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How long?

It’s been a year since I did a Roast. I know when reviving this column I said I would only do it occasionally, but a whole year …! Does this mean I don’t get out much any more?

Well, I do, I just have so many other things to occupy my time, namely trying to polish up my novel, Dead Girl Stalking so I can release on Amazon. But this doesn’t mean I no longer observe the bizarre around me. Take the incident after my writing breakfast in town the other day.

A bit of bother over a hover

Sunday Roast - Hoverboard 1

Have you seen these things? I hadn’t but they are apparently the latest craze to hit the streets. They’re nicknamed hover-boards, and when I say a craze, I don’t simply mean fad. Craze could be applied to the state of mind of the user, because you must be crazy to ride around on one.

Take the couple I came across after leaving my breakfast venue.


Young man in baseball cap with cute young girl on his arm. Or was it the other way round? You see the man was on one of these hover-boards, being motorised around town. However, every time he wanted to turn, his girlfriend had to guide him in the right direction.

Mate, you looked ridiculous. It was as if she were taking her pet for a walk. His body never moved an inch, all the time thinking he was the man, and so cool. But if the girlfriend had let go of his hand, I suspect street cred would have dropped quicker than he did as he tumbled to the ground.

However, he didn’t as girlfriend guided her puppy around corners and finally helped him across the road, all the time doing the work while he didn’t flex a muscle.

But then we had the ultimate joke. Do you know where Hoverman went after I took the photograph? He turned right and entered a bloody gym!

Arrrggghhh! Perhaps if he’d walked for once in his life and didn’t use a hover-board, he wouldn’t need to go to a gym!

And then there’s the name – hover-boards. But they don’t even bleeding well hover!!! They have wheels and are quite clearly rolling along the ground.

Hover-boards, for Christ’s sake. Watch people move effortless. Or in the case of my home town, wait five seconds until you hit an uneven pavement and go arse over tit.

People who play with odd shaped balls

Sunday Roast - World Cup Rugby

So it’s the Rugby World Cup (sense the underwhelmed tone) and I have to say, I’m not interested.

It’s not the game I hate, I simply don’t understand it. What I also despise is the culture surrounding the sport. All this male bonding, arm in arm on pub tables singing, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, coming for to carry them home because they’re too pissed to drive. You’ve also got to admire the irony of middle class white folk singing a black spiritual about gaining freedom from slavery.

Anyway, I kind of grasp the principle of getting the ball (Ball!! A ball is a spheroid) from one end of the field to the other. What I can’t fathom are details such as penalties given for no other reason than the referee thought it was time he awarded one. And the referees, themselves are an enigma. They watch all this carnage on the field and do nothing, then some person taps an opponent on the shoulder to say, ‘Pardon me, Claude,’ and he gives a bloody foul. Baffling. It’s stop/start all the way through the game with possession passing at random. And scrums … don’t get me started on scrums. What the bleeding frig are they all about? It’s like a bizarre game of twister.

Twister - Sunday Roast

But who do we have to blame for this stupid game? Yes, Mr William bloody Webb Ellis (Now you know why I’m good at quizzes … Huh!). You see, in 1823, during a game of football while at Rugby Posh School, Ellis allegedly picked up the ball and ran.

William Webb Ellis

Well, isn’t that just typical. When you were at school, wasn’t there always one tosspot who due to the fact they were shit at soccer, would start either bouncing the ball around like a basketball, or run with it in order to disguise their own inadequacies at the sport.

And so we have Rugby, a game created by somebody who thought themselves the bees knees at being class comic, but was, in fact, a total twat.

*** Appendices***

(i) Rugby ~ A game for people who aren’t skilful enough to play football.

(ii) Football ~ A game for those unable to understand the rules of cricket.

Nothing is free in this life

Do any older folk remember the free gifts you used to get in your cereal packets? Little plastic figures of Sooty and Sweep, or Doctor Who collectable cards such as these.

Dec 1 - Doctor Who Wheatbix

They made breakfasts worthwhile and got the kids eating because what they really wanted was for Mum and Dad to buy a new packet as soon as possible in order to get another gift.

Now, however, the term free with your cereal is used very creatively. Take Kellogs, for example.

I purchased a packet of cornflakes the other day and saw the words, Get you Free Bowl on the back of the box.

img018 (1280x1251) (640x626)

Great … Free gift. Just like old times. But hang on a minute. On closer inspection, I noticed the facts.

Step 1: Buy three promotional packs of cornflakes to collect the tokens.

Okay, so how is that free?

