Tag Archive: Antony N Britt


Dick Whittington and the Pirate King – Aldridge Musical Comedy Society (November 16 2012)

Filed under: Reviews — Leave a comment
November 30, 2012

Being a regular attendee at productions staged by Aldridge Musical Comedy Society for some years, I had no reservations in recommending and subsequently, going to see their latest pantomime offering. Staged at Great Wyrley High School, Dick Whittington and the Pirate King is the sequel to the 2010 award-winning Dick Whittington, written and produced by long-time member, Mark Nicholls.

From the moment the music began and the pirates emerged from the rear of the auditorium while engaged in a sword fight, you were taken on a roller-coaster ride of superb acting, great song and wonderfully choreographed dance. An excellent well written script had time fly at some speed. Not only that, it was very funny. Pirates, a wheelchair bound voodoo lady, sea siren and a dancing cat. There was even an acrobatic monkey in amongst the usual suspects to be found in the universe Dick Whittington.

As a rock music lover, I admit to never having heard the song, Moves Like Jagger, before. However, I was thoroughly impressed, particularly by the camp geekiness of Joe Fisher playing James Swan during the number. He reminded me of a Matt Smith Doctor Who. Cool to be nerdy – right. And if I did crave a bit of the harder stuff, that was present with a brilliant rendition of Seven Seas of Rhye by Pirate King, Chris Parry and the full company. You can’t beat a bit of Queen.

The other song which springs to mind was the Alice and Angelica Marley duet, Defying Gravity, performed respectively by Nikki Watts and Hattie Sketchley-Bates. Oh, I do hate reviewing, it’s hard for the author not to mention everybody but as one of the songs stated, You Would If You Could. Take my word, they were all great, as was the music provided by the orchestra.

The Scooby Doo style chase had me in stitches during a rendition of Help, and I just remembered, the glove puppets who provided backing vocals on Xanadu. Surreal, or what?

Pirate King is the second in a proposed trilogy. Hopefully, like 2010, this panto outing will gain awards as was the case then. Roll on the next installment and the final chapter for Dick and the merry gang. To be continued …

There was one thing. I didn’t think I’d be joining in with audience participation thus having to encourage my kids to perform the Funky Gibbon. It was an effort where I failed miserably. Where’s the spirit of joining in with young folk these days?

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , ,
Comment

Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls – Wolverhampton Civic Hall (23 November 2012)

Filed under: Reviews — Leave a comment
November 29, 2012

It’s a sign of a good concert when you find yourself still on a high nearly a week after the event, and that was the case with my trip to see Frank Turner at Wolverhampton Civic Hall. Backed by the excellent Sleeping Souls, Frank treated his Midland audience to a wide range numbers spanning an incredible four studio albums (plus two rarity compilations) in six years, with a fifth due next year. And when he is not laying tracks, Frank takes to The Road, as the title of the 2009 song suggests.

Frank Turner - The Road

Wessex Boy, Reasons Not to Be an Idiot and If Ever I Stray, I just find them so uplifting. Even the ones about death, as in the case of Long Live the Queen, you just want to sing along. The only downside you will experience at a Frank Turner concert is that there are so many excellent songs in his repertoire, you can’t expect to hear all of them in a ninety minute set. Three times now, Frank, and I’ve not heard my personal favourite – Father’s Day. Guess I’ll just have to hope I strike lucky next time you’re in town.

The local crowd played their part too in adding to the atmosphere and I believe at the time, Wolverhampton were heading the table in Frank’s impromptu dance contest for venues while playing Four Simple Words. Audience participation also means you got backing vocals from a few thousand fans at the gig thus anybody sitting in the vicinity of seat C73 – I apologise.

Having said that, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to dance. How could I not? Brilliant poetic lyrics and great tunes. Six days later and I’m still buzzing. Far the best concert I’ve seen this year and I don’t care if my thirteen-year-old sitting in the next seat kept giving me funny looks as I lost the plot.

Apologies for the quality of the photo, but has anybody ever taken a good one from the back of an auditorium?

“I won’t sit down, and I won’t shut up. And most of all, I will not grow up.”

Photosynthesis – Frank Turner.

Cheers

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Comment

The Sunday Roast – Sanity … Or Lack of It.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 6 Comments
November 25, 2012

In the name of sanity …

You may remember me talking about Christmas the other week and how we seem to start shopping in October. Well, I was driving home the other evening in the pouring rain, slowed down for a second, and saw it.

Duh, duh, duuuuuurrrr!

