Decisions, decisions……
Someone has just given me a DVD.
It’s a plain disc – in a plain plastic jewel case and it looks dead, dead dodgy. When he gave it me, he nudged me in the ribs, winked at me and whispered "Ere, have a look at this. Ceeeelebs being naughty"…...
"What?"
"Ceeeelebs, you know, doing things"
Penny drops, blinkers off, lights are on, uptake goes from ‘slow’ to ‘fast’….
"Ohhhh, things"
He then rattled through the performers he reckoned are on the disc…..a former star of ‘Baywatch’ and her former hubby, a hugely inflated ‘modull’, some Americans he didn’t have a clue who they were "But boy, they were fit" ….. and a former presenter of a colourful children’s TV show, his ambitious laydee and her sexy female friend.
"And you wanna see what those three get up to – deesgustin’!
I mean, don’t they have any deecorum at all?"
I confessed to not knowing about their decorum quota.
"I mean, that bloke from the kids programme, he’s got the camera, you can’t really see him, and anyway, his direction’s crap and the camera’s wobbling all over the place – hardly surprising really, judging by what the two women are doing"…..
Without waiting, he shoved it on the desk and went.
Well I would normally take a look – coz I am a big, big fan of ‘celebrity’……. But ‘Bargain Hunt’ was on the telly – and I really do need a new coaster for my cup of tea…. Honest.
I never knew it was contagious….
Alfreda’s Godmother is a real blue rinse pillar of the community. She’s slightly to the right of Attilla the Hun and Ghengis Khan in her politics.
In her ‘70’s, she’s a retired Head teacher of a large Grammar School and a former Magistrate/Justice of the Peace. Unfortunately, she lost her husband a couple of years ago and is now quite lonely.
About four months ago, she struck up a friendship with a couple in their mid forties. Two months later, the wife rang her up. She was in floods of tears. Her husband Gerald has left her to live with another man. My wife’s Godmother went round to offer support to Gerald’s distressed wife.
A couple of weeks later, whilst visiting, she relayed the episode with Gerald and his new man friend to my wife….
"Honestly, it’s such a shame, Gerald was such a normal man – and then he caught it"
"Caught what?"
"Gayness"
"You can’t catch ‘Gayness’ – it’s something that’s there all the time, or it isn’t. You don’t just catch the ‘gay’ germ - there's no such thing as a gay germ"
"Oh yes there is – and Gerald’s definitely caught it – maybe from toilet seats, because he was fine only a few weeks ago"….
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Tony, I didn’t know you cared…..
I got a touchy-feely email communiqué from the Rev’s disciples – ‘dark arts division’ at Labour Party HQ the other day. It asked me to help them make a better life for hard working families…. Looking at the Conference this week, it was easy to see that the Government front bench have had the new strap battered into them. They were shoving it in at every opportunity…
Hmmm. ‘Help us make a better life for hardworking families’ – that’ll be next year’s election mantra, then. Obviously, the New Labour spinneratti reckon this is a real winner – it’s cuddly, it’s two point four and it’s all-inclusive – (as long as you belong to a family?)…
You can just picture the scene in Labour HQ ‘think-tank corp’. Lots of middle aged men with balding pates, pony tails and open toed sandals: sucking pencils, mints and stomachs (in)….
Barry, the team leader outlines the requirement "Listen up people – let’s don the collective cerebral cap and think!. We need a strap for next year’s Gen’ Elec’…
"Tony wants something to take the Electorate’s mind off"….
"The War?" blurted Simon
"Don’t mention the bloody War! NewLab Directive 23769/d clearly states that ‘The War’ should never be mentioned unless accompanied by a clearly resolute, four-square attitude, a steely resolve, a change of underwear and a double set of crossed fingers"
"Anyway, back to the brief
It’s got to be snappy,
It’s got to push the right buttons,
It’s got to be aspirational,
It’s got to mean something to John & Joan Average - and their family,
It’s got to get them back on side – let them know we care
In short, It’s got to be a sure fire winnerooney!"
