Thursday 26 February 2009




Ther's Nout as Queer as Folk!

Moving to our current location some four years ago, was a decision based on the quality of life we could achieve for both me my wife and ultimately our Children.

After trawling through various property agents details on both the Internet and the High Street, We managed to find a property which fulfilled the criteria we had set ourselves. A large house, to comfortably accommodate what is a large family, a large garden to accommodate the Children and my wife's green fingers, and an expanse of land to enable us to enter the World of rearing livestock.

Now I don't know about you, but when something seems to good to be true it invariably, in my experience, is too good to be true.

Prior to actually taking possession of our dream house, my Wife and myself ventured in to the local village some 5 miles away, for a celebratory meal, at the only public house within 20 or so miles, how quaint we thought, this shall become our local we thought, we shall meet and become as one with the locals we thought.

Our suspicions should have been raised at this first meeting with the local inhabitants, the meal was adequate, as was the drink, although expensive and the conversation limited to between ourselves with brief interspersion's from the waitress. The local pub goers were conspicuous in there avoidance of the unknown diners, avoiding eye contact at all costs, in fear the 'incomers' may start a conversation.
Towards the end of the evening, the waitress was hovering around our table in anticipation of payment and ultimately going home, as we were, and had been, the only customers all evening. It was a slightly unnerving feeling, and we began to feel a burden to the staffs routine.
"Hurry up dear, the natives are becoming restless", my Wife remarked. She too had obviously felt the same, what I would describe as ' Wild West' saloon bar feeling I had, in that we expected at any time the occupants of the establishment to form a circle, open a pocket watch, which would proceed to play an eery tune gradually slowing down as we all eyeballed each other to see who would draw first.
The waitress finally approached us "Everything alright for you Sir", with a hint of who do you think you are, hurry up and let me go home.
"Fine thank you, could we have the bill please" I replied with a hint of God let me out of here before I am drugged bound and taken to a cellar, destined to become tomorrows dish of the day.
"On Holiday" she continued as I fumbled for my wallet.
"Oh no, we have bought a house not far from here" my Wife replied, and proceed to give directions to its location.

A silence came over the entire room, and I could have sworn that a tumble weed passed by the window.

"The old Grants place" the waitress finally answered, as if from a Scooby Do cartoon."There's been a couple of Incomers in that place since the Grants left" she continued,"none have stayed, they don't know the ways".
What ways!, now I was getting worried, I half expected one of the locals at the bar to break out into a spine chilling laugh, and shout out "Your doomed, all doomed".
The waitress looked left and right and leant forward to speak to us, we also found ourselves looking left and right and leaning forward to meet her, we must have been within 3 inches of each other, in our ghostly huddle.
"They've never got on with us" she whispered, as if she should not have uttered the words, checking from left to right again she continued, "They never come down this far"
"Who?" I dared to ask.
"Your neighbours" she said leaning in even further.
"What No 5?, they seem so nice" I whispered back.
"No...all of them, they keep themselves to themselves, and we do the same"
I looked at my wife who appeared to be close to either crying, screaming or running out of the door. I turned back at the waitress who had rematerialised over at the bar, speaking with a couple of locals who between sentences glared over to our table.
"If things get nasty Ill take the big one with the single eye and 14 fingers" I attempted to reassure my wife, " While you make a run for it"
The waitress made her way back towards us with my credit card,"Will you be wanting coffee sir"
"Ohh no I don't think so, do you dear, No I didn't think so, that's all thank you" I spurted out.
"Will we be seeing you again Sir" She asked as if telling me not to darken the doors of this establishment ever again.
Nervously I managed to laugh, "ha..ah..eh, I'm sure we'll think about it, wont we dear" looking towards my wife for support, only to find she had put on her coat, and was making a hasty retreat towards the door. "Well thank you again for a lovely evening" I said as I also backed my way towards the door, managing to put my coat on inside out.
Once out of the building we briskly walked to our car briefly glancing back to see half a dozen pale faces pressed against the pub window watching us leave. I didn't know whether to wave back, or leave the car and run.

This was our introduction to our new life, interested in hearing more? Let me know....

Monday 23 February 2009

LESS SPEED MORE HASTE

On the subject of High Street retailers, see Woolies post, I would like to send a message to the High Street Retailer 'Fast Frames'.

Whilst three days could be described as fast in Geological terms, perhaps when describing the erosion of a mountain, or the formation of an Ox Bow Lake, when it comes to framing a school photograph, its not particularly speedy..is it.

Come on get your act together, is it any wonder people are turning to the Internet to buy their goods!

WOOLIES

It is very sad to see any of the Great British High Street retailers circome to the recession, but particularly for me Woolworths.
This great institution of High Streets up and down the length and Breadth of the Country, holds many memories for me, as I am sure many others. With there varied assortment of goods at reasonable prices, I can recall drooling over the toy section as a child.

I was astonished and a little disappointed though, to read that the final pick and mix selection, ever to come from Woolies sweetie section, was auctioned off on E Bay for £14,000.00.

I understand that the money may be used for a final farewell party for employees, which is admirable, it is somewhat ironic though that the public bid in their droves to obtain the final sweet pack, when their time money and effort would have been so appreciated and better spent actually getting off their lazy Internet bound arses and using the high street shops to do their shopping. Instead of the now common place practice of tapping a few keys on the home PC, and having everything from consumables to food to a new car, delivered direct to their doorstep.

Come on Britain lets get out a little more and rejuvenate the Local High Street shops, before the next major chain goes the way of the Woolies.

