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The Sunday Roast – The Olympics Arrive at the 22A Bus Stop.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 4 Comments
July 1, 2012

Holding a torch

After much deliberation, I thought I’d go and watch the Olympic Torch journey through my little town. Actually, I didn’t go into Walsall as the convoy passed very near to my son’s school fete and I thought, if I’m parked up – why not? Therefore, ignoring all the crowds and celebrations laid on in the town centre, I made camp along the A34 near the corner of Irvine Road by the 22A bus stop.

Uplifting experience? Yes, you guessed it. This miserable bastard was totally underwhelmed. It’s not my fault. I’m not even remotely interested in the Olympics. As I’ve said before, too many small organisations lost funding because of it and had to fold.

New game – Kick five balls through all five rings and you get to keep the Tower of London.

After waiting an inconvenient five minutes, I heard cheering and thought, Hey, here it comes. No. That was the preamble, namely the obligatory and blatant advertising as buses drove by promoting gut-rotting cola and some company that makes Galaxy phones. Ha … No free advertising here.

Well, the commercial break came and went, carrying it’s smiling teen cheerleaders further down the road and then another five minutes, we had the main spectacular event.

Now when I say spectacular, what I cannot put into this transcript is the immense layers of sarcasm. You see, immediately prior to the passing of the torch, the ecstatic hordes waiting, were not so much lining the road, as encroaching. Still, in the distance, I saw loads of blue flashing lights. The police would sort it – wouldn’t they? However, the solution was not one of controlled health and safety, but an old guy on a pushbike telling everybody to get back on the pavement.

Still, the torch arrived, and I even saw a handover. As it disappeared into the distance, I then heard further clapping as running behind in convoy, were about thirty police officers on foot, joining in the parade. People cheered. Some even jeered, but my main thought was, wouldn’t it have been better for them lot to run in front and move the spilling crowds back and not leave it to some old guy on a bike?

I’m never happy, am I? Seriously, though. Well done to all the officials involved and the people of Walsall for making this a success.

Football’s coming home?

Well, the English team are, yet again – predictably.

Yes, we have the usual hopes, the usual result, and the usual awful penalty misses. Actually, people are slamming England’s poor performance against Italy but they’ve forgotten one thing. Italy were bloody brilliant.

Still, what do the English people expect? Millions of fans glory hunt and share their support between five or six clubs. These clubs, bankrolled by billionaires, are filled with foreign players at the expense of home grown talent so our lads never get a look in. The supporters show passionate loyalty from the comfort of their armchairs and cheer on the same guys who are knocking our national team out of major tournaments on a regular basis. The English vilify our own players yet come September, when the new season starts, they’ll be wetting themselves when the top Euro stars start kicking a ball again on our own turf.

Still, you have to feel sorry for the England lads. It was hard. I mean … kicking a large ball twelve yards into a huge fucking net with only one man in the way. It’s near impossible.

Above we see serial diver, Ashley Young, guilty party for the first miss. Mind you, better than James Milner. He spent the entire tournament crossing the ball to an the invisible man at the other side of the field. A player only he could see.

Anyone for tennis, then?

Andy Murray, apparently plans to spend as much time away from Wimbledon this year in a cunning plan to win the tournament. Funny, I thought that was the usual tactic of us Brits at Wimbledon. We always spend loads of time away from the place. Namely when we’re knocked out in the first week.

Apparently, Murray thinks keeping his distance will make him relax and remove the pressure. No, Andy. The pressure will be off until, as usual, like Tim Henman and Greg Rusedski before you, you get within a shot of actually making the final then bloody bottle it at the last minute when it matters.

There. Gauntlet thrown. Now go and bloody prove me wrong.

What’s that coming over hill, is it a monster?

This has to be the most bizarre and ludicrous thing I have heard in many a year. Children in schools in Louisiana are being taught that God really does exist as dinosaurs still walk the earth. Their proof – The Loch Ness Monster.

Yes, creationist lunatics are getting away with brainwashing folk’s poor unsuspecting offspring by saying Nessie, the massive hoax that Scotland’s tourist industry has lived off for 80 years, is real.

Arrrgghhh! I’ve seen it all now. A mythical creature of fantasy being used to prove another creature of pure fantasy (God) exists.

Teaching kids bullshit like that … It’s not education, it’s child abuse.

What about a winning formula?

