Tag Archive: Sharon Osbourne

The Sunday Roast – Parklife

A stroll in the park.

Took a walk in mine recently. The Arboretum is my home town of Walsall’s premier park, with lots of trees. It’s had a multi-million pound makeover recently, but I’m hard pressed to notice any difference.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Bandstand (1024x579)

There is a refurbished bandstand, I’ll give them that. However, I can’t recall seeing many bands being advertised to play there so it remains locked up most of the time.

Next, we have the boathouse, fully restored to former glory, reminiscent of days gone by.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Boathouse (1024x569)

Looks just as I remember … apart from boats, which there aren’t any as I assume health and safety deem it unsafe to have them on the lake.

Oh well, if I couldn’t go on the boats or listen to a brass band, I thought I might as well have an ice cream, or a cup of tea.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Old Tea Room (1024x565)

That used to be a cafe, but it has now been hollowed out with only the frame remaining to use as shelter for a couple of benches. I suppose I could sit there and pretend I had an ice cream.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Ladies Bowls Club (1024x550)

This was once the other cafe, but that also no longer serves refreshments. No, this building has been converted for the ladies bowls club to meet in one afternoon a week.

I gave up, took a look at the lake, and saw this sign.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Pool (1024x567)

WTF? Why have a sign with wording which can only be seen if you are in the lake, itself? I was curious, so I walked round and took this next picture at an difficult angle.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Pool With Sign (1024x863)

You may not be able to see properly, but it says no swimming or paddling. Good advice, if anybody could read it. However the only eyes which could, belong to the ducks. Word to the planning committee … Ducks can swim.

It makes one wonder who makes these decisions, and why has it cost millions, taking years to complete?

So we have a park with no tea shop, a bandstand with no band, and a boating lake with no boats. Not only that, you are in danger of drowning in the lake because the only creatures who can see the warning signs that it’s dangerous, are the ducks. Personally, I think the planning committee should be sent to this other park attraction.

November 10 - Walsall Arbouretum Stocks (1024x579)

And more planning madness.

I live in a pleasant little road with trees lined either side of the road. Unfortunately, some of them are very old and have grown so big, they take up most of the pavement, meaning you can’t get round. One such tree became so great a problem, it unfortunately had to be felled. Never mind, a young sapling was inserted in its place and life was reborn. But hang on … let’s have a look where they planted it.

Nov 10 - New Tree in Middle of Pavement (1024x870)

What in the name of sanity? They stuck the thing in the middle of the path, meaning you still can’t get past with a pushchair, wheelchair or any other kind of chair. A couple of years from now, it’ll be as bad as the one they chopped down.

A side order of boil in the bag rice.

I noticed this commercial on TV for boil in the bag rice. Burning question is … why has somebody stuck Uncle Ben on a tiny stool?

Uncle Ben's Rice Commercial

Just how many autobiographies can one person milk from the system?

It’s a bit of a bugbear of mine, the way publishers ignore writing talent for cheap celebrity orientated trash. Who buys this rubbish? I read recently that Sharon Osbourne has a third biography coming out with the title, Unbreakable. You see, she’s obviously crammed so much into life since her previous efforts of 2005 and 2007.

April 22 explosion Sharon

There is Sharon exploding when I blew her up last year. Not so unbreakable, now. For somebody who has made millions by having no talent whatsoever, perhaps Unbreakable is the wrong title. How about calling it, Thank God for my Psychopathic Husband?

Turning 50 – update.

First crisis of the ageing process was on the day after my 50th. I left my keys on the kitchen table and locked myself out the house. Oh dear, this is the beginning of the end. I need to lie down.



More recycling nonsense.

Last week I recycled old Sunday Roast material as I hadn’t anything new to say. And it got me thinking. In those pieces of old, I spoke of recycling when it first became a fad in my locality a few years back.

Before the present recycle collections, our local council used to issue us with a small box for recycling virtually nothing, while the rest went into the large green waste bin. Any recycling like plastic bottles, we had to take to collection points.

However, I applauded Walsall Council when they told us to use the huge green bins in order to recycle … well, just about anything. We were also issued with smaller grey bins for what little you couldn’t recycle.