Friday 20 February 2009

ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE...NOT.

Oh Well...The snows all gone at last, just the remnant splodge's of salt and grit stained slush against the kerbside.

We are now entering the rainy season here, so from white fields we enter Paddy fields, I'm going to forget potatoes this year, think I might have a go at growing rice!

Started rewriting my book again, following the child/laptop/smash episode, hope I can recall all aspects as it was pretty good.

Hose burst on the washing machine the other night due to the cold evenings, still wont have to build that swimming pool that I promised the cockroaches.

Ive got a couple of one liners for you all....ready for this?


Every fight is a good fight...If you are a cannibal!


HEADLINES YOU HOPE YOU'LL NEVER SEE.

Terrorists invade condom factory!

Choir boy born without tongue, sings through his nose!

CD player gets Woman pregnant, - She thinks by Elvis!

Busty mum trades breasts with her teenage daughter!

Banks to use tear gas, to evict mortgage defaulters!

17 year old girl becomes grandmother, on graduation day!

Saturday 14 February 2009

VALENTINES DAY QUICKIES

Darling, you seem to get more beautiful every year.

But I refuse to wear Glasses!




A couple came upon a wishing well, the Wife leaned over, made a wish, and threw in a penny.
The Husband decided to also make a wish, but leaned over too far and fell in to the well, and drowned.

The wife was stunned for a few seconds, but then smiling said, "unbelievable, it works"!!

VALENTINES DAY IS UPON US

A little humour, on this special day....

A shy man walked in to a pub on Valentines day evening, and noticed a Woman sitting at the bar.

After a long struggle with his shyness, he finally walked over to her and asked,
"Would you mind if I sat next to you".

She made a furious face, and yelled,
"How dare you ask me to sleep with you tonight"

Everyone in the pub started staring at the man who was completely embarrassed.

After a few minutes, the Woman walked over to him and apologised,
"You see I'm a student of Psychology, studying how people react to embarrassment".

The young man suddenly shouted out,
"What do you mean £200.00?"

DIY NIGHTMARE

Could I just say a quick thank you to the person who owned my house in the early 1980's, and decided to glue woodchip wallpaper to the entire house?
Also a big thanks to the two owners since, who glossed over it several times.

I hope you will enjoy your Easter holiday as much as I will!!

PELE

How long do you think it took the Germans to find Pele in his disguise, at the end of 'Escape to Victory'?
I have a feeling he may have stood out a bit in Wartime occupied France!

LONESOME ME

They say that being the England football team manager is the loneliest job in the World. Well, I work in a lighthouse on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, 8000 miles from land.

Lets get things in to perspective here!

Friday 13 February 2009

SHOP WEIGHT OR SHIRT

shop weight or shirt... What sort of lifter are you?

Shoplifters, Shirt lifters and Weight lifters are everywhere. It seems that these days you cant pick up a newspaper, without reading stories of retail theft, gayness or feats of strength.
Whether its Winona Ryder being stopped for stealing a coat, George Michael performing a sex act on a scruffy van driver, or Geoff Capes carrying a Citroen 2CV around an obstacle course in Malta, different kinds of lifters are never out of the headlines.

Maby its not so surprising. After exhaustive research, over breakfast, I believe that each and every one of us falls in to one of these three categories. For people like Elton John, Isabel Barnett and Precious Mckenzie, its obvious which group they fall into. What of the rest of us though?

You may think you know what sort of lifter you are, but do you really?

I have listed a easy to follow questionnaire, which will tell you once and for all.

So lift up your pencil and take the test everyone is talking about,.. in my house, to find out.

1. You are walking down the street when you spot an ice cream van with a puncture. The wheel jack is collapsed, and the seller is trapped under his vehicle and shouting for help. What do you do?

a. Take hold of the bumper and lift the van up enough for the man to escape.
b. Nip in to the van and fill your coat with ice lollies, flakes and cans of coke.
c.Mince up to the trapped ice cream man and run your hands over his buttocks.

2. You are the only customer in a sweet shop, and you have asked for a quarter of kola cubes, which are in a jar on the top shelf. The shop keeper says he will have to go up a rickety ladder to get them.How do you react?

a. Wait until he gets up the top of the ladder before filling you pockets with Mars bars and Topics and running out of the shop.
b. Offer to lift him above your head so he can reach the jar without going up the ladder.
c. Offer to hold the ladder, thus offering the opportunity to peek up his trouser leg, at his bottom!

3. You sit down in front of the TV one night. What programme do you watch?

a. The Worlds strongest man.
b. The Wizard of Oz.
c. The Richard and Judy show.

4. You are standing in a bus queue. What do you do with your arms.?

a. Hold them up, elbows level with your shoulders, forearms vertical and fists clenched, angled towards your biceps.
b. Put one hand on your hip, and hold the other arm aloft with a slack wrist.
c. Keep them inside your coat holding 8 tins of spaghetti hoops, whilst a pair of false ones dangle in your sleeves.

5.....Oh sod it, I think you get the general idea, I sometimes think I'm writing this drivel as some kind of stress relief, I don't know if anybody is going to read it! Its snowing again outside..Obviously...! be something to see if it started snowing indoors... peas for tea tonight....must remember to clean the bottom of the fridge...how longs that mole been on my finger? Ho Hum.

Thursday 12 February 2009

GONE WITH THE WIND

Tourhett Butler, famously once said:

Frankly my dear, I don't f*#k*ng give a s##d$ng damn.

