Tag Archive: Jimmy Saville

Keep celebrity meals off the menu.

March 3 - Pasta © David Britt

Look, there’s a picture of a plate with far too much pasta on it …


One of the biggest gripes people have about social networking sites is over folk, friends and family who persistently post what it is they have just had to eat. It’s annoying. We don’t care. However, when you are a celebrity, it seems your entire world falls prey to the media so when somebody like Katie Price tweets that they have had a Sunday Roast (a real one), papers like The Sun (Monday February 25 – page 11) think it’s newsworthy enough to re-tweet it in their scummy paper.

May 6 The Scum

Yes, she’s a celebrity … We still don’t care. Why should we be remotely interested in what some model has just had for tea? Go and do a proper journalistic job and report on a government who discriminates against the disabled, or a Pope who covers up child abuse, or even the fact I witnessed police responding to a call by having to catch a bus (Really … it happened). We’re also not interested in what some failure of a soccer manager has been doing, or if he’s shagging some netball star (Friday – front page of The Sun). We also don’t need to know if some second-rate comedian has been sending smutty texts (Front page, Tuesday) Neither do we don’t want to know what he had for tea, either.

For Christ’s sake, report on the bloody news!

No smoke without fire?

Well, if there is going to be any white papal smoke billowing in the near future, you can be sure it won’t have been ignited by the head of the British Catholic Church. As if religion could be even more discredited, you have the most senior catholic in the UK, Cardinal Keith O’Brien, accused of sex crimes. Amazing, but should we be surprised?

We do need to be careful and not judge people, as most of the church hierarchy do when denouncing homosexuality. However, Keith O’Brien is innocent until proven guilty. Anyway, he won’t be found guilty, his track record of famous friends will stand him in good stead.

March 3 - Cardinal Keith O'Brien with Jimmy Savile

Oh shit!

Which Direction shall I take now? The only One I can.

Karaoke boy-band, One Direction, are furious. Their fans have been fleeced and scammed by bogus con-tricksters who set up ticketing scams.

A bogus company … conning folk? Well, One Direction would know all about that. Pretending to be a music act and misleading the audience into thinking they have any talent while hoping we won’t notice their instruments are mysteriously playing themselves.

June 24 One Direction

Okay, there’s a picture of the darlings, just to please the fans who I’ve just upset.

Rewriting history … Hollywood style.

It was a fun week at the Oscars with Ben Affleck film, Argo, winning three of the awards.

Best picture, best adapted screen play and best editing. Well, they certainly edited the truth.

Once again, the British have been removed from history and painted in a bad light by making out they failed to help a group of Americans during the Iran crisis in 1979. As it happens, we are told in reality, the British Ambassador risked his life to aid the evacuees.

But it’s not the first time, is it?

Braveheart, Saving Private Ryan, then there was U-571. That load of baloney credited the Americans with bravely capturing a submarine, cracking the enigma machine and thus, winning the war. In fact, it was the British who got hold of the thing and the codes were solved by intelligence officers at Bletchley Park.

I saw a small article this week that former Doctor Who, Jon Pertwee and Bond author, Ian Fleming, both worked for Naval Intelligence during the war, training commandos. No doubt if a Hollywood version is ever made, Pertwee and Fleming will be replaced by Errol Flynn and Ken Kesey, and even though the latter was only 10 when the war ended, it wouldn’t stop them.

As for Argo, I know sometimes you have to make a fictional account for artistic purposes, but don’t try to pass it off as being the truth. It’s insulting and embarrassing.

Dishing out justice.

Poor old David Compton of Darwen, Lancashire. Never been in trouble with the law and he gets into some for trying to maintain it.

A young neighbouring 11-year-old yob decided it was funny to pelt Mr Compton’s house with stones. David took exception to this, caught the kid and frogmarched him home to speak with his parents. Now if that were my son, I’d be furious. There is right and there is wrong. Some things you just don’t do. But did this pond-life of a family chastise their son? No, they reported Mr Compton to the police.

I think you can see where the kid learned his moral values from. Justice, eh!

March 3 - Kitchen Scales © Antony N Britt

Yes, I know it looks random but I wanted to insert a symbol of the Scales of British Justice, and these kitchen scales were the only ones I had.

So … what is the future for this Roast?

Going to be starting a new job soon. Can’t do all the hours I imagine I’ll be doing and still keep up my current writing output. Some things will have to go. Don’t know … Perhaps the roast will have to either be drastically reduced in size, or go to once every few weeks. I certainly would like to write more on other stuff as well, so watch this space. Or maybe I could just pad the Roast out with pictures of everything I have eaten all week.



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.’


‘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.


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.



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