain, had Mr. Redding spinning in his grave, "Sitting on a log with a tray...getting splinters stuck in my bum...". By now, I was certain it was time to call it a night, the toilet seemed further each time..... and knowing I was nearing my limit, I asked Crash to call me a taxi, because somehow, I had acquired a lithp and pathable degree in thrpeaking thwahilli from somewhere.... "OK, you're a taxi ha ha!" he said, (there's always one isn't there ?) did I tell you he was witty ? Usually he's a banker give or take a consonant...

Unfortunately, taxis are hard to get on a Saturday night 100 yards outside the town centre and they want danger money and an armed guard.. and Crash was quick to inform me that it would be at least an hour before a cab could be dispatched, because the Hospital was choc-a-bloc ... and they have to hose down all the upholstery, after yet another outbreak of Kebabs. He did, however, offer to give me a ride home later if I didn't mind staying until things slowed down a bit. Discovering my legs had already gone to sleep on me anyway, I agreed.

In a never ending cycle, drunk after drunk took the stage to favour their adoring and drunken fans, everything from Britney to Whitney, jangled every nerve, 'girls just wanna have fun", and then they throw up and fall off the stage ? I'm sure isn't in the dance routine but I did wonder what the net and mop was for......... "We are the cheeky girls..." sung by 4 'girls' that won't see 60 again, except from the dark side.....Yet another atrocious rendition of 'Angel' was being screamed at us, and you prayed to Satan to return as soon as possible, all is forgiven.

Their alcohol induced bravery, propels even those with the mildest of personalities to the stage to take their turn at the alcohol and saliva-stained microphone, to showcase their erstwhile unheard-of musical ineptness, of course, most cannot even read the auto-cue by now, and have forgotten which millennium they are in. This is called 'prime time' for some reason... the best time to sing, because nobody cares anymore, and undoubtedly will not remember.

Being seconds from sticking an ice pick in my ear to save my sanity, when none other than my annoying next door neighbour, in the company of someone other than his wife, took the stage to secure his moment of fame. Things were looking up ! Being an erudite blogger, I am always in possession of a small digi-camera, to catch that elusive scenario no-one else has ever done, (my photo collection of 300 knees and headless wonders is second to none....). Short term memory is one of the first victims of muddled age (Now what was I talking about..... Cricket ? Spleen-Splicing ?), anyway, my close proximity to the PA speaker made capturing the snap a sure fire ticket to get my own back on said neighbour, as easy as taking candy from a baby (Bad for their teeth anyway).

His miserable excuse for a dog, had repeatedly unearthed my favourite roses, and even the pepper spray seemed like Lynx to him, I complained, but said neighbour had only laughed...My neighbour and his paramour stood nuzzling and cooing, cheek to cheek, belting out a rather bone-numbing version of "I Got You Babe." I think she resembled and had collected what Cher had lobbed off frankly, there isn't enough liposuction hardware to straighten that lot out.... but.... I was thinking the very same thing, BINGO! the drinks are on him for the next few months, and, the dog gets it...

I got a picture of the smiling illicit couple with a mobile phone too, to add graphic visuals to my next presentation, the next time I see him. As the evening neared it's end, for some inexplicable reason, (probably the 11 lagers), the ballads actually began sounding better, the livelier tunes had set my toes a tapping, (or it might have been St Vitus's I wasn't sure....). The evening ended on a high note (C sharp I think...), and as a threat (Sorry TREAT), to the remaining patron/s, I took the stage to favour my adoring fan/s with my usual and impeccable version of Frank Sinatra's, "My Way." to be followed by my show-stopper 'The last Waltz', for those still erect enough to 'smooch'. "I wonder should I go, or should I stay...." , I warbled in the time-honoured fashion, sadly, most insisted I go, and NOW ! if I wanted to live and didn't want to resemble Frankensteins ugly sister, after a botched face lift, (which is valid advice, fair-do's.).

The roaring, standing ovation that followed my final note had me almost floating back to my stool on a cloud of ecstatic euphoria, and brought a tear to the old eyes, YUSS !! MM, you still got it.... an encore was unheard of, yet..... dare I hope ? until I realized that the highlights of a football game were being aired on the wide screen TV beside the stage, and the applause was for a brilliant winning goal by Donaldo Frigzbotzja, or someone else with an Irish name, playing for Wigan.... and I returned to my stool, slightly deflated, Crash was kind enough to serve me a final beer, (the previous owner was unconscious and wouldn't miss it...). Smiling, he said, "MM, I really loved those songs, Who sang those ?", I said, "Ole Blue eyes, Sinatra sang the first, and the other was Englbert Humpydumpinky... Why?", "Well next time, let them sing it, OK?"

Acceptance...

2012-02-21T10:23:00.000-08:00

MM was recently awarded first prize by his local newspaper for blogging excellence (OK only me and a dyslexic 83yr old entered but...). Here faithfully reproduced (Only the truth is missing), is my acceptance Speech for Best Blogging Newcomer to my local paper. It IS true I got an award for it.... really !

Thank you! Oh! Thank you! (Don't stop, or the cheque will), I can hardly believe this, I feel so lucky! and this wonderful wonderful prize, (pound shop must be green with envy....), and it's so heavy! I'm sure I can find a use for an old brick somewhere... someone is bound to leave a lap top on a car back seat ...

Thanks too for the detailed instructions... Oh, thank you again! I just want everyone to read our local tabloid, and that not even in my wildest fits of self-loathing, I never would have frantically prayed that this could ever help me get laid so much, and I'd just like to offer thanks, to the other second-rate nominees, that didn't make it, I want each of you to know how totally vindicated your jealousy makes me feel right now, losers.....

You know, when they first told me I was a God reincarnated on Earth, I just had to take a minute and brag about how great my experiences at local rag Blogging has been. I guess, getting this award, it all just makes me feel kind of humble and unique and special (I AM getting paid for this I hope ?).... You know, there are so many obsequious leeches to thank. First off though, I want to thank our esteemed editorial judge, our very own Mark, who looked deep within his wallet, by-passing many moths on the way, before giving me this fantastic award (Sniff....), another 400 and 49 and I can fix my front wall......

Also, I want to thank my guru and fellow blogger Bobby G, for being such a powerful force in ensuring I am a hard act to follow, and that spurs me on to even greater glories, and also again for Bobby for offering to sabotage Gill to get me up here where I obviously belong. Male Power !

Bobby taught me to take life by the horns, (although neglected to mention the pitfalls of toxic cow pats), I can tell you now he really isn't as grumpy as he makes out, it's an act... he's a right B*****D in reality, but then he does live in Monmouthshire so we have to make allowances, wouldn't you be miserable ?.... Finally, to the personal assistants I fired - I couldn't have done it without you! Keep on Blogging.....

Thank you, and good night.... Blainau Ffestiniog to you all.... Nos Da.

P.S. I thought we agreed 500 ? not 50p and a free copy with melon juice thrown in next Friday? Look it's in my contract ! can't you read ? under section IV para 6...under extortion.... Free ? look sunshine is free, that effeminate actor with Grace brothers was free, I aint.. I gave up the Exchange and Mart for this ? Mark has been on holiday 6 times this year... Tredegar counts as well, so don't come it sonny or I'll find a use for this brick.

On the Run...

2012-02-21T01:55:00.003-08:00

I've been accused of not doing enough for charitable causes (True). So I have volunteered to raise £500 welsh pounds during the 2012 Olympics.

Albeit I don't do excersize, or like baked beans, do I look thick or wot ? I intend to raise all this cash from the confines of my own armchair in between frequent bed rest, but raising money just the same. I was challenged to run the London Marathon once (Like the New York one but you don't get a stiff neck looking upwards)....but declined because I would have to leave Welsh soil, which wasn't acceptable, My passport was out of date and I didn't want to be arrested as an Illegal immigrant, you can get too many perks you know.

Instead I suggested that I would, WATCH this Olympic spectacle as a bona -fide couch potato (More a poor-man's French fry but still...), to raise funds instead. As friends of MM know he hates TV (which he is convinced is the devil's tool, and there is a whole army of very strange people hiding behind his set), and thinks sport viewing is for the sad and deranged, so this IS, a REAL challenge to me.

When the Olympics start, I will haul myself out of bed and sit in my armchair determined to do battle with the noxious box, and watch all the weird people who get sweaty, dress up in silly clothes with numbers on, run for miles, throw and kick things about, then collapse in a heap for fun.

Last time I watched an Olympics I finished my viewing in the record time of 4mins 17 secs, but the BBC carried some adverts, and started talking to some idiots who took part, so with no loo break, and only an empty beer bottle for comfort, it took 6 mins 54 sec, so I had to lie down for an hour afterwards.

It was won by foreigners mostly as I recall, British participants having more sense than run about getting wet and tired at a time when the bars are already open, Paula Radcliff then was waiting for the sun to come out to leave them in her wake, but couldn't be ar**d. They had an techno item, and virtual pictures of Buckingham Palace, (So Americans might tune in and won't feel left out presumably). This hyper-technology also 'tracks' celebrity runners, like Richard Branson (Who ?), anxious to plug his latest balloon, (which shows the mind-numbing depths these TV people have sunk to).