I know it’s blurry, but you can just about make it out through a rainy windscreen – the horror. Yes, it wasn’t even late November at the time and some idiot had their Christmas decorations up.

I don’t know why some folk bother to take them down in the first place, they seem to be back up again before you know. I mentioned sanity in the title to this piece but with Christmas, sanity goes out of the window. Why do folk go overboard, spend thousands they can’t afford, all for some superstitious nonsense? Let’s face it, Chico Marx was right.

“There ain’t no Sanity Claus.”

A disturbing revelation.

The other week, I posted a piece about the dentist and to illustrate, used a still from the old Aquafresh advert with the smiling cartoon family. Well, thanks to my good friend, Mr Rich Wiltshir, I have been traumatised since by the image in my mind after an observation he made.

He said, “Am I the first to think the couple in your toothpaste add look like siblings?”

Arrrgghhh! I never thought of it before, but he’s right. The Aquafresh family are brother and sister and the cute Aquafresh child is a result of an incestuous relationship. Either that or Rich and I have far too much time on our hands.

It can’t be true. If they were inbred, they’d have bad teeth, not sparkling ones and they’d be on the Jeremy Kyle Show. As far as I can see, this family are off to Florida.

Bit of a Rolling ripoff …

I like the Rolling Stones. As I said the other week when commenting on a piece, I have some of their albums. However, I keep reading of fans complaining that their big 50th anniversary show in London was being ticketed at over £100 for the cheapest seats to nearly four times that for better ones.

An absolute ripoff. They should be ashamed. It’s not like they need the money. A decent tariff would have rewarded fans.

On another note, I see Bill Wyman has been drafted in to make a reunion appearance. I see everybody has conveniently forgotten he used to be a pedophile.

Yes, I know she was 18 when they married, but she states he’d been shagging her since she was 13. If it happened today, he’d subsequently be shagging a beefy skinhead called, Boris – in prison.

Strange things in a strange town.

Went to a great concert the other night in Wolverhampton by one of my favourites at the minute – Frank Turner. I took Matthew, my 13-year-old and it was on the way back to the car in Wolverhampton Town Centre, he pointed something out to me.

‘Look at that chair on its own.’

In Wolverhampton, seating is provided for shoppers. Most look like this …

However, the one my son pointed out was single and lonely, as is shown below.

I though it rather funny. But why install a single chair? The only thing I can think of is the politically correct brigade in Wolverhampton want to cater for all people so they have several solitary seats for those who have no mates.

Bureaucratic madness.

I read the other day that over 5000 under-aged offenders have received driving bans which have been imposed even though they are not legally old enough to drive. Five kids have had this ban even though they are only 11.

What the hell is the point of that? Yes, fine them and do everything the system allows within the range of common sense but why ban them from doing something they aren’t supposed to do anyway?

The circus comes to Stamford Bridge – again.

I see multimillionaire, Roman Abramovich wielded the axe again this week. Now when Roberto Di Matteo was sacked by West Bromwich Albion nearly two years ago, I thought it harsh. However, they were facing relegation and history shows the right decision was probably made, in hindsight. Still, Roberto went to Chelsea and became manager when the mad Russian sacked the last poor sod after half a season in charge. Robbie took the job, then went onto win the biggest prize in European football.

Not good enough for Abramovich. I mean, after a few games this season, Chelsea are only in 4th so Robbie had to go.

Bollocks. I feel for Chelsea fans … Actually, I don’t. They’ve had all this glory just because some billionaire wants to use them as his plaything. Still, what does Abramovic expect? A manager needs time. Far more than this twat gives them.

What a clown.

He has now installed former Liverpool manager, Rafa Benitez, in the hope he will lead Chelsea to the Premier League title. If past managers are anything to go by, Rafa shouldn’t worry about buying a house in SW6 just yet. Having a long stay in the Premier League? Rafa Benitez should expect a few weeks at a Premier Inn.

Don’t you know there’s a war on?

David Cameron has said that the battle for global prosperity is the same as the one we had when fighting Hitler.

Now there is a thing called Godwin’s Law. This is the idea that as soon as you bring Hitler and the Nazis into an argument, you immediately lose that argument.

Okay, not exactly the same but by using Hitler as a reference in this one, Cameron has proved one thing.

He is a pillock.

No – still not in the festive spirit.

And I won’t be for many weeks to come. I do celebrate Christmas, but as an atheist, I use it as a time to be nice to my family once a year. Other people take it to the extreme, as in the case of the November Christmas lights on that house at the top of this roast. Then you have all the stocking up in case the world ends because the shops shut for one day a year. And don’t get me started on cards. You have all the palaver of sending cards to people you see every day, but it doesn’t end there.