LOW EDUCATIONAL ACHIEVEMENT SOLUTIONS

Students!

Failed the lot?

Don't worry, do a degree in material Science at Loughborough University!


Prefer watching Telly to doing work?

Then Media Studies at Keele is the course for you.

Minimum entry qualifications:
One A level grade F or lower, ability to switch on Telly, able to open a bag of Doritos.

FEARS GROW FOR BBC MAN TRAPPED IN WARDROBE

Friends of Mihir Bose were yesterday mounting an anxious vigil outside his home, as the BBC sports editor, entered a second night trapped in a wardrobe. The 61-year old broadcaster has been locked in the wardrobe in his bedroom since Friday night.
So far all attempts to free him have failed. Emergency services now fear that unless he is released quickly, Bose could suffocate on his own farts!

It is thought that Bose may have entered the wardrobe on Tuesday evening, looking for a magic far away land, after being inspired by the C S Lewis, Narnia books. His mother Edna Bose, told reporters: "I began reading the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe to Mihir as his bedtime story and he became quite excited at the part where Lucy enters the wardrobe and the fur coats turn into trees.

"He kept asking me if there was a Narnia behind the suits in the wardrobe," she added.

Mrs Bose discovered her sons predicament when he failed to come down for his coco pops the following morning, "He never misses his coco pops" she continued, "That's when I knew something had happened".

"I went into his room to get him up, but he wasn't in his bed. Then I heard muffled cries from his wardrobe. I tried to open it up, but found that the door was stuck fast, and the handle came off in my hand. I was worried because Mihir had had meatballs in Chicken tonight sauce for his tea the night before, and that always makes him a bit Windy"!

Unable to free her award winning sports pundit son, Mrs Bose called the Fire Brigade., but when they arrived they too were unable to get the wardrobe open. Two officers tried to force the door using a butter knife from the kitchen, but it bent. Two other firemen removed the mirror from the front, in the hope of finding another way in, but they discovered it was solid wood behind.

Following the unsuccessful rescue attempts, Chief Fire Officer, Cuthbert Flack, flanked by his team, Pugh,Pugh, Barley and McGrew, read a statement to the press gathered outside Bose's West London home. Looking tired and Drawn, he told reporters-
"I can confirm that a 61 year old man is trapped inside a wardrobe at this address. He is not in any imminent danger of injury, but he has been eating spicy Chicken Tonight, and there is a risk that his flatulence could build up to a level that might endanger his life, in such a confined space".

Firefighters last night were still attempting to remove Bose from his wardrobe, although hopes of a successful outcome were said to be fading fast. "We are doing everything we can, but it is only a matter of time before Mihir succumbs to his own toxic gasses," Flack added.

Meanwhile BBC bosses were believed to be discussing the possibility of adapting Bose's plight into a Saturday evening game show format. I'M A CELEBRITY GET MIHIR OUT OF THERE!
Which will feature a variety of stars coming up with hair brained schemes to free the bespectacled sports editor from his wardrobe prison, before he suffocates on his own farts.

Mihirs mother Edna was in favour of the proposed light entertainment show, adding"Its what he would have wanted, he is a true pro to the end".

Viewers will get the chance to vote for their favourite in a very expensive, rigged telephone pole.

Should any of my legions of Blog followers be interested or indeed care, I would be more than thrilled to read your suggestions as to the confined spaces catastrophe, and ways of securing Mihirs release.

HELP!!



Next time you go for the bloody newspaper!!!


The bottom rail on that fence is about 8 inches off the ground! Will it ever stop snowing?

DEAR OH DEER



Aahh... look at the bambies...

The deer have come down to look for food.
Been so cold and the snow covering for so long now, they must be starting to feel it!


The snow yesterday was due to clear according to the forecast, Ha- think i'll put my shorts on then.

Monday 9 February 2009

DOUBLE BARRELED MADNESS

I like to cook, I like to watch good cooks cook. I don't however like Anthony Warrell Thompson.

Who is neither a good cook, or someone I like to watch for too long!

If hes not ramming his latest Kitchen labour saving device down our throats, on QVC, or advertising his latest turbo charged egg whisk and combined chicken plucker in the daily tabloid, then He's cooking up rats tail and witchety bug souffles in the jungle!!

I don't like to be cruel to the afflicted, but he must have been hit extremely hard with the ugly stick, and then beaten severely with it for a couple of hours.

His physical features however are not the reason for my high blood pressure, Its his business dealings which have turned my face a darker shade of puse.

I am led to believe that poor Mr Thompson is feeling the effects of the recession, to such an extent that he has been forced to close a number of his 'fat Chef' eateries.

Before I open my daughters violin case and play myself into a depression, I would remind myself of a few details..

Apparently Mr Thompsons bank would not increase his, already not insignificant, business over draught, to the tune of £200,000.00. Which by all accounts would have paid off his creditors, and enabled Mr Thompson to sail out of the recession into even greater profits.

It is now the banks fault that 3 of Mr Thompsons trough shops, will be forced into receivership, not that his food is bland, and the punters are sick of dining on a celebrity chefs name alone, Oh no it is the banks fault.

Miraculously though Mr Thompson has managed to finance some £350,000.00 privately, to enable him to buy back two of his nosh shops, leaving no doubt the poor creditors and debts of the business empire to the receivers and the toxic remaining business. Cynical maybe, but I'm sure that Mr Thompson will come up smelling of saffron fragrance roses.

Hooray, cant wait to see him back on TV, or look forward to his next best seller.!!!