Sponsorship will come I am hoping from Flora 'I can't believe it's not sanitized dog poo', and will chip a few coppers toward my fund-raising. Via 888 TV captioned/titling I hope to get the odd laugh like I had last time watching the disabled Olympic teams, albeit 'Musk collar entropy' was an issue I confess, I hadn't been aware of until today, so good on you BBC for raising awareness of that (erm...so what is it ?). Last Olympics I also saw piccies of the London Eye, which Looked like a big wheel to me, but perhaps Londoners can see something I can't, also the Tower of London which I last read about, was a rat catchers paradise, but Americans all love to see that stuff don't they ? and they love our quaint cultural habits of yore, how we Brits adore torturing our animals, and kicking the shit out of our kids for fun, didn't we invent slavery too, which made America what it is ? Brings tears to their eyes (And someone else to blame I suppose).

Where would Australia be without our bread thieves ? How else would Ghandi have made a bomb cornering the sandal and John Lennon spectacle market ? Britain deserves a lot more credit than it's given... We put the great in great nelly ! I was put off by the endless adverts from the BBC for the Olympics, (either that or it was an ad for a hula-hoop convention), I thought I had inadvertently switched to ITV for a while.

To sum up, I'll be tired, but warm, proud to be a taffy, and grateful to have raised the dosh, so cough up for a good cause (And I only take 4%). That will then my sporting lot for the charitable year. I have reluctantly turned down a suggestion I should do the same and watch the New York Marathon. Once a lifetime to watch silly people dressed up as female impersonators, fluffy rabbits, pop stars, ballroom dancers with big orange wigs on, dressed as batman and robin, Xmas cakes, and kites is enough for me, would it make MORE sense if Americans do it ? How would we be able to tell ? And they call me weird.

Donate to my private account in Llanfair PG thanks...

Beep....Beep ?

2012-02-21T01:27:00.000-08:00

Beep Baby you can drive my car, and maybe I'll love you... beep-beep, a beep-beep YEAH !!! the Beatles said it, but car drivers are going ga ga basically. They're the new hoodies. Take my ex-neighbour (PLEASE and I'll provide the straightjacket), he has never walked to the corner shop in the 8-9 years I've known him, 150 yards is a long hike at 23. He'd drive there for a bottle of milk, a newspaper, going a good mile or so out of his way because of one way streets etc, he'd take his dog too for 'excersize' and his child for a 'trip' out as well, he was bone idle basically, he also worked only 3 miles away and could have used public transport easily.

He uses £500 worth of satnav to get there as well....DOH !!! These people should have their cars taken off them.... or inserted into them. He should see a quack if his memory is that bad.. Not to be outdone the ladies nearby clog up every damn road within 5 miles of a school three times a day, because either serial killers are stalking our kids, or the kids will feel socially deprived and in need of a social worker, if made to walk the half mile or so to their homes, cruelty beyond belief, (it's called excersize apparently).

I'd walk to school AND back most of the time a good 3 miles each way, rain or shine (Mostly rain), my parents couldn't afford the fare. Afterwards parents who would rather drive than eat, get home from a hard 4 hours tail backlog, or doing the area roadway equivalent of the dodgem track, and find said kids are demanding you drive them to clubs, groups, pop concerts, and boozers, as well. It's bad enough as they're probably 38 or something and should really be finding their own way by now.

People now spend more on their cars than eating, drinking, or talking to anyone. They're bores, the biggest there is, "Ere Bert, my overhead camshaft disccumbooberator needs servicing, know anyone who can do it for less than £5,000 ? Like my new number plate ? The spelling looks iffy to me.... had it made special I did, it was cheap too, only 3 numbers missing off it....

Each sunday you'll find them tinkering around with engines and stuff, if the government is worried about oil shortages, just hoover up their drives, we're back in business..... Then they're using half a reservoir to wash their cars, (usually in the rain), and then spending a small forune on polishing it as if it was the crown jewels or something, despertaly trying to convince other car nerds, it is less than 2 years old, for the shame of it. It's affected family dinners on a Sunday. Soon as the gleaming pile of scrap is finished Dad gets a brilliant idea, let's all go for a DRIVE !! (Wow that's a first), they usualy then sudjorn to the nearest Burger Bar or fast food garabge disposal point, and down enough cholesterol to fry a herd of buffalo.

"I get a little breathless walking to Macdonalds, I'd never be able to without my car, and it's 'quality time' with the kids isn't it ? ", which seems a good enough reason to scrap it to me.... heaven forbid we talk to them.... bloody new age nonsense, my parent never talked to me, didn't do me any harm....

Hello ? what's those funny things sticking out of my Bum ? LEGS ? what are they for ? you can do OTHER things besides pressing pedals in cars with them ? It'll never catch on.... It used to be £30 a week to own a car, now I gather, it's nearer £60 all told with hidden and other obvious taxes, in the realms of fantasy if you've got more than two..... Should we not treat persistent car drivers as addicts ? perhaps open national branches of Car Users Anonymous to treat this Automobile Addiction ? "I can't live, work or climb mount everest without my car.." some bespectled moron on TV was stating the other week... so try Mont Blanc for goodness sake, get a life.......

"I just would have no social life without my car...", another woman bleated after driving 50 yards twice a day, to see her sister. Yes you would dear, cars make poor conversationalists take it from me, I've never had a decent discussion with any of them, Vauxhall Astras are particularly difficult to pass the time of day with.... and Ford are all show offs....

Look at Jeremy Clarkson, (Better still let's NOT look at Jeremy Clarkson), he's made a living out of showing viewers how fast cars can be driven, (without having brain surgery), but forgot to mention no road in the UK allows them at that speed, you have to find a desert in New Mexico or use the Saraha to do that, or race around Spanish roads mowing the natives down...details, details... still if people get fed up of him showing off, they can always watch him being a grumnpy old git on TV instead, the only thing he has going for him is he takes the pee out of Foreigners, but, we all do that anyway....

On Languages and Holidays

2012-02-21T01:08:00.003-08:00

Zao an ! fellow Bloggers, wo shi ni de ba ba ! ni yao niao niao ma ? (which as every school child is soon to know, means Bore Da, I'm the daddy, do you want the toilet bach ?). Vital phrases they will all have to learn, if schools gets their way with the curriculum again. So you thought Maths was a bugger ? try counting this way yi, er, san, shi, wu, liu, qi, ba, jiu, shi... just gets better don't it !, just when I have just grasped the vagaries of un, dau, tre, pedwar,, they move the bloody goalposts again... but hold on a Mao ! they also may have to learn Urdu, so Salam Alekum/Subha Ba-khair! kids, Kya onion Bhajis.

It seems fraught with issues if you ask me, so having abandoned Welsh (And English), in many of our schools, Schools are to tailor our kids edcaution to meet the demands of the modern world, vital indeed, if we are ever to emigrate to Asia, or the middle east looking for a job, I thought we invented sweat shops not worked in them ? When are we likely to go to Beijing for a job ? Languages broaden the mind, it broadened mine.... I read on one web site, that deaf people who use sign language also want that taught to every hearing child in education as well, so our kids are going to be real busy... and the draught is going to resemble an force niner....

Languages are supposed to be useful for holidays too. I recall a holiday to Greece some years ago, when I went to with my mate Daffyd, I didn't parlez any francais, (or knew stork from butter but...), we Brits are interpid travellers, so long as there is a toilet nearby, and we don't have to drink the water, or have to talk to the natives. I went via Athens, I was greatly surprised, I had booked for Milan, but... because Athens is a typical greek one horse town, with a ruin on the top they charged me 50p to look at, (you'd think with all that dosh they're put a roof on...), it's what comes of being stuck in that no-man's land of the euro, Ianto (the Brick), would turned that into luxury flats, or a drive-in Tabernacle in no time.... .

The guide said this is the centre of Greek learning and Zeus lived there once, I can see why he left. I said all that education, and they still didn't realize a roof kept the rain out ? Dew ! even we know this.... The language tended to be a bit iffy, it was hard work getting a drink there, they drink ouzo or something, which to the uninitiated, is like diluted Squid pee (for those who are conny sewers in squid pee), and after a bottle or two, it tends make you believe you are Mario Lanza on speed, Daffyd's rendering of Daffyd ap yr darran Gwyn, after a few bevvies brought the house down and attracted half the Greek Navy..... (All 6 of them), they ended up throwing their china at him. I didn't think he sung that badly...

I tried to buy some some lagers, and started off (as you do topically), to induce a bit on Bon Homme ((But not too much, I still like the ladies), and went with the time-honoured, "Oi Davros ! wasn't you in Dr Who ? lololol, Exterminato ! Exterminato ! Ca va ? se voo play, two TWO !! parlez booze, biggos...izze play comprende luvvy ? I was kept waiting hours, I said to Daffyd, bloody 'ell Daff, it's harder than trying to find a welshman in Cardiff innit ? Daffyd has all sorts of levels (And a few uneven bits), in languages and colloquial wotsits, he's well known for it, (although he's served his time, fair do's, give the boy a chance now...), and can commune with his sheep by proxy (Well. it's all legal, and it is the milllenium).