May 26 - Waste Bins (C) Antony N Britt

There they are. In the larger green ones, as I say, the list was endless and Walsall was hailed as being at the forefront of environmentally friendly. Until last year.

Suddenly, us residents were doing it wrong. No longer was it okay to put in all of the previously indicated items. No, we had a compressed list of 20 suitable ones.

May 26 - Recycle Leaflet

Actually telling people would have been a good idea but these leaflets only went out after bins were left uncollected and jobsworth inspectors came along with their clipboards and put stickers on to say you’d done it wrong.

In hindsight, if things were not done correctly, then at least the council should have held their hands up and said they’d made a mistake with their previous guidelines.

Walsall Council own own up to something like that? Nah, that would go against the divine right mentality in the God complexes of those who run our council.

And another false way of helping the environment.

I’m always seeing products in my supermarket which have cheaper and supposedly, environmentally friendly refill packs.

May 26 - Refill Packs (C) Antony N Britt

Yes, just like that. Horlicks bedtime drink and sweetener. These usually come in plastic tubs or jars, as shown. I’m told this will save the environment. Really? You see, I can recycle the jars, however, not the refill packaging. So how is that better?

Also, it is supposedly costing me less as these refills are a few pence cheaper and I can save the money by just emptying the contents into the old jar.

Yeah, right, have you ever tried to pour a refill into an old jar? Take the sweetener. No matter how careful you open the plastic packet, as soon as you attempt to pour, most of it goes over the side and creates a white cloud akin to an Icelandic volcano. Therefore, my fifty pence saving is no longer still in my pocket, it is in a squidgy mess being mopped up with a paper towel from my kitchen surface. A kitchen towel, I will add, I cannot recycle.

Now something I can recycle …

Look. This is the scene in my front porch, as I speak.

May 26 - Pizza Menus (C) Antony N Britt

Tell me, just how many pizzas do these fast food places expect me to be able to eat?

And what else is being recycled at the minute?

The FA has announced yet another new football kit to fleece the parents of every kid who wants to wear it. However, I can see their thinking on this one.

May 26 - New England Kit

The new kit is identical to the successful one used by Germany all these years. Therefore, by pretending to be Germany, the England football team can now hope to recycle a little of our European neighbours triumphs.

And on the subject of football …

Well, loosely connected to football … and very loosely connected to recycling …

Father of former England stars, Gary and Phil Neville, has been arrested.

May 26 - Gary and Phil Neville

Yes, there are the brothers but what on earth was their grandfather thinking when he named their dad, Neville?

Neville Neville? Recycling names takes a bizarre twist.

And recycling old, tired faces.

Karaoke talent show, X-Factor has long been guilty of recycling the same old garbage. However, they are now recycling judges well past their use-by date.

Sharon Osbourne is to return to the show at the cost of £1.5million.

April 22 explosion Sharon

There she is, in a recycled pic I posted last year when I blew her up.

It’s ironic. Sharon Osbourne, a person with absolutely no showbiz talent, judging a showbiz talent show.

That wraps up my recycling for this week.

Hope you have a better week than I’ve been having lately but for now, I’m off to the bottle bank to avoid being told off by my local council



Titanic, Titanic, Titanic!

Leonardo Dicaprio, Rose, sinking ship, floating on wood, plank and freezing water. There, I’ve done it – got all the tag-lines in to boost my search engine potential.

I was speaking of this the other week and about how using certain words, actually worked. However, I noticed some other traffic too. You see on this blog, I get a lovely load of stat-counts which tell me what tools are good, and what are not. When I talked of sex, I got loads more hits. I also noticed this week, my most viewed blog was not a current one, but a roast from a few weeks back: The Sunday Roast – Pasties, Petrol and a Queen Singing Parrot. I wondered why this was and after investigation, I saw all the searches were based on my piece about the Titanic; the skit I did about Rose floating on the wood and her selfishly, not shoving across to let poor old Leo get on board, thus condemning him to a icy death.

There, a blatant and shameless reprint, partly to remind you but really, to get everybody looking again and boost this week’s traffic. It was the same with the sex talk. God, it works. And while we’re on the subject … Titanic, Rose, naked.

