Only after living with me for three months due to her general state of ‘penury’, did my cousin Dot (short for Dorothy) tell me I was impossible to live with. “David,” she said. “Any woman who marries you will shortly thereafter find she has no option but to commit suicide!” I replied, “Well the sooner the better. I need the room!” Jeez folks, talk about beggars being choosers! The very last thing I said to Dot was, “Follow the yellow brick road…right out of my house!”
Talk about an accident waiting to happen! Yes folks, is there no ‘beginning’ to British ingenuity? A fully licensed bar is part of plans at Westerleigh Crematorium in south Gloucestershire to open a bereavement suite that will host post-funeral gatherings. Those who run the crematorium may well hope to cater for parties looking for a simple, dignified event after a funeral, but the best laid schemes of mice and men…etcetera, etcetera! Once sufficient alcohol has been consumed, blood is likely to be spilled when drunk family members and friends drag up long simmering grievances. What of the noise from crematorium hospitality, raucous bar fights? I bet it will be loud enough to…wake the dead, or at the very least, turn him in his urn? Why if this idea trends, police and paramedic ‘call-outs’ will go through the roof, along with smoke from crematorium chimneys!
The London Fire Brigade have launched a Star Wars themed advertising campaign to reduce some of the time-wasting call-outs, particularly from those individuals who suffer distress having put rings on their penises and handcuffed parties to sex games. So if you find yourself suffering from metal fatigue, don’t fatigue firefighters, take yourself off to A & E and join the idiot queue! ‘With this ring I thee…suffer!’
Due to an existing contractual dispute over studio recordings, singer Kesha has set up an all-male band called ‘Yeast Infection’. I wonder if she has a burning desire to have a number one…hit that is?
Stability, yes, but choice, not really! Here in Britain, when a Conservative Government loses a general election, it is usually because they are seen as elitist and uncaring. When a Labour Government loses an election, it is usually because the economy is in a mess due to over borrowing and the introduction of poor economic measures. It is not so much that a shadow government wins a general election, but that a sitting Government loses it! Come the 2020 general election, it is more than likely the Conservative Government will be ousted, and the Labour Party will get back in (even with Jeremy Corbyn at the helm), whether David Cameron remains Conservative Party leader or not! It is unlikely many people in the flooded North of England will put an ‘X’ by the name of any Conservative candidate. By the time a Labour Government has wrecked the economy again (out of control borrowing, re-nationalising industries, inflation), the Conservatives will be re-elected in 2025! Remember, ‘a week is a long time in politics.’ Anything can happen, and it often does!
England’s chief medical officer, Dame Sally Davies has warned gonorrhoea could become untreatable after hospitals discovered a rise of a drug-resistant strain of the sexually transmitted infection. Jeez, no wonder Ken & Barbie split up! The rise of sexually transmitted diseases in several age groups has been attributed to the ease of online dating…hooking up, swinging, etcetera, etcetera! Frankly, until new antibiotics are created, it may be prudent to practice
I know it’s a chore, but frankly I don’t mind sending out dozens of Christmas cards if it means I don’t actually have to meet up with the recipients, only to hear how well or badly the year has treated them! I’m sick and tired of congratulating or commiserating with people who probably won’t come to my funeral. If posting greetings cards actually keeps people at arm’s length, the effort is well worth my time! Merry f**king Christmas!
This year it was my turn to host Christmas lunch for friends and family. Having sat glued to the Professional MasterChef TV competition, I was inspired to embrace my imagination and provide a quite different Christmas fare to the usual, so out went the Turkey, the goose and the ham. Have you ever tried a slow cooked beef joint coated in marzipan with a liquorice gravy? Well my advice is, don’t! Can you believe I didn’t receive a single stomach pump in my Christmas presents? So it was off to A & E for the lot of us. On the up side, I won’t be asked to host Christmas lunch again!
What can one buy for a woman who has everything? More than once, my filthy rich, sexually active Grandma Pearl has threatened to leave her entire fortune earned from drug trafficking, to charity! To ensure she doesn’t forget me in her will, I racked my brain and scoured the earth to find her a Christmas present she could enjoy, week in, week out. Bereft of ideas, I finally went online to discover a site dedicated to useful gizmos for senior citizens. Well, you should have seen Grandma Pearl’s eyes well up when she lifted the lid on a box containing…anal beads! “Granny,” I said, “they’re made of silicone, so they’re dishwasher safe!” I certainly know how to feather my nest. Let’s hope Pearl remembers to do the same!