What was it I saw in the shop the other day? One with a greeting – Happy Christmas from the cat.

From the fucking cat????

Yes, sanity has more than gone out the window. It’s now stuck up the chimney with last year’s rotting remains of Father Christmas.

Cheers – and bah humbug!

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Comment

The Sunday Roast – Political Baloney and Other Rubbish

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 8 Comments
November 18, 2012

Things are a little to PCC, over here.

I hardly gave it any notice, I have to admit, but Thursday saw the UK taking part in elections. Who were we voting for? Apparently, police across the UK are now going to get elected chief commissioners to oversee budgets, police priorities and hiring and firing of senior staff.

Sorry … I may need to read that again. No, I wasn’t mistaken, but isn’t that job which the current chief and his half-a-dozen assistants, already employed on around half a million quid a year, are supposed to do?

I find it obscene that in a climate where good, hard working officers are being forced out of their jobs and thousands of civilian workers also face redundancy, this government sees fit to splash out further millions on yet another figurehead for the ivory towers at Police Central.

Take my area in the midlands. Do I want some political ponce who knows fuck all about policing at a cost of £100k a year, or four new recruits at the same price to keep me safe?

What the hell do you think?

Still harping on about the Olympics?

Can’t help it. I saw an advert this week for the official BBC DVD. As you know, I was pretty underwhelmed by the whole thing when it was on. I say well done to all the British who won but still stand by my thought that it was a terrible waste of money, especially as many charities and small arts organisations folded when their lottery funding was removed to pay for the Olympics.

Anyway, the BBC, as well as condoning pedophilia for forty years in the Jimmy Savile case, have now released the DVD of the 2012 games.

That’s it, but if you were hoping for 15 hours of sporting highlights, forget it. Here, you get 7, then another 7 of the ridiculous and irrelevant opening and closing ceremonies.

The BBC never know how to do sport, it’s why they’ve lost to the rights for most of them over the years. Take football. Match of the Day. You get ten minutes of highlights and without fail, two of those minutes are taken up with the commentators droning on as the players warm up and walk on and off the pitch.

I mean. Who wants to see a blooming good goal?

And here’s a blooming good goal.

The latter part of this week, all I have heard about in the media is the wonder goal by Zlatan Ibrahimovic for Sweden against England. Yes, it was a wonderful piece of improvised skill but to call it the best goal ever …? I’m not so sure.

Here we have it, just after calamity keeper, Joe Hart has raced out of his area and made a hash of a headed clearance. Ibrahimovic spins, then does an overhead kick with the ball looping into the empty net to score. As I say, great piece of skill but to me, the best goals occur when there are at least some players and always the goalkeeper, in the penalty area.

A load of junk.

I read the other day that nearly half of the mail delivered in the UK are flyers and leaflets. I can concur with that. My lobby is filled with them. I clear the lot out into the recycling, turn my back and before I know it, there’s bloody more on the floor.

Junk mail – people keep sending it to me. Either that or there is some new breed of genetically engineered beastie which keeps getting into my front porch and shitting paper everywhere.

Send them to the Tower.

I was reading the other day that somebody tried to break into the Tower of London. In true journalistic fashion, The Sun newspaper reported the fact, also telling the tale of Colonel Blood who tried the feat in 1671.

Is it a sign of a writer when all you do is spot grammatical errors? Now I’m still looking for a job and I reckon I could do one for the Sun as a proofreader. Shouldn’t there be a comma in the bottom sentence? Bafflingly isn’t a great word anyway but without a comma, it reads as though King Bafflingly gave the robber a pardon. I never knew we had a King called Bafflingly.

Am I being pedantic here?

No energy going that way.

I read this week that former MP and BBC trust chairman, Chris Patten, also receives a salary of £40k from EDF Energy for taking part in a few meetings a year.

Hmmmm … My money isn’t going EDF’s way in the near future, then.

And following on from pieces told in previous weeks …

I’ve spoken recently about the fact Richard III has been found and dug up. I have also spoken about the vile Jimmy Savile, and the subsequent hysteria which blames him for everything from child abuse to being the Yorkshire Ripper.

Well, scientists investigating the Richard III thingy planned to reconstruct the king’s face but scrapped the idea when a trial run of his likeness produced a possible clue as to his descendants.

Okay, I may have made that one up.

Just read this one.

Some textbook has been introduced to schools in India stating that eating meat makes you lie and commit sex crimes.

This load of bull states God didn’t include meat in his plans so why should we need to eat it?

