Archive for June, 2012


So, here’s what’s been happening, then.

Last week we had holiday tales. The week before, a filler roast as I was actually on the holiday and before that, a right royal rant. It’s therefore been ages since I had a good old swipe at the news and even longer since I mentioned the film Titanic and the fact they could both fit on the plank.

Yep, that’s the one, but no more, even if it is still what most of you are googling for. I’m not going to mention anybody off the Jeremy Kyle Show who has bad teeth, either.

No you don’t but before I go on, I would like to make one comment about the Jubilee from a few weeks back.

Apparently, on the official day of the Jubilee, there was a 60-gun salute fired from Horse Guard Parade.

Sixty guns … Sixty! And not one of the buggers hit.

Football’s crossed a fine line, it seems.

Ever since England were denied a perfectly good over-the-line goal at the last World Cup, the FA have been advocating the introduction of goal-line technology in matches. However, FIFA major prat – Sepp Blatter, has kept rejecting this idea until now. That would be when a bad decision appeared to benefit England during their Euro 2012 game against host nation, Ukraine.

So what’s all the fuss about? Yes, it crossed the line, but you have to account for human error. I mean, an assistant referee standing a couple of feet away. Surely he’s not expected to notice this?

It’s the same as in the build-up. The debate should never have reached the goal-line as the original ball was offside.

The man running the line didn’t notice that, either.

Not only that, there were other, more blatant incidents in the game that went unnoticed too.

Okay. My initial first reaction said that it was over the line but the UEFA and FIFA chiefs have said no to change until now. Therefore, goal-line technology, or some blind bat who should have gone to Specsavers? Should we, in England say, I told you so?

Perhaps 8 out of 10 celebrities are already doing it?

So, comedian Jimmy Carr got caught out shifting his cash in a tax avoidance scheme. Most would, if they knew they could get away with it. Bono has done it for ages while preaching to the masses how we should use our money to care for the poor nations. Anyway, why lambast some hapless mug like Carr? I mean, there are worse criminals out there every day robbing innocent folk and storing their ill-gotten gains in a display of greed in a manner that is unparallelled. What do we call them again? Oh what is it: Looters, thieves, crooks, robbers? Oh no – now I remember. Bankers.

A punishment worse than death.

Democracy campaigner, Aung San Suu Kyi has told how listening to DJ Dave Lee Travis on the BBC World Service during her imprisonment, kept her spirits high. Is she mad? Kept in prison is one thing, but forced to listen to Dave Lee Travis … that’s torture.

Poor old Cheryl.

Aww … Cheryl Cole says her latest song is about a bully junkie she once dated who left her humiliated and depressed. People forget that Cole, herself, was once a violent thug who beat up toilet attendants.

Hmmm … Maybe not such a saint. Glass houses and all that?

In the air tonight?

Apparently, rock legend Phil Collins has ruled out a comeback. The 61-year-old, quit music some time ago after 40 years of bashing the drums left him with nerve damage and hearing problems.

He thinks he had it bad. How about the millions listening to the radio being forced-fed Phil Collins songs; what about our ears?

Talking of music to insult the eardrums …

Generic boy-band, One Direction apparently went fishing off the coast of California and caught a shark. Pity. Can’t a shark go and catch hold of One Direction?

Boys. You do realise you look ridiculous in those outfits?

One Direction. Proof you can promote bilge and get away with it.

Holding a torch?

Okay, do I abandon my principles and watch the Olympic Torch go through the town next Saturday? One – I’m not remotely interested in the Olympics. Two – I’m very anti Olympics as many good charitable projects lost their funding and had to fold due to money being diverted to this white elephant. However, it is said to be a once in a lifetime experience, so should I go?

Answers please …

I rest my case.

So wise woman of the west, Katie Price was quoted this week as agreeing with serial nob, Iain Duncan Smith. Katie says, “We need more IDS style common sense to lift Britain out of the benefits abyss.”

Well Katie, the thing is, not everybody can make a living by simply getting their tits out, selling their lurid stories and then finally getting somebody else to write books that you then pass off as your own.

However, Katie says Iain Duncan Smith is right so who are we to argue. This would be the same Iain Duncan Smith who the day after huge crippling cuts were heaped upon the nation, told us that there were plenty of jobs to go for and we should all get on a bus to find work. Yes, Iain, that would be the plenty of jobs available after your party slashed budgets meaning that up to half a million loyal public sector workers lost their jobs with most facing years of poverty. Still, you must know what you’re talking about, sitting in a mansion with your estimated £1million fortune.

It is also the same Iain Duncan Smith who likes to have a go at the disabled, saying they don’t really do much work, just make cups of coffee and talk.

