A curse on Ye …
I have often wondered if there is somebody, somewhere, sticking pins in an Antony N Britt doll.
You see, things … happen to me. If there is bad service to be had, I will get it. If something can go wrong, it will go wrong, as four years worth of Sunday Roasts will testify. However, it is not just confined to myself. I recall a number of years back, an incident with my brother. He hadn’t been on a train for nearly twenty years whereas I’d been delayed by them daily during that time (Yes, mine were always late or cancelled). My brother had to go on a course in London, so he broke his absence of train rides one morning but got no further that the edge of town when he had to leave the train as a tree fell on it. I remember it now. It was on the local news and you could see him with many others, trudging along the line with his suitcase in hand. So it’s not just me and maybe, it is the Britt name which is cursed. This was reaffirmed this week when my eldest son was involved in a very near miss.
He was inside a bus stop, obviously waiting for one when the screech of tyres and crashing of metal alerted him to the motor vehicle sailing through the air like a scene from Final Destination.
Thankfully, he moved quick and was only trapped by his foot as the car landed upside down, demolishing the bus shelter he was in.
Above is a picture blatantly swiped from the Facebook page of Birmingham Updates. However, thanks to Perry Barr Fire Service for getting him out and for the good treatment he received from all the emergency services at the scene.
Not so, Sandwell Hospital. Chris was taken there, waited hours and after an X-Ray, was sent packing without any kind of dressings or a walking aid to support him. Days later, he’s still in pain and couldn’t put any weight on the foot. Remind me never to have an accident requiring treatment while in Sandwell.
He’s recovering. A real lucky escape but I am sorry to say, Chris, welcome to the world of being a Britt. Be prepared for things like this. Always add extra time to your journeys, carry a first aid kit and make sure you have a backup meal at home for the inevitable when the restaurant you go to serves up a pile of manure. Plus, wear a hard hat for the next time you encounter a low-flying car while trying to catch a bus.
God, help us.
Apparently, Michael Jackson was trying to get in touch with the afterlife when he took the jabs which killed him.
Success rate of 100%, then, don’t you think?
Does fame turn everybody into idiots?
And he was not alone …
Former Eastender star and one time drug addict, Danniella Westbrook has claimed she once spoke to God while under the influence of cocaine. The experience strengthened her faith and she talked about it on the religion propaganda show, Songs of Praise.
Okay, Danniella, who else did you speak to while off your head? Elvis, Mother Teresa … or did you go the whole hog and see Lord Nelson fighting the Loch Ness Monster in your garden pond?
Talking of Nelson …
A memo sent by Admiral Nelson on the eve of the Battle of Trafalgar is expected to fetch a few thousand. In the note, Nelson speaks of all things, about a worry over onions.
Hmmm … He’d have been better to have spent more time worrying about the skills of a French marksmen on the Redoubtable.
Faux-pas of the week.
Having been told they were getting a talk on piracy, members of the Parkham branch of the Women’s Institute dressed themselves up as swashbucklers to make a joke of the situation. However, faces turned as red as their bandanas when the speaker turned out to be Captain Colin Darch who was present to speak about his kidnap by Somalian Sea Bandits.
Can’t help laughing. He’s there recounting his ordeal of imprisonment and torture, and the women are all dressed like Captain Pugwash.
Have a good week, all.
Hope to see you again, and be careful, especially if you are waiting for a bus.
Cheers.
Nick
Antony N Britt - Author 