DEAR BISHOP....

Dear Father, It has been some time since my last confession.

I no not why, but I was recently caught short, whilst queuing for tickets to see Will Young.

I had no choice but to relieve myself in my hat!

Will I be going to Hell as a result?

Well Gerronimo, The relieving of ones self in to a hat in a public place is indeed seen as a sin in the eyes of our Lord.

It all depends however on when the action took place. The Christian Church officially abolished the Idea of Hell in1983, so if you relieved yourself after that date, you are safe. However, if the deed took place before then, I'm afraid YOU WILL BE CAST INTO A LAKE OF FIRE FOR ALL ETERNITY, and probably even longer...

FRENCHIES AGAIN

I hate the way those pesky Frenchies dip those stale cakes into coffee. Bunch of Pigs!

SHOE SOME RESPECT!

Following the recent shoe throwing shenanigans, during the outgoing American President George Bush's visit to Iraq, The Metro newspaper reported that the throwing of such an item is a sign of contempt in Iraq culture.

Surely taking off your well worn, ripe shoes, and throwing them at someones head dosen't have positive connotations in any culture.

ADAM AND SIOBHAN'S WEDDING!

Ive just managed to battle my way back home through six feet of snow!

There aren't many things that would make me drive 600 miles, through arctic conditions, screaming children in stereo from all angles of the car, lack of sleep, lack of food and worse of all missing Antiques Roadshow on Sunday night!

That however was the case this Weekend where myself and my family were invited to attend my baby brothers wedding, The wedding of the century.

As I have previously alluded to, the thought of travelling in the current conditions may have been enough to put many less hardy off, but I wouldn't have missed it for the World!

My little brother has tied the knot! everything is now legal! and being a fiercely religious man, damn time too.

The wedding was Fantastic, My new sister-in-law Siobhan, although a Norwich City fan, is also Fantastic, a more than welcome addition to the legendary Saunders Clan! and little Findlay, although destined to a life of supporting Norwich City, is Fantastic also. That's three Fantastics in one paragraph----Fantastic!

It was also lovely to see all the members of my family, who I have not seen for some time, and to meet members of Siobhans family, Ooh, now were all family, blimey were bigger than the Waltons!

I was honoured to be included in the proceedings as a witness to the vows, along with my little son Archie, who became an unofficial witness, due to his attachment to my side throughout the ceremony, and was so pleased as to how well my other children behaved, throughout the day.

The Brides father and the best mans speech were a joy, offering an insight in to the shenanigans of both Siobhan and Adams teenage years, of which I was not aware of.

The whole wedding seemed to run like clockwork, and the hard work put in to make such a wonderful event must have been enormous, but what a complete success it was!

Well that's about enough from me, just battled my way back to the Highlands, and thought Id write a few words before I start to thaw myself out.

So finally, from Sasha, my lovely wife, all the wee Saunders bairns and myself....

Thanks Adam and Siobhan! Have a fantastic life----s#*t that's four fantastics now. Sounds like a bloody film.

Saturday 31 January 2009

MELLOW CELLO

It can be quite a physical ordeal to learn to play an instrument..

What with Fiddlers elbow, and Guitar nipple.
I understand Cello Scrotum was a common complaint, up until yesterday anyway.

It has become evident that the ailment, thought to affect up to 25% of male cellists, is a fake.

It makes you wonder just what is the reason for these poor Gentlemens unsavoury genitalia!!

FINANCIAL MELTDOWN

I hear today that Iceland's Government has officially been dissolved.....

Is that due to the effects of global warming.

KIDS TODAY...TUT

In 2008 over two thousand children left school without any GCSE's.

They did however get DVD's, Computers and the wheels to their headmasters car!

ORGANIC BULL

I was surprised to hear today, that members of the Organic farming community, for so long bastions of natural food products, pleading poverty due to the lack of demand from a financially battered British public.

They are requesting a bus mans holiday from Organic life to rejoin the lower classes, in providing their livestock with non organic feed, due to the redirection of the publics hard earned, towards cheaper food products.

A milk farmer was interviewed, and outlined the drop in profits he was experiencing. He went on to say that he was considering a break from Organic farming methods, to conventional feeding.

Now is it me again, or do these people ever put anything as a greater priority, than lining their deep pockets?

I know the answer No! For years these people have been ramming the virtues of Organic farming so far down our throats, that we are all ready to spew! Its a way of life they told us, Its the only way, they told us, how dare you eat anything but Organic produce they told us.. Until we all felt like guilty children should we dare dream of buying anything but Organic produce.

Well, now the second car is up for renewal, and the deposit on the fourth holiday is due. Mr Organic farmer is feeling the pinch. So bang goes all the false principals.

All the profits from the years of overpriced produce he has been selling have gone, and don't believe that there weren't profits, I can assure you that there were immense profits, have you ever seen a farmer on a bike? only a quad bike, being towed by a bloody great new Range Rover.

So Mr Organic farmer relaxes on feeding Organic feed to his cattle, and sells his milk cheaper, as non Organic for a couple of years. Then what? When we start spending again, and the demand for Organic produce returns, he will jump back on the lucrative gravy train and ride it like a demented fat cat, lapping and gorging on the profits!

The technical side to this is also questionable. I am led to believe that if a farm reverts to non Organic practices, it will take a significant number of years to 'De-tox' the farm back to Organic status.

For Gods sake, if you believe in Organic farming as a way of life, stick to your principals, don't, as we always suspected anyway, jump from one money grabbing fad to another.