I find it amazing that anybody can write whatever rubbish they like and claim it to be true. It’s no different over here. In schools in the UK, we have bullshit promoted to our young every day through an official and popular book. It’s called the Bible.

But back to our new police chief.

Bob Jones became the West Midlands new head-honcho the other day in an election which cost the nation £75million, nationally. Still, he can sort out the problems on his £100k salary and try to find out why policing isn’t working. The reason being, the other goons in charge, costing hundreds of thousands themselves, have got rid of a huge amount of experienced officers. When was the last time one of the nobs at Police HQ got the chop to save money?

Idiots.

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Comment

The Sunday Roast – Here is the News.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 10 Comments
November 11, 2012

Okay, let’s catch up a little with what’s been happening in the world.

These past few weeks, I’ve been going on about my own personal calamities so much I’ve neglected what’s currently happening in the news.

Apparently the other day, several billion people woke with the same horrific image in their heads.

Thankfully, Barack Obama won another term and the vision of Mitt Romney in the Whitehouse, was just a mass neurotic nightmare.

And talking of hysteria.

As I said last week, I’m pretty convinced as to some of the allegations concerning Jimmy Savile. However, each day in the paper, some new accusation is leveled against him. If you were to believe papers like The Sun and Daily Star, Jimmy Savile sexually abused every boy and girl under the age of sixteen in the UK for a thirty-year period. Yes, there is hard evidence but let the authorities sort it out – belatedly. All it seems now is these sleazy papers are digging for any sordid story they can with little fact behind them. It’s a pity they didn’t show such journalistic fervour when kids were getting abused all those years ago. The latest scummy headline can be seen here …

Savile was apparently suspected of being the Yorkshire Ripper. What next? I suppose he has Shergar buried alongside him, was also Hitler and Eva Braun’s love child and secretly lead a double life as Lord Lucan.

Come on, let’s just have the truth. Finally.

Cook a proper meal for once, Sir.

Zany TV chef, Heston Blumenthal admitted recently that he puts tampons in his mouth to cleanse his palate.

Could it simply be the case that Heston’s food tastes like body waste?

Whose having a pay-day?

When is our government going to step in and wipe out these legalised loan sharks who offer payday loans? You know the ones. 4,000%APR and up to your eyes in debt after borrowing £10 for a few days. I know each of us is responsible for managing our affairs but these crooks prey on the desperate. They will dish out cash to anybody who asks, regardless of ability to pay back.

Let’s take a look at one as I type.

Wonga …

There you have it. As I write this at 1431 on Saturday, I could have £400 in my bank within 20 minutes. However, one month from now I would be expected to pay the lot back and more with Wonga making £125.48 in 30 days for very little effort.

People – don’t do it. What happens if you cannot repay in time? Late fees, interest … You could end up owing thousands. Did you really need the money that much? Don’t put yourself into debt while making these greedy sharks even richer.

Wonga have now moved into the football market and are current sponsors of Newcastle United. The deal is worth £24million. Unfortunately, Newcastle have to repay £38million in thirty days time.

Only in Birmingham.

Birmingham City Council is having problems because their new £11million automated phone service does not understand Brummie (local accent for those of you who don’t know). The machines cannot recognise some words spoken in the dialect leaving thousands of callers frustrated. The irony is, the system speaks with a Newcastle Geordie accent. Huge own goal for Birmingham Council. But hang on, have you thought of it like this? Perhaps it isn’t the fact the machines cannot understand Brummie; maybe the callers cannot understand the Geordie accent and are therefore saying the wrong things in response.

Whatever happened to Tony Blair?

Saw this one tucked away in the far corner of a paper this week. Tony Blair (aka Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire) is trying to claim the Iraq economy is booming and military intervention got the country back on track.

Yes, you can hide behind that cheesy grin all you like. Iraq really looks like it’s back on track, what with its 100,000+ dead and the place blown to smithereens.

On yer bike!

My God, we know how to treat our heroes in the UK. Good old Bradley Wiggins – Tour de France winner and Olympic gold medalist. How do we repay him for bringing a bit of glory back to this beleaguered land? We go and run him over in a car.

Tattoo You.

No, I’m not talking about the Rolling Stones album of 1981 (In fact, the only Stones on vinyl I ever bought). The headline refers to HMV Music Stores and the news they have banned staff from having long hair and tattoos.

Come on, for years I thought having a tattoo was part of the job description in working for HMV. Now I’ve never been a great fan of body art. I leave that to guests on Jeremy Kyle.

Who … Me?