Let me have a go, he says, you have to pitch it right, it's the foreign temprement boyo, one wrong inflection, or over accentuation of an adverb, a slip of the intonation, a veritable over emphasistic of the extrapolariazation, and you could end up marrying the local donkey at the very least, and she aint all that pretty...so mind you out of the way...you've got to expect they're a bit slow....they put lime in their tea or something foul.... they talk funny, and they can't play rugby, it's all that garlic I expect....

I always admired Daffyd, he's been banned everywhere, and is a true citizen of the world, he can order beer in 57 languages....RESPECT ! what he doesn't know doesn't bother me, because I only drink beer anyway....he then launches into "OI garkon ! 2 pints of old Zeus's paint stripper, or I'll start shouting, Cyprus for the Turks....!! kapish ? nope... he's not getting far either, dew its harder than I thought he said, must be a branch of Greco-de-milo, I'm none too hot on that...... or we're in Switzerland... AH ! he said, the peso had dropped, (and I'm not picking it up, I've heard all about Greeks and their Kebabs, and over fondeness for mutton), he shouts, "Jawol mine petite ! there's a lovely lad you are indeed, your mother's beauty is equal to Medusa's, and I bet your father has sired many goats hasn't he ? (He's trying the subtle approach clearly), dilch bier ya ? un quicko as you please maestro bach, in throato parchio.. "

15 minutes later, two waiters turn up with a dead goat on a plate, with an orange in it's gob, and a side order of lentils, I begin to suspect Daffy's Greek isn't quite up to it... We're still banned from Greece apparently, not that I'm bothered, I never liked Demis Roussos anyway.... Franco had it coming..... or is that Portugal? Perhaps I do need a course in Madeira..... Shanghai lido here I come..... As you can read via my holiday memories, and the wide amount of travelling I've done, it has boosted my language skills and world geographicl awareness no end......... and established a brilliant mutual admiration of the welsh culture with the rest of the world. No doubt why, the European parliament,drew a map of Britain with Wales under 60 foot of Irish sea.....

So who needs Europe anyway ?

Bugger Trafalgar and Nelson...

2011-12-05T10:41:00.000-08:00

"Order the signal, Hardy."
"Aye, aye sir."
"Hold on, that's not what I dictated to the signal officer. What's the meaning of this?"
"Sorry sir?"
"England expects every person to do his duty, regardless of race, gender,sexual orientation, religious persuasion or disability. What gobbledygook is this?"
"Admiralty policy, I'm afraid, sir. We're an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil's own job getting 'England' past the censors, lest it be considered racist."
"Gadzooks, Hardy. Hand me my pipe and tobacco."
"Sorry sir. All naval vessels have been designated smoke-free working environments."
"In that case, break open the rum ration. Let us splice the main brace to steel the men before battle."
"The rum ration has been abolished, Admiral. It's part of the Government's policy on binge drinking."
"Good heavens, Hardy. I suppose we'd better get on with it. Full speed ahead."
"I think you'll find that there's a 4 knot speed limit in this stretch of water."
"Damn it man! We are on the eve of the greatest sea battle in history. We must advance with all dispatch. Report from the crow's nest, please."
"That won't be possible, sir."
"What?"
"Health and safety have closed the crow's nest, sir. No harness. And they said that rope ladder doesn't meet regulations. They won't let anyone up there until proper scaffolding can be erected."
"Then get me the ship's carpenter without delay, Hardy."
"He's busy knocking up a wheelchair access to the mess Admiral."
"Wheelchair access? I've never heard anything so absurd."
"Health and safety again, sir. We have to provide a barrier-free
environment for the differently-abled."
"Differently-abled? I've only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn't rise to the rank of Admiral by playing the disability card."
"Actually, sir, you did. The Royal Navy is under-represented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency."
"Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons."
"A couple of problems there too, sir. Health and safety won't let the crew up the rigging without crash helmets. And they don't want anyone breathing in too much salt - haven't you seen the adverts?"
"I've never heard such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy."
"The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral."
"What? This is mutiny."
"It's not that, sir. It's just that they're afraid of being charged with murder if they actually kill anyone. There's a couple of legal aid lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks."
"Then how are we to sink the Frenchies and the Spanish?"
"Actually, sir, we're not."
"We're not?"
"No, sir. The Frenchies and the Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn't even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a claim for compensation."
"But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil."
"I wouldn't let the ship's diversity co-coordinator hear you saying that sir. You'll be up on disciplinary."
"You must consider every man an enemy who speaks ill of your King."
"Not any more, sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest; it's the rules."
"Don't tell me - health and safety. Whatever happened to rum, sodomy and the lash?"
As I explained, sir, rum is off the menu. And there's a ban on corporal punishment."
"What about sodomy?"
"I don't know about that sir."
"In that case ...kiss me, Hardy."

He's BEHIND YOU Stupid !

2011-11-30T10:53:00.000-08:00

With Kung Fu lessons at the interval....

I'm going to see Cinderella in my local theatre soon, and I got to the thinking of the last time I saw this panto, which was probably when sepia was in and we paid a shilling to see it. The show was half way through and at a point where Poor ole Cinders was for some reason locked in a cupboard, mainly because the performance was done by an very poor director who couldn't afford an kitchen backdrop..... next to me sat a few disabled people with Downs Syndrome, one in particular was really getting in the the swing of it, and had been very vocal re the "Where is he ? he's BEHIND you !!!", thing, and had even cleared the stalls a few times to point it out, and been dragged back.

He was obviously unhappy the cast had poor eyesight or something, but the lead part of the show, decided to stretch it out a bit, and whip up some hysteria amongst the kids by keeping up the pretence, they really didn't know where poor ole Cinders was... clearly our enthusiastic compadre in the next seat got really annoyed with this, and after the umpteenth time of "Where is Cinders ?" was shouted to the assembled crowd, he stood up and shouted "She's in the effing cupboard, are you effing blind ?", which brought the house down..... A star is born. He should be there every night...

Panto's have changed a bit since my day, we used to love the bits in-between, the story was only secondary really, to running around the theatre like a headless chicken, and throwing half-chewed toffees at the people in front of you. You'd get the decorator gags and slapstick, the skeletons flying above your head, the wicked witch, a pop star or TV weather presenter or three, dressed in tights trying to look serious and failing abysmally, you prayed for the curtain to fall, preferably on them....and custard pies galore, now it seems a little throw-away, and they stick ballroom dancing in for some reason..... Whatever happened to the bouncing ball song ? I wondered. Here's one...

Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers
Oooh That isn't so hard to say
But try it five times, fast as you can
It's a little bit harder that way

One slick snake slid down the slippery slue
That isn't so hard to say
But try it five times, fast as you can
It's a little bit harder that way

Peter Piper picked, a peck of pickled peppers
A peck of pickled peppers, Peter Piper picked
That isn't so hard to say
But try it five times, fast as you can
It's a little bit harder that way

ALL TO-GETHER ! (Chorus)

Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers
That isn't so hard to say,
but try as you can
you never can say
wot the 'eck, do Vicky and Bek
Use to scrub and clean their neck
and they wear red thongs around their neck !
I really shouldn't say..

They didn't even drag up some unsuspecting urchin and humiliate them for a free box of chocolates, so we could wince as they cried their hearts out (ahhhhh...), as we used to enjoy, sadly times change. In my day when the villain came on stage you had to hold us back, to prevent us crippling him..... he'd get more missiles lobbed at him, than an adulterer in downtown Tehran, or the corporation Bus drivers, you used to get them ongoing things, like, every time an ugly sister or witch came on you'd have to shout ... LETTUCE !! LETTUCE !! let the rabbit eat LETTUCE!!! (?), or something equally obscure in your loudest voice... which was guaranteed they said to annoy the villains every time.. it bloody annoyed me... especially when there was no rabbit in it, but two rather dubious blokes inside a cow, or a talking cat or summat, all rather iffy if you ask me.

It's gone gender positive as well, instead of he's behind you, he's behind you !! to inflame the audience, it's LOOK OUT !!!! LOOK OUT !!!! she's in FRONT of you !! ... (and wearing beige... ughhh !). Dandini really is a bloke now.... but with an errant wrist action, and a civil rights message to boot, and the ugly sisters all look like Katy Price (a bit better looking really). We now get Idle Jack played by Lady Ga-Ga clones, and the DWP chasing her around the stage for benefit, and bean tax evasion, and selling livestock without the appropriate health clearance forms.