Apparently, Formula One chiefs are proposing to stage a Grand Prix through Central London. If plans go ahead, you could soon see Lewis Hamilton, Jensen Button and the rest, all racing through the capital. We are told, roads would be closed, obviously. However, why obviously? Since the advent of congestion charging, nobody can afford to drive through Central London, anyway. You wouldn’t need to close the roads; there’s nothing on them.

That’s about the only mode of transport you see traveling freely through Central London, these days who don’t have to pay congestion charges. Ask them to, and they exterminate you.

Thieves and Looters.

If I cost my company, millions, I’d expect the sack but the likes of Bob Diamond, head of fraudulent bank, Barclays, is adamant he is staying put. I know where I’d like to put him and his ilk of short-selling speculating greedy bastards – on a deserted island. That is after we’d seized back their cars, houses, money and all other ill-gotten gains.

Save our ears.

Apparently, The Voice live tour has been canceled due to lack of interest. The Voice, is yet another banal karaoke style TV talent show, full of generic wannabees singing other peoples songs. They were due to go on tour but poor ticket sales meant the shows had to be called off. Great. Now can we get rid of the TV show too?

Singer Jessie J says scrapping the tour will mean the acts can now “spread their wings” and find their own direction. Yes, Jessie. Straight to oblivion. Actually, I don’t know about finding their own direction … what about finding One Direction. The boy band from The Voice’s rival ITV show, X-Factor, seem to be doing rather well. They could give this lot from The Voice some tips.

But back to that torch …

Well, not the torch, but the day. Boy, was it tiring. That flame event, the fete, shopping in town (twice). No wonder I was knackered. Sitting writing this … do you think it’s safe to say you’ve had a long day when you then spend five minutes trying to locate the source of the steady drip, drip, drip noise you can hear, only to find out after looking, it was just the sound of your own watch ticking?

Cheers.

Nick

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The Sunday Roast – Dodgy Refereeing, DLT and a Dunce Called Duncan Smith

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 4 Comments
June 24, 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

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Non-Fiction Competition Win

Filed under: Autism, News — 8 Comments
June 18, 2012

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

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The Sunday Roast – Takes to the Road

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June 17, 2012

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

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New Poem Published and appearance at the Coventry Mysteries Festival

Filed under: News — 2 Comments
June 13, 2012

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

 

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The Sunday Roast – Crappy Myspace, Porn Mags and Life’s Mistakes.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 2 Comments
June 10, 2012

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

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The Sunday Roast – Jubilee. Let’s Toast The Royal Family … Literally.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 12 Comments
June 3, 2012

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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The Sunday Roast – Cheryl Cole, Cricket and a Cock with a Torch.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 4 Comments
May 27, 2012

Let’s talk about cricket.

No … not that type of cricket. I meant the sport.

Yay! It’s the cricket season and with England currently number one team in the world, I shall take this opportunity to have a rare boast about it.

I know you lot overseas in America and beyond do not understand what cricket is all about. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Most people in the UK haven’t a clue, either.

Picture the conversation I had some years back when queried as to why a test match of cricket, lasted more than an hour or so.

‘But, why do they play for so long?’

‘It’s just the amount of time needed to come to a successful conclusion,’ I answered. ‘You know, best team over a five-day period.’

‘Five … days?’

‘Er, yes.’

‘But how can they play for so long each day?’

‘They go in for lunch and tea.’ I replied, then put hands across my ears to drown out the laughing. I was then asked to explain the rules. Easy.

Cricket, is a straightforward game played by two teams on a field. One team – out, the other one – in. The team that’s out, tries to get the team that’s in … out. When a player of the team who’s in, gets out, then another player comes in. This happens until all of the team who are in – are out. Then the team that was out, goes in and the team that was in, go out and tries to get the team in … out again. This goes on until both sets of players have been in and out twice, including those, not out. Simple really.

You have bowlers who can spin their balls all day long while others prefer to pound them with speed. Some will turn their googlies while slip fielders stand with open legs waiting for the batsmen to give the bowler’s balls a little tickle. There is also a variation on this unorthodox delivery which goes by the name of bowling a Chinaman.

Nooooo! That’s not what I meant. It’s just a phrase which came about due to the ethnicity of the bowler who first used the method. Sorry about that. Anyway, there are boundaries however in cricket, but one must not overstep them while touching the balls. Bowlers can rub and polish their balls, but are not allowed to scratch them to excess or they will face the wrath of an umpire.