Yes, you. But as for those working in HMV – leave them alone. It’s what we expect when you walk in the shop. Let’s face it, it’s only rock and roll (and we like it).

Elm Disease?

A woman in Cardiff claims to have cured herself of Crohn’s disease by eating trees.

Yes, after chewing away at chippings, Marlene Barnes says she’s on the mend.

I’ve heard of alternative bullshitting medicine, but this is barking mad (sorry couldn’t resist). I feel like a sap now after that bad joke.

What does the future have in store?

So USA doesn’t have an idiot in charge of their country. I suppose the same could be said over here, even if I don’t agree with Tory policy. Still, it could be worse. What was that nightmare I had the other night, the one about our next PM?

Noooooooooooooooo!

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Comment

Another Competition Win / Stories Published.

Filed under: News — 4 Comments
November 5, 2012

I was delighted to receive an email to say I’d won the Darker Times Fiction, monthly competition for October. I entered two pieces and my story – The Original Mandlebury Ghost Hunt won first prize and the other, Table Decoration, was one of the runners-up.

Both will be in a soon to be released anthology and are available now online on the Darker Times Fiction website.

Darker Times Fiction is run by Jessica Grace Coleman, an author based in Staffordshire, England. It’s excellent. Go and check it out and enter the monthly competition, yourself.

Link to my winning entry – The Original Mandlebury Ghost Hunt.

Link to my runner up – Table Decoration.

Note … Table Decoration is of a very dark nature. Be warned.

Darker Times Fiction can be found at this link.

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , ,
Comment

The Sunday Roast – Christmas, Checkouts and a Cretinous MP

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 16 Comments
November 4, 2012

A worse horror than Halloween.

Last week I spoke much about Halloween, witches and the like. Well, that silly state of affairs is over now, but not so the horror in our supermarkets. You see, no sooner have the shelves emptied of vampire costumes and the last pumpkin has been gouged to pieces, a new terror is unleashed upon us.

Yes, I was strolling through my local Morrisons the other day, turned a corner, thus leaving tinned vegetables behind and walked right into it.

Oh no … The Christmas Aisle.

Come on, we’re only just out of October. And no, I wasn’t imagining it. I looked and there they were – rows of mince pies under the banner of Stock up in Time for Christmas. Looking at the boxes, I then saw the use-by date and noticed it said November 29. Now where’s the bloody point in that and how is this stocking up for Christmas? Your mince pies will be green and mouldy come the time you tell the kids about a fat man climbing down the chimney while also warning them not to speak to strangers.

Christmas. The season of goodwill to all retailers is upon us.

And while I was in the supermarket …

I made a fatal mistake the other day. I only had about half a dozen items in my shopping basket and was weak. I gave in to temptation and made a stupid decision in using the automated checkout.

Now I hate these things. I’ve never been the same since the traumatic experience of having an argument with one. It was when they were first introduced and I’d bought two books and a newspaper.

I’d scanned one book, then the other, only the computer checkout didn’t recognise a reduction in price if you bought the two together. Therefore, I called the customer service guy who rectified the fault. Then, before scanning the paper, I made the mistake of placing my hand on the bagging area.

‘Unexpected Item in bagging area’, the computer droned.

‘It was me.’

‘Unexpected item in bagging area.’

‘IT WAS ME!’

‘Please remove item from bagging area.’

‘I have. I’m dancing around the aisle now,’ I banged my fist on the bagging area.

‘Unexpected item in bagging area.’

‘Arrrgggh! IT’S ME!’

Another call to customer services and the guy ambled back with mild resentment and attitude.

Right, I was ready to roll. Scan the newspaper – Blip.

‘Place the item in the bagging area.’

‘I have.’

‘Place the item in the bagging area.’

‘I HAVE.’ Bang of fist – again.

‘Unexpected item in bagging area.’

‘Arrrgghhhh!’ And another call for customer services.

Don’t you just love automated services? But it doesn’t end there. Last week, as this picture will show, I tried again.

Sorry for the poor quality, but it was taken on my phone and at an angle as I didn’t want people staring. I hate to make a scene, you know.

Anyway, I’d scanned my veggies, newspaper and loaf of bread. However, I ran into trouble when it came to my French Bread Stick.

Yes, that’s it. Big, aren’t they, and one of a few items in a supermarket, impossible to bag.

‘Place the item in the bagging area.’

WTF? How the hell can you place a French Stick into a tiny carrier. You can’t. It’s not possible. Regardless, the machine wouldn’t let me move until I did so. Therefore, I touched the bagging area to try to fool it, only to knock my bag onto the floor, scattering all my goods.