Step 2: Go online and enter the codes from inside the boxes.

Right …. that’s assuming you have internet, otherwise you’ll have to go to an internet café, pay a charge and buy a medium latte while you register for your free cereal bowl.

Step 3: Pay £2 postage.

Arrggghhhh! That’s not fucking free!!!

Then after choosing your bowl (Step 4) in this exceptionally quick and simple way of getting something for nothing, you come across the final hurdle.

Step 5: Wait for your bowl to be delivered, noting that the packet states this will take up to 90 days.

What!!! For heavens sake. You can buy bowls from a supermarket for a quid. Heck, I could even join a pottery class, learn how to mould clay and make a bloody cereal bowl in less than 90 days if I wanted.


Well, that warps up this roast

I shall bid you farewell and at this rate, see you this time next year.





Nights like these,
they are the worst.
I know where I should be.
But I’m not.
I’m here.

Two weeks,
four days,
eighteen hours
and seventeen minutes,
give or take.
Who’s counting?

I wait for the release,
even though I know it’s not coming.
When will it end,
this illness?
Another day,
still no sign.

Understand the diagnosis
and accept there’s no cure.
Raise a glass
to heal the pain,
but it’s too strong.
So I sit alone
and listen to the walls talk.


© Antony N Britt 2010


Being a writer has its drawbacks, and one of these are the questions which come from non-writers. Made in innocence, but annoying all the same in a way only writers will understand. Therefore, I shall explain a few so you’ll know in future why my face is turning purple.

1. Never under any circumstance try to tell a writer what would be a good idea for a plot.

I have this great idea for a story. I think you should write it.’

No, if it’s that good, maybe you should write it. After all, it’s your idea and who better to see it to fulfillment. That’s the polite way of replying. The other is to scream through clenched teeth that of course I’ll write your story, because after years of doing it well, I have no more bloody ideas of my own.

2. ‘Don’t despair, JK Rowling had numerous rejections before she was published.’

Fuck off! Never use the JK word. We all know how many rejections she had, so don’t mention it. There are writers with far more skill than the wizard’s creator but much about being successful is due to luck. Unless you’re a celebrity who can write a novel in wax crayon on the back of a napkin and still get it published, I’m afraid you’re in the slush pile, ever hoping an agent will allocate thirty seconds to read the first page of your book.

3. In response to telling somebody you’ve had a story published.

That’s good. Did you get paid?’

Okay, this is a common one. I’m always being asked it. As if making money from my writing makes it more valid. But really …. do I go around asking people what they earn for a living? No. Whatever you make from producing porn is your business. Hey, it’s a free country.

However, I will clear this up and the answer is, yes. Sometimes. Often it’s zero, but I have earned anything from £1.68 total royalties for a failed anthology to £250 with a short story. It depends who you are submitting to.

4. And another one I hate …

It’s said, everybody has a novel in them.’

No they bloody well don’t, otherwise everybody would write a novel. It’s probably the case that we all have an idea, but only when you’ve a final draft of 75,000 plus words, do you have that novel. Grrrrr.

5. The final main one is often directly after somebody you know has read your work for the first time. Now I like to receive praise, but not accompanied by a look of astonishment.

Hey, this is actually really good.’

Jesus, don’t sound so surprised. I’ve been doing this years and actually – yes, I am bloody good at it.

Those are the main ones, but of course there are others.

Q – Why don’t you write something more cheerful?

A – I mostly write dark fiction and had this comment on my novel. Hell, yes! Let’s make bullying, sexual assault, decapitation and psychotic episodes into a comedy.

Q – ‘Where do you get your ideas from?’

A – Erm … my mind.

Q – ‘Have you had anything published?’

A – Because apparently, you’re not a proper writer until this has happened. Yes, I have, about thirty short stories and poems, plus numerous articles. But even if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t mean I’m not a writer.

Q – ‘Are your characters based on real people?’

A – Of course, because I have no imagination of my own. Okay … cue the arrival of the sarcasm police. NO! Theyre all my ideas. It’s what I do.

Comment – ‘I thought about writing a novel once.’

My reply – ‘Really, so did I.’

Comment – ‘To be honest, I don’t read.’

My reply – ‘You do know you can get lessons for that.’

And finally, the classic …

Comment – ‘I wish I had the time to write stories.’

My reply – … Well, there isn’t one. I’ve normally walked off by now, returning to my tedious day of doing nothing as I have all the time in the world to do it.