Friday 30 January 2009

TIP OF THE DAY

Boiled eggs, cut in half vertically, and with the yolk removed, make an ideal miniature porcelain-style urinals for hamsters and guinea pigs etc.

Make your own inexpensive mints, by leaving blobs of toothpaste to dry on a window cill, and for a treat use striped toothpaste to make humbugs!

PARCEL FARCE

WARNING!
Do not be tempted to use the courier service Parcel Force.

In my humble opinion, they are a bunch of money grabbing thieves! With little regard for their customers.
Never since Dick Turpin was robbing the innocent of there possessions and money, has highway robbery been so skillfully achieved.

I refer to a parcel I unwittingly left in the care of, who I shall refer to as, the 'Ant hill mob', for delivery within 48 hours of collection. The parcel was rather an awkward size granted, and made of glass, being a replacement windscreen for my car. Both of which were noted to the 'Ant hill mob' on placing my order with them.

They were more than happy to accept the £24.99 postage fee for a 48 hour guaranteed delivery period, which was deposited in their account quicker than superman on the toilet! With no qualms regarding the fragility of my package. Indeed I went to lengths to include on the delivery ticket stamped to the front of the parcel 'FRAGILE GLASS WINDSCREEN HANDLE WITH CARE'

It seems that I may as well have written 'PLEASE BREAK ME I BELONG TO AN IDIOT', as today following numerous phone calls trying to track down my parcel, I was informed that it was smashed in Coventry, and disposed of!

Not withstanding the fact the incompetent buffoons broke my screen, they did not have the decency to let me know, that they had broken my screen. If I had not worn the telephone out trying to locate my parcel this afternoon I still would not know that THEY HAD BROKEN MY BLOODY SCREEN.

To compound my grief, they now inform me that their insurance policy does not extend to covering glass in transit. WELL WHY ACCEPT THE BLOODY THING IN THE FIRST PLACE, WHAT DID THEY THINK IT WAS MADE OF- WOOD?

Now like the drink I'm not bitter, but this certainly leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.

Another great British PLC flushing the consumers weary head down the toilet!!!

Wednesday 28 January 2009

Mmm BETTY

An Accident prone pesioner has described his shock at discovering he was the unwitting star of a 1970s TV show.

Mr Frank Spencer, A retired 68 year old with learning difficulties, says he had no idea he was being followed by a camera crew and only realised when the series was repeated on Dave last year.
'I was having a lot of harassments at the time' he admits, 'The BBC was taking advantage of my bad luck. Im very upset, it wasnt a very nice thing to do. Hmmmmm.'

Mr Spencer was secretly filmed from 1973 to 1978 as he suffered a series of mishaps and continually failed to hold down a series of low paid jobs. During the course of the series, made as Spencer was attempting to get over the death of his mother, millions saw him...

Desparately tryig to hold on to the rear bumper of a Morris Minor, hanging off the edge of a cliff, an event which caused him trauma induced flashbacks for decades.

Falling through a ceiling into the bed of his violent next door neighbour, a bar manager, who had previously threatened to murder Mr Spencer.

Clinging to a Church steeple while dressed as a frightening christmas elf.

Spencers wife Elizabeth, and daughter Jessica, were also filmed with Elizabeths full cooperation, according to Frank.

'I didnt know anything about it. Betty did. She let them film and kept all the money. She let them make me look like a fool, but im not a fool. Im just a little clumsy.

'I think thats why she left me, and why I lost touch with her and my daughter,' Frank laughs nervously.
'Thats why Im living in a home now. Ive got nothing. I dont even have my Beret any more. The cat did a whoopsee in it and I had to throw it out!

NEWS FLASH

Huw Edwards rarely cracks a smile when reading the news. Thats because hes terrified that if he did, his makeup woul crack, and his secret would be revealed.
Unbelievably more than 98% of the Welsh newsmans face, is covered with complex polynesian tribal tattoos, which he is forced to disguise with thick concealer before going on air.

Indeed according to a reliable BBC insider, Edwards must spend an incredible THREE HOURS prior to every broadcast, having flesh toned pancake applied to his skin, before he looks normal enough to go in front of the cameras.

The source told me 'Huw had the tattoos done following a £1 bet with the sound man, whilst covering a G8 summit in Tahiti. Hes bitterly regretted it ever since, of course, and the irony is that the sound man got a job at ITV a week later, so Huw never even got his pound!'



Ever wondered why Fiona Bruce, the ice cool News at Ten and Antiques roadshow diva, keeps her head so still when reading the news?
According to my BBC grass, its because Fiona is one of the few women in Britain to ware Burmese neck rings, which stretch her neck to an incredible length of 2 foot 6 inches.

Bruce underwent the neck stretch procedure after watching a World in Action Programme, featuring the Giraffe women of Burma. She now has an amazing 120 rings on her neck, which she must keep on for life.
'The vertebrae are stretched so far apart that if the rings were removed, her head would flop on to the news desk, and she would die!' a leading surgeon told me over cocktails.

Surely not, how have I not seen these rings Craig, I hear you ask, well just hold your horses Im about to tell, and dont call me shirley.

To disguise the neck when reading the news, Bruce kneels down behind a foam rubber torso, specially created by boffins in the BBc special effects department.
To add realism the man who used to operate Gordon the Gopher works a pair of artificial limbs to shuffle the papers!

With regard to the Antiques road show, Bruce relies heavily on Stunt doubles!

TWITTER

Check out twitter.com, its great. An interactive forum.

