Tag Archive: Roger Medwell

Highlights of 2012

December 30 - 2012

What I thought I’d do this week is what many publications or television programs put out this time of year. We’re going to have a nostalgic look back at some of the pieces which I’ve roasted about during 2012. Or to put it another way – recycle a load of crap because I can’t be arsed to write a proper blog this week.

With that in mind …


Ha! There was no January. I only started this site February 1. However, as I’ve pointed out on a number of occasions, the Sunday Roast ran for three years on Myspace. The decline of that site was the reason I decided to set up my own, but I am always thankful for Myspace,  even if it is now a total bag of shite.

June 10 Myspace


Okay, this has to be one of my favourites, straight from the off.

Poor Roger Medwell. Imagine the scenario. You spend 55 years working for British Aerospace and on retiring as a director, they give you this …

Feb 12 roger-painting

Smile, Roger, smile. Stop gritting those teeth. You didn’t want a new surround sound system, anyway.


If you follow my blogs, you’ll know I have a love/hate relationship with my own Walsall Council. I love to bait them, and they hate me for it. So much so, I’m told my site has been blocked, meaning council workers cannot read it while at work.

Anyway, after one of our spats, I trawled through their Twitter feed and came across this picture of their attempts to promote the town.

March 18 Hooker

What exactly are they trying to attract – prostitution? I think the idea was to display a layout for planned improvement. However, all it seemed to show was a damn good place to pick up hookers.


This was a Titanic month. In fact, it was a theme which went on for quite a while. You see, I’ve always had this beef with the film, Titanic. You know, the fact that Rose is safe in the lifeboat but jumps back on board thus endangering Jack. All that, “I jump, you jump,” nonsense. If she’d stayed on the bloody lifeboat, Jack would have had that piece of wood to himself when the ship went down. Not only that, it was bloody well big enough for the both of them.

April 1 Titanic Water 2

Couldn’t she have given him a turn? And then there was his last words to her. “Don’t let go, Rose, don’t you ever let go.”

So what does she do? She bloody let go. Her may not have been dead, just in cold storage for a bit. What a cow.


It was about this time I had loads of people searching for pictures of the dentally challenged when I did a bit about guests with bad teeth on the Jeremy Kyle Show.

Sorry, no dentures today. That was drilled to death in the summer. Go and search the archives.

My favourite piece this month showed the fine line between humour and tragedy, and that newspapers need to have a bloody good copy editor before they send the thing to print.

A note to anybody in the newspaper industry. Always check for inappropriate advertising placement before you run a story above it.

May 6 Headline


This was it, the month when I took the kids on their annual holiday, only for it to piss down all week. As well as getting rained on, I was kept awake with my caravan being ten feet away from a main road. I also faced financial ruin after spending all my cash in amusement arcades because I couldn’t go anywhere due to  the aforementioned rain.

But did it end there? No! Not only did the machines bankrupt me, they wouldn’t pay out on the few occasions I did win.

June 17 Fruit Machine

Yes, IOU £1. That’s the first time I’ve ever been given an IOU from a machine.


And to celebrate his 94th birthday, Nelson Mandela turns into a chameleon.

July 22 Chameleon Mandela


And I can’t believe after many months, some people were still using their search engines to find Jeremy Kyle Teeth and ending up with me.

No – still not going to show any pics but one thing I did comment on was the evolution of man. You see, scientists reckon in a few million years, the human race will have evolved into a higher and lower species.

Millions of years? It’s already happened. Look!

Aug 11 Evolution of Chav

Ascent of man? I bloody hope not.


Bit of a quiet month over here, but not in Haren – Holland after some silly girl posted on Facebook that she was having a party. 4000 people gatecrashed the event causing riots and thousands of pounds worth of damage.

Sept 30 Haren

4000 people! Imagine. That’s 4000 people without a social life.


I spent much of this month traumatised after a good friend of mine, Rich, pointed out that the picture of the smiling Aquafresh family from the 80s, seemed to suggest the mother and father were siblings and their child could be the result of an incestuous relationship.

Oct 21 - Teeth

I’m still receiving counselling.


November – I saw this strange sight.

Nov 25 - Solo Chair in Wolverhampton © Antony N Britt

A single seat for shoppers to sit on. All the others in Wolverhampton Centre appeared to be of a two or three seat variety. However, this one was on its own. A seat for Nobby No Mates.

Only in Wolverhampton.


Two words to sum up December.

December 23 - Bah Humbug!

So that was 2012.

Not sure how long I’m going to go on roasting. Could be time for a break. Like a jar of pickled onions, there’s only so much you can take before things start to repeat. I mean, how much more can I wring out of the Titanic nonsense, or talk about Gothic Girl while going on about people with bad teeth on Jeremy Kyle.