Okay, so I jest a little, but do think before you release these utterances. Writing is bloody hard, and to be good at it takes years. Unless, of course, you are Katie Price or some other Z-List celebrity, then you can simply pay some poor unheard of writer to do it for you.

April 15 - Writer



Heroes & Sweethearts - Aldridge Musical Comedy Society. Cannock 22-23 May 2015

Pack Up Your Troubles and return to 1940s wartime Britain with a concert of song and dance to celebrate the 70th anniversary of VE Day.

Heroes and Sweethearts is the latest offering from the marvelous Aldridge Musical Comedy Society (AMCS) and will be on at the Prince of Wales Theatre, Cannock, 22-23 May 2015. For almost 50 years, AMCS have been delivering quality productions and Heroes and Sweethearts is no exception.

Numbers include: In the Mood, White Cliffs of Dover, We’ll Meet Again, Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy, It Don’t Mean a Thing and Chattanooga Choo Choo, all which will have the audience singing and tapping in their seats.

Heroes & Sweethearts is the brainchild of producer Julie Lamb and will be supported by a full band with musical direction from Mark Baylis and choreography by Sarah Hemming.

The show is being staged in partnership with the Royal British Legion, an association which came about through negotiation between AMCS costume designer, Sarah Carter and Alison Bates of the Legion. The hope is not only to honour the events of World War II, but also raise money for a fantastic charity which continues to support our armed forces past and present.


Left to Right: Julie Lamb, Sgt Dan O’Sullivan, Alison Bates, Sarah Carter.

One such recipient of Legion support is Sgt Dan O’Sullivan who in 2011 was assaulted and left with serious head injuries. After a lengthy spell in hospital, Dan spent time at the Portland College, Mansfield, a stay partly funded by the Legion. At the college, Dan learned to walk, talk, eat and drive again and has since had further assistance to adapt his home in order to allow independent living. Dan is a keen supporter of local fund raising activities and is looking forward to seeing the show.

Performances Friday 22 to Saturday 23 May 2015 at 7.30 pm (with additional Saturday Matinee – 2.30 pm). Tickets can be obtained from the box office on 01543 578762 or by going online to with options to book direct from AMCS.

Don’t miss out on this magnificent experience.



£6/Child (U16).


A question I’m often asked about writing is how do I come up with my ideas?

May 20 Question

Now I don’t want to appear arrogant, but that’s never been a problem. You see, there’s a trick, and it’s one I’ll share.

The ideas and inspiration are everywhere you look, and that’s what you have to do – look. And listen.

The most insignificant observation could be the spark which ignites the idea which will evolve into a poem, short story, or even a novel.

Consider the first short story I had published. Second Best featured brothers of European nobility in Ivan and Emil. Taking part in a writing group, I was confronted by several objects and challenged to create a story from them. Now one item was a cloth jester toy. Now already known for writing the macabre online, I was drawn to this fellow but while some might concoct tales of cheer concerning a toy, my first thought was that this thing could choke a person if swallowed. And that’s exactly what I did in my story. After a short lifetime of bullying at the hands of older brother, Ivan, little Emil could take no more and Ivan had his comeuppance as the jester toy was rammed down his throat, thus choking him to death. Okay, there was more to the story than just that, but I often get the ending first and simply have to write the story to reach the conclusion.

Subsequently, I’m always on the lookout for ideas and find them when I least expect.

An encounter in a bookshop, a memorial bench, characters in my street (sorry neighbours), a ghost hunt. All have been the inspiration which led to short stories I’ve had published since. Some of them major competition winners.

The reality is, anything you see or hear could be turned into a story. As I look in my notebook, I see a recent entry written while watching, The Antiques Roadshow. It was a few weeks ago when one of the experts tried to value a piece of wood with Indian carvings. It was part of a much larger piece but the mystery was in the fact it had been found buried in a back garden.

Wow! It opened all sorts of questions. What was it, why was it buried in the back garden, and how long had it been there? They didn’t know the answer on the show and neither do I at the moment, but I will one day. At least in a story.

Other jottings include:

The stumbling drunk more concerned with getting to Yates’ bar than stopping to wait for his friends.

The second step from the bottom of the theatre auditorium which makes a noise when you tread on it.

The fresh iron burn on my new carpet being in exactly the same place as one made by the previous occupants on the old carpet.

The overheard comment. “It’s amazing the noises you hear within the silence.”

The sepia photograph of Victorian children. All smiling, bar one. Why?

And only today as I drove past a cemetery. In the middle of the road, rolling down the hill was a blue ball and not a soul in sight.