The batsmen can use all sorts of stroke play to despatch their balls. This includes hooking them, cutting them past a fine leg or even sending them through the covers. These covers, are in fact, a fielding position and not the covers that are placed on the pitch overnight. You couldn’t have them on the field while play was underway because that would just be silly.

And talking of silly … Silly mid-off and silly mid-on, are in fact fielding positions and not a reference to the assorted headgear worn by the players.

And on the subject of gear, players are advised to wear protection in the form of helmets, pads and a box to protect the nether regions, just in case a delivery gets though and the batsmen get a little bit more than a slight tickle.

Ouch! I felt that.

And this week’s search terms …

Yes. It’s an ongoing theme – the weird things some people are searching for on Google, then ending up with me. Still the most popular is Jeremy Kyle Teeth followed by that bloody film that I wont even mention. You know, the one about some ship sinking. Well it stops … here! No more.

However, in looking at my stats, I found what has to be the number one now in terms of the oddest search used which resulted in somebody getting to me. It was this … روز فى فيلم تايتنك

???

Okay … Strange, and now I was curious. I mean, what could this possibly be in order to lead some folk to me? So … Cut and paste the phrase, do an image search. Let’s see what we’ve got.

Arrrgghh!

Anchorman II?

Dear God! As if the first one wasn’t bad enough, they’ve only gone and made a sequel.

Anchorman was one of the few films this particular OCD guy was not able to see through to the bitter end. My obsessiveness usually means I have to grit my teeth and plod on, no matter how bad. However, even I gave up on the first film. Badly written bilge, with not one funny line.

The legend continues? Not in this household.

Fashion Disaster Alert!

Karaoke singer, Cheryl Cole tried to take centre stage at the Cannes Film festival this week by wearing a dress that matched the red carpet, perfectly.

Yes, very clever, but do you realise it looks as if you are wearing a huge red foot? Also, even though the paparazzi were ejaculating themselves to death at the outfit, you’d look bloody stupid wearing it on a cricket pitch or anything else that’s not red.

Talking of Karaoke singers …

Nob, Will.i.am, invited criticism this week for carrying the Olympic torch all the while, tweeting away to the social networking site.

As ever, full of his own importance, the star tapped away at how excited he was, but failed to notice he’d misspelled the name of the the town, Taunton, he was running through. Silly Billy has also confessed that despite being a superstar in the music business, he can’t actually sing.

Nooooo! Next you’ll be telling me Robert Mugabe is a murderer.

Still. I suppose he’s just a normal guy at the end of the day, caught up in all the passion of the event. An every day Joe. I mean – Will.i.am? Nothing at all pretentious about calling yourself that.

The truce is over.

Last week, I promised my local Walsall Council to leave them alone after they re-tweeted something for me. I said a week, or until they did something stupid. Well, it’s been about twelve days, so they did well in the end.

I read, yesterday, work on the playground lido pool at the local arboretum has been delayed, despite the work being announced last year. It now won’t be ready until the end of August. Does this mean it is going to be a building site all through summer?

I took that photo today and as you can see in this heatwave, it would be really good to have the water pool for the kids to use. As it happens, it is empty but never mind, come September as the summer is over, the council promise it will be rebuilt and working. Not only that, another couple of months later, you’ll be able to ice-skate on it.

Walsall Council … You have excelled yourselves this time.

It’s blooming hot out there.

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to pour myself a glass of juice and settle down to watch the cricket. See you in a week. Literally if I’m watching cricket.

Cheers

Nick

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An Afternoon of Crime Writing – Mark Billingham & Val McDermid (20 May 2012)

Filed under: Reviews, Writing Stuff — 2 Comments
May 25, 2012

Walsall Library was the setting for two hours of entertainment last Sunday by top crime writers, Mark Billingham and Val McDermid. Both authors were on hand to give an interesting insight into the world of crime writing, explaining the processes involved and taking on questions from the audience.

Mark Billingham is the author of ten Tom Thorne novels plus one stand-alone with a further – Rush of Blood, due later this year. I have read Mark for a while, ever since a near-miss encounter at Hay-on Wye inspired me to write a short story – Stalking Hugo McIntyre. Hugo is about a fan hunting down his writing hero and was my first real success. Coincidentally, I received news of its publication the day I finally got to meet Mark in person in Birmingham 2010. I am happy to say that the character stalking Hugo, is not based on myself, so Mark is safe – and it wasn’t me mowing his lawn in the middle of the night, either.