"So let’s think!"
"Hmmmm"
"Uhhhhhhh"
"I’ve got it" screams Jeremy.
"Back to basics!"….
I got a touchy-feely email communiqué from the Rev’s disciples – ‘dark arts division’ at Labour Party HQ the other day. It asked me to help them make a better life for hard working families…. Looking at the Conference this week, it was easy to see that the Government front bench have had the new strap battered into them. They were shoving it in at every opportunity…
Hmmm. ‘Help us make a better life for hardworking families’ – that’ll be next year’s election mantra, then. Obviously, the New Labour spinneratti reckon this is a real winner – it’s cuddly, it’s two point four and it’s all-inclusive – (as long as you belong to a family?)…
You can just picture the scene in Labour HQ ‘think-tank corp’. Lots of middle aged men with balding pates, pony tails and open toed sandals: sucking pencils, mints and stomachs (in)….
Barry, the team leader outlines the requirement "Listen up people – let’s don the collective cerebral cap and think!. We need a strap for next year’s Gen’ Elec’…
"Tony wants something to take the Electorate’s mind off"….
"The War?" blurted Simon
"Don’t mention the bloody War! NewLab Directive 23769/d clearly states that ‘The War’ should never be mentioned unless accompanied by a clearly resolute, four-square attitude, a steely resolve, a change of underwear and a double set of crossed fingers"
"Anyway, back to the brief
It’s got to be snappy,
It’s got to push the right buttons,
It’s got to be aspirational,
It’s got to mean something to John & Joan Average - and their family,
It’s got to get them back on side – let them know we care
In short, It’s got to be a sure fire winnerooney!"
"So let’s think!"
"Hmmmm"
"Uhhhhhhh"
"I’ve got it" screams Jeremy.
"Back to basics!"….
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Where's the sick bag when you need one?
Just finished watching the Very Rev' St Tony of Blairyness giving his speech at Brighton - and now I've got my head down the toilet. Can someone please pull the chain. P.S. Tone - you are not allowed to invade another Country on the excuse of regime change - it's against the law, even for saints.
Flier, flier, Pendolino’s on fire……
"Attention, attention, the Virgin Galactic flight to space, the Universe and everywhere is about to depart from gate number 6. Please make sure your tribble pets are all safely stowed. Your Captain is Dan Tiberius Slog ….. have a good trip"…..
So how brill is that then? Yesterday, Sir Richard Branston announced plans to start a new service for the discerning traveller. Sir Dick’s going ‘Galactic’ – straight into space (and back again, hopefully!) – and all for the princely sum of 115 grand per head.
Form a queue?…Hmmm, I don’t know really – seems a bit steep. But it’s still cheaper than a cup of steaming hot Virgin Rail tea…..
As it happened, on the same day, Branston’s brand new supa dupa sexy train service started. The sexy new tilting ‘Pendolino Train’, with sexy new go faster whizz lines down the side is intended to make the journey down the west coast more comfier, more sexier, more quickly-er for the hard pressed, pissed off, British commuter….. I don’t know whether Branston has thought of a sexy new word for the sexy new train service…. ‘Reliable’ would be a good one.
Unfortunately it isn’t. Whilst Richard Branston was playing with scale models of his Virgin spaceship in front of the worlds press. – and with the timing that comedy writers can only dream of. The first train out of Glasgow – bound for London and intending to make the journey in the blink of an eye lasted until Carlisle – some 300 miles short of the intended target. "Sticky brake causing a bit of friction and ‘wheel flattening" – another couple of feeble excuses pulled from the ‘lexicon of utter bollocks’ by the most overworked employee in the entire Virgin organisation, The Director, Bullshit Division.
That’s Pendolinos for you, designed by Italians, built by Italians, bought by Plutocrats, driven by British Train Drivers, until they break down, sold to the Chinese as scrap….