Long John Silver hasn't a parrot, because of the avian flu scare, and he is allergic to feathers, so he has a stuffed marmoset instead, or a cornflake packet. Baron Hardup played by David Cameron was deemed too scary for children so they got John Prescott....... that would be worth seeing... but ease up on the eggs or he'll thump you. "It's prudent to marry off my two step daughters to royalty....", etc.. and hope social services don't cotton on the fact his own daughter is a skivvy in the cellar, (Played very unconvincingly by that Albanian asylum seeker with a lisp I thought), although glass slippers are now out because of health and safety laws or something, and she wears snow boots, and has a child or four with no father in sight, so set to coin it, so why settle for second best and marry a Royal ? They pay tax now don't they ?

I gather Cherie Blair has just turned down a lucrative offer for a leading part in 101 Dalmatians, pity, they had 100....doesn't seem the same 'though.

The Twitter song

2011-08-19T10:46:00.001-07:00

@all Ha ha He He He
An twitting twit
for all to see
I'll talk crap
for all to read
A happy twit
is wot I be
I go online
and pretty soon
you

Don't text me, I'm British...

2011-08-09T05:01:00.000-07:00

"Hey Dad ! I got an new App that can translate local slang...", "Erm.. what's an App ?" "Hang on I'll ask.... it translates that you are over 40..."

What with clouds, androids, windows 101, and BBM messenging, I need to get with it or be left with my megaphone and land line. I did buy an mobile phone, but it ran out of credits or something. I paid one £10 fee and didn't know you had to buy more when that ran out, so used the phone to prop the table up with and considered it now had an use.

I am anti-social because I find that more social to be. Anti-social is the new black or purple... On the Bus today I was surrounded by people with wires sticking out of their heads and almost every person on that bus yakking away completely oblivious to everyone else, they play what passes for music but appears to be an hissing sound like white noise, which apparently no self-respecting teen can do without....and a few teenage girls crying and looking very upset they hadn't a call in the last 10 minutes so were 'twitching or tweeting' or something, in case they had fell off the end of the world, I explained the bus only went to town nowhere else.... and the shops are probably better on Pluto but..

I pointed out to a few of them to consider the sensibilities of others who do NOT care to know your business and would rather you sit in silence on public transport and SHUT UP! I even tried sign language and cod Swazi, but no go.... perhaps they only respond to texts ?

Sadly they were so engrossed in poking the things they didn't realise they had been spoken too, it was like an mass outbreak of deafness... if these things are meant to make people more social, it isn't working, two girls were texting each other whilst sitting on the same bus, rather surreal. Apparently unless you get an fone call every 2 minutes you are some social pariah or weirdo. I was the weirdo apparently because not only did my archaic mobile not have an camera on it or the internet, I never have it with me, and cannot for the life of me remember the number, except it is longer than an pi calculation... Naturally I never give the number out to anyone but essential services. I've joined the car poor, and now technical poor fraternity, which is rather nice, and you get a quiet enough life, not being phoned all hours and being asked what I had for tea today, or had so and so been shopping, I mean who cares I don't.

Meandering around the internet (I do pop in from time to time), there is some gizmo that will block mobile telephone signals, so I had sent away for one and next time I go out and about a few are for a surprise..... I just want to see what happens when 35 mobiles go dead for an hour.... I'm told it could possible lead to mental breakdowns and even people having to speak again, but I'm willing to take that chance...

Bluddy Neighours !

2011-07-28T02:27:00.000-07:00

There is a huge house in our street. The extended family is run by a grumpy old woman with a pack of irritable dogs allowed to run without leads. Her car isn't taxed or insured and doesn't even have a number plate, but the police still do nothing. To the best of my knowledge, she has never worked in her life. Her bad-tempered old man is notorious for his racist comments. A shopkeeper blamed him for arranging the murder of his son and his son's girl-friend, but nothing has ever been proved. All their kids have broken marriages except the youngest, who everyone thought was gay. Two grandsons are meant to be in the Army but are always out partying in nightclubs. It is not known if they have the same father. They are both out of control.

I hate living near Windsor Castle.........

(Thanks to MAZ for that one)...

The Swiss do more than Roll..

2011-07-25T11:24:00.000-07:00

The Swiss have but one claim to fame, the most famous joke of the 20th century, (not the one about the swiss chalet maid and the one-handed Irish bell ringer... Or the hilarious misunderstanding of the words CHUCHICHÄSCHTLI, and CHÄS-CHÜECHLI which apparently keeps them in hysterical laughter for months on end, between avalanches, it was about a sensational 'pasta harvest' which was broadcast in 1957 on the B and B of C, (A sort of early you've been framed in black and white, with presenters you wouldn't want to meet on a dark night), which apparently fooled most British too, (we didn't get out much then, and Billy Cotton was the only 'pop idol' we had), so no wonder they fooled Adolph Hitler into believing there was nothing there worth invading, and his bank account was quite safe.

Perhaps we underrated them. No whinge about Switzerland would obviously be complete without the yodel... it would be like Beckham without a football, Posh with talent, My city without pound shops, or Davy Cameron getting a day job. The earliest recorded mention re Switzerland, comes in the 4th century A.D. when the Roman Emperor Julian complained about 'wild shrieking' coming from the northern mountain people (sounds like our town centre on a Saturday night to me). Most ethnomusicologists however, date the yodel at "shortly after the dawn of man." Jurassic cuckoos or something...

That was TV that Was.

2011-07-10T09:56:00.000-07:00

I am giving up on TV, it is only annoying me .. Is it age when all you view on TV seems pointless ? Or is it I have achieved viewer nirvana, I am discerning ? It really does look as if 95% of TV output is there just to annoy me personally, they never put on anything I like, it's written by 5 yr olds, or has to appeal to those who haven't a life of any kind. Hence me watching Japanese/Chinese news for something sensible... Did you know who made the carpets for Shanghai Railway ? I don't care either, but the scenery is nice, if smog is your thing.

Wildlife programs: I prefer to eat animals not watch them, they only bite or spit at you anyway.

World suffering: It is depressing me as well, Here's a quid, now go away.

Documentaries: Like I care about the lifestyle of penguins, or some obscure gastropods life cycle, sorry, can't get interested in that stuff, lets make them extinct or sushi.

War documentaries: I DO appreciate the horrors, but enough TV time now please, we will still repeat the same mistakes. That much I have learnt, we don't learn by them. Kids today still think Hitler was in TAKE THAT, and Hannibal ate elephants, so I don't think it's working anyway...

Reality TV: If this is reality then they have put something in my tea. Viewers care more about some brain-dead bimbo sleeping with an footy player, or some idiots pretending they have talent, when there is probably more in my toe. Will cheryl cole please go AWAY, and make the same mistakes again. You were FIRED, what part of your useless do you not understand ?

The Royal Family: I voted Cromwell....

Fashion: I was never in, when in as an term recognized. I'm more than happy being well out thanks, jeans, wellies, and an t-shirt is all I ever want to wear.

Cookery programs: I hope they choke on it all frankly, how many different ways ARE there to fry chips ? Pretentious oiks anyway. Go away and boil yer head (Perhaps with herbs, kentucky chicken, and a touch of garlic with an warm side salad)...

Medical dramas: If anything it says stay away from Doctors and enter hospital at your peril. Mostly it seems they want to screw/kill the patients.

Soaps: Jane is expecting a child, Arthur is worried about Gertie, Francis has learnt to stand upright, charlie is joining Micky at the centre, alphonso is found to be an illegal... erm, don't care.

Housing programs: Bring on subsidence.

Antique Shows: Old tat, flog it.

DIY: Get an hammer it's useful for knocking nails in, next ?

Politics: P*SS off.

Late night Films: Seen them all, so did my grandad...

Game Shows: What's your name ? here's £50 quid, and most get it wrong.

World TV coverage: It's round what's to know ?

Newsreels: They make it up as they go along, there is no such place as Australia..

Teen college-ed talent shows: YAY ! we gotta show ! No you haven't, you can't sing, you can't dance, and acting is beyond you, get a real job and stop messing about.

Celebrity reality shows: Never heard of them, shut up.

The Daily chauvinist guide to..

2011-06-25T01:37:00.000-07:00

Dating...

I've occasionally been accused of not having a sensitive side to me, OK I kick puppies, trip up people on crutches, let tyres down on wheelchairs, and shout at babies, but doesn't everyone..... ? so I'd like to offer supportive advice to male chauvenists and others who are too busy to spend time to get laid, because it interferes with serious stuff like Rugby and drinking. I advise speed dating, It's all the go for those who are too busy, lying in the gutter, or spending a night's free B&B at the local nick, so haven't time to chat up ze opposite sex (Or even the same one if you're lebanese). It's pretty pointless going to clubs and pubs to meet potential partners, they're only there to get ratted like you, if they had a life would they be there ? One loser in the relationship is enough....

Maybe you are one of those superwomen who have 9 kids, 4 with ASBO's, 3 useless boyfriends, and 2 divorced spouses, whilst juggling a 6am till 9pm job at the local launderette or something, for the minimum wage and free Daz.... ? If you still have enough time and energy to engage in conversation, or feel incomplete without another partner (Or just want someone to mind the kids free, whatever), then you will need some welcome tips about how to go about utilising this modern and hyper-efficent way, of meeting that ideal partner, who knows lads, perhaps they might have their own washing machine, and hate Man United.......