Iain Duncan Smith and common sense. The two are incompatible. The same as Katie Price and talent.

Katie Price. Her intellectuality and finger on the pulse of the nation is evident for all to see.

Thank God the Jubilee is over.

I did feel a slight bit of sympathy for the Duke of Hazard, Prince Phillip, though. He had to miss a lot of it as he was taken to hospital with a bladder infection. That’s what comes of spending a lifetime taking the piss.

Cheers.

Nick

Non-Fiction Competition Win

Last Thursday, I had the great honour to be named winner of the Walsall Writers’ Circle 2012 Non-Fiction Competition. The fact that all of the entries read out at the meeting were of a hugely impressive standard, makes this award all the more pleasing. Here I am with judges, John Lester and Stuart Williams, being presented with trophy which I get to keep for a year until the 2013 competition.

Walsall Writers’ Circle is an honest, friendly group and I recommend anybody in the locality with an interest in writing, to give it a go. My winning piece – The Invisible Nation, an article on autism, can be found in the Autumn 2012 edition of Blackcountryman Magazine and still on the Walsall Writers’ Circle website, if you scroll down the page.

Cheers.

Nick

Feels like I’m back in school.

Do you remember the experience of going back to school after summer and being asked to write what you did on holiday? Well, this week’s roast is just that. You see, last week, I was away with the kids and actually, this blog should have been posted then. However, due to certain technical limitations (i.e. my mobile phone modem wasn’t strong enough to upload photos at more than one every century), I had to post my reserve blog instead. Therefore, enjoy now, tales of what I did on my sunny holiday.

Okay, so the weather wasn’t as good as one might have hoped. Still, seeing as that Jubilee bilge was a washout, I suspect the Gods of fate would decree I had it coming after what I said about the sponging royals in a previous roast. Also, nine times out of ten, I get glorious weather on holiday in England, even when I go out of season. Therefore, one little blip, the first for years, I shouldn’t really complain … But I’m going to.

Bloody stupid weather. How dare you piss down and wreck my holiday leaving me cooped up in a caravan with three kids having to listen them playing playstation games. Not only that, we were in the caravan nearest the road so I had cars waking me at regular intervals as they drove past in the night. Grrrrr!

There we are, what was the other side of my head on the pillow. A few feet away from Top Gear’s Hammerhead bend.

I should have known it.

I have this plant at home. It’s the only one I’ve never managed to kill within a few weeks of entering my abode. I’ve had it a few years now and it grows for a month then flowers for about seven days then dies off for another year.

Typical. I go away on holiday and that’s how I left it on setting off on the journey. By the time I got back, the petals had begun to drop off. Now I’ve missed it for a year.

Jesus. That was creepy.

Took the kids to Bygones Museum. Bygones is a place full of old stuff. Things of years gone by – as the name suggests, obviously. With recreated streets and the like, you get a feel of being in the past.

However, one display freaked me out. Below, is a shot I took of a reproduction Anderson Shelter from the Second World War.

Nothing wrong with that until after staring for a minute, the old granny turned her head.

Shit! They should give warnings for things like that. How was I to know it was automated?

Even creepier was the tableau of a parlour scene.

Notice the innocent looking children standing by the table, smiling sweetly while the mother is lying dead with blood running from her mouth. No, this really wasn’t a chamber of horrors which makes it all the more disturbing. Bizarre, or what?

Now, even the sat-nav hates me.

Ahhh … Lovely day planned for a trip to Canonteign Falls. I’ve been to Devon about 15 times but this was my first visit to these falls.

Now in the past, I have utilised my fantastic sense of direction but these days, as more senior years approach, I have started to use the sat-nav on my phone. Therefore, kids in the car, we set out on the journey to the edge of Dartmoor.

Problem one. I forgot it was Friday and we hit all the traffic from the holidaymakers going home after their Monday to Friday breaks. Still, a slight blip, then a bigger one. Eleanor decided to touch my phone.

‘What does this do, Dad?’

Arrrghhh! She only went and messed up the sat-nav and lost the signal. Next thing, I’m lost and the gizmo won’t lock onto anything for a while. When it does, it seems to think I am somewhere totally different to where I actually am.

‘At the bend, continue along Tudor Street,’ it says.

That would be all well and good, if I was actually on Tudor Street in the bloody first place, but I’m not.

This is where we ended up when it said I had reached my final destination.

Got to the falls eventually and it was lovely. Not only that, it knackered out the kids.

New neighbours.

On Friday, as I mentioned, a lot of people go home. That also means fresh folk arrive as was the case with our new neighbours in the next caravan.