What, you thought I was going to show full nudity? There may be children reading this.

Anyway, I also had this other nagging thought about the film, Titanic. Not only was dear old Rose spiteful for not letting her lover onto the raft, she also carried her evil ways on right up until her death. You see, the film comes about by the adventurer, Brock Lovett, trying to recover the diamond that Rose has been wearing all her life, but he thinks is still in the Titanic. In the end, the aging lady stands on the deck of Lovett’s craft and hurls the stone to the bottom of the ocean.

How poignant. Or as I was thinking. ‘You bloody selfish woman! You did it again.’ Not only did she doom poor Leo to reside on the bottom of the Atlantic, she now wastes that guy, Lovett’s time by having his crew spend thousands trying to find the diamond and when he is within touching distance, she chucks it overboard. What a cow! I mean, Brock’s even given her an all-expenses paid passage on his boat in order for her to tell him that long-winded story, and how does she repay him? She does that!

And speaking of Titanic – still …

There does seem to be a massive hoo-ha at the minute over the Titanic because of its 100-year anniversary. This was none more evident than the bizarre cruise taken by those on the MS Balmoral. Here, people booked five years in advance to party, buy t-shirts saying ‘I survived the wreck,’ and then spend many hours listening to tales of how 1500 people died in the freezing cold of the Atlantic Ocean.

Tacky … or what?

A case of sore heels.

My barmy local council are at it again. They have chosen not to have the election count in the town hall but at a college campus instead. They have also banned women from wearing high-heels in case it damages the floor.

Yes, I know, this is Walsall we’re talking about and most women here wear trainers and tracksuit leggings. However, there are a few that still have a little style and we now have the prospect of them standing on the podium waiting for results to be announced, all wearing their croc shoes.

An idea of what your average politician should be wearing this year.

It’s all bull. I know the real reason and it’s not to do with protecting the floor, either. These local government events can get a little feisty and it doesn’t look good for the results to be announced with the Conservative Party Candidate, standing smiling with a six-inch stiletto sticking out his ear.

Exhibit number one, Your Honour …

Headline of the week.

So … Sharon Explodes. Why, did her artificial implants spontaneously combust?

Apparently, Mrs Ozzy Osbourne is a bit miffed that pop mogul and promoter of all things banal, Simon Cowell, has a book out which apparently, drags Sharon into his seedy and debauched world. How dare he? I mean, talking gutter stuff and all things catty and full of sleaze? That’s Sharon’s job – surely?

Sharon Osbourne. Proof that you can have absolutely no talent and still earn millions from the entertainment business.

And speaking of Simon Cowell …

Do we really want to know all of your dirty little secrets? Funny timing though. Bring out a warts and all book when your TV show isn’t going too well while it’s up against new rival, The Voice. Mind you, that’s just what we need, another freakin’ talent show, thrusting more generic and insipid tripe into our ears. I remember when music had passion.

It’s Sunday, but at least Titanic has finished on TV.

No, I don’t mean the James Cameron version, not the one I’ve spent this entire blog talking about. The Cameron epic is the one that has had a few little gimmickry tricks superimposed and is now being flogged to gullible audiences in our cinemas as a new film. The Titanic I’m talking about is the ITV dramatisation that finished last week. I’ve been watching it with my daughter who sadly, seems to be becoming obsessed with the Titanic. She keeps looking it up on the internet, reading about it and searching for clips on YouTube – and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

Sorry … couldn’t resist.

Now this new version of the tragedy was shown over four weeks and apart from being tediously dull, had an irritating style of plot. Each of the first three episodes kept going back to before the voyage started. You see, the action (Coughs – Yeah, I know) is interwoven with bits of the story you have already seen in previous weeks. All three episodes before the final one, ended on a cliffhanger, meaning yes, we have to see the bloody thing go down over and over again. It was confusing. There was one good thing though. At no point did I see some useless girl on a raft taking up all the space while her young lover freezes his bollocks off in the icy waters before joining the great refrigeration department under the sea.

There. Had to get it in again, didn’t I?



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