It's the season of goodwill.

It never ceases to amaze me how much crap people are prepared to buy at Christmas time. If it's not overloaded shopping trolleys filled with umpteen presents for spoilt ungrateful brattish children or alcohol, saturated fats and E-numbers to the point of needing a HGV licence to push it, then it's the cretins that crawl out from the woodwork in the hope of finding a cheap piece of  'tat' in the sales.

As you are all aware, i'm an effervescent, cultured, well mannered, 24 carat chap who can not only cook authentic dishes '' from scratch '' but is someone who has been likened many a time to that debonair pinnacle of class and sophistication; Nigel Havers. As such, i resist all temptation to venture out during the sales and rub shoulders with the hoi-poloi, until today. Needs must you see......

Being a delicate soul means i'm not a fan of large crowds as most people these days are extremely lacking in life's basics, such as; manners and common courtesy. Even more so when the opportunity of a non-existent bargain is on the horizon. Notice that i used the word 'non-existent'. That's because last week i decided to price up a few items for Casa Heckles, you know, spruce the homestead up a little and bag a cheeky bargain or three [a state pension doesn't go far these days i'll have you know]. Anyway.... upon fighting my way through today's riff-raff, a couple of things hit my senses like a bolt out of the blue.

[1] That there were NO real bargains to be had. In fact some of the stuff had actually gone UP in price, despite all the banners screaming 'prices slashed' and 'beat the VAT rise in Jan'. How i giggled as those poor deluded fools fought over the 'bargains' like vultures picking at the sun ripened flesh of a rotting carcass half crushed on the highway to hell [or Coventry].

[2] Instead of these highly annoying people wasting time ohh-ing & ahh-ing over which plasma tv to buy why didn't they walk across the street and pop into Boots to purchase a bar of soap and some toothpaste because so many shoppers i had to push past needed a damn good scrub. At best, one woman smelt like the stale jock strap of a South African rugby player ... ahem......so i've been told. I guess it says something about society when a person would rather pay £500 for a telly than a measly £5 for soap, deodorant and some 'intimate' hygiene products. Filthy bugger.

 Stay clean and smell nice, and somebody out there will like you - eventually!

Proper music....

...not like the rackett they play nowadays

Nominations are flooding in...

... for the most prestigious awards ceremony of 2010. Yes, it's nearly time for the 'Cock Of The year Award'. This year has seen an veritable avalanche of shite-hawks and scumbags. Thieving politicians, deluded micro celebs and Joe Public non-entities have been pulling out all the stops to prove their worthiness of such a coveted award. In no particular order, the front runners include...


Cheryl [the convicted drunken thug] Cole.
Nick [sells his own mother to get into power] Clogg.
Gordon [who says the Scots don't have a sense of humour] Brown.
Colleen [i've got an annoying accent and husband] Rooney.
John [i sleep with my team-mates missus, and get her pregnant] Terry.

Other contenders are:

Serial fainter Gillian Mckeith, that annoying bloke from Ryan Air, Katie Price and anyone who had the brass neck to appear on the pretentious clap-trap docu-soap 'The Only Way Is Essex.'  Stay tuned for the results!

200 TV channels and nothing to watch

Last night i had the unfortunate 'pleasure' of having to stay in and watch Saturday night TV..... due to a groin injury caused at the local Bowls Club. A fellow member put his kit bag down in the wrong place causing yours truly to go arse over tit and crushed my bowling ball. That Dick Ronson has a lot to answer for. Them Merchant Navy types, all the bloody same!!

So there i am, Sat'day night, favourite armchair, bottle of stout and a bag of Werthers Originals. Heaven! The only problem seemed to be that there was bugger all to watch on the gogglebox. All that money spent on fancy sat-nav telly and it's all wall-to-wall repeats or unrealistic American forensic drivel. Anyway.... it got so bad i forced myself to watch that X-Factor excrement. Do people really watch that tosh??? No wonder this country has gone to the dogs. I've heard better singing at closing time down at the British Legion on bingo night. And what the story behind that Wagner bloke? He looks like Pat Sharp's grandad ....who's been dragged up from the bottom of a gravel pit by Police scuba divers!!

Now, i'm no John Barrowman or katherine Jenkins, but that guy can't sing for toffee, although judging by the standard of contestants / judges, vocal abilities seem way down on the list of priorities. Eventually it got so bad i had to switch over and watch a harrowing WW2 documentary. It really comes to something when a person would rather watch footage of Nazi Death Camps than watch the X-Factor. Now that is torture. Thank God 'Celebrity Jungle Drums' has just started. Phew !!!



ready ... steady ...??

Well, there seems to be a plentiful supply of fireworks for this years Commonwealth Games in Dehli. Unfortunately they're not of the pyrotechnical / Guy Fawkes variety. With only days to go to the big opening, stadiums, accommodation and transport networks are still unfinished [according to the media]. I suppose you do have to bear in mind they've only had 7 years to get ready.lol. Rome wasn't built in a day you know.

serious head on for a moment!

These CWG's have been dogged by problems right from the start. Corruption, bribery, politicians taking back-handers [that would never happen in the U.K], workers living in sub-standard conditions and many deaths due to poor health & safety. I guess you have to wonder for who's benefit these games are being held. It almost seems like a repeating of the fiasco for the World Cup in South Africa. Billions of £'s splashed out on fancy venues for a 'knee's up' lasting a couple of weeks, but just a few streets away people are living in poverty with no jobs, no food or even clean drinking water. Yes, i'm sure a 80,000 seater stadium will come in very handy for a homeless child whose only source of income comes from picking up bits of recyclable plastic from the local rubbish dump. I guess someone, somewhere, is making a nicer little earner out of it.    

Normal service now resumed..

Top athlete's are now pulling out of the games due to safety fears over terrorist attacks, unfinished accommodation and not being able to source a decent cup of tea. And it's got so bad the officials are now starting to alter various events to cater to the conditions.

1. Pole vaulters will now be using scaffolding poles in their events.
2. Discus throwers will now be using roofing tiles, with medals being awarded to those who can get their tile closest to the 12 year old boy who's perched on the stadium roof with his hammer and nails.
3. Swimmers can't start a race by diving off the blocks because of a leak there's only 3 feet of water in the pool.
4. Instead of the weightlifters pressing barbells above their heads they'll be expected to hold up the ceiling instead.

In fact the only event that's guaranteed to go without a hitch is the long jump, mainly because supplies of building sand are endless.

And now access for pedestrians has become a big nightmare due to the footbridge linking the main car-park and the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium collapsing !! Apparently there's was too much rain last week!? Experts have been brought in to try and sort out the accessability problems...

... so far they've come up with a giant trampolene, unlimited use of Billy Smart's Human Cannonball and Evel Knievels stunt bike!!

Proper music....

... doesn't get much better than this!

Life's a beach

As a highly regarded member of the 'intelligensia' i like to spend my time pondering some of the more meaningful issues and unanswered questions in life. Such as the inner workings of the Large Hadron Collider, Proffessor Hawkins Big Bang Theory, the studying of black-holes and trying to work out how the hell people get them model ships inside the little glass bottles!!

Now, whilst the ship in a bottle mystery may never be solved, there are plenty of others that can. Anyway.... just the other day i was deliberating the pro's and con's of reincarnation and what would be the best thing to come back as. [when you get to my age you start to think of this type of stuff]. A veritable plethora of options sprung to mind. Perhaps come back as Nora Batty's wrinkled stockings or maybe even Gloria Hunniford's personal douche [now there's a thought].

I've now decided that a seagull is easily the best option. They have the best life. You get spend all day hanging out with friends down at the beach, free lodgings, harrass people you don't like the look of and get to eat fish & chips everyday. Sounds like a veritable nirvana to me. Although i do realise you don't have to be reincarnated to do most of the things i've just mentioned. On a recent brisk stroll along Skegness Promenade clearly highlighted all that's really needed for the life of a seagull is a dubious immigration status and free taxpayer hand-outs!!

The end.

It's been a bumpy ride at times, a bit of a love-hate relationship you might say. But yes, last night was the final Big Brother... EVER !!! [or was it?].

10 years worth of social re-jects,dossers, fantacists and the odd transexual all battling it out on national telly to be crowned the UK's biggest 'shite hawk.' No-one can deny that over the years there have been some classic moments and classic characters. Nasty Nick, sexy Shilpa, Makosi in the jaccuzi, Jackie Stallone & Bez. Unfortunately like most things in life they soon get hijacked by the politically correct brigade who aim to sterilise and water down anything on telly that might be popular. Without doubt this was it's achilles heel and eventually would seal it's fate.

From a personal perspective i was disillusioned with the show right up until the very end. No, not because the extremely loveable Chantelle didn't win outright [or pleasure herself with a wine bottle... ahem] but the fact that nobody came close to being killed in the house. Surely that would of been the ultimate accolade for any BB contestant and would surely of been a ratings bonanza!

So that's it. Or is it? Some are already saying it could come back again. Would that be a good thing? Maybe we should all remember BB with anxious, but fond memories. A bit like me thinking back to having that really bad case of hemorrhoid's.... before they got tied back and strangled! Bless..

Memories of the blitz

                                        Coventry, circa 1940               


I've noticed recently there's a lot of hoo-haa regarding the 70th anniversary of the blitz. Ahh yes, them were the good old days i'll have you know. Constant food rationing, Vera Duckworth songs, over-sexed yanks, power cuts, blackouts, wearing gas masks [mainly due to poor diet] and 'Geronimo' the re-usable condom! .....ahem ... happy days. Those damn gerries have got a lot to answer for. And not just for destroying vast swathes of our fine cities but also for trying to make goose stepping and silly moustache's fashionable. As far as i'm concerned, that's unforgivable...


A report on the telly said that damage was so vast it took until the late 1960's for all the ruined buildings to be rebuilt. From personal experience i know this to be untrue, as on a recent [and unfortunate] drive through Coventry city centre clearly showed that reconstruction work on their bombed out city hadn't even bloody started !!

Coventry, circa 2009

Snooker loopy

As someone with an extremely high IQ i find little of interest on the television nowadays. Viewing is limited to just the odd stimulating programme here and there, such as; Newsnight, Hard Talk, Question Time, The Sky at Night and err .... Total Wipeout!

Anyway..... the other night i sat down in my favourite armchair with a nice mug of tea plus a few bourbons and watched that Alex 'whirlwind' Higgins tribute thingy. I wasn't expecting it to be up to much as those ''Oh wasn't he great'' ....'' they broke the mould'' .... '' he was a one off'' ... type shows always seem to fall short of the mark. But this one didn't....

Most people who were alive in the early eighties are probably all dead by now [those that aren't, i'll out-live you all, even if it kills me] but this programme brought back lots of fond memories for myself. The late, late night snooker matches with the whole family squeezed into the kitchen to keep warm [no fancy central heating in them days i tell you]. All of us straining our mince-pies looking at our Phillips 18'' colour portable with .... wait for it.... a remote control. We even had one of those brown sofa's with the chrome tubular frames. Yep, it would seem that style and good fashion sense have stayed with me even into old age.




Snooker was a big deal back then, in some ways bigger than football. Snooker players such as; Alex, Dennis Taylor, Bill Werbeirnuick... [you know who i mean] Jimmy ''Hurricane'' White were always in the papers or on the telly as mega millions of viewers would switch on to see the action. My favourite player was, and still is, Steve Davis. Okay, so he might have a certain gingerness about him but when someone is that good you can almost overlook it.

Needless to say, i've played a few frames in my time. You may find this hard to believe but i'm nothing special, honest. My highest break is about 35 so i'm definately no expert. Although in the past several people have passed comment on my smooth wrist action. Unfortunately i don't think those remarks had anything to do with my snooker abilities!

                  

Oi you lot...lazy slobs, the lot of yer !!

Being a happy kind of person it takes quite alot to get me all riled-up and angry with other people. But what really gets my goat are these lazy, slovenly, un-washed layabout types. You know the sort!

Earlier on today whilst popping down to the local Darby and Joan Club [Wednesdays mean it's fish and chips for just £2] i had the misfortune of witnessing some 'woman' standing in the street wearing pajamas and a cheap terry towelling bathrobe. It's times like those i wish i'd never bothered sorting out them damn cataracts! But i ask you, how lazy can a person be? Do you youngster's have any standards these days? Whats needed is the reintroduction of National Service. A good 12 months of being poked in the arse by Major Warbouys bayonet would soon straighten out those uncouthed civvy street slackers.

One of the laziest traits i've recently noticed people doing is taking their fancy cars to one of them there 'hand carwash' thingies, then proceeding to stand three meters away whilst some poor Polish immigrant hoovers out the interior. Just exactly how lazy does a person have to be to stand back and watch another person clean the crap out of their own car? Maybe the thought of having some impoverished European valet their motor gives them a slight ego boost. Looking at the state of most of them, they bloody well need it! 

Why just the other day i heard a report on the wireless by some top medical chappy talking about today's parents having a longer life expectancy than their own children! Lazy parents with a poor attitude to healthy foods are two of the main problems [along with poor fashion sense no doubt].

Not so long ago i saw a 20ish year old girl walk into a McDowell's [with gym kit in hand] and order 20 nuggets, burger, fries and a milkshake to wash it down. Needless to say she was at least 5 stone overweight. Maybe because she thought the nuggets contained something that slightly resembled chicken then it was ok ....yeah okaay. And before any of you cheeky young pups say anything, no, i wasn't in there eating their disgusting foodstuffs, i'd nipped in to use their gents. When that bag needs emptying.........

Basically, all are nothing but greedy, overindulgent, self-obsessed, self-unaware, lazy scumbags..... if you want my opinion. I always try and eat healthily, especially whilst i'm in training for 2012. Yep, even at my age i'm still trying to make the team. They do say that 'if you reach for the stars and miss, you can always grab the moon', or words to that effect. Although on Monday afternoon i did fall off the wagon ever so slightly. I baked an awsome double chocolate chip sponge cake and soon afterwards gave into temptation and devoured a man-size portion, pronto. Anyway .... soon after i decided to have my usual 4:00pm nap to recharge the old batteries before tea. Well it was a case of lights out as soon as my head touched the pillow ..... and didn't wake up until nearly 5am the next day, that's nearly thirteen flaming hours!!!! Now i've heard of 'death by chocolate' but that must be the first ever case of  'coma by cake' 

Proper music...

... yup, they certainly don't make classics like this anymore

Double thumbs up from Fonzie

I'm not a big fan of rich people, mainly because ... er .... i'm jealous!

Besides, most seem to have their heads stuck up their own arse, have overinflated opinions of themselves and look down their nose at others. So it was quite endearing the other day to see a posh chap jump out of his spanking new Jag and gather-up some ''old boy's'' shopping that had fallen off his scooter whilst using a zebra crossing. It's times like these that make you re-evaluate your entire belief system. I guess one thing we're all guilty of is stereotyping people, i know i do, mainly because it's such good fun. I too would of gotten out my car to help that chap but i'd just warmed the car up a treat and had much more important things to do, you know, places to go people to see....

Woo-Hoo!!.... early night for me.

I'm not sure about anyone else but what i really enjoy is a good olde fashioned early night.

You know, really set the scene. Fluff up the duvet and pillows, dim the lights [well, put the lamp on]and maybe even a wee drinky of something nice strategically positioned on the bedside table [well away from the false teeth and steredents] and then dive into bed and enjoy a right good .... book!

Oh yes. Not much in life beats a good book you know. As a serious intellectual i've read all the heavyweights. Orwell, King, Tolstoy and ..... erm ..... Prescott!! Anyway, now that the olde haemorrhoid's have started playing up again my favourite armchair is out of bounds, which is a considerable pain in the arse [pardon the pun]. So, curling up with a book and having an early night is the best/softest solution.

Such is my thirst for knowledge i've had to place an order for some new 'material'. I didn't realise buying books over the t'interweb was so easy, even for an incontinent duffer like myself. And seeming as it was [meals-on-wheels] Whiskers Janice's birthday the other day i decided to throw caution to the wind, un-tie the purse strings, splash the cash and buy her a book too! Yes i know, i'm generous to a fault. Generosity has always been my achilles heel. The mere fact that i also needed to increase my total spends in order to qualify for the free delivery option didn't even enter my head.

Lip Up Fatty !!

Who's who? Pete Burns or Katie Price?

What is it with these minor celebs who keep having all this cosmetic surgery stuff. If it's not new teeth from B&Q [Cheryl Cole] or having their face's stretched tighter than a snare drum [Denise Van Outen] then it's getting their bangers increased half a dozen sizes [Dane Bowers]. I've always been lead to believe that 'less is more'. That's certainly true if you've ever had the misfortune to see me fully naked [ahem].

Anyway..... Just the other day whilst sitting in my favourite armchair [waiting for the meals-on-wheels woman to turn up, 'Whiskers Janice'] i decided to have a read of the paper. Big mistake! I laughed so hard i nearly soiled my new slacks. It would seem that some woman called Katie Price/Jordan has gotten herself a 'nice' pair of comedy fish lips. Obviously the thought of looking like a Pete Burns doppleganger was no barrier. Methinks it could be one big cover-up. Maybe it wasn't plastic surgery at all. Maybe it's to do with her cage fighting hubby; Mike Read. Maybe he's been using wee Katie to practice for his next fight. It's not all bad news though, there's a possibility he might knock some sense into her, then again, she is from Wales!

Proper music...

.. from nice boys with clean clothes and combed hair. Unlike today's scruffy buggers!!

If it moves, ban it. If it don't move, ban it 'till it moves.

It's not often i 'cut-lose' and have a good olde rant, until now!

The new [no principles] ConDemn Government has come up with the idea of letting people have a say on which laws should be repealed. A good idea in theory, like most things politicians come up with no doubt. Err ... Well hows about getting rid of the law that says convicts can sue the government/taxpayer when refused Sky+ in their cells. Maybe it's the politicians that need changing not the law. Personally, I reckon we need more rules and regulations, such as...

1.Muffin tops. Since when have rolls of fat spilling out over a pair of kecks been attractive? Offenders should be given a full length mirror, a life-time restraining order from McDougal's and also be made to sign-on at a local police station twice a week to have their body mass index checked.

2.Pajama wearing shoppers. When, if ever, did it become acceptable to wander around a supermarket wearing discharge stained nightwear and slippers? Do these losers have any pride or self-respect? I've even seen these retards with my own eyes. They normally fall into a specific category... usually female...30 to 40....out of shape...slummy mummy types. Bearing in mind that most of their clothing is made in China, thus, highly flammable, i think a new law should be introduced, where, if spotted they should automatically be set on fire. 99% burns would be a big fashion improvement.

3.Women drivers. Now i'm all for equality and stuff but whoever decided to let women hold a drivers licence needs to be disemboweled with a pair of rusty garden shears. They drive too slow, clog up the roads, have no idea why box junctions have yellow hatch markings and even though they're driving a car the size of a dodgem they still can't squeeze through gaps wide enough to accommodate an aircraft carrier.

4.Child benefits. Scrap the lot. Far too many people these days poke out kids [benefit tokens] without a care in the world regarding the means to pay for them. Having kids is a privilege, not a right. If you want kids, fine, but don't expect others to feed and clothe them for you. The sooner these Jeremy Kyle rejects realise that having kids means they'll have to get off their arse's and find a job to pay for little Romeo's new bandanna and butterfly knife- the better.

5.Tramp stamps. Make them illegal. When did scarring yourself for life become cool? As a small child, if i drew on myself with a biro, i'd get my legs slapped. It would seem this form of punishment should be introduced to others lower down the social/mental food chain. True story....[ahem]....Many, many years ago a colleague came into work with a face on him like a smacked arse because his new 'squeeze' had gotten a tattoo. We gave him a bit of a ribbing when he said, ''i don't want to be going out with some bird with a tattoo, it'll be like i'm shagging a bloke.'' hhahaha.

6.Cheryl Cole. Send her water boarding at Guantanamo Bay. God only knows why the newspapers [hmm, can you call 'The Sun' a newspaper?] and WAG wannabe's are so infatuated with this osteoporosis bound non-entity. In recent days the press have been clogging up the front pages with sensationalist stories/crap of Cole being at deaths door after contracting malaria [probably just a publicity stunt]. I feel sorry for the mosquito that had the misfortune to bite her, or did she bite the mosquito? Apparently the side effects of malaria are many, they include; kidney failure, seizures, mental confusion, coma and even death. So pretty much the same symptoms as sitting through a Girls Aloud concert then!!

Rant over... [for now. heheh]

Proper music...

.. not like today's stuff where you can't even hear the chuffin' words.

Sun, sea and stupid people.

People can be so thick.

I'm not talking about [moving in] 2+2 or the capital of Monaco and stuff, but the real basics of life, ie: common sense. Some people have it, most don't. Some of the thickest people i've ever met are those with the longest list of qualifications. Years and years spent dodging 'real graft' by hiding out at College and Uni [taxpayer funded] only to end up working in Costa Coffee or Nando's.



Anyway, i digress. It would seem that whenever the sun comes out and people are near water, it has the side- effect of shrinking their brains. Like the stupid woman called Anna Baboy,29, who thought that on one of the hottest days of the year she'd have a can of lager [classy], do a spot of sunbathing on Brighton beach .... along with her 5 month old baby called.... er... Cosmo!!! Needless to say the baby suffered 40% burns. I can't decide whether Social Services should prosecute this excuse of a woman for neglect or for stigmatising a child with the name 'Cosmo.' Maybe it should be both? Maybe she should be sterilised via the rusty coat hanger method? One things for sure, with a mother like that i doubt if the kid will ever amount to anything in life, the odds just don't look good.

Yep, it really makes me wonder how people so stupid can actually make it through life sometimes. Cripes! only the other week i read another story about a chap who got pished as a fart and decided it to cool off by going for a swim. He cooled off alright... in the chiller at the local morgue. Add this to all the millions of idiots [usually at Skegness] that get swept miles out to sea on inflatable airbeds and innertubes. I'm sure the lifeboat chaps have better things to do than spend all day fishing out those 'tubes'. Instead of launching a lifeboat, maybe a helicopter gunship would be more beneficial and cost-effective. Use the fools for target practice, it'll be the only time they serve any real purpose in life.

Although it has to be said, those examples come way down on the ''Richter Scale of Idiots'' when compared to the fool in the clip below who thought it would be a good idea to defy onlookers by standing on the roof of a train .... and grab the overhead powerlines. What a bright spark !!!

For some people there is no hope.

proper music...

... not like this modern wrap music rubbish... sheeesh!!!

I've got the horn !?!!

No, not that kind of horn! You have a filthy mind. Besides, it's along time since there was any movement in that area i'll have you know, ahem. I'm of course talking about those damned vuvuzelas at the World Cup. As you know, i'm not the type of chap to moan about anything, but what kind of blithering idiot thought thousands of Africans blowing cheap plastic horns would be a good idea? Why, Nobby Stiles would be turning in his grave if he could see whats happened to our ''beautiful game.''

A global event turned into a farce i reckon. Fans and pundits spending more time talking about vuvu's than they do about football [not soccer]. For once in my life i wish i was a Scotchman. Yes.... i realise that in order to do that i'd have to; [a] wear a string vest [b] become an alcoholic racist [c] adopt the Proclaimers song '500 miles' as my national anthem, but at least then i wouldn't have a problem with these horns because Scotts never watch any World Cups games, primarily because they never participate in it. lol.

Anyway... i've now found a nifty way of overcoming the irritating drone of the vuvuzelas. Everytime the football starts i get out the vacuum cleaner and get busy. It drowns out the noise a treat and my carpets have never been so clean. The Shake 'n' Vac people are making some serious cash out of me this summer. At least when the football season starts in England we won't have to put up with that infernal racket. Although i did hear that some worried footy fans had read an article about the Nottingham Forest club shop buying 10,000 for next season. Such was the uproar that chairman Nigel Doughty had to issue a statement saying the entire story was pie in the sky as Forest don't even have 10,000 fans.

This country has officially gone to the dogs !!!

It really makes you wonder what this once fine country is coming to when a no-mark waster like Cheryl Cole/Tweedy can get an award for..... wait for it ...... ''Woman of The year.'' >insert belly laugh here<

One can only guess as to what the selection criteria was.

Maybe candidates were chosen for:

1. Who has the most orange face?

2. The worst weight problem?

3.Who is the vainest and most shallow?

4. Who wears thousands of ££'s worth of extensions whilst promoting hair care products?

5. Who has teeth so fake they look like they were purchased from B&Q?

6. Who got the worst conviction for launching a drunken attack on an innocent female toilet attendant?

7. Who married a cheating black footballer to save her image and avoid be branded a racist thug [see No.6].

Yep. That's one hell of an impressive CV for someone so thin and talentless.

Is it any wonder that impressionable young girls who look up to these vacuous non-entities grow up with so many issues regarding weight and poor self image? Oscar Wilde was once quoted as saying; ''We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." I guess we all know which way Tweedy is facing.

proper music....

....not like the rubbish they trot out nowadays.... pffffff

Come Dine With Me

I love it. Not just of the overall concept of the show but for the narration from Dave Lamb. As you know, i'm not a big fan of sarcasm as it's the lowest form of wit, so they say, but hey! Anyway... it got me thinking about hosting my own 'Celebrity Come Dine With Me' and who'd be the lucky souls to get the covetted golden invitations.

Now, apart from the grub, what's needed at a successful dinner party are a broad spectrum of guests. Firstly, you need someone who's very funny and can tell good jokes [so that's my role sorted out then, heheheheh]. Guest No.1 would have to be Pineapple Dance Studio's very own Louie Spence. He's like sunshine on a stick, nearly as flamboyant as moi and probably has bum cheeks just as firm ... ahem ??!!





Guest No2 would be Iranian comic Shappi Khorsandi. There's nothing more attractive than a strong, intelligent, confident, empowered, well-cultured woman ... plus she has a grrreat rack.



Guest number 3 would be someone like Lindsay Lohan. An out of control, coked-up [allegedly] Hollywood starlet would mean great entertainment and be able to regale us with tales of glitz, glamour and other dubious excesses. Plus, she'd be a real boon in the kitchen. It would save me the job of doing the washing up as Lindsay is more than qualified to lick the plates clean!!

Ba-dum-tishh

The road to nowhere ???

As something of an intelectual, i was reading an article in the local rag the other day regarding the ever increasing amount of traffic on our roads. Local 'experts' [i use the word 'expert' in the loosest sense of the word] were trotting out the usual bilge about cutting traffic by using car-share schemes and congestion charges. ie; pricing people off the roads.

Well maybe if public transport was up to muster, you know, reliable, clean and didn't cost an arm and a leg to use then people might start leaving their cars at home. Speaking personally, i never use public transport. It's cheaper for me to run a car, plus i don't have to put up sitting next to some smelly chav who has both hands jammed down the front of his trackie bottoms!!

Anyway..... as an intellectuall, this got me thinking of the best ways to reduce traffic, and i think i've got the solution. Just by banning all women off the roads will reduce congestion by over 50%, easy. Lets face it, most women don't even need a car in day to day life. Popping down to the shops to get something nice for hubby's tea does not require the use of a car.

Now, a tiny minority of bra burning feminists might say i'm being a tad sexist but in their heart of hearts they'll know i'm correct [a man always is]. And lets be honest about it, most women struggle to safely navigate a shopping trolley around Tesco's so driving a motor vehicle on the open highway simply doesn't bare thinking about!!

Nowt daft as folk

This has to be the best election we've had for decades.

Okay, when i say the best i probably mean the funniest. Peter 'Mandy' Mandelson giving scathingly dirty looks [off-camera] to journalists. The porn widow [Jaqui Smith] and Lembit Opic getting their P45's. To be fair i didn't mind Lembit too much as anyone that can put up with a Cheeky Girl singing in the shower must have balls of steel. Then there's poor Gordon Broon calling that old woman a bigot.. hhaahhah.

They were all funny, but what was funnier were the prize muppets who were told they couldn't vote because they 'rocked-up' at the Polling Stations during last orders then proceeded to throw their toys out t' pram. People had 15 hours to call in and cast their vote. What were they doing all day? looking for a clock? or maybe a brain cell?

I've never had any problems voting, just wandered in .... and wandered out again, simples yes? Now i'm all for democracy, but maybe it's better for everybody concerned if people born that stupid are made exempt from voting.

Politicians.... what a joke

While walking down the street one day an MP is hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in Heaven and is met by St Peter at the entrance. "Welcome to heaven," says St Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we‘re not sure what to do with you."

"No problem, just let me in," says the MP.

"Well, I‘d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."

"Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," says the MP.

"I’m sorry, but we have our rules." And with that, St Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to Hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress.


They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.

Also present is the Devil, who really is a very friendly, nice bloke who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They're having such a good time that before he realises it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises….


The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St Peter is waiting for him. "Now it’s time to visit Heaven." So, 24 hours pass with the MP joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realises it, the 24 hours have gone by and St Peter returns.

"Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity." The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers, "Well, I would never have said it before, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in Hell."

So St Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to Hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He see's all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the rubbish and putting it in black bags as more and more rubbish falls from above.

The Devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. "I don’t understand," stammers the MP, "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of rubbish and my friends look miserable. What happened?"

The Devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning…..today you voted."

Tidy house ... Tidy mind

I just don't know what's been wrong with me of late.

To quote David Brent; '' i've come over a little queer. ''

As you are aware, i'm usually such a positive, life-affirming chap who breezes through life casting goodwill to all who cross my path. But not at the mo. I can't put my finger on what's wrong. Maybe it's this credit crunch thing, social decay or the male menopause [about 20 years too late]. I've been thinking of trying that 'kitty kitty' stuff that everyone's going on about but seeming as i already rattle when i walk, i think i'll pass. Besides, i do like to think of my body as a temple of worship, especially for the ladies down at the local day centre.

One thing that did cheer me up happened whilst toiling down t'allotment the other day. I overheard a story on the local radio about misbehaving children. Someone rang in to say that a few years ago they were grounded because they'd put the gunpowder from some fireworks in an ashtray, resulting in their dad setting his arm on fire when stubbing out a ciggie !!

Well, it made me chuckle...

Anyway ... to try and cheer myself up i decided to give the homestead a good old clean from top to bottom. It's strange how housework can be almost therapeutic at times. I've now done the lot. The drawing-room, kitchen and even the bathroom. I've dusted, hoovered, done the ironing and made a Sunday dinner with Yorkshire puds to boot. Whoever said [probably a nagging woman] all us chaps are filthy beggars that can't do anything around the house are sadly mistaken.

Why, i even thought about washing the bed sheets, but seeming they were only changed at Christmas i figure they've still got a few more months left in them.

Poor me....

''My life is ruined'' screamed the headline from the downmarket rag.

So what's it all about (Alfie) ? Maybe it's bad news from a soldier that has been crippled by a roadside bomb, a newly orphaned child or someone terminally ill perhaps? .. err no ... not even close. Just the pathetic whinings of a £100,000 a week bi footballer who got dumped by some equally annoying WAG. Apparently he's thrown himself at her mercy, pleaded for forgiveness . Lets be frank here (don't call me Frank), if he's got any apologising to do then he should do it to the general public because no person on Gods earth should be made to witness the sight of C-Ashley Cole wearing a pair of Grandad pants and having a mouth like a ripped pocket !!

It seems to be the norm these days for micro 'celebs' and other wealthy types to constantly tell the world how hard their life is. Yes, i'm sure the paper cuts from counting all that lolly is a real bugger. People don't know they're born these days. Bye 'eck, when i were wee lad things really were tough. No shoes in the winter and 3 of us had to simultaneously squeeze into an old tin bath next to the fire, that was our only luxury. We had scurvy, rickets and T.B to contend with ... and that was just before breakfast !!

Broken Britain !!!

I'm not a man who likes to complain, but i sometimes wonder what has become of this once fine land. Nowadays, old people who default on their council tax are quickly jailed but hoody gang members who carry knives are given community service or an ASBO. Cancer patients die because they can't afford to buy their own drugs but people who stuff themselves with lard-pies get gastric band operations because they have no will power. Prisoners get legal aid to sue the government because they dont have cable TV in their cells whilst OAP's in hospital die of malnutrition. And don't even get me started on those parasitic MP's !!

Anyway.... the other day i stumbled across an article in a newspaper comments section [damn those new slippers]. It sums up this country to an absolute tee.


My 25 years of tax count for nothing


'' I was born and bred in this country and used to be proud of being British but my faith is waning.

Being employed for the last 25 years and paying tax, NI etc, i assumed that if i was made redundant, i would be entitled to some benefits.

How wrong could i be, especially as i was in a high tax bracket.

First the Jobcentre tried income-support but i was not eligible because my wife works part-time.

They have managed to get me Jobseeker's allowance at £65 per week for six months.

I applied for tax credits only to be told i am not eligible unless i remained unemployed until the new tax year starts as i earned too much last year. The fact i have no income now does not matter.

I then applied for free school meals for my daughter. I think you have probably guessed what they said. I was turned down. The Jobcentre refused to sign the application form as i am on contribution-based Jobseeker's allowance and not on income-based Jobseeker's allowance, but in six months i will be eligible. In the meantime i will have to pay £40 a month from my Jobseeker's allowance.

Also, i am not entitled to help with my mortgage payments for three months.

I even asked to go on a CAD training course. A local firm had been advertising for months wanting designers [which is my trade] but, you guessed it, i am not eligible for six months.

About 18 years ago, i was in a similar position and tried to get on a training course, but i was told i could not go on it for six months. there were exemptions though, if you were disabled, an immigrant or just out of prison. Also the maximum training costs you can apply for are £500, so when training costs £300 a day, i won't get much training.

The Jobcentre has said an adviser will contact me about training courses but i'm not holding my breath.

When i tell people that after paying tax etc for 25 years, i am not entitled to anything they don't believe me. I wish i could opt out of paying these contributions.''


THE END.


Don't we all mate . . . Don't we all.

Reality bites..

Whatever happened to proper telly?

I remember those nights after a hard days toil down at t' allotment. Coming home being greeted by our Gert with a bottle of stout, some ham & eggs for tea and then settling back into my favourite armchair for a spot of evening telly. The 'yoof' of today don't know what they're missing. Proper telly back then you know. The Generation Game with Larry 'shut that door' Grayson, Blankety Blank and Beadle's About. All compulsive viewing. What do we get nowadays? Just cheap, boring rubbish aimed at the chav / giro baby generation. Luckily for me, being a senior citizen makes me exempt from paying the licence fee, thank God. Just a quick squint down the TV listings page reveals a plethora of vulgar, insipid reality TV shows such as... Britain's Best Butcher. Celebrity Chain Smokers. The Farm (see pic). The Salon. Celebrity masterchef. Come Dancing. Britain's Best Vet. Big Brother. Stars On Ice. Hell's Kitchen. Pop Factor.

To be frank (that's not my name btw) i've had enough of this bilge and will be contacting my local MP- George Galloway, to complain in the strongest terms possible. It's an outrage i tell you, and i'm taking a stand on this matter, even if it kills me!

What's that you say.

''there's another reality show just started, it's called 'Pop Star to Opera Star' hosted by the lovely Katherine Jenkins.''

Well, i for one won't be coerced into viewing this 'crud'. All those years spent fighting in the war relying on hand to hand combat in the jungle (never once folding under torture) means i'm made of stronger stuff, i'll have you know.

Now..... where the flaming hell did i put the TV Times!! *cough*

Oooh i've still got it Patsy, it never left me.

It's finally arrived !!

I've been waiting for some time and now it's here. I'm of course talking about my zit! Boy it's big (not often i say that). I think it has it's own micro climate. So big i can see it as i look downwards. Fantastic. Those annoying teenagers get spots and i'm gonna wear mine with pride, really show it off like an Olympic gold medal ... 'bruv'.

Maybe i'm starting to regain my youth? Kipper ties, Kevin Keegan style perm, winkle-pickers and oodles of pent up sexual frustration! If i'm honest i haven't changed that much from my days as a young whippersnapper. Yep you're right, i used to cut quite a figure down at the 'Talk Of The Town' and Gaumont come friday night. Sigh.. who am i kidding, those days are long gone just like the shoes, ties and my olde footballer's perm (these days i'd happily settle for just something to comb) and the sexual frustration ... yep ... that's still going strong!!

I guess there are some things in life that never change..

We're all doomed !!!

Well i couldn't believe my 'mince pies'. The shelves at the local shop had been stripped bare. Outside i heard a commotion. People running around like headless chickens. A woman ran across the street screaming like a mad banshee then proceeded to set herself on fire!! (OK, a slight exaggeration there). What was happening? A nuclear war perhaps or maybe the arrival of the Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse?!! Err... no, a few flakes of snow falling from the sky. What's wrong with people these days? Have all those years slobbing out on greasy take-away meals watching rubbish reality TV gone and dissolved people's backbones?

When i was a lad, i'd walk miles to get to school in PROPER snow. Not once was my school closed. The heating always worked, most of the teachers made it into class (no fancy 4x4's in them days) and Ted the Caretaker would cut a deep channel through the snow and grit the paths... all before 8:30am. Nowadays teachers (and kids) will use any excuse for a day off. Clearly the 10-12 weeks holiday they already get during the rest of the school year isn't enough.

Churchill would be turning in his grave if he could see the state this country is in. I say what's needed is a dose of National Service. By Jove, that would straighten up those backbones and sort out them hoodie ruffians. Yes, it never did me or my chums any harm. Although Corporal Dobson did get bayonet'd in the testicles during a drunken prank in the army mess hall .. !!?

The heat is on. Well nearly..

I'm not happy!!

Unbelievable but true. My usual bubbly persona has all but evaporated. Shock horror. But why, you may ask?

Well.... About 6 months ago 'Colin' the combi-boiler coughed and spluttered his last few droplets of hot water and passed away. Bless him. Me being a bloke, i've long since decided things like: toothpaste, deodorant, new clothes, hot water and central heating are the preserve of rich people and as such extravagant luxuries i could easily do without. Afterall, people did OK without these little things a 100 years ago, so what's the big deal?

Everything was going fine until this December when the cold spell hit. As you know, i'm not one for complaining but i was starting to feel the heat a little (or should that be- cold?). No problem. What's wrong with wearing a bobble hat in bed, it's not a fashion parade is it? And besides, in a few days the weather will be back to normal. The Government are always going on about global warming and stuff. Surely they wouldn't lie to people just to rake in more taxes, would they?


Fast forward to the New Year. It's now the coldest spell we've had for about 200 years but i'm still remaining strong, holding out for warmer weather but by now Casa Heckles is like a f-f-f-flaming ice-box. So cold infact (ironically) the fridge freezer has stopped working, gone into hibernation mode. Who's ever heard of it being to cold for a fridge? You'd of thought they'd love it, you know, less work to do.

So now the man that couldn't be beaten by the Luftwaffe and Hitler has admitted defeat to a defrosting fridge. Ohh the shame! I've now got to wait untill next week for installation (you see, it'll be warm outside by then). As i said before, i just don't like frittering away hard earned cash on expensive, frivolous luxuries that aren't necessary. If George Best was alive i'd sell him a kidney because it's costing me 3o cups of tea and circa £1700!! Oh well, bang goes that new pool table for the front bedroom.. pfffft

What's it all about. Alfie?

Don't call me Alfie, that's not my name.

It's Heckles, Mr.Heckles to you!

So what's it all about, blogging that is? Is it just for needy computer geeks who've grown tired of looking at porn all day or people on the dole with too much free time? Who knows? Who cares? One thing is for sure. Most blogs seem to be written by the dullest of people regarding the most inane and tedious of subject matter. My aim is to continue this modus operandi with vigour!