Speed dating is not for the feint-hearted, so after you've splashed on a gallon or three of the Brut and Old Spice, simmered in a bath of strawberry radox for 3 hours, and optimistically bought 3 (Chocolate/chilli flavoured) condoms, remember, you only have exactly 5 minutes to sell yourself and find out what the other person thinks (Apart from the fact you look a desperate loser).

The first person turns up, OK she looks like she needs more beauty sleep than Methusula ever did, (And he had a better beard), but hey, perhaps she can wash dishes and iron ? who knows, perhaps she does DIY ? don't look a gift horse in mouth, use your finely honed flirting techniques - if you’re interested let her know, use eye contact (One or both it's optional), the occasional friendly touch and remembering her name, are useful tools too, unless you really want them, probably best to stay clear of drooling down her blouse, and asking how much silicone in those do you get for a quid......

Have a number of stock questions ready. Five minutes may not seem a lot (about 6 times longer than making love, is the usual guide... so the ladies inform me), but there is nothing worse than drying up, do not start with, "You're starter for 5, do I have to chat you up first, or am I wasting my time and there are better after you ?", it tends to be off-putting to the ladies who may feel you lack some sincerity. Try a sensible list that includes e.g, Can you wash/iron/cook/clean ? are prepared to love Rugby/footy and willing to hand over the TV remote to you unconditionally ? these are basics you will have to get sorted before progressing any further... most relationships have foundered over these vital issues, so get 'em sorted first.

Do dress well, speed dating tends to attract the fashionable and well groomed, or is that the dog show ? I've my notes mixed up... if you turn up with the leash on, tell them it's a new trend, punk is back, (best not to mention you are a founder member of the local S&M society,and leather-wear camping troop....). Leave the track suit, string vest, and pink trainers at home. observe basic guidelines, if they've fallen for your old line (there may be one, it'll be the one with a white stick and a hearing aid), ensure you meet in a public place, tell a friend where you are going, and arrange the half-hourly phone call, in case she doesn't put out, then you can arrange for a house fire to attend to, a granny who has snuffed it, or if all else fails, say "It's the wife again.."

Be careful what you eat, particularly if food is served during the speed dating, if they wanted a walking ad for Lard Ass R Us, they wouldn't be there, they'd still be with previous partners.... Think, is your date likely to enjoy the sight of you gorging on spicy noodles, and spotted dick? Relax, (but don't fall asleep), research has proven that over anxiety in potential partners is one of the biggest turn offs for women, don't make yourself look more desperate than you already are.

Telling lies, might seem like a good idea at the time, but how long could you keep up pretending to be a brain surgeon/dolphin trainer/ballerina ? Don't talk overtly on controversial topics, like e.g. seal clubbing, putting cats in microwaves, should it be an inalienable right ? Of course you don’t want to be bland, but think about it- would you really like to listen to a rant on Israel’s conduct in Palestine, or why Carling Black Label has gone up... (What ? AGAIN ! bluddy Labour party). Don't turn up at a date blind drunk.

Just imagine it- the music pumping, the lights down low, Mantovani and Caruso on the Karaoke, and you leering at a string of attractive, unattached ladies with skirts for neck warmers, or those weird metrospectacles… then you are flat out on the floor telling the table leg, “I love you, I’ve always loved you… gisssakizzzz....” it can be a turn off, unless you are past caring that is.... Next week, daytime TV.... a passing fad, or an acceptable replacement for euthenasia ?

Two of a kind...

2011-06-25T01:22:00.000-07:00

And THIS man is mooted Britain's greatest ever writer ? There is hope for me yet..

TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA: A monologue from the play by William Shakespeare.

Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping. All the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured dog that lives. My mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear.

He is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog. A Jew would have wept to have seen our parting. Why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father. No, this left shoe is my father. No, no, this left shoe is my mother. Nay, that cannot be so neither. Yes, it is so, it is so -- it hath the worser sole. This shoe with the hole in it is my mother, and this my father. A vengeance on't! There 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand. This hat is Nan, our maid.

I am the dog. No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog -- O, the dog is me, and I am myself. Ay, so, so. Now come I to my father: 'Father, your blessing.' Now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping. Now should I kiss my father -- well, he weeps on. Now come I to my mother. O, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her -- why, there 'tis: here's my mother's breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word!

Someone is taking the pee surely !

To the Right Honourable member for .....

2011-06-24T12:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Sir

I would with your express permission, like to take the opportunity afforded, to respond to your recent letter regarding the state of the current political status in the United Kingdom (As defined by the respective areas and affiliations, and how Mongoloid individuals in that area, see themselves, and thus respecting those rights therein), and to our local member of parliament in particular..

I would draw your attention to paragraph 3 (Lines 3 to 5), in that, as I understand it, it is anatomically impossible, for any individual, let alone a respected member of her majesty's parliament, with a majority of 256, to attain that extremely painful position, or insert sideways the object in question.

There were some outrageous claims, (please refer to, "Double-jointedness, sadism, and other obscure native customes of the upper Umbopu deltas", by Arthur Closworth (Published by Binge and Whinkham 1997), that did claim something similar, but I gather the orifice in question was much larger, and peculiar to that native species, and rather the exception to the general rule, and the MP in question is not as I am aware, a member of that tribe, indeed, hails from Buckingham East.

Could I also point out aspects of dubious and unerudtite spelling apparent, in paragraph 4 ? According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word "Idiot" has no 'J' in it, nor an 'P', also, you may be interested to know, our MP for Uxgrimble (west), has recently published a family historical book, in which, (far from your somewhat obscenical statement, and declarations), is fully aware of his parentage, and that it can be accurately validated to 1675, with no female porcines in the family tree, included as he is aware....

I am unsure your reference in paragraph 6, to commonwealth and other foreign visitors to our shores, altogether complies with racial equality laws, disability, ethnic, or even animal rights legislation. I'm almost sure it contains 36 Human rights violations, and constitutes a clear case for libel and mentions numerous and serious breaches of religious tolerances. Public transport may well not be adequate in your area, but I'm unsure if current road legislation allows for dogs to be used in the manner you have precribed, on a public highway, or, if females should be forced to assume that unsightly position... is even legal according to Dept of Environment guidelines.

In my response, I have taken the liberty to include a dictionary for your further use, and free access to a language therapist, in the hope it may help alleviate repetitive strain injury to your lips and fingers as they constantly move along the page as you read. It is of course in large print. I wonder if you could clarify the exact area you are from ? and the primary language you use ?

Paragraphs 7 to 9 I have been unable to fathom, and I e-mailed it to a professor of ancient hieroglyphs in Cairo, who is also stumped, but quite excited, as he feels there is possibly a new language here, hitherto unknown to historians, unfortunately without a 'Rosetta stone' to help along the way, I am unable to respond to the content of those paragraphs. There appears aspects of Latin and gibberish in it, quite beyond our comprehension.

I look forward (I think), to your response.

Yours Sincerely

It's BIN Day !!

2011-06-24T12:34:00.000-07:00

Hello !!! today is B.I.N day ! (Bloggers In Need). Can I ask readers to dig really deep to help support this oscillatory Blogger ? It is a very distressing condition (Blogging), and toiling away in the twilight zone hours weekly, and sometimes twice weekly, to bring you thrills, spills and even occasional common-sense, is very hard work, not many people know this, I don't get paid a bean either.

I do it, as an earnest and dedicated voluntary community worker, to enhance the hoi polloi's lexographic education and even raise the occasional smile, my reward is usually just your appreciation, and the occasional "What drugs are you on... ? none ? best start now!" etc.... but my RSI (and BBC4), gets me down sometimes, and the expense of dark glasses (I'm averse to daylight and fresh air too), means I desperately need YOUR help.

I am NOT asking for money, (OK yes I am but, I'd not say no to a few Carling Black Labels either), but a response of friendly cheer and a bit of back slapping wouldn't go amiss, I get little recognition via extra readers who descend en mass on my blog every Monday (They were queing one abreast last week...). Love us or hate us solitarical bloggers, it's life Jim, (Perhaps not a sane one as people know it but....)

So here is my theme for this year, and it's, "Adopt a Blogger!" An highly original gift for young and old, and those with so much surgery they can't be sure.... For just tuppence you can adopt this lovable blogger as your own. Act today and get a great "I've adopted MM", T-shirt free. Friendly and good-natured (Just keep coffee away from me, and never mention 'football' in the same sentence as sport). Blog People are a joy to own, but they are also threatened in their natural habitat, usually by readers trying to get us sectioned... and facebook.

When you adopt one, you will be joining a wonderful project to protect this endangered species. You will also enjoy a special insight into the fascinating antics of the Blog People, and receive their heartfelt gratitude, and as an introduction, an free "Twitter is for stupid people" badge in 5 colours,and 'My other Identity is suspect too".