That’s right folks, I sincerely wish you all ‘a-penis’ over this Christian festive period, a unique period of the year when most of us rush around like headless chickens desperately seeking, not Susan, but seasonal bargains to replace last years seasonal bargains, and food enough to feed an army, an army of relatives many of whom we don’t really want to see! And please spare a thought for the vast army of Shinto slaves in China who sweat buckets in order to make our Western Christian festival possible! And for those of you down on your luck, who cannot cope with a-penis, chin up, things can only get better…or worse! Between global warming and rising sea levels, many of us may not be here, or anywhere next year, so eat heartily and drink up, and don’t forget to tell your nearest and dearest what you actually think of them! Hey, I’m just the messenger, don’t shoot me, after all, it’s not my fault Father Christmas turned out to be a paedophile! Me? Well I’m off to Buckingham Palace to steal a game pie!
English: Harrods Department Store as viewed from the north-east along Brompton Road, in London, England. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Last week I popped into London to do a wee bit of Christmas shopping. Having brought myself a shirt at Harrods department store in Knightsbridge…a shirt I probably won’t be able to get into come February…I stopped off at one of the many restaurants for a coffee and a piece of cake. Getting up to leave, I spotted Samantha, a lady a hadn’t clapped eyes on for eleven whole years. She had two young children in tow. The back story! Samantha and I had spent six wonderful weeks together in the summer of 2004. It had been lust at first sight for both of us. Samantha’s then followed her parents abroad and I never heard from her again, until that was I spotted her in Harrods queuing for refreshments. Having introduced me to her children as an old friend, we briefly exchanged pleasantries. It wasn’t until this morning that I put my hand in my coat pocket to retrieve a lighter. Someone had slipped a business card in it! Samantha Wordsworth, ‘Interior designer’. I won’t be phoning her. The past is another country, is it not? I’m happy to be left with my memories, pleasant memories I shall take to my grave!
Liar, liar, pants on fire! It cannot come as any surprise, in recent years confidence in and respect for politicians of all political persuasions is at an all time low! I have therefore written to the BBC Director General suggesting the Corporation airs a show called ‘Party Political Strictly Come dancing’, in which the leaders of all political parties, having slipped into Cuban heels and Lady Janes compete against one another for a ballroom trophy, and the right to occupy 10 Downing Street! With so much at stake, I feel sure no politician will be backward in putting their best foot forward. Oh, I’ve just been informed, an outbreak of fleckles has nothing whatsoever to do with a sexually transmitted disease, but a great deal to do with a particular dance step! Huh, who would have known?
On a much more serious note folks, I have an idea on we might combat electoral apathy. What the country needs is a different kind of voter. Bearing in mind there are 8.5 million dogs in the UK, 7.4 million cats and 1 million wabbits, how about enfranchising the lot of them, after all, our pets are just as likely to understand political double-talk as you or I? Since all we bipeds need do is make a selection using a ‘X’ on the ballot paper, our devoted animals could do the same using an inkpad and a paw print? Furthermore, what’s wrong with the idea of a British Bull dog running MI6? And before you ask, no, I haven’t been smoking wacky backy, but I am about to!
That erudite and sophisticated television chat show host Jonathan Ross, when asked to sign up for Strictly Come Dancing replied, “It just wouldn’t be fair to the other celebrity contestants. I’m so agile, as a gazelle in fact, and so, so f**king popular, never mind the ‘living’ voting for me, why even the ‘dead’ would dig themselves out their graves just to register their votes!”
Dancers Vernon and Irene Castle. Gelatin silver print. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Hot off the Press! President Obama’s nuclear talks with North Korea’s childish leader Kim Jong Un were postponed at the last-minute so that baby Kim could attend the live semi-final of North Korea’s ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ television programme. One of the male ballroom dancers, Ding Dong Un, affectionately known as ‘Roger’ had just come from a military training exercise and went straight onto the dance floor in military uniform, with his AK47 slung over his left shoulder. In the middle of a Foxtrot the machine-gun inexplicably fired straight into the floor causing Roger’s female dance partner to break into an impromptu tapdance. The couple was disqualified, and later shot!
Rose Darcey Bussell バラ ダーシー・バッセル (Photo credit: T.Kiya)
OOH I say, have you seen what some of the female dancers have been wearing on Strictly Come Dancing recently…or rather, what they are not wearing? It really is a feast to the pornographic eye, isn’t it! The show is becoming more of a porn fest every year, not that I’m complaining! I’m seriously thinking of changing my TV for one with a sharper picture.
I didn’t agree with the BBC’s decision to sack choreographer Arlene Phillips. The lady has a lifetime’s worth of dance knowledge, and her critiques were both detailed and valid. Miss Phillip’s most recent replacement, retired ballerina Darcey Bussell is really quite easy on the eye, isn’t she? However, she is a bit of an appeaser. No matter how awful the celebrity dancer is, darling Darcey always manages to avoid slagging off their efforts! I bet if the Devil himself performed, darling Darcey would offer him kind words too. “Nice extension Satan…great facial expressions throughout the Paso Doble…good hoof work too! Mind you don’t burn up the dance floor! But on the whole, a good effort!”