Typical. They only had a bloody yapping dog.

Great, though it did have one benefit. The thing drowned out the sound of the Grand Prix track on the other side of my bedroom.

Trying to talk the kids out of using the amusement arcade.

‘Can we go to the arcade? Can we go to the arcade? Can we go to the arcade, Dad? Can we go to the arcade?’

Arrgghh! I hate taking the kids to the arcade. It’s all want want want. I remember last year. Eleanor pestered me for ages to have a go on these machines that dispense tickets when you win. I said, ‘No, you never win.’ What does she bloomin’ go and do? She wins. That wouldn’t have been so bad but after pumping the machine with about £30 to get winning tickets, guess what the biggest prize was to redeem at the booth?

A bottle of blowing bubbles!

So, this year, I was adamant. No rip-off machines. Nothing. However, unbeknown to me, David took his own money to a grab machine then despite me saying you always lose on them, he just had to go and prove me wrong. Typical. Look!

Three Georges and a Peppa Pig.

Worse still, the machines hate me now!

Not content with ripping me off by taking all my money with absolutely no chance of winning, the fruit machine short changed me the one time I actually did win.

You see, I got some minor win via one of the feature trails on this machine. £2 in fact. However, when it came to payout, only £1 was dispensed as winnings. I stood puzzled, thinking where the hell is my second pound coin? Then I saw the display.

What … IOU £1? Now I’ve seen it all. I don’t think I’ve ever had an IOU off a fruit machine before and even the man who worked in the arcade was nonplussed as well.

Could luck get any worse?

No, it got better … Yay!

I played my first ever game of bingo in the small entertainment suite at the caravan park. £1 a bingo strip and the winner took the pot. And that was meeeeee!

Got some really dirty looks. There were people buying loads, all sitting there with their silly special marker pens and there’s me, one strip and a biro-bic.

£144. Almost makes the bad bits worth it. I even thought of walking past the fading Jubilee display and raising a glass.

Yeah – right. As if …

Just a couple more gripes.

Before we set off to return home, I took the kids to the Galley Bar and we had a Full English Breakfast. Matthew had one of those yucky Yazoo milkshakes and only half finished it. We went immediately to the shop over the road and I bought similar milkshakes for the journey, though Matthew said he didn’t need one as he still had half a bottle. It didn’t stop Corporal Calamity placing it on the counter though, in a daydream and the stupid woman at the till scanning it. I was only told, on the journey, what had happened and I’d paid twice for the same milkshake. Grrrrr!

Oh yes. And for once … would it be possible to be allocated a caravan where the toilet seat doesn’t fall off?

Still, a good holiday, despite the rain. Not only that, when they returned to school, it gave the kids something to write about what they did on their holiday.

Cheers.

Nick

This Saturday – 16 June, I shall be reading my latest poem at the Coventry Mysteries Festival during the launch of a new poetry pamphlet in which my poem is included. Hiding in the Pub to Cutting the Cord is published by Nine Arches Press and I shall give details how to get it as soon as I know.

All poems will be on display in a marquee in Broadgate, Coventry from 10am till 4pm and poetry readings are between 12 and 1pm.

Cheers.

 

Nick

 

A brief explanation.

The Sunday Roast first appeared on Myspace in October 2008 and ran until September 2011 on that site. All of the posts are still there but unfortunately, in many of the roasts, my pictures appear to have vanished.

Thanks a bloody lot, Myspace. Many of those older posts do not make sense any more – if they ever did. Therefore, I will reproduce some of the best bits that I used to stick as Picture of the Week.

Secondhand porn magazines. Any takers?

This was in the first ever Sunday Roast, though the picture was taken later. It shows the frontage of a bookshop, and not just any old bookshop either. This one specialises in, erm … magazines, books and DVDs of a sexual nature. However, look at the notice above the door.

Book exchange? I don’t want to think about secondhand books from that shop. Imagine reading them all the while knowing where they’ve been? That’s if you could prise the pages apart. Yew!

A bit of a bell-end …

In the UK, we have a term for people who are stupid. In fact, we have many terms: Stupid, prat, twat, nob-head, and so on. All of these could be applicable to many folk I’ve known but there is also another one we use, namely – bell end. A bell end refers, of course, to the end of a man’s private parts and to call one a bell-end, is to say he is a cock, or a dick or even a prick.

Therefore, imagine my juvenile humour at seeing this street sign in Rowley Regis.

You couldn’t make it up. Just think if some guy from Bell End ever writes into the paper and they put the location next to his name.

John Smith – Bell End.

He’d never live it down.

Frosty the Snowman, was a creepy horrible soul.