When you adopt this Blog Person for yourself as a friend, I will send you an authentic Adoption certificate featuring this your chosen Blog Person, and a "I LUV MM" sticker to put on your car. You will also receive a year's subscription to my newsletter, MM's BLOGWATCH, packed with news of your own Blogging Person's activities, fascinating Blog facts, what my cat does when he thinks no-one is watching updates, and unedited CCTV vids of our neighbours nocturnal activities when he thinks no one is watching him.. (Last week was an lulu ! god knows how he gained that position at the YMCA), combine this with stunning colour photographs of my last 15 favourite keyboards.... Don't delay ! order 2day..

You can choose any fave Blog Person you want from my fully detailed blog Adoption List, so far there is just me, but its work in progress.... My blogs come in a complete range of ages, sizes and colours, and with a comprehensive variety of incomprehensibility.

Send your cheque or postal order to me, and I will PERSONALLY guarantee not a bean goes to CIN.

What the Europeans do... but WHY ?

2011-06-24T12:09:00.000-07:00

I'm tired of news from the usual medias and been reading some news online instead, which has proven a lot more interesting than the abysmal stuff we have got so far, eg:

The headmistress of the Dvergsnes primary school in Kristiansand, Norway, proposed that boys be taught to urinate while seated, in order to reduce splashing and mis-targeting, which burden the cleaning staff, but many parents and politicians reacted bitterly. “It’s a human right (for a boy) not to have to sit down like a girl,” adding that the school was “fiddling with God’s work.” So next time the missus complains show her that....

One jilted Romanian man found a new bride by asking which of his neighbours could fit into the wedding dress, which is sound sense, saves buying another one.... Europe as usual is full of very weird people doing strange and european things, like eurovision, being foreign, etc need we say more, but I liked this one, A village in Romania has erected a 6m (20ft now the UK have capitulated to metrical measures,) monument to the onion. Residents of Periceni came up with the idea to highlight the importance of the vegetable in their lives, and to bemoan the fact their wives don't want to sit downwind.....

Our German friends (The war is over ! for those that missed that headline), and a town council in Germany have decided the best way of improving road safety is to remove all traffic lights and stop signs downtown. All traffic controls will disappear from the center of the western town of Bohmte to try to reduce accidents and make life easier for pedestrians. Russia is not to be outdone, and it seems Vladmir has erm... been firing blanks, or OD'ing on the Smirnoff of late, so don't be surprised if the streets are empty and curtains drawn in Ulyanovsk while residents take up an offer by the regional governor to help stem Russia's demographic crisis.

Ulyanovsk Governor, (Sergei Morozov) has decreed a Day of Conception and is giving couples time off from work to procreate. Couples who give birth nine months later on Russia's national day - June 12 - receive money, cars, refrigerators and other prizes. It was tried in September 2005, but there was an mass outbreak of migraine, and just 311 women signed up to take part in the first competition, and qualify for a half-day off from work. The following June, 46 more babies were born in Ulyanovsk's 25 hospitals compared with the previous June, Sergie has upped the prizes, to 5 Yaks, and is crossing everything it suuceeds to boost a flagging Russian population and hoping the ladies do not cross anything else...

Careful how you are near blind people. A blind judo expert astounded a mugger by pinning him to the ground after he tried to steal his cigarettes. The assailant, a 17-year-old man of Asian origin, spotted the blind 33-year-old, at a train station in the southwestern town of Giessen and thought he would be easy prey, what the attacker did not know, was that his victim was a world-class blind judo wrestler. The 17-year-old threatened the blind man, then punched him in the face, at which point the martial artist flipped him and held him down until police arrived. Ah-sole...!

Vision On.....

2011-06-18T12:13:00.000-07:00

"You have 20 minutes, to create a flower arrangement to kill for, starting..... NOW! .... look how brilliantly she's used that red hot poker horizontally as opposed to vertically to maximise the effect..", (Poker ?), "The bamboo intersect, and peonies, with the basic Ivy relief, is truly inspirational..", (Just shoot me now..), "and the inclusion of the two rotting pears, so you are unable to differentiate if they are conference pears, or in fact faded quince, and the ford hubcap, creates an almost surrealistic and iconic image, guaranteed to titilate and force our otherwise limited visions and perceptions of the world as it is, and to shows us what it could be... it's nature in the RAW, it's beauty and the beast, eco versus urban, it's brutal, sensual, yet subtly romantic as well, forcing us to confront our own inner conflics with life, love, death, the point of the national lottery magic numbers game, and the painful reflections of that doomed romance we all had with the common parsnip.

It's become a metaphor for Zen, for Yoga, for Yoko Ono's mind numbing gallery with 200 pictures with smile written on them, and a piece of string that challenged even the most acute scientific minds of the 20th century at the time, how long REALLY was it ? is 14 inches all it ever was ?

Was it true if you travel at umpteen times the speed of light, the utility bill will still always get there first ?" I'm beginning to see daytime TV in a new light myself, previously I had assumed it was for the senile, the care home fraternity, and the incomptetent, now clearly (Come by yer Lord, Come by yer... ), this excerpt from a gardening program, shows us it is in reality, an art form, that puts Da Vinci and Einstein in the shade, and Simon Cowell as replacement head honcho at the last supper....

Exiled temporarily as I was from the real world of the interwibble due to Microsoft trying to be clever, I passed some of the time watching the TV again, I really had not been giving it the attention the rest of the world had to my shagrin, and eternal shame, and found I was ostracised from the social graces and circles, and had nothing to talk about in mixed company at all, who the hell is Jordan ? it's a river, what's to know ? it'e water and probably quite wet, but hardly viewing unless you are a duck. X factor ? I don't really go for washing powder commercials...if they wash any whiter they'll pass an law against it...

I determined at great cost, to sit down switch the thing on, and see what the fuss was about, that or become some social pariah for eternity, although it hadn't bothered me at all until now. I discovered strictly come dancing or something was now part of the national psyche, we laughed at it in my day, as outdated, and for middle-class loonies, or potato pickers trying to look posh, it was sent it to that TV graveyard in the sky with Mike Aspel, and the black & white minstrel show, because someone complained about boot polish excess or something. The new version, was in colour, and noisier, but didn't look a lot different, except it looked like a clearing house for failed z-celebs to revive flagging careers, (those that had one in the first place, I had no idea who was in, out, or shaking it all about to be honest), I rapidly got past caring, so evidently some semblance of sanity still existed. Being a social pariah looked more appealing by the minute.

I surfed channels, discovered some MORE 'celebs' being silly in an Australian jungle and and having insect and wildlife thrown at them for good measure, nothing fatal unfortunately, but I expect that will follow at some point, the hosts were two child actors who still hadn't attained adulthood despite hitting 20 or so, or started shaving even. It was getting a little surreal... then I was getting bored, another show people talked about was an X factor program, not celebs this time taking part as participants, but as self-elected 'judges', who ridicule people to boost their own image, whoa ! stop this TV world I want off. Let's get back to sanity and radio and Mrs Dales Diary, and get worried about Jim a bit more, and issue of fowl pest.

If the sum total of social 'ins' and outs is a comprehensive knolwedge of television, I'm glad I'm out of it. Stick with it, a relative goaded me, you'll never have to worry what to say when you're out and about now. I thought I had already solved that issue by not going out and ignoring silly, and shallow people talking crap about TV programs, but..... I don't mind discussing real issues, but television isn't real is it ? If it is, we are all in trouble....

Once upon a time...

2011-05-03T11:32:00.001-07:00

1,000 years of Royalty, and we end up with Ed the Horse as the potential next King. Perhaps an discreet word in Kate's ear, about her new family might forewarn here. Take her dad-In-Law, he married a horse as well, two in fact, the first was a clothes horse..... the second the real thing. Some minor quirks may raise her eyebrows. E.G, If she visits Prince Charles' home and openes the right door at just the right time, she may well may be greeted with an unusual sight: the Prince of Wales laying face flat on the floor, eyes closed and ears perked in concentration. Just remember the door opens OUTWARDS... or his nose will match his ears...

He will, of course, be trying to eavesdrop on some of the 30,000 annual tourists who pay 15 pounds each to tour his 900-acre royal estate in Gloucestershire. "I have eavesdropped on what visitors have said, When they're going 'round outside the windows. Sometimes you've got to lie on the floor."

Of course his plantoid love affair with Chrysanthemums is legendary. He also talks about speaking with the trees and plants in his garden. "I happily talk to the plants and trees, and listen to them. I think it's absolutely crucial," he says. "Everything I've done here, it's like almost with your children. Every tree has a meaning for me." "I got a lot of flak for a lot of things," Charles says, "I mean, potty this, potty that, loony this, loony that."

But far from looney, the prince says speaking to the plants keeps him "relatively sane," Wills talks to helicopters, he's a bit more technically minded, and it probably explains his haircut, and flying about North Wales for laughs.... He loved his Mum, his dad didn't, but hey can't have everything, and throwing yourself downstairs to get attention perhaps won't work for you...

Remains of the Day (Xmas that is)...

2010-12-25T11:07:00.001-08:00

I still think Xmas is an acceptable form of water-boarding but... I've spent all day faffing about online today with no joy, which is unsusual for me, there is usually somone I could annoy....