Yes, I certainly think I should leave the latter, alone.

December 30 - Jeremy Kyle Teeth



Am I mellowing?

In the months between my last Roast on Myspace and setting up the site here, I posted the odd comment on Facebook. This was mainly for lack of anywhere else to spout off. One of my many observations during this time, was the poor service I got from Gothic Girl at a local chip shop. You see, I have found a really nice fish and chip shop but it seems, good chips come with a price. Every time I go in, I have to wait fifteen minutes as they haven’t got anything cooked. Now listen. It’s called fish – and chips, it’s what they sell but never have any ready to serve.

I digress; you get the gist. Service is poor and last week was no exception. Unfortunately, for this blog, I can’t bring myself to have a go at Gothic Girl today as she was so bloody pleasant to me. I’m going soft, I can’t do it to the poor Corpse Bride.

What am I going to do? I’ve lost my touch. I can see it now. Next time I go into Pizza Hut to be told they’ve run out of dough, I’m going to say, ‘That’s okay, I’ll have pasta instead.’

Arrgghhh! What is happening to me?

And the winner is …

Apparently, Robbie Williams has been voted the world’s hottest man. Why, has he been sitting on a radiator all day? I have to admit, I never could see the appeal in terms of good looks for this fella, apart from the obvious “He’s rich and famous,” line. Perhaps it’s me and the fact I don’t understand what sort of looks women go for, in general. What I do know is, I always think Robbie is the spitting image of the stereotypical guy who stands behind news reporters and pulls silly faces. Oh well, at least he didn’t win a Brit award this year.

And speaking of the Brits …

The economy is in crisis, Syria is being bombed to bits but the biggest news in the UK is … that Adele had her Brit Award acceptance speech ruined to allow Blur to perform their set. Yes, Adele, the worldwide singing sensation (or monotonous dirge, depending on your viewpoint), was just about to thank everybody from her mum to the local postman when compere, James Cordon, was told to cut her off in mid-sob as the show had overrun. I have watched it now on You Tube and haven’t a lot of sympathy because if she hadn’t spent an entire minute trying to milk the crowd while fawning about saying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she might have got a few words of note into an acceptance.

Still, she was booted off the stage while displaying a disgraceful finger gesture to allow 90s pop band, Blur, onto the stage.

Blur had earlier won a special award for outstanding contribution to music. I’d be more impressed if they hadn’t spent six of their 21 years together, in a hiatus. How the hell is that an outstanding contribution?

At least the fantastic Foo Fighters won an award for best international group; much deserved after the excellent ‘Wasting Light,’ album last year.

The award that amused me was the one for best single, won by teeny group, One Direction. They may have polled more telephone votes, but do their fans realise you should get the bill payer’s permission (their parents) before ringing in.

One Direction – A group of guys who got lost following the leader in Peter Pan, it seems. Ugh! There’s only one direction my volume goes if I hear them on my car radio.

Not the best idea in the world.

Okay, lesson for the future. Don’t watch the Jeremy Kyle Show while you are eating.

Spaghetti bolognese did not taste good after watching her. And yes, the personality was as vile as she looks.

Nob of the week

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday dear tyrant …

Happy birthday to you

Robert Mugabe turned 88 this week, still presiding over a country whose population’s average life expectancy is only 34 years of age. There’s no justice is there? Mugabe says the success of living longer is to give up alcohol, smoking and red meat. Yes Robert, as your country is in poverty, your people don’t do any of that anyway. The real success of living to a ripe old age in Zimbabwe, it seems, is to become a ruthless dictator and live in luxury while the rest of your people starve. Then they too, may live to be 88.

Look at the King, look at the King, look at the … er, Queen?

I’ve never got it – London Fashion Week and any kind of fashion nonsense to be honest. It always shows just how true the theory of the Emperor’s New Clothes, is. All these people fawning about over models dressed in carrier bags held together with safety pins; who are they kidding that they think it’s good?

However, the best was this week when at a show, hats were paraded by models in the nude – apart from the hats, that is. As I say, Emperor’s New Clothes has come full circle now and you’re not telling me that any of the audience were not simply ogling the naked women.

Still, I suppose it was better than looking at the rubbish hats.

The worst leaving present – EVER!

One of the other things I posted on Facebook in my blogging absence was this picture of Roger Medwell and his farewell gift on retiring after 55 years with British Aerospace.

‘Hmmm … I wonder what they’ll get me: some garden furniture, a stereo system? Even an ornamental clock would do. Oh, here it is now …’

‘Bugger!’ Grit’s teeth. ‘Smile Roger, smile.’

Mind you, when I finished with West Midlands Police, the only official thing given to me was a certificate stating that I had worked for them for 17 years.

Yes, thanks for that, but seeing as it was me who worked there, I did actually know this in the first place.



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