Chat to me OB1KNOB.

Tuesday 27 January 2009

BRANDED AGAIN

In his public apology, Russell Brand said that all he's ever wanted to do was make people laugh.

Ahhh,

Okay Russell, any time your ready mate.

WOW

Check out the music and daily quotation gadgets, I shall update both now and again, let me know if you want me to keep any particular game or video longer.

Try listening to the radio while you read todays blog entry.

Im here to please!

CELEBRITY QUESTION TIME

Celebrity Kerry Katona, is seldom off our screens. Whether she is stuffing her face with budget frozen chicken nuggets, or stuffing her face with essential medication, she's always there.
I ask why?
I am baffled as to the source of her fame, so I thought Id invite any reader of my Blog to help decide once and for all.

Please leave your sugestion as to what YOU think Kerry Katona is famous for?

BRANDED

I dont think that it is enough that Russell Brand has quit, and Johnathon Ross has been suspended, and the director of radio 2 resigned over manuel-gate.
Surely Gordon Brown has to go too.
After all he was primeminister when this sorry afair happened.

The person who has shown the biggest lack of judgement in this case is Georgina Baillie, Mr Sachs's Grandaughter, In having sex with Russell Brand in the first place! What was she thinking of?

DISASTER

Im feeling a little down today, as the book I was half way through writing, managed to get erased from the old Jornada lap top I was using. Only 12 months work, never mind. I have a few notes, I may start again, dont feel like it a moment too depressed.
Now Im getting angry GRRR..
Now sad again..
Now empty, a hollow vessel. Bobbing up and down on the tide of life, waiting for the next storm to throw me ashore.
Perhaps a piece of cake will cheer me up, sugar is a great healer.

Yep that seemed to do it, back to the siilyness!

Sunday 25 January 2009

Thought...

Just a thought, Why dont apes turn in to Humans anymore?

Saturday 24 January 2009

AMAZING!

Have you heard the amazing story of the two Burmese fishermen, shipwrecked off the North Coast of Australia.

They managed to cling to an Ice Box which was part of the debris from the wreck, for an amazing '25 days'. When asked how they managed to survive, they said that rain water was collected and saved for drinking, and that birds vomit was eaten.

Now I don't want to cast aspersions on there amazing survival, but how did they manage to tempt birds on to their makeshift raft, and on successfully tempting them induce them in to vomiting?

Could I suggest that the Ice box, which was apparently the size of a desk, was in fact a fridge, and they have managed to survive on babybells, sushi and other such items from the ships galley.

PESKY FRENCHIES

I heard today that the various government departments representing the European union, all competing to become the first to gain favour with Mr Obama, have outlined there commitments to various global issues.

The British raised the continued commitment towards reducing emissions.
The Germans highlighted their commitment towards World poverty over the coming years,
and the Italians Environmental issues.

The French brought to the attention of the new President, that the duty on exported cheese to the US was far too high and asked for an immediate reduction.

What can I say?

WEATHER OR NOT, FORECAST

DOGGER---Caught---trousers down---getting breezy---damp patches.
DOVER-----Sole---Lemon---Drizzle---Becoming moist
BISCAY-----Bay of---Lobster---Crabpot--WestSouthWestEasterly rising
FITZROY SOLE---Repair---Cobblers---Very wet at times

LUNDY---Just a silly name

SHANNON---Irish---Limerick---Becoming rough in North
RUCKALL,MALLIN AND HEBRIDES---Far too cold to worry

Finally, FAIR ISLE, AND SOUTH EAST ICELAND--- Bancrupt.

That concludes the shipping forecast for today 24/01/09.

Friday 23 January 2009

1,000,000th customer...

I would like to thank 'FatMac' for becoming my first follower.

MY THREE POINT PROMISE

1. I solemnly sware I shall not let your faith in me down, I will uphold the standards and decency in my posts, to the levels you would expect.

2. I shall attempt to brighten your days, in these financially uncertain times, and offer an escape to the monotony of everyday life.

3. None of the above

ROCK RANT

I don't believe it, a wise poet once said, can I believe my ears. I am led to understand that Northern Rock Executives have decided to award themselves bonuses. Well bloody good for them, not content with using OUR money to bail out the Geordie bank, they have done such a good job with the unlimited underwritten funds WE have supplied them with, in the form of our taxes, and the misery which will unfold in the following years when we will be asked to fork out more money in higher taxes to pay for this borrowing, they have now decided to award themselves bonuses for 'saving' the bank and meeting repayment targets set by the government.
Hip Hip Hooray, well done Northern Cock!

GOOD NEWS

It seems that I am not only a share holder in RBS, LlOYDS and NAT WEST Banks, but also may be on the verge of acquiring an interest in Liverpool football club, which has a substantial financial commitment to RBS, in the form of a £350million outstanding loan.

It transpires that RBS, have given Messrs Gillette and Hicks the current owners of the club, until July to repay the loan. If not re payed or sold by this date the club and assets will be seized by the bank.
As I have already bailed out RBS, and am a big hitter in the board room.. I can tell you there will be a few changes in store for the Red devils, if we take over the club.

For a start the team shirt will be changed, I rather like Orange, and I have made an indiscreet approach to a rather large pie outlet for sponsorship, 'Pies-R-Us', Impressed I can tell.

Thursday 22 January 2009

CELEB CORNER

Posh spice, Victoria Beckham, recently revealed in an exclusive interview, that she 'wishes she could be anonymous'.

Don't we all?