All of the above will at some point be used, I just have to come up with the scenario to do so. However, having had the ideas, you have to make sure you don’t forget them. Therefore, always carry something to note down what you see.



After a self imposed exile, I have at last got four new pieces out which are fortunately all contained in one volume.

Winter Festivals is anthology put together by the Walsall Writers’ Circle which I am privileged to be a member (Actually, that reminds me, I haven’t paid my subs but in my defence, I haven’t been available to attend a meeting this autumn to do so).

Winter Festivals covers a wide range of topics such as Christmas, Samhain, Yelda, New Year and Diwali in the form of short stories, articles and poems.

My own pieces are:

A short story about ritual sacrifice in ancient times, titled – Burnt Offerings.

Two poems – Christmas Lights in November, and Christmas Cheer.

And an atheists observation – Christmas, Bah Humbug!

Saturday – November 8 at 1100, there is an official launch at Southcart Books, Lower Hall Lane, Walsall where I shall be reading Burnt Offerings (at about 1110). This is a chance to come and hear a selection of the pieces, speak to the authors and of course, buy the book. If you can’t get down on the day, you can buy the book now, either in print, or download the ebook.

Winter Festivals

Purchase Winter Festivals Anthology.



What’s the buzz? Let me tell you what’s happening. Classic rock opera, Jesus Christ Superstar is in the region for three nights only. The groundbreaking musical by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber which has delighted audiences for decades is on at the Prince of Wales Theatre, Cannock from the 20th to 22nd November 2014.

Originally produced as a concept album, the musical arrangements on Jesus Christ Superstar mix rock with the classical in multi-layered dynamics which are as fresh today as 40 years ago. The score features well known numbers including: Heaven on Their Minds, I Don’t Know How to Love Him, the semi-comical, Herod’s Song, and of course, Superstar.

Performed by a magnificent cast with excellent musical direction and choreography, Jesus Christ Superstar tells the story of the final days of Christ and his ultimate betrayal by Judas Iscariot. Beginning with uplifting exuberance, events quickly turn with the arrest and trial of Christ, leading to its poignant conclusion. The production contains a passionate portrayal of characters, triumph, struggle and subsequent tragedy.

This current show is the latest offering from the excellent Aldridge Musical Comedy Society (AMCS). For almost 50 years, AMCS have been delivering quality productions and Jesus Christ Superstar is no exception.

Staged from Thursday 20 to Saturday 22 November 2014, tickets can be obtained from the box office on 01543 578762 or by going to with options to book direct from AMCS or online.

Don’t miss out on a rare chance to share in this magnificent experience.

£12/adult, £10/Concessions and £6/Child.




David is my teenage son and autistic. When first diagnosed at the age of three, the doctor told me he would never develop mentally. However, over the years he has evolved within his own world. Here, I hope to tell of some of the strange but sometimes wonderful things about him and hopefully give a little insight and understanding into living with autism.

Living with David Jan 8 2013
Okay, I never meant to leave it this long, but I can now tell you what happened following my last post in January this year: What’s Been Happening – Part One.

Last year, having been failed miserably by the college trusted to instruct him in life skills, David was more or less confined within an assessment unit for psychiatric patients. He didn’t need to be there, the team medically discharged him after four weeks. The problems of his meltdowns have always been present, though and needed understanding with prevention and intervention methods, something management at the first college were unwilling to do, despite the excellent staff support.

He spent eight months at the assessment unit in Walsall. I’m not saying it was a bad place, don’t get me wrong, the staff were tremendous, but the unit was not where David needed to be. Somebody as lively and active needed stimulation, which the unit could not provide. He had his computer, but no internet. He also had his camera, MP3, and trains. However, what David did not have was his liberty. The highlight of a typical day for David, if I were not able to visit due to my 24-hour shifts, was a half hour stroll down the road to the local shop to purchase a milkshake. Therefore, although I tried to restrict my visits to alternate days so he would not become dependent on seeing me, this soon failed and I would end up going every day I was not at work.

I have to say, that was not good for our relationship with one another. He had nothing in his life and it was the same day after day. I could go as often as I wanted but the sad fact was, with David’s limited conversation, there was little to talk about.

He was bored and at least once a week I would bring him home so he could access the internet and make some of the wonderful audio/visual creations he is fond of. But the situation was still desperate, and it nearly ended dragging us both down. For him, the constant looking forward to my visit. For me – eight months of having my days off revolve around when I would see him. We’ve probably all been there; a relative in hospital and visiting hours dictating your life. This was the case for us lasting eight months.