Nearly every present my son had came in a glitzy and rather large box, which only opened to reveal an 'code number' and if lucky, and CD as well and otherwise empty.. He had half a dozen techno presents. An ipod 'touch' which was about the size of a fingernail and no-one without 20-20 vision should ever entertain buying. The instructions (Which came by the yard or metre and a bit in every language except welsh), said to log in to itunes and download your favourite tunes, and was thoughtfully accompanied by a voucher or card thing for £15.

I duly logged in and it said "Your current itune application is out of date, we don't do 78s any more, please download the latest version, yours is out of date..." SO ? how often do deaf log in to download music anyway...?. I duly followed like a lamb to the slaughter, and located said download and the blurb said "Please wait a few minutes", which as anyone knows who has ever used MS or apple, and used to plain english, usually means a good hour, give and take.

Then the bluddy thing asked me if I wanted Ping (?), quick something or other, safari, and another useless and no doubt pointless download, so I respectfully pushed the 'thanks but no way jose' button and it wouldn't compute or something, do computers sulk ? mine did. Itunes nowt else geddit ?

I was pleasantly surprised it only took 39 minutes, (not counting another 9 for it it 'initialise/set up' whatever that means. Then I connected said new ipod so they could synchoronise, specialise it, paint it green, launch it to pluto, or whatever it needed to do. 5 attempts were refused, the 6th they said grdudgingly OK but.... half way at least. I looked at the itunes card and it said scratch the back, quote the number, but itunes said it didn't know me, or the number, or didn't want to or something, still sulking cos I wouldn't download the rest of the gubbins, and I had to register first anyway.

The registration process took 45 minutes (They said 4), but when I tried to download a tune it said "Sorry we are unable to process your order because its xmas, and half the planet had bought ipods and were all trying to download at the same time, so could I try again in 2013, so I said OK. One down, next up was 'leapfrog' Which is a sort of hand-held educational thingy someone brought my son to help him learn to spell and talk a bit more.

Same thing, go online register, yeah yeah, I get the idea.... another 56 minutes wasted of my life... only to find registering was all it would do, apparently the hand held thingy only has a basic 'paint' program on it, my son wanted games of course, like it said on the box, but it said that'd cost me more money again, another one for 2013 I think.

I foned sister she said "Yeah right same here 6 empty boxes and a mass of codes and online instructions which is fortunate as we have a computer, I can't be arsed either, going to go on the cooking sherry instead... these online things are like ice-cream makers, and fondue dips or brevils, we buy them stuff 'em out of sight forget them.. my cupboard is breeding the bloody things...

These online download things will be the same mark my words.... Another two presents duly opened were two 'talking/spelling books..", again, please go online to download permission to hear what is being said, (Chance would be a fine thing), Having thus gained permission via emptying the rubbish bin for the codes I'd thrown away with the wrapping, nothing happened. "Have you plugged in your scriber ?" wot ? no scriber I said only two books... "Sorry you must have a scriber and the application CD or it won't work.." so why the blimmin 'eck sell two books without one ? another for 2014 I think, that's 3 presents down, none of which will operate.

Bugger it, why open the other 3 presents ? they are bound to say the same thing... I got a computer it still won't work, soddit, it's the busy-ist day of the year and nothing is working or is overloaded anyway...and I bought enough batteries to power Battersea as well, thinking I was clever........

The turkey was drier than the Kalahari desert basically, the sprouts dutifully mushed but the stuffing looked OK, and the chargrilled veggies great, except they weren't meant to be chargrilled but I'd spent so much time online faffing about. The honey - glazed parsnips were OK, except I didn't have any honey so tried apple sauce instead, so long as you had 3 or 4 brandies first, it tasted OK......

We threw scraps down for the cat she didn't want to know either.... I'm past caring frankly, I stocked up on wine so whatever it is, the taste will be meaningless. Son of, was unimpressed with half his presents on hold for the next year or so, and was viewing the dinner, with some trepidation too, and asked for pot noodles instead, I said I 'd join him, who needs Christmas anyway ?

I started to open my own presents more in hope, than realistic appreciation there would be anything remotely of use to me, socks here, after-shave there, bugger it, why open the other ? it's bound to be slippers, gloves, or a bluddy Diary, when did I EVER use a Diary ? or anyone for that matter ? Organic Sat-navs for those who don't know what day it is... I expect there is an iphone application for it... I doubt they will be able to download it this year though....

There is always TV I suppose, if you like soap operas (I don't), most of the time I have been watching DIY SOS for laughs on some god-forsaken SKY repeat channel, anyone wants shabby chic floorboards I'm an expert now.... all you do is buy rather expensive floorboard, whack 'em with an 'ammer then paint over them... charge the customer treble or something....my son hates cartoons and that's all they were showing or something. so that's me out, back to the booze then , XMAS ? humbug...

Getting that C-Factor

2010-09-08T12:55:00.000-07:00

Wot is the C-Factor ? Well for those un-initiated in the great and good of the charitable works in our fair country, it is the 'cutting edge' way now of selling charity by begging, to the miserable and complaining masses who are kept told to Give, Give and Give even more by a plethora of nere-do-wells in pin-stripe suits for the poor and deserving in our fair if rather strange country U of K. who on first site make estate agents and second car salesmen look the hight of respectability.

One deaf group who should be nameless and then some, having failed to coerce us on the street with their souped up and strangely sober student salespeople, have now switched online to Facebook or Twitter (Or even both barrels aimed at your head), to screw as much dosh as you can spare before the tax man takes it all. They will follow you (As long as there is a buck in it for them). The latest wheeze is for CEO's of profile charities (Mostly failed politicians who are kicked up and out, or sacked from proper organisations), who deign to join Twitter of Facebook for an complete HOUR so you can regail how marvellous they are for begging on your behalf, regardless if you haven't asked them to do it, it provides work after all (Mostly for them).

Not to be outdone one charity CEO took it a step further and set up a Twitter 'fanzine' site for herself, and offered signed pictures, (All completely modest, no bums and tits there thank heaven's), and 10 minutes real-time (Subject to finishing her starter course first), of interaction during her lunch break once a month so the 'little people' don't feel left out. This is inclusion in action and in real time (Assuming you are the 1 in 12 people without a brain cell tuned in to this crap). You won't get that with a plumber (OR a plumber for that matter). Currently they are compiling an who is who, and who bluddy cares anyway, of profile charity executives who have saved the minorities from themselves and the tax payer a small fortune by taking the lions share of funds for their own wages, and telling them to pull themselves together for god's sake and get a bluddy grip.

The C factor, has your fave charity got it ? Such is the arrogance of these people they no longer seek royal trustees and such but push themselves instead and attend every fridge opening that occurs. Royals and Celebs are out, sorry Mr Fry even you are.... charity CEO's are IN.

Unreality...

2010-07-08T09:42:00.001-07:00

The Americans once did a reality show with 40 American kids cast away on a deserted island somewhere, such a brilliant idea, but why stop there ? we could send 650 egotistical morons, from that building near the Thames for say... 20 years to the North Pole, and see if they can generate enough hot air to keep themselves warm.

The UK are bereft of any decent ideas for reality TV, mainly because it involves the effort of sitting in considerable discomfort unable to find the remote..... I suggest doing X-factor meets the NHS, where you'd get assorted patients wandering in with delusions, and paranoias, and a panel of on-call consultants will vote, cogitate and perhaps take a little extra marzipandichloride (250mg per 1 kilo in weight, at 15 minute intervals), while downing copious pints of 190% proof surgical Alcohol, to decide who gets referred to a psychiatric unit for the next round, where the top prize, is being sectioned to an institution of your choice, and you also get a choice of designer, rubber wallpaper, maybe even the DIY SOS crew will come and do it up for you, the issue would only be, if they would let them out again, so you could get stuck with them.

We can do a series of "So you think you are an undertaker ?" and suggest modern retail methods of upping your customer base, how to recycle the coffins and re-use fittings, getting a 500% return, why melt them down ? the scrap value is poor these days. How about coin in the slot cremation ? a drive in ? It will cut out the middle man.

"Who is the biggest idiot online on Twitter ?" (we will have to exempt Stephen Fry or he'd win every time), he's attended more fridge openings than Iceland. Talking about Iceland , (I am meandering a bit as is my wont), first the bloody country goes bankrupt, then they set bloody fire to it, anyone smell an insurance scam here ?

With the UK's daytime TV deep in the brown stuff with property and antique porn programming, we could do Dickinson's real deal meets Casualty Dept, but turn off the colour first or his tan will blind you.. We'd get experts from the recently struck off register, to value your heart or kidney collection, e.g. "interesting, bright green, yellowy and fatty in places, cholesterol content 150%, high alcoholic content, probably, (almost certainly I would say), early Irish ? Manchester ? 1960s? Can't be certain, you need a specialist but it may be one of Georgie Best's early cast-offs, (not Gazza's it's too recent for that...), quite common, not worth much, I can offer you threepence, but your best bet is to go to auction, dozens of them around, football shape, although if you find the rarer oblong ones, with the studs in, and signed by Pete Stringyfellow, they can be worth up to 17 shillings and fourpence, rather typical of the period, in the 'Irish' style (Dublin Guinness Pattern), as we in the trade call it, value ? very little, about 3 hours if inserted, tell you what I'll do, I'll double whatever you can get for it at the car boot sale."