Paul Mcartney is at last getting his recent unfortunate divorce in to perspective.

In olden days, if you were unfortunate enough to be robbed by an Omniped, it would almost certainly be a pirate. At least he came out of this alive!

LOOKALIKES

Has anyone seen John Seargent and Jo Brand together?

Is it just me or do all Koala bears look like Michael Winner?

Has anyone else noticed that Phil Mitchel out of East Enders, looks like an uncooked sausage in a shirt?

WIERD SCIENCE

I was outside 'Pies-R Us', last Saturday, when a worm hole in the space time continuum opened up. I looked on in disbelief as several trainers, half a dozen DM's and three rather comfy looking brogues, all left feet strangely enough, were sucked in to a parallel universe.

I couldn't quite believe the what I was witnessing, what were the chances of only the left shoes being taken by the mass of all consuming energy, I asked the manager of the shop in question, 'Shoes-R -uS', this very question.

"The annoying thing is, the missing shoes are still here, but I cant get at them because they are existing as what is called 'Dark Energy'. occupying a parallel dimension.
So the right ones I've still got in the shop are no good to me." he answered.

ROAD RAGE

To the woman putting on make up on whilst driving her blue BMW 3 series, badly, in the outside lane of the keswick bridge, A9 on Monday:

If you want to use the highway as a make up studio, May I recommend the A268 rather than the A9 - its much longer, so you should have time to get all your slap on!!

Tuesday 20 January 2009

IS TIME RUNNING OUT?

Every day, newspaper scare stories warn that were exhausting the worlds natural resources.
Whether its oil, Gas ozone, rain forests or fish, the chanses are were using up our dwindling supplies like theres no tomorrow.
Now, says a report from a leading university, ther may not even be a tomorrow. For if the boffins calculations are correct, we are wasting time at such a rate, that by the year 2040 we will have run out of it all together, and everything will stop.
People simply dont seem to realise that Time is a finite resource, the reports author told us.

I contacted time boffin Mr Stephen Hawking, to describe what Britain may look like in 2040, when time runs out.
" The first thing that will strike a visitor to the timeless world of tomorrow, will be how very dark it is, even in the middle of the day.
Thats because light travells at 186000 miles per second. Without seconds to travell in, the light will simply stay up in space, casting our World in to a state of constant gloom. As a result we will have to carry torches everywhere we go.
Ordinary activities which we take for granted now will become impossible, when time runs out.
Our boiled eggs will always come out wrong, either too hard or too soft, as ther will be no way to judge how long theyve been in the pan, and setting the video to record our favourite programmes while we are out will be a nightmare."

FINANCE NEWSFLASH

Two of the biggest names in British advertising were involved in a furious bust up outside a Popular London nightclub, I can reveal.
Scores of A list celebrities, including cilit bangs Barry Scott, the yes car credit girl and Jacko out of Brush Strokes, were left stunned when bespecktacled Howard out of the Halifax adverts traded punches with another bloke out of the Halifax advert, outside Chinawhites at 3am.
The hostility between the singing mortgage advisors had been simmering for some time, and there are many within the banking industry, who will not be surprised by last nights fireworks.
Only last month,veteran Halifax add king, Howard Brown, launched an astonishing attack on the other bloke out of the adverts, who is believed to be called Trevor or Kieth, in a no holds barred interview with the financil times. "This new bloke has ripped off my act, hes just trying to cash in on my success", fumed Howard.
According to revellers at the trendy westend nightspot, the pair had been eyballing each other all evening.
Tensions finally came to a head, when members of the other bloke out of the Halifax adverts entourage, began taunting Brown as he left the club, accusing him of being a 'has been', and 'fanny face'.
Onlookers said Brown responded by branding a recent ad, in which the other bloke out of the Halifax adverts starred as a wild west gunslinger, singing a cleverly reworded version of Rhinestone cowboy, a 'pile of shit'.
It was at this point the two disgraced stars came to blows.
Witnesses reported that the scuffle ended when former e-sure car insuracnce ad prostitute Michael Winner intervened.
One onlooker told reporters: "I dont know what he said, but it calmed them down immidiately."

Friday 16 January 2009

INTRODUCTION

The following extracts are taken from the introduction to 'MISTLETOE AND BULLETS', A crime thriller, By Craig Saunders.

In the distance I could hear a faint voice calling me, was it an angel beckoning me to a better place?
"Sean its gone eight, You'd better get up"
Ahh, Alas not this time, I was partly right, it was my own little angel, beckoning me to the breakfast table.
"SEAN," The voice got louder.
"OK, I'm up, I'm up, Its so cold",I mumbled in my semi conscious state, pulling the duvet cover over my head.

I heard her footsteps, as she started to climb the stairs.

"Alright, Alright, I'm up, no rest for the wicked, I thought to myself, as I grudgingly left the warmth of my bed, braving the arctic conditions of the bedroom.
"Try not to be late again, I've got to go." She replied, as the footsteps returned downstairs.
"What no breakfast in bed then"? I called back, as I started to dress.
"No there's tea in the pot, and you've a letter, its on the table", and with that there was a rattle of keys, and the front door slammed.

"Love you too".

Let me introduce myself, Sean Lawson, 39 years old, retired, presumed by many as deceased, previous occupation...well..Iv'e had a number of jobs since officially leaving school, none of them legitimate in the eyes of the law though, if I had to sum up my role in society in a few words, it would probably be pest control specialist.