A treat of a few days in Llandudno, a special firework display on his 21st birthday followed by a meal, these were all things which helped break the monotony.

In the meanwhile, staff at the assessment unit worked alongside social workers trying to find a new placement for David. I visited several, some of which may have worked, but I and those who supported David decided he needed the best available.

A specialist autism college was sourced, but funding was an issue with the decision taking months to arrive. Now before people decry the council – don’t. I totally understand. These places cost a heck of a lot and all avenues needed to be explored first. Finally, a couple of days before Christmas, David received the best possible present with the news he had a place at the specialist college.

On February 3 this year, David was taken to his new college by his key nurse, Sonia from the assessment unit. She, like many at the unit, helped David immensely. That day, I made my own way and he was already relaxing in the communal area he shares with three others. He looked happy, as you can see from this picture of him in his room.

Living with David - New College Bedroom. © Antony N Britt

It’s early days but so far, indications are that this has been the right move. David has loads of activities and is actually eating healthy for once in his life, losing weight as a result. Okay, he still tries it on with new staff on occasional trips to McDonald’s where he’ll insist he always has twenty nuggets, and not nine. I travel to see him once a month (it’s a fair distance) and he’s come home to stay a number of times. I have also just returned from taking him away for a week to his beloved Paignton where he saw his favourite steam trains, Lydham Manor and Hercules, every day.

I speak regularly and staff supported him to see his sister in a production of Singin’ in the Rain, and also to attend his cousin’s wedding. Not often does a day goes by without him messaging me on Facebook or posting his Christmas, Birthday and holiday wish lists to my wall. I even have a regular delivery of post with his latest (often laminated) lists.

It is anticipated he will be there a number of years before he is ready to return to the borough with the plan of moving into supported living. I’m not going to give the name of the college as I don’t want to infringe on their privacy. All I can say is they are doing good, and I am glad that one horrible chapter in David’s life is over.




I’m back.

Sept 2014 I'm Back © Antony N Britt

Yes, even though I said I was going to end the Sunday Roast when I last posted in December 2013, I couldn’t help myself. You see, there are so many stupid things to comment on, and they all seem to happen to me. Therefore, what I shall do is offer an occasional meal for you. And here it is.

So what’s been happening?

I’ve been busy: Writing another book, rehearsing for a musical, and working bloody hard.. I’ve also not long returned from a week’s holiday in my favourite exotic hotspot – Torbay.

Sept 24 - Torbay © Antony N Britt

Now don’t laugh, I’ve been going there on and off for 35 years and this was my 18th trip. I love the place. You’d think after all that time, though, I’d be bored, but you’re wrong. There’s always something new to see, like the most sinister looking Disney Tramp I have ever seen.

Sept 2014 - Tramp © Antony N Britt

Really, the thing looked rabid. And while I was in the same amusement arcade, I noticed this in one of the 2 pence tipping machines.

Sept 2014 - 2p Machine © Antony N Britt

Okay, how exactly are you supposed to win that mug? There is no way it would ever get down the drop slot and even if it did, it would smash.

But that wasn’t all I saw on holiday. I took the kids on their bi-annual visit to the model village and this was in one of the displays.

Sept 2014 Charlton Heston

I hate to ask, but had the late Charlton Heston begun a course of hormone treatment in preparation for a transgender operation? I’m not sure, but those breasts are bigger than my ex-wife’s.

And there were other curiosities …

Sept 2014 - Shopping Train © Antony N Britt

Huh! Why; something Thomas the Tank uses when he goes to Tesco?

And there was an even bigger, why in Dartmouth.

Sept 2014 - Dartmouth Fish © Antony N Britt

Something looks decidedly fishy about that décor.

And another new experience for me in Torbay, I went on the big wheel which you can see in this picture.

Sept 2014 - Torquay Wheel © Antony N Britt

However, it was only when I got to the top and it stopped for five minutes, I suddenly remembered my terrible fear of heights.

Sept 2014 - Top of Big Wheel Torquay © Antony N Britt

Jesuuuus! It was high. I never used to be that scared when I was young, but I was glad to get off this time.

However, the holiday wasn’t all that bad, and I did get to play an upmarket game of crazy golf on a top course.

Sept 2014 - Mini Golf © Antony N Britt

Yes, they don’t make them like they do in Torbay. Not quite sure what the pig is doing, but I made a bit of a ham of my shot as a result.

And I discovered a funny thing in my wallet.