"NOW ! this IS interesting ! a mis-diagnosed lethal infection ! and you've had it 5 years ? contracted in Zambaluza in the Upper Congo ,(Mumbopo Delta region possibly), that's amazing, and it just gave the odd twinge ? I'd say it's a real find, and worth a consultant paper or two, you'd get I would estimate, about £800 - £900 in a specialist sale, maybe a lot more if they get phone bids in from the ambulance chasers too, set reserve of say, oooooh £450, to tempt them in... you could create a world epidemic first with this. I think it'll fly, ( I doubt you will, or whether you'll be able to spend the money in time, but ....).."

Reality in the UK is knowing Alzheimers set in years ago.... I think, can't remember actually...

Church Howlers

2010-02-17T02:10:00.001-08:00

The Fasting and Prayer Conference includes meals.
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The sermon this morning: 'Jesus Walks on the Water.' The sermon tonight: 'Searching for Jesus.'
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Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
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Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say 'Hell' to someone who doesn't care much about you.
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Don't let worry kill you off - let the Church help.
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Miss Charlene Mason sang 'I will not pass this way again,' giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.
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For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.
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Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.
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Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
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A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall.. Music will follow.
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At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be 'What Is Hell?' Come early and listen to our choir practice ..
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Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.
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Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.
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Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.
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The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment and gracious hostility.
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Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM - prayer and medication to follow.
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The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.
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This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.
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Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 AM. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. Is done.
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The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the Congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.
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Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
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The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 PM. The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.
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Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church.. Please use large double door at the side entrance.
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The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new campaign slogan last Sunday: 'I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours.'

Happy New Year

2010-01-02T08:59:00.001-08:00

Yuss !

Bugger......

The Xmas 2009 Blog

2009-12-15T12:00:00.000-08:00

Lacy things -- the wife is missin',
Didn't ask -- her permission,
I'm wearin' her clothes,
Her silk pantyhose,
Walkin' 'round in women's underwear.

In the store -- there's a teddy,
Little straps -- like spaghetti,
It holds me so tight,
Like pink handcuffs at night,
Walkin' 'round in women's underwear.

(A bit of ambient music for you, you have to imagine a bit of snow falling, and the vice squad in sequins..).

OK, so my local and occasionally social club, has a weird sense of humour, but it IS the once a year extravaganza... Christmas, a time when people you have managed to avoid all year, bear down on you like lemmings on a suicide mission, and your dog needs false teeth. We all have to endure/enjoy/avoid as is our yearly penchant, it is of course the Xmas party again.

Not in an office, I've not attended an office party since 1995, mainly because I didn't own a white shirt until 2003, and only then because a relative died, and it sets off a black tie quite well so they tell me. Not as if I'd seen him in 40 years I didn't like him then why would I like him now.... "A lovely, friendly, and well respected man, who was loved by all..." Not by me he never bought a round, just hopes his wife never finds out how popular he was really... and why did his kids leave home at 6 ? Vacation my arse.... It's been 36 years now...

What to wear ? you have to enter into the spirit of things, although most are under the influence of spirits well before they turn up. I could put a bit of Holly on my hat, or a mini Santa that drops his trousers if people stare too close, that one that pisses all over you is my favourite...

At the party here will be the usual exchange of pleasantries, "Haven't seen you since....", (Last week ? yesterday ? 1962 ? since Queen Victoria and Brian Epstein were on the throne ?), we'll be greeted like lost long relatives, aka "Can I have that £20 you owe me now please ?", and "My son looks VERY much like you, are you sure you've never met the wife...?" etc, then we'll sojourn to light refreshments, which in my case, (and to get swiftly into the Xmas party mood), will be an unusual, but quite cheeky half of Carling BL lager, with an umbrella, an olive, a mars bar, and half a pineapple in, (but in a coloured glass), MM knows how to party....

In the office there's a guy named Melvin,
He pretends that I am Murphy Brown.
He'll say, "Are you ready?" I'll say,"Whoa, Man!"
"Let's wait until our wives are out of town!"

This year we hope to avoid the misunderstandings we had last year with the Xmas presents, the scar still hasn't healed properly, but only shows if I am sunbathing and you are staring where you shouldn't, (it's why my knee is never sunburned). Basically we all buy a present each, expence is not limited (Anything up to a quid), wrap them up so no-one knows who it is from, give them all a raffle ticket free each and randomly stick them on the presents, surprise surprise doesn't really cut it... half the wrappings covers an empty box, or a tin of Sainsbury baked beans as usual.

Albeit we had to call the bomb squad last year after someone put an alarm clock in one parcel, complete with battery, at least we think it was an alarm clock, funny shape if you ask me...... did look a bit like a rabbit with ADHD.... This yearly debacle is usually the best time to unload the crap they gave out last year, and to get your own back on the clown that wrapped a sink plunger in one parcel, and a 6 month supply of Visual Viagra, (which consisted mainly of pin up pictures of Harry Lauder and George Bush's poodle), and yet another who took immense trouble to wrap up two bags of cat litter, then changed the label to Muesli and Oats, obviously someone disgruntled at the previous years present, (I don't have a cat what else was I to do with it ?).

Our club pioneered recycling in S.Wales, some presents have done the rounds for 16 years.... We also get the various tinned sweets and stuff, with 1985 sell-by dates still doing the rounds. They'll be auctioned on TV's Antique Roadshow next year..

Later on, if you wanna,
We can dress -- like Madonna,
Put on some eyeshade,
And join the parade,
Walkin' 'round in women's underwear!

Then we fight over who sits where, usually the committee sits at the top table, so you know your place, but owing to the fact most of my members have been hospitalized, found an analyst, or gone to meet the grim reaper on a sale or return basis, I am honoured this year to sit nearer the top table, another 10 snuff it, I'm there....pole position...

That will be swiftly followed by the start of usual, and obligatory and endless complaints about the food, "I didn't ask for Xmas pudding in a chicken soufflé' , it sticks my dentures together..", or, "I'm Venezuelan, I don't eat meat, just Mexicans, have you nutty carrot crumble and parsnip soup instead ? light on the soya bean..", or maybe, "I'm a diabetic, have you anything green I can eat ? and a chair near the toilet ?"...

Now everyone hates turkey, since bird flu was the vogue, and they managed a draw with Man United, so they're stickin' to chicken'...... what the hell ARE those tiny sausages for ? My suggestion next year, we go to a chip shop or Chinese takeaway, was viewed rather scathingly I have to admit, "Xmas dinner is traditional !", traditionally an event to argue yet again over for the next 12 months, to get over the fact your long lost relatives didn't stay lost long enough, and found you despite you not giving them a forwarding address, damn Google.....and then to plan next year's abysmal failure to celebrate the coming of the Messiah...... (you can see why he ascended can't you ? couldn't get out quick enough).

Mrs Davis said she was cooking us all a surprise this year "It's a 3 in 1", she says "Bratwurst, inside a cheese sandwich, inside reindeer..", she's been watching cookery shows (Or how the Germans in Berlin survived during 1919, we're not sure)...

Lacy things... missin',
Didn't ask... permission,
Wearin' her clothes,
Her silk pantyhose,
Walkin' 'round in women's underwear.

We might do some games this year... pin the tail on the donkey last year was not the success we hoped it would be, (there was silicon and stale pee everywhere last time), and someone complained the RSPCA would not be amused at us abusing a dumb animal, but Mrs Carter has A-Levels, and a degree in absurdity......we might do 'musical chairs' this year, if we can find a sign language interpreter for Mrs Hill and the other 5 quite deaf ladies, who just sat down, and never got up when the music started or stopped, so missed the point somewhat.

We're stuck with disability act this year too, but how to include Mr Jones in the game when he is already in a wheelchair is bit of problem, perhaps we can make him stand up when the music stops to even it out a bit In line with the disability act, we can't reward winners, so as not to upset anyone. We might have to hire a dozen wheelchairs so he isn't left out, attend a class about disability empowerment, and pay two carers to lift him on and off when the music starts up....

We tried 'pass the parcel', but it was a failure last year, someone over wrapped the toothpaste and it took 3 hours to get to it, a few of the older members needed oxygen, and it's not as if many had teeth anyway is it ? Andy McKano wants us to do the Hoki-Koki again, but last year he put his left leg in, and his right leg, right out, and we needed the full compliment of imperial size spanners to get him going again....

"Walkin' 'round ...in women's...... underwear."

Encore more music maestro !

Have yourself an eco-friendly Xmas,
Let your trees be green,
From now on,
your carbon-friendly footprint's low....
Buy yourself, a solar powered wristwatch
get to work on time
Only use it when the weather's fine....
Never in the winter...... time....

Have a merry Xmas 'y'all (in case some American drops in, you never know)...

MM