Halloween Part Three (The final showdown)

If only we had better things to do than this. I could be doing some lovely crochet work. I could be doing the sun coffee time cross word, cutting my toenails, making balls out of elestic bands the postman drops outside my gaff everyday. I could actually do some work. There are so many things I could be doing instead of writing, like sleeping. Hey ho such is the life of a compulsive writer.

Halloween part 2 (The Revenge)

It's nearly Halloween so here's a picture for you. I'm too tired to write much more about it. Or anything else for that matter. I've had a shit load of problems with my PC that's kept me up til the small hours trying to fix them. Adware, Spyware, fucking AOL crashing on me. I've got to sleep. There's another day tomorrow.

iPod now playing - No More Heroes by The Stranglers.

Shorts

A friend of mine came to the shop yesterday. He was telling me how his five year old Grandson was absolutely terrified of thunder and lightening. A couple of weeks ago him and his grandson were driving across the fens. In the distance my friend Angus saw lightening. He was worried that if the boy noticed it he'd start screaming and thrashing about in the van. The boy noticed.
"Is that Lightening Grandad." asked the boy in a worried tone.
Quick thinking was needed. "No boy that's just speed cameras for airplanes."
"Oh that's all right then." the boy settled down for a while happy with the answer then a few minutes later "Grandad. How do they keep the speed cameras up in the air?"
"Balloons son."

How's this for the most stupid man of the year prize. At our pub there's this guy who habitually goes to the gents, and while there lights up a cigarette. He does this in the following manner. Unzips, takes out downstairs member of parliament, then leaving it to do it's own thing get out his fags and while he's having a wee he lights up. It's like taking your hands off the handle bars of a bike while you're cycling. Something is going to go wrong sometime. Well this time it did. He was a tad wibbly, OK a lot wibbly, and did it in the wrong order. Something must have distracted him because he stood at the free standing urinals and lit up his fag, quite forgetting that he hadn't taken out his willy first. The first we knew of this event was when we heard.
"Oh fuck! Shit! Bastard." coming from the gents and matey boy running out the pub his trousers soaked.

I had a customer come into the shop monday. She was moaning. "I've had a bad day" she said.
"Really? what's the matter?"
"Everything is going wrong. It started yesterday."
"What did?" I asked trying to show compassion.
"A relative died yesterday."
"Oh I'm sorry to hear that."
"So was I. I had to miss the Eastenders* omnibus edition."
"Couldn't they have died another day?" I asked taking the piss just a little. The compassion factor disappearing fast.
"You'd have thought it would have been possible. Any other day great, but to die on a Sunday just when I want to watch Eastenders is very inconsiderate."
"That's terrible. So what did you do?"
"well I had to phone round all my friends and see if any of them had recorded it."
"Why didn't you record it?"
"My relative died. I couldn't record it, what do you think? I'm totally heartless or something?"
NO comment.

*for our american friends Eastenders is a soap opera.

Anyway this morning I should, in theory, be wrecked. I mean I didn't get in from the pub until 3.30am. You see last night I had my music club which I run and I'd just got my coat on and was about to go out the door to come home when in walks a long lost friend. Well he asked me to stop and have a drink with him, even though they'd called time and were locking up. I had to say yes if only to be polite. Well we had a drink and then another and there was this huge bottle of South African five star brandy on the table and the Barman cleared off home and the landlord said "I'm off to bed. Serve yourselves sling the money on the side. Lock up on your way out." So at 3:00 am I'm pulling my own pint. Steve is raiding the Jack Daniels and Mike is in the chiller cabinet getting the mixers for the Brandy. I paid for mine. Honest. Though I can't vouch for the others. Knowing Steve he probably trousered the cash I left on the side for the landlord.

Rock on dudes


iPod now playing Whiskey in the Jar by Thin Lizzy

Zen and the Art of Self Discovery

The voting went as follows. Approx
50% Toby
30% CCTV
20% Hungry joe

I declare Toby the winner and God help the lot of you. You asked for it so here it is. And you thought it would be a sweet innocent story. It's another Willy story........ hoorah!

Zen and the Art of Self Discovery

For a change this story didn’t involve me, but a friend of mines brother and sister. My friend Robert is a very clever lad, he comes from a clever family, Mother and father both very intelligent, his younger sister, Bethany, quite bright, but his younger brother Toby… well, let’s say he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. In fact he was so stupid Robert and Bethany had some choice nick names for him, but in this enlightened age I won’t repeat them as they were definitely not PC.
One evening Bethany was in her bedroom, when young Toby came rushing in.
“Bethany, Bethany Look.”
Toby had just discovered that his willy (Yes folks it’s a willy story) had a mind of it’s own, and with a bit of manipulation, could grow and grow, and get hard. Amazing!
Toby was thrilled and just had to show Bethany his new discovery. So he ran into her room in his Jim Jams, clutching his hard on, that was poking through his winceyettes.
“Look Bethany Look.”
“Take it away Toby, you’re disgusting.” But he wasn’t to be put off. This was a discovery worthy of Newton or Einstein, not that Toby would have ever heard of either of those. But to Toby it was an earth shattering revelation. The world was going to be a better place. Cancer would be cured and third world poverty a thing of the past.
“Touch it, Bethany touch it.” he pleaded, offering it up to her so she could be amazed too. How could he keep a thing as important as this, to himself?
Bethany reached over and grabbed her nightie that was laid on the bed and in one swift flick whipped Toby with it. Now the sound of a cracked whip that you hear, is in fact the end of the whip breaking the sound barrier. So it was that a button on Bethanys nightie, flying at supersonic speed, caught poor Toby right on the bell end. He doubled up, screaming in agony. His screams brought mother upstairs, who found young Toby whimpering in the corner of Bethanys room holding onto his injured manhood.
“What’s the matter?” asked Mother.
Toby showed his mum, his now deflated pride and joy, all red and bleeding.
“How on earth did you do that?”
“Bethany did it.”
He never attempted to show Bethany his new toy again, although he did a load of other stuff but then that's another story.............

iPod now playing - Have you ever fallen in love by The Buzzcocks

You wanted willies

I know you want it. You know you want it. And you can have it too, using a little basic deduction and a process of elimination. What can you have? Well this week for your delight and delectation I have six stories for you to vote on. Subjects covered will be Willies, hard core pornography, death destruction, mutilation, sex, more sex, deception, tragedy. By public demand more willy stories had to be written, now it's up to you to figure out which ones they are, you've had enough clues over the weeks to narrow it down to a fifty fifty choice. but to help you out some more I'll tell you that 2 of the six stories involve sex. So you've got a thirty three and a third percent chance by random guessing. One will have you reaching for the kleenex...... now then behave...... it's a tragic story, the kleenex is for drying your eyes.
So here's this weeks choices:

Nose bags- Uncle Vodka designs a nasal strap on device to catch snot.

Hungry Joe - A race against time to save the world not even James Bond could cope.

Pheasant - A day in the life of a peasant. Sorry Pheasant.

Flies - A life in a day of a fly. Sorry flies.

CCTV - Big brother is watching you. Sorry you is watching Big Brother.

Toby - We all have our crosses to bare. Sorry bear. Very sorry bare.

So get voting, you know it makes sense, the future of the civilised world depends on you and your vote. What you do now could change the face of humanity for ever. The story that gets most votes or indeed any votes at all will be published Tuesday (tomorrow).

Vote on dudes

iPod now playing - The drugs don't work by The Verve

Smart arse one liners

1. Now that food has replaced sex in my life, