Jerree, Jerree, Jerree, Jerree, Jerree, Jerree…….

The BBC is showing – ‘Jerry Springer, the opera’ tomorrow night. It’s going out on BBC 2 - so that’s alright, because it’s intellectual.

I understand that swear words, mostly of the ‘EFFs’, ‘SEEs’ and ‘MudderEFFers’ are the expressions of choice – apparently about 3,500 times during the show.

Predictably, the good residents of Tunbridge Wells have risen in their thousands to protest at this "appalling use of licence payers cash". I understand the plot centres around some geezer on the show, dressed only in a nappy who is convinced he is J.C. himself – so the inevitable accusations of what used to be called ‘blasphemy’ are also being made.

Predictably, the BBC has retorted that it is an important contemporary work, adult, witty and deeply satirical. They say that to take it off air would be a disaster for a democratic and liberal society, a blow against free speech and a victory for censorship.

With this new-found spirit of bravery, I look forward to future BBC schedules showing the following,

‘The Satanic Verses – the Musical’

‘Oh Cnut! - King of England and Dyslexic Dane – the Ballet’

‘Barry Khrishner - Punjab's Private Detective’

‘Buddha, fat, frumpy and in need of a makeover!’

‘Bollox – the funtime quiz show!’

‘Is God Gay? – Or does he just keep Mrs God out of the limelight because he’s a bit of a glory hunter?’

‘St Francis of Assisi – and his unhealthy interest in animals.’

Anyone got any jump leads?………

Having a bit of trouble getting motivated today.
Haven’t quite put my toe into the business firmament, circa 2005 yet.
Doing a lot of thinking.
A lot of chin rubbing.
A bit of doodling, on old Christmas cards – a Groucho type moustache & glasses on the Archangel Gabriel seems appropriate… It gives him a more brooding countenance. Or is Gabe a ‘she’? In which case she now needs a truck load of ‘Immac’ like right away.

I’ve come back to work completely jaded – a result of my long break being cruelly interrupted by a client insisting we complete a project during his factory downtime. So, my relaxing few days was spent in a dark satanic food processing factory erecting ‘employee communication material’ with vim, vigour and sticky tape…..

We finished in the pitch black at 11:00pm on New Years Eve - totally knackered, devoid of alcohol and in no mood to go out partying. I wasn’t really up for it anyway – the Tsunami seems to have washed optimism and hope to hell….

Other stuff at Christmas…

The day before Christmas Eve, my nephew Adam came over from Texas with April, his wife and her parents, Randy and Tammy. He coaches footy to American kids in Dallas.

We had a few scoops to celebrate the visit of our partners in the ‘special relationship’.

Boxing Day saw Adam’s belated Stag Do and a walking pub-crawl through crunchy frozen snow. We started at The Blood Tub and finished via The Ring ‘o’ Bells and Briars Hall at the Railway in Parbold.

The next day they had a blessing at the local church, then off to Wrightington Country Club for a gargantuan alcohol fuelled knees up.

A major altercation was narrowly avoided as 250 thirsty guests swamped the overpriced bar, demanding a drink from one of two hopelessly overworked bar staff. Swift negotiation and the application of a Chinese burn to the Manager’s wrist persuaded him to increase the bar staff quota by 100%.

I mean, its not as if it’s Christmas is it? The Yanks were appalled – we were embarrassed to say the least as another example of cheapo, no service Britain was on show for all to see.

The do was bloody excellent once the beer supply was sorted - problems arose the next day however. I don’t know what it was really, I must have caught some kind of virus from kissing so many people or something because I woke up with one hell of a headache…..

The yanks were really nice people. Up for anything and everything – which mostly involved drinking in pubs. The only things they struggled to get used to were the dark nights … and the cold….. and the rain.