So there’s the choice, the 09:15 from Glasgow to London (eventually) or the 07:30 to space ….. (and oblivion?)…
I bet, even now The Virgin Director – Bullshit Department is concocting some brand new excuses for Virgin Galactic failures of service…..
"We are sorry but the 07:10 Virgin Galactic to space exploded on the runway. This was due to a virulent plague of killer Tribbles eating through the wiring and vapourising the dillithium crystals"…
By way of recompense please accept a free can of Virgin GalactiCola with our compliments"…..
It’s one thing to be dumped on a wet and windy platform in Carlisle – it’s quite another to be stranded just left of Alpha Centauri due to an unforeseen gust from the wrong kind of cosmic wind…
You'll obviously miss that very important appointment by several hundred light years, but its no use swearing your head off, effing and blinding won’t make the relief spaceship arrive any quicker……..
After all, in space no one can hear you blaspheme….
Just finished watching the Very Rev' St Tony of Blairyness giving his speech at Brighton - and now I've got my head down the toilet. Can someone please pull the chain. P.S. Tone - you are not allowed to invade another Country on the excuse of regime change - it's against the law, even for saints.
Flier, flier, Pendolino’s on fire……
"Attention, attention, the Virgin Galactic flight to space, the Universe and everywhere is about to depart from gate number 6. Please make sure your tribble pets are all safely stowed. Your Captain is Dan Tiberius Slog ….. have a good trip"…..
So how brill is that then? Yesterday, Sir Richard Branston announced plans to start a new service for the discerning traveller. Sir Dick’s going ‘Galactic’ – straight into space (and back again, hopefully!) – and all for the princely sum of 115 grand per head.
Form a queue?…Hmmm, I don’t know really – seems a bit steep. But it’s still cheaper than a cup of steaming hot Virgin Rail tea…..
As it happened, on the same day, Branston’s brand new supa dupa sexy train service started. The sexy new tilting ‘Pendolino Train’, with sexy new go faster whizz lines down the side is intended to make the journey down the west coast more comfier, more sexier, more quickly-er for the hard pressed, pissed off, British commuter….. I don’t know whether Branston has thought of a sexy new word for the sexy new train service…. ‘Reliable’ would be a good one.
Unfortunately it isn’t. Whilst Richard Branston was playing with scale models of his Virgin spaceship in front of the worlds press. – and with the timing that comedy writers can only dream of. The first train out of Glasgow – bound for London and intending to make the journey in the blink of an eye lasted until Carlisle – some 300 miles short of the intended target. "Sticky brake causing a bit of friction and ‘wheel flattening" – another couple of feeble excuses pulled from the ‘lexicon of utter bollocks’ by the most overworked employee in the entire Virgin organisation, The Director, Bullshit Division.
That’s Pendolinos for you, designed by Italians, built by Italians, bought by Plutocrats, driven by British Train Drivers, until they break down, sold to the Chinese as scrap….
So there’s the choice, the 09:15 from Glasgow to London (eventually) or the 07:30 to space ….. (and oblivion?)…
I bet, even now The Virgin Director – Bullshit Department is concocting some brand new excuses for Virgin Galactic failures of service…..
"We are sorry but the 07:10 Virgin Galactic to space exploded on the runway. This was due to a virulent plague of killer Tribbles eating through the wiring and vapourising the dillithium crystals"…
By way of recompense please accept a free can of Virgin GalactiCola with our compliments"…..
It’s one thing to be dumped on a wet and windy platform in Carlisle – it’s quite another to be stranded just left of Alpha Centauri due to an unforeseen gust from the wrong kind of cosmic wind…
You'll obviously miss that very important appointment by several hundred light years, but its no use swearing your head off, effing and blinding won’t make the relief spaceship arrive any quicker……..
After all, in space no one can hear you blaspheme….