This was a window display in the local Merry Hill (locally known as Merry Hell) Shopping Centre a few years back. I don’t know what the thought behind the snowman was and if it actually frightened the kids, but it sure scared the hell out of me.

The Full Monty?

Also in the Merry Hell Shopping Centre, around the same time were these fellas.

Not sure what it was they were advertising. The Emperor’s new clothes, maybe? Note the second from the right appears to be scratching his arse.

Now I know what you’re going to say, the staff were probably just dressing them. No. I remember it well. I saw them one day and the next visit, a week later, they were still the same. Perhaps as it was closing down, all the clothes had gone?

A chest of drawers … anybody.

This one is for a good friend of mine, John who originally brought it to my attention. A chest of drawers, obviously is a piece of furniture. However, this shop didn’t quite get the message right.

Chester Draws. Classic.

Gadgets you cannot live without # 1

The effective 2-way shoe stretcher. Ideal for stretching those shoes you buy that don’t fit.

Arrrgghh! Don’t buy the bloody wrong sized shoes, then.

And still on the subject of shoes …

And it’s back to Merry Hell Shopping Centre and another silly window display. This one tells us if you buy two slippers, you get the third free.

Hmmm … Haven’t actually seen many three-legged folk stumbling around recently. Are you going to tell them or shall I? Rolf Harris was only joking when he sung about Jake the Peg.

An effective method of contraception.

I don’t think this one needs any explanation, but it really was on a sign at a UK hospital.

100% safety rate … You reckon?

And while we’re on the subject …

I really can’t recall in what context I posted this picture of N-Dubz, but I can only assume it was as yet another warning for birth control.

Does the editor need an eye test.

I love this one. I think it was the Halesowen News that ran the story of poor old Robert Hadley and the burglary that took place at his home in which his grandfather’s medals were taken. You’d really think the copy editor would take more care of the sizing of pictures on the front page of the newspaper though. Wouldn’t you?

Sore loser?

When John Isner beat Nicolas Mahut, I believe it set a record for the longest tennis game in history. All’s fair in sport but the look on Mahut’s face after losing, is priceless.

Sign of the times?

This was inexplicably on a door at the Shakespeare Library Theatre a few years back.

How can you lock it if there isn’t a key?

And similarly …

This was at Park Hall Community Centre in the room where my writing group took place.

Why bother sticking a notice on the thing to say it’s broken. Just remove the bloody chair!

Quite possibly the worst advert … ever!

When Formula One supremo, Bernie Ecclestone was mugged and had his Hublot watch stolen, Hublot thought it a good move to show Bernie’s injuries to promote the fact on the basis that people will do anything to grab a Hublot.

Had the opposite effect on me. You see, I’d never buy a Hublot watch now. Not if wearing one meant I got mugged.

After the worst advert, the very worst tribute.

In the back yard of some pub in Halesowen. The tackiest tribute to Michael Jackson, ever seen.

And yet again, in Merry Hell once more …

This was also a few years back. You see, Merry Hell is not as big as some of the UKs major shopping centres. With that in mind, the best one shop could offer was for you to have your picture taken with a David Beckham … lookalike.

Great. Queue for hours to have a photo standing alongside a guy who isn’t David Beckham.

Gadgets you cannot live without # 2

A cat sleeping bag?

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, cat owners. As if …

What a load of bollards.

These bollards in the shape of children, were erected a few years back in Leicester to stop motorists driving on the pavements.

I don’t know about you, but if I’d seen one of these out the corner of my eye, I’d have left the driver seat, hit the roof of the car, swerved the vehicle and probably crashed into a shop.

And that could happen …

And finally Esther … I am indebted to some newspaper or other, for alerting me to this which I then blatantly stole and posted on a roast.

Say no more.

Cheers

Nick

Hip hip, hooray! Let’s all pay homage to the Royal Family.

To be honest, I’d prefer the TV Royle Family to rule the country instead of those out-of-touch idiots at Buckingham Palace. Mind you, perhaps I’m wrong in calling them out of touch. As far as I can see, they’ve never actually been in-touch.

Yes, there they are in days of old but even though most things in life change from time to time, you can be sure the British Royal Family will always remain as far away from the common subject as Andy Murray is of winning a grand slam title.

Go on … Cue for the curly haired twit to win one now, just to shut me up.

I don’t hate the Royal Family. I simply think they’re outdated with no place in modern society. Yes, I know. Some will say that they bring in loads of tourism. Wrong. The tradition and history does that. There is a morbid fascination in the dark history of royal tyranny and long may that continue, if it helps the economy. However, why do we need this lot, apart from their entertainment value? I’ll give you some examples of the ugly side.

