Archive for April, 2010

Monday, April 26th, 2010

Paul Morley

Another episode in an occasional series of chance encounters with Northern Celebrities:
A fourth encounter, with Mr Paul Morley, child of Stockport, member of 80’s beat combo Art of Noise and all round media Kooldude. Paul was sitting nonchalantly on a bench on platform 8 at Euston Station. Dressed casually in black (his couleur de choix) from head to toe (mercifully the yellow and black trainers from a previous encounter were nowhere to be seen). Paul was looking pretty good and appears to have lost some weight. The vegetarian diet seems to be paying off.

This latest sighting was not too very far from the location of the previous one, confirming my earlier stalker like conclusion that Paul must reside in this part of London. I again beg to reassure him, for I know he religiously reads this blog, that I am not stalking him but merely exercising my natural rubberneck tendencies in the presence of Them That Are Off The Telly. And, following my earlier sartorial advice, I’m pleased to see you’ve smartened yourself up and had a decent haircut and a shave. Keep it up Your Koolness.
Previous episodes herehere and here
As this is now the fourth encounter of the Morley kind I feel it is fitting to give him his own category. Dare I approach him for an autograph next time? I think I may.

Snickers

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

I have, three times, applied to run the London Marathon and each time I have been rejected. They do not give you a reason for being rejected but I think it was probably due to a combination of not being demographically unusual enough ( late 30s / early 40s, white male, respectable race time ) such that I was in competition with vast numbers of similar applicants. Had I been 65, one legged and dressed in a parrot costume I’d have stood a far better chance of the gaining the ‘privilege’ of running in one of the world’s great races. Since my last application failed a few years back I’ve not bothered trying again. The running shoes have been gathering dust, the joints have become creaky; age is taking its toll on my physiology and psychology. Frankly, the thought of running the London Marathon now is losing its appeal. The wisdom of my position was confirmed to me earlier today when I happened to find myself at the finish line of the aforesaid event several hours after the TV cameras had gone home along with most of the participants. As the army of support workers dismantled everything in sight, hoovered up vast amounts of litter and raced to return Queenie’s front yard to it’s usual stately state a small slice of the Marathon continued to play out in the early evening sunshine. First, an old man (and I mean old – 65 at least) hobbled into view making for the rapidly disappearing finish line still wearing his race number, his spindly old legs powering him onwards to personal glory 8 hours after leaving Greenwich. Second, as I wandered through Hyde Park, walking towards me, a steady stream of apparently disabled people shuffling painfully along. The only sign of their true, Marathon maimed status – their red plastic kit bags slung over their shoulders or carried by supportive friends and partners trying not to walk too fast lest they leave the hobbled charge behind. Every one bore the expression of pained exhaustion; 26 miles worth of it. Later on as I approached Westminster Bridge, a Ronald McDonald lookalike, complete with race number, jogged past through a corridor of spontaneous applause from the crowded pavement. It’s a crazy thing these people do to themselves. The elite runners and the vast masses who finish during the TV broadcast are impressive enough ambassadors for human endeavour. But, for the first time today, I witnessed first hand the indomitable resilience of those who’ll never get on the telly. They’re doing it because they started it and they’re bloody well going to finish it. Me, I’ve never started it yet. I’m almost a ‘veteran’, registration for 2011 opens May 4th… I wonder, am I crazy enough?

Saturday, April 24th, 2010

Benedickt condoms

It looks like the forthcoming Papal visit could be a far more interesting affair than that of his predecessor.

Saturday, April 17th, 2010

David Cameron anecdote generator

Need a handy Daily Mail soundbite?
Why not try the David Cameron anecdote generator?

Brilliant Britain

Thursday, April 15th, 2010

Party Election Broadcasts are not really my thang.
Regular readers will know that embedded YouTube videos are not my thang either; I’ve never done ‘em… but I’m making an exception just once.
Eddie Izzard tells it like it is; subtle, intelligent and true.
Well done Eddie.

Thursday, April 15th, 2010

Unfortunately named vasectomy specialists: no 1
Dr Dick Chopp

Dear Marje

Thursday, April 8th, 2010

Dear Marje

I’ve always been a big fan of certain high street store.
These are the things I like about them:

Good quality merchandise.
Good customer service.
Sexually suggestive adverts for food.
Wide selection of knickers in all capacities and configurations.
Gusset guarantee.
Individual foil wrapped delicious chocolate digestives that remind me of when I was 6.
Hand polished strawberries that taste of strawberry.
Soft bread for pensioners with no teeth (I am not one of them).
Employed Twiggy  when she was about to join Eastenders in desperation .
Nice Swiss chocolate in  bulk packs.
Giant photos of fish and chips next to the tills.

These are the things I don’t like about them:

Their Executive Chairman has revealed himself to be a raving Tory nutjob.

As a raving unreconstructed socialist loony leftie, I now feel the urge to boycott the store so as to make a protest against the unacceptable intrusion of politics into my underwear. The only trouble with this is that I would miss the chocolate. A lot.

What should I do Marje? As you were also a lifelong raving unreconstructed socialist loony leftie I’m sure you can help.

Yours drD

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

Vote for toffs

Tuesday, April 6th, 2010

Vote Labour or else - Gpd knows, we need all the help we can get.more

Saturday, April 3rd, 2010
Blake Carrington Farewell Blake.
You had blue hair.
And were a bit wooden.
You married a bitch and later
Princess Krystal von Sparklytits of Krystalania.
You always had the same expression.
What a man.