Val McDermid is the author of the Lindsay Gordon, Kate Brannigan and Tony Hills series, the latter famously made into TV series, Wire in the Blood. She has also written numerous stand-alone novels and like Mark Billingham, Val’s books sit at the front of the shelf in terms of popularity in the world of crime fiction.

I have to admit to not reading any Val McDermid to date, but it is something I had been long keen to redress, even before this opportunity to see two of the UK’s top crime authors, came about. One signed copy later, I can now experience the world of psychologist, Tony Hills and if Val’s written words are as good as the ones she speaks, I know I will not be disappointed.

Talking to a packed room at Walsall Library, both authors told of the evolution of crime writing; how it has changed from the day of Agatha Christie and Dorothy L Sayers who would see a butler’s daughter murdered, then have the same butler serving drinks ten minutes later. It’s all about realism and the reader needs to be able to connect with the characters on the page, even minor ones. Characters evolve too. They change with each new experience and that reflects life. Who among us has the exact same circle of friends, the same routine, even the same jobs we had five years ago?

It was interesting to note I am not alone in the despair at the gulf between the accessible writer and the literary elite. In particular, the snobbery of that elite who appear determined to keep writing a minority as opposed to Billingham and McDermid, both keen to appeal to any reader in the land and beyond. There is an honesty about these two authors which is perhaps why they are so popular, as well as writing damn good fiction, that is.

The event was well organised and relaxed with friendly staff asking if you had enjoyed the experience. I had and there was also plenty of time to get my books signed by both Mark and Val, plus the obligatory photos (I have no shame).

An hour’s talk flew by and Mark and Val had to be cut short to allow questions and signings, otherwise I think we could have gone on all day.

If ever either appear in a town near you, I recommend you check them out. Well worth any time spent.

Cheers.

 

Nick

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Return to the Forbidden Planet – Aldridge Musical Comedy Society (May 18 2012)

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May 24, 2012

Great Wyrley Performing Arts School was the setting last week for a rock and roll trip into outer space and journey to the planet D’Illyria. Return to the Forbidden Planet is a show I had never seen, therefore something I was keen to redress. Performed by the Aldridge Musical Comedy Society (AMCS), Forbidden Planet was the latest in a long line of quality productions put out by the society since their formation, 45 years ago.

Written by Bob Carlton, Forbidden Planet is based on the 1950s film of the same name which in turn, took its origins from Shakespeare’s – The Tempest. Set in the far future, Return to the Forbidden Planet delivers the obligatory mad scientist Dr Prospero, his daughter Miranda, a rollerskating robot, a lovestruck ship’s cook, the authoritative Captain Tempest, science officer Gloria and the rest of the crew. Interspersed between scenes, we also had a strange old woman thrown into the mix, to help narrate the plot along with much amusement.

Good humour, great acting and excellent delivery of numerous rock and roll numbers gave the perfect mix for this show. My only criticism would be that of the original script itself which was, to be honest, slightly disappointing given I had waited many years to finally see it performed. The beginning is very low key and doesn’t really get going until a good ten minutes in with Great Balls of Fire. It could really have done with a more kick-ass start but thankfully, the quality showed by AMCS, soon got the starship’s engines moving.

In addition to Great Balls of Fire, you had Young Girl, Good Vibrations and even Monster Mash, all of them keeping the rock juices pumping.

The acting was great. Singing – superb. A special word should also go to the band members of the orchestra without who, these brilliant numbers would not have had the impact they did. Good scenery too.

As I said, I was a little underwhelmed by the actual script as it has supposedly been a popular, top show for many years. Quite frankly, having seen AMCS a number of times before, I am more impressed by many of their own in-house, home-grown scripts like those used in the end of year pantomime.

Would I go to see Return to the Forbidden Planet again elsewhere? Probably not. Any future production by AMCS? Definitely.

AMCS return to Great Wyrley in late 2012 with original pantomime: Dick Whittington and the Pirate King. Put it in your diary. Not to be missed. Watch this space for details.

Note of Irony: Doctor Prospero’s futuristic formula – X-Factor, is a potion which can enhance the brain and mind. Stark contrast to the television X-Factor of the modern day, which dulls it.

Cheers.

Nick

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