Born in Bermondsey, South London, in 1969,smacked on the arse, and been fighting back ever since. The name on my birth certificate is Sean Philips, the illegitimate son of a popular local working girl, complications at birth meant that I would remain an only child.
We lived on the third floor of a neglected private block of flats on an estate, aptly named the Hope Estate. I say we, that included me, my mother and a string of uncles who seemed to come and go at all hours of the day and night, well I did say she was popular.
I suppose now, thinking back, anyone of them could have been my father, but I try not to think back, we never discussed him anyway, I felt no worse off not having on as I grew up, that's what I told myself anyway. In truth it would have been nice to have had somebody to teach me how to ride a bike with out stabilisers, or to play football with or just to turn to for advice, none of that sort of stuff seemed to be in my mums remit, anyway I did OK, and at least it saved money on fathers day cards.
I wasn't particularly academically minded at school, but that wasn't through a lack of interest, I liked learning, but just found the formality of it all difficult to take, I'd never liked taking advice, let alone orders, and I suppose without any real discipline at home the grass always looked greener on the other side of the school fence.
So I ended up going to school when I had to, and didn't when I could get away with it, and as long as I wasn't around the flat when my mother was entertaining yet another uncle, she couldn't have cared less where I was.
It sounds cliched, I know, but the streets became my education, at the school of hard knocks, well that and the local library, where I could learn at my own pace.
It may seem a strange thing to say, baring in mind my history to date, but I don't feel that my childhood has adversely affected me at all, I believe destiny has pretty much planned out everything for us anyway, and I' have always been a bloody good pest controller, whatever had happened.
CHAPTER 1
FRIENDS REUNITED
"My God, it must be colder in here than it is outside, Oh well soon be Christmas" I was talking to myself again, I'd been doing a lot of that recently, "First sign of madness, they reckon", I mumbled to myself as I made my way downstairs.
Standing in the kitchen, eating my cold toast, thanks Karren, I ripped open my envelope and read the card inside, suddenly my whole World began to shrink around me, I had to steady myself by leaning on the table.
Merry Christmas Sean, is it Lawson or Philips these days?
Congratulations on your miraculous recovery.
We'll be in touch.
An innocent enough greeting you might think, the envelope had a lovely clear South London postmark as well, it didn't need to be signed.
Nine years, nine long quiet bloody years, slowly building a new life, now this.
I had a some phone calls to make;
"Hello blacksmith arms public house", was the reply, at least the pubs still standing I thought.
"Is Dave Johnson about please mate," I asked not hopeful of much luck with my first try.
"Dave, its for you" I was amazed to hear in the background.
"Cheers Bob, who is it".
"Didn't say, and hurry up this ain't a bloody public phone for you toerags".
"Alright, Alright, keep yer bloody hair on, what there is left anyway" I heard Dave mumble as he was passed the phone.
"David"?
"Yeah, who's this", he replied.
"Sean"
"Sean who"?
"Sean of the bloody dead", suddenly came in to my mind, rather witty I thought. There was a silence.
"Dave"? I asked again.
"Bloody Hell Sean Phil........" I stopped him from completing the name.
"Don't say my name in the pub for Christs sake, I know this must be a shock for you, but calm down and call me back on this number, got a pen mate"?
Five minutes later my mobile rang, long time since Id had a call from a London number.
"Dave, its a good job your such a creature of habit, have you actually moved from that stool since Ive been gone"? I asked.
"I can hardly believe it Sean, is it really you" he asked, his words tumbling over each other with excitement.
"The one and only"
"Why, Where are you? I cant believe it, your taking a risk aren't you?, I mean your dead, he continued.
"Modern medical science mate, ther's a lot to be said for it", I replied
"Its so good to hear you mate, Ive missed your Dulcie tones" he continued.
"Me to, Me to" I held back my emotions, I needed to be professional about the situation.
"Apart from being dead, how are you" he asked.
"Oh Ive been better, don't take this the wrong way but I wasn't expecting to speak to you again mate, how are you"?
There was another pause.
"Oh you know, struggling on"
"Listen mate, has anyone been asking about me, or mentioned my name"? I asked.
"It must be nearly ten years Sean, no ones mentioned you for as long as I can remember, since around the funeral time. Why whats up?"
"Someone seems to have taken an interest in me, Ive had a bloody Christmas card, how they got my address, I don't know, and after all this time, there's only two people who know I'm alive let alone where I live".
My tone must have worried Dave, as he knew that he was one of the two people I was referring to, his voice became sterner.
"One person Sean, Chris died nearly two years ago, and obviously there was no way of letting you know, I ain't got a clue where you are anyway, or if you were still alive, so you don't need to ask if Ive said anything."
I stopped him from continuing,"I know that mate, that's not why I'm calling, It hasn't even crossed my mind. What happened to Chris".
Even though it had been nearly ten years since I had seen or spoken to Chris I was shocked at the news, and had to sit down.
"Occupational hazards Sean, a lots changed around here since you left mate, new faces, new money, some of us old faces don't fit in anymore. We often thought about you Sean.
Still shocked at the news of Chris's death I finally said.
"I need to see you Dave, I wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't serious, I need to get down there and smoke the bastards out, I'm not waiting for them to make the next move. They've caught me off guard, now its my turn, If someones got the bollocks to come after me, I want to see the whites of their eyes before I pull them out".
"I'm travelling down tomorrow, give us a bell around noon, on this number, and I'l arrange to meet you, I'm sorry to involve you in this Dave but its important, can you do that for me?"
"You don't have to ask mate, It'll be great to see you again".