No, it wasn’t a condom – smart arse. Before going on holiday, I emptied my wallet of all the useless things I wouldn’t want (like condoms). However, once in Torbay, I found I did need the store loyalty card, and I did need my petrol miles card, and I especially needed my backup credit card. I may have even needed my driving licence. What I didn’t need, though, was the business card given to me by the guy doing magic tricks at my nephew’s wedding.

So if I needed extra cash or to present my licence, I was buggered. But on the other hand, if I happened to require the services of a magician on holiday … hey, don’t say I’m never prepared on that score.

Sept 2014 - The Magician

And that’s the holiday, but what else have I been doing?

Well, I returned home to find my back patio covered in weeds. Yes, these would be the ones the man who re-laid my slabs two years ago said would never return.

Now I know what you are going to say, weeds are simply flowers growing in the wrong place.

Sept 2014 - Weeds © Antony N Britt

Bollocks! They are not! Weeds are evil and must be eradicated. However, I didn’t want to spend a fortune on weed killer so I was pleased to have a chance encounter with the man who does the gardens at work who told me the trade secret.

Formula: ½ Gallon of Cider Vinegar, 2 tablespoons of washing up liquid, and one cup of salt.

Cup! What size cup, for heaven’s sake: Egg cup, tea cup, FA Cup …? I don’t know, so I took the liberal view and used a mug. However, after spending loads on this pump spray container, I was kind of wishing I’d simply bought the weedkiller in the first place as it would have been far cheaper.

Okay, does a mixture of mainly vinegar really get rid of your weeds? The answer is, yes, but every time I step into my garden now, I get a craving to buy a bag of chips.

Change my name to Doctor Griffin.

Sept 2014 - Invisible Man

You see, that was the name of the Invisible Man in the novel by HG Wells.

So you’re going to ask why … Okay, I’ll tell.

By chance while online, I came across somebody I worked with over twenty years ago. I was surprised, but glad because I liked them and we always got on. I messaged her but imagine how put out I was when after two or three conversations she admitted she couldn’t remember me. I named numerous other staff members of the time, and so did she, but I was still forgotten. How is this possible? We sat opposite one another for two years! Have I been erased from history? Obviously so. But even more weird, at least once a month somebody will come up to me and swear they know me from somewhere, but the person they think I am is not me. Work that one out!

Great, somewhere I have a doppelgänger enjoying a living out of my past.

Too Mush-room on my plate.

The reason for that terrible phrase will become obvious when I explain what will now go down in history as The Great Aberystwyth Wetherspoon’s Mushroom Incident.

Yes, I was in Wetherspoon’s having one of their breakfasts. While ordering, I asked if instead of tomatoes and beans (yuk), could I have extra mushrooms. You see, the breakfast only came with one flat mushroom. And I do like my mushrooms.

I was told yes, and imagine my anticipation when my breakfast arrived and I was told, ‘Your extra mushrooms will come on a separate plate.’

Great … loads of mushrooms. What more could I ask?

Picture my face when this arrived.

Sept 2014 - Single Mushroom Wetherspoons © Antony N Britt

Look, one sodding mushroom in place of beans and tomato is not a fair swap – right?

Is the Sunday Roast back for good?

Probably once a month. And not even on a Sunday sometimes. So it’s just going to be The Roast. You see I’m terribly busy and how many tales of dodgy mushrooms can one person deliver?



Hollywood comes to the region during May in the form of Singin’ in the Rain at the Prince of Wales Theatre, Cannock.

Singin' in the Rain. Prince of Wales Theatre Cannock. 8th – 10th May 2014.

Based on the MGM musical of the same name, the plot adheres closely to the movie telling the story of how the silver screen found its voice and left silent pictures behind. It focuses on romantic lead, Don Lockwood, sidekick Cosmo Brown, aspiring actress Kathy Selden and Lockwood’s leading lady, Lina Lamont whose high-pitched voice makes her an unlikely candidate for talking pictures. The show features all the numbers from the MGM score including: Good Morning, Make ’em Laugh, You Stepped Out of a Dream and of course, the classic Singin’ in the Rain.

Full of charm, comedy and romance, Singin’ in the Rain is the latest offering from the excellent Aldridge Musical Comedy Society (AMCS). For almost 50 years, AMCS have been delivering quality productions and this is no exception. Staged from Thurs 8th to Sat 10th May (including additional Saturday matinee), tickets can be obtained from the box office on 01543 578762 or by going to with the option to book direct from AMCS or online. £12/adult, £10/Concessions and £6/Under 16s.

Singin' in the Rain Cast - 2014



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