Arrrrggh! Fume. Rage. I hate those bloody machines.

Then, the thing wouldn’t let me pay. It still wouldn’t accept that I couldn’t bag my French Stick so it locked the terminal and I had to wait for an assistant.

Christ! I’d have been served quicker if I’d stood in the longest checkout queue behind ten pensioners with full trolleys who all wanted to stay behind for a chat.

A checkout lady came to me, showing all the personality of an auditor on mogadon.

I grinned. Pointed. ‘I really hate these machines.’

She reset it, showing what it must be like to live without a sense of humour.

Automated machines. No wonder people resort to shoplifting.

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.

A few months ago, I told the tale of a car park in Leicester which is supposedly the final resting place of King Richard III. The car park was built on the site of an old Abbey and it is there, the one-time child murdering, Uncle Dickie, is thought to be buried. I spoke those months ago about the silliness of it but apparently, they think they’ve found him now. Also, once identified by DNA, they are going to bury him again.

What? He was buried. He’d been underground over 500 years. What was the point digging him up only to stick him under the ground again? Have they nothing better to do in Leicester?

No … don’t bother answering that.

Here is the old duffer, being terribly over-acted by Sir Lawrence Olivier during the death scene from the film, Richard III, based on a play by some guy named Shakespeare.

Trying to eradicate history.

I’ve kept quiet about this for weeks but no more.

I’ve watched and read about the Jimmy Saville scandal with interest (God, that sounds like an opening from a letter to my local paper). I know the guy isn’t alive to defend himself but from the testimonies I’ve heard, I’m in no doubt he was a very bad man. Thing is, people are now trying to wipe out all trace he existed by changing street signs, removing plaques, etc. A huge effort, in fact. It’s a pity that effort wasn’t put in over the years bringing him to justice when alive. I don’t blame the girls one bit but I do blame all those who now say they suspected him all along. It’s like everybody knew. In fact, I feel like I’m the only person who didn’t know Jimmy Saville was a paedophile.

It’s a shame though. I’ll never be able to watch those boy scouts on the roller coaster without wondering if Jimmy asked them to promise to do their duty.

Whatever the conclusion, this should always remain one of the best TV moments ever.

Knob of the week.

I haven’t had a knob of the week for ages. I stopped when most of my subjects were all knobs and I just incorporated them into the other stories. However, as a headline for Tory MP, Philip Davies, knob of the week, says it all.

Davies showed himself to be an idiot of the utmost degree by suggesting the disabled and people with learning difficulties should expect to get less pay as they could never be as productive as more able folk.

I did think of arguing the case against his remarks, even coming up with some clever and satirical putdown for such ridiculous comments from an MP. However, I think in this case, basic name-calling insults will suffice.

CRETIN!

No spooks in this house.

As I was saying earlier, Halloween has gone and not only that, I didn’t get one kid trick or treating at my door this year. Great. I knew that Jim Fixed it for Me, badge would come in useful one day.

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,
Comment

The Sunday Roast – A Little Devilment and the Dreaded Ageing Process.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 8 Comments
October 28, 2012

Happy Halloween.

Boo!

It’s Halloween this week, or as paedophiles call it – Christmas. Halloween is a night in the past when Evil Ex-Wife saying “I’m going to get dressed up,” took on a whole new meaning. I have to admit, I never got the fuss about Halloween, though back in the days of Myspace, I did get loads of Halloween greetings come October 31. Don’t know why. Maybe I simply had more than your average count of witches and worshippers of Satan amongst my friends in the cyber-world.

And now, thinking of witches, I was suddenly struck by a thought …

Whatever happened to Gothic Girl?

You may remember my disastrous trips to a local chip shop where Gothic Girl used to serve/poison me. I’ve only been there twice in the past six months and on both occasions, she wasn’t there. The first occasion could be explained. It was early May – Beltane. She’d most likely be celebrating but once again when I visited in the summer, she was absent.

Oh no. What if she was rumbled as a witch? I’d best go and check the local ponds. If I see a stool with a young woman head down in the water while strapped to a chair, I’ll know for certain.

I need to see her. I want to know if she has a cure for grey hair in one of those potions of hers.