Let’s all toast the Queen.

Yes, for sixty years, the Queen has tried to come across as the kindly monarch, always at one with her people. That was until she was totally exposed by her lack of compassion over the death of Diana in 1997. Through gritted teeth and after many days of defiance, she finally gave in and accepted that the population actually liked the former Princess more than they did the rest of the monarchy put together.

This is the monarch, who a couple of years ago, asked for a poverty grant to help with the soaring costs of heating Buckingham Palace. These benefits are meant for low-income families, people on a pension, not for those who already get about £200million in state handouts and revenue from property they claim to own, but is in fact, belonging to the people of Great Britain.

Fortunately, when the Queen applied to get a 2% slice of the entire UK’s poverty grant fund, ministers told her to do one as it is for those in genuine need.

I have this message for the Queen. If you want to reduce your crippling fuel bills – live in a fucking smaller house!

You may have your face on billions of notes, but it doesn’t give you the right to spend as much as you want.

And don’t start me on Phillip …

Okay, you started me. Phillip, the Duke of Hazard, is known to have, shall we say, a history of saying the wrong thing. It may be amusing, yes, but what it also shows is complete ignorance and bigotry on no higher scale.

Take for example, his comments …

To Australian Aborigines in 2002. “Still throwing spears then?”

To a Kenyan woman in 1984. “You are a woman aren’t you?”

To a Briton in Hungary in 1993. “You can’t have been here long, you haven’t got a pot belly.”

To a Cayman Islander in 1994. “Aren’t all of you descended from pirates?”

Commenting on an old fuse box in 2000. “It looks like it was put together by an Indian.”

To an Indian, Mr Patel during a reception at the Palace in 2009. “There’s a lot of your family in tonight.”

To a student who hiked to Papua New Guinea in 1998. “You managed not to get eaten then?”

To a group of deaf children standing near a Jamaican steel band in 1999. “Deaf? If you stand near there, it’s no wonder you’re deaf.”

And the best of all, to a group of British students in China in 1986. “If you stay here much longer, you’ll all be slitty-eyed.”

Nice one Phil, but it’s not just other countries he has it in for. Speaking in 2009 to a boy who said he wanted to be an astronaut, the Duke replied, “You’ll never fly in a rocket, you’re too fat.”

He really shouldn’t be let out in public. The Duke was also famous for being an early chief of the World Wildlife Fund, preaching to the masses about the preservation of species, while on his weekends, going out and shooting them.

Idiot!

Then we have old Charlie-Boy …

His main gaffe was denying a sexual act between himself and a servant, took place. This denial was made without either he or the press, saying exactly what he was accused of. He hadn’t been asked. I do feel sorry for him though, seeing as everybody hates him but at least in his old age, he has finally found a decent horse to ride.

Annie ….

There she is, wearing a pizza base on her head.

The miserable po-faced Princess, who thinks it’s okay to let her dogs bite irritating children, also upset pensioner, Mary Halfpenny on Christmas Day 2000. The 75-year-old spent hours making a flower arrangement to pass onto the Princess Royal only to be scowled at. ‘What a ridiculous thing to do,’ spat the Princess.

Cow!

Rock Steady Eddie?

I have only one thing of note to say about the Earl of Wessex …

Wasn’t he a knockout?

The grand old Duke of York.

Some say he’s an ambassador bringing about loads of business in his role as trade representative. Others may claim he’s an arrogant twat who wastes taxpayers money jetting around the the globe on a world tour of golf courses.

But, isn’t she a diamond?

The Jubilee is all well and good if you think the royals are worth it. What you have to remember is, they are only where they are today as a result of hundreds of years tradition based on foundations of oppression and tyranny. Okay, this lot have as much power as lawnmower trying to win a Formula One Grand Prix, but still thereon their thrones, they bloody well sit.

I’d have more respect for them if they didn’t have a near-recent history of shutting away relatives with disabilities in institutions, then pretending they don’t exist to the point of declaring them dead. All this atrocious behaviour is made worse by the fact that many past members of the Royal Family have been patrons of Mencap. Therefore, instead of spending millions because the Queen fancies a new crown, how about putting a bit more into disability services and give those who struggle through life’s adversity a bit more to boost self-esteem … or are we supposed to follow the royal example, and pretend they don’t exist.

That wraps up the old royals, but what of the next generation; surely they have style?

Okay. Maybe not. But there must be something to look forward to? Some ray of hope for the future of the monarchy. One that means democracy and good taste is the way forward

Hmmm. Maybe the French were right when they revolted. I’ll leave the last word, I think, to the real King in waiting.

Cheers

 

Nick

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