On the subject of grey hair …

It was my birthday the other day. Yes, I’m now forty-nine. One away from a major milestone or as some would call it – two-thirds of the way through life. Still, I shouldn’t complain. I don’t think I do too bad for my age and maybe I should be grateful about how I look. You see, my hair is still mostly brown and more important – there. I have, however, noticed over the last year that it is taking slightly longer to grow at the same time more ends up stuck to the bath. The thatch is not as thick and more noticeably, receding at the temples. This I can get away with as the wild abandon style I adopt, covers that up. Even so, I noticed when looking in the mirror just now, more white hairs than I’m used to. Arrgghhh! Therefore, I spent about ten minutes pulling each white hair I could see. That was until I pulled one then looked and saw it was still there. Double Arrggghhh! You have white hairs, then go and pull out a good one by mistake. Not only that, it was around the thinning area I spoke of earlier. Oh no. I’ll soon look like Doctor Who did when the Master zapped him, ageing him to over 100.

Calm, calm, calmer. Deep breaths – and relax.

Ahhh … the ageing process. Isn’t it wonderful.

I remember birthdays when I was a child. You’d be up at the crack of dawn and then relish every magic moment. It meant so much back then but only in reality because you got lots of presents. As the years passed and you grew older, the special nature seemed to disappear a little bit every year until you reach where I am now and couldn’t give a toss. God, I’m a miserable bastard sometimes. These days I think birthdays just turn into something you are obligated to do, and that’s not because nobody threw me an 18th, 21st or even 40th birthday party, either. But at least when you are young, birthdays are supposed to be something to look forward to. Then you reach 30 and for some reason, it’s dreaded in a way like your life is almost over. Then you get to 40 and that seems even worse. Why? I didn’t feel any different to when I was 18.

So now, I’m one off the 50. Blimey, life is now going to feel like the holiday which seems to go much quicker once you reach the second half of the week. But at least at 50, I still have 20-30 years left, so it’s nothing to worry about. Or is it?

Hang on a minute … I remember 30 years ago as if it were yesterday. For example, I still think of Ultravox as a contemporary pop group. What do you mean, who the fucking hell are Ultravox? They’re a sort of contemporary group … from about 30 contemporary years ago.

There they are, still touring. But hang on. Even they look ancient now.

But, I digress. Another 15 years on top of 50 and I’m drawing a pension. This is when I’m supposed to do all the things I want to do, but am unfortunately too old and knackered to do so. Look, I hate bloody gardening, so don’t even suggest it. And after 65, you have a few years of all that, ‘I never know how I had time to go to work,’ crap. Then 70 arrives. Oh. – My – God! By then I’ll have rediscovered religion before it’s too late and just be praying, ‘Please God, for pity’s sake, give me another ten and I’ll be good. I’ll go to church, I won’t swear … often. Just leave me for a little bit longer, just so I can have my allotted time. Okay? Thanks.’

80 arrives. Shit, bugger, balls and blast! Now what am I going to do? Should I sell my soul to the Devil? No I flogged that years ago for a cheap thrill with a girl in the cake shop. Just give me a couple more years. PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I carry on going and just about make it to 85 then realise what the term, borrowed time, means. 90 plus and it’s a case of ‘Look, I’m not being greedy, but I’d really like to make it to a hundred. I never managed to get one in cricket, so this would be adequate compensation. I think you’d agree. I wont get into trouble. I’ll try not to piss myself, dribble over people or even molest that nice nurse who looks after me (Look, she sat on my hand. Okay?). I won’t even ask for a telegram from the Queen (I never send her one, anyway). Just let me go about my business quietly and I won’t go bothering anybody. Honest, honest, hon… Croak!!!!!!!!!

Only Joking … I’m still here.

What do you mean … unfortunately? Hah!

Anyway, I’m off to prepare for Halloween and look for Gothic Girl. See … I’m all dressed up and ready.

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Comment

Interview with … er, Me.

Filed under: News, Writing Stuff — 5 Comments
October 24, 2012

I have been interviewed by writer, Rebeccah Giltrow, the result of which can be found on her excellent site. So, if you want to hear what I have to say about my works and writing, in general – read on here.

Link to ‘Rebeccah Writes,’ and my interview.

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , ,
Comment

The Sunday Roast – BDSM, Bigotry and a Bad Trip to the Dentist.

Filed under: Sunday Roast — 6 Comments
October 21, 2012

A bit like pulling teeth.

No, this isn’t another bit about people on the Jeremy Kyle Show who have bad teeth. The reason I’m posting a retro picture from a 1980s advert for toothpaste is that I had to go to the dentist the other day. The thing is … dentists – I hate going. The whole procedure is so invasive. On top of that, I’m sure my dentist hates me and took my ex-wife’s side when we divorced. Every time I go, he is far too rough with the scale and polish. Then there’s having a filling. He says having anaesthetic is dangerous these days and I need the drilling without one. I think he’s lying. Come on, I have reason to be worried. Even his name – Mr Carver. It send shivers. I insisted on a jab in the end though, then spent the rest of the day dribbling tea down my shirt as a result.

Still, I needed the filling done and all went well this time, apart from after Mr Carver finished and he asked if I needed to rinse my mouth.

‘Yes please,’ I said, ‘but I’ll have a cup of tea, that pink stuff is disgusting.’

Hmmmm. You know when you’ve said the wrong thing. Talk about no sense of humour. Mind you, with him being a dentist, perhaps it was the two sugars I asked for in my drink which he objected to?

Join the 21st Century, Mrs Wilkinson.

It amazes me that in this age of equality (and supposedly, common sense), there are still narrow-minded bigots clinging onto outdated beliefs based on biblical teachings that are most probably works of fiction.

Michael Black and John Morgan had booked into the Swiss Bed and Breakfast in Cookham, only to be turned away by religious nut, Susanne Wilkinson when she found out the couple were gay.

Quite rightly, John and Michael have received a payout as compensation for being discriminated against but church groups are still smarting. They say Swiss B&B was also Mrs Wilkinson’s home. Yes, she may live there, but when you chose to run your home as a business, you lose the right to impose illegal bigoted stances.

Jumping on the bandwagon and defending Mrs Wilkinson was BNP slime-ball, Nick Griffin. Now there’s a guy, I’m sure even Mrs Wilkinson doesn’t want to be associated with. Slick Nick tweeted in her defence. I took a look at his page and replied, though he hasn’t reacted to me. I did find it amusing and ironic, though to see Nick Griffin use the terms vile and filth … about other people.

Pot, kettle, black?

The Swiss B&B – Not open to homosexuals, lesbians, unmarried heterosexual couples or just about anybody who isn’t a believer of the bullshitting work of fiction, commonly known as the Bible.

And another own goal for God.

Poor George Pratt. All the 11-year-old wanted was to join the Boy Scouts. Unfortunately, he has been refused by the 1st Midsomer Norton Group in Somerset. The reason for this discrimination is that George is an atheist and will not compromise his beliefs. The Scouts say to join, you must pledge allegiance to the Almighty.

What a load of bollocks. It’s bad enough to have to say you’ll do your duty to the Queen to get into the scouts, but at least (unfortunately) a monarchy exists, not like this biblical nonsense. What bearing should that have on a kid wanting to join a youth organisation?

I never progressed to the scouts. I was in the cubs but left after being asked to dress up as a girl for a part in a drama play by a very suspect scout leader. He kept trying to play with my woggle.

A slap in the face for hard work.

Computer company owner, Maneesh Sethi, from San Francisco has employed a woman to keep him from straying onto Facebook while at work. He pays personal assistant, Kara, a wage to slap him every time he goes onto the social network suite. However, I bet Kara wasn’t expecting to come into work the first day and find this …

Personal Assistant … is that what they’re calling BDSM in the workplace, now? Perhaps more companies should try it.

On a different note, you would not believe how many sites I had to trawl to find a clean BDSM picture. Not only that, I got a virus from doing so, too.

And on an even more vague observation, does anybody else get fed up of Live Jasmin popping up every time you want to watch pre-recorded porn on the internet?

Disgraceful scenes.

Saw the appalling treatment given to England’s Under-21 black players by the friendly Serbs the other day. Monkey chants throughout the game followed by thuggish behaviour by a sorry load of sour losers. Of course, the Serbians deny this. A bit like they’ve denied genocide in the past. I’d like to think this is the minority and most Serbs are a decent lot. Unfortunately, there weren’t many in the stadium in Krusevac the other night.

And on the subject of football …

Stoke City footballer, Peter Crouch has been banned from driving after clocking up 21pts for persistently speeding. It’s nice to know the lumbering England forward knows the meaning of speed once in a while. Not only that, 21 points is way more than his team Stoke will achieve before Christmas.

There’s Peter Crouch …

And here’s wife, Abbey Clancy.

Hmmmm … Is it his good looks, stunning personality, or just the kudos for her of being a wag for the fame and the money?

At least the anaesthetic has worn off now …

And my teeth are fine. Not only that, there was hardly a mention in this post about Jeremy Kyle’s orally challenged guests. However, as I have said in the past, my site statistics show that is what half of you have Google searched before arriving at my page. Just to look at pictures of bad teeth. Christ, I’m going to have to satisfy demand again.

There, happy now?

Cheers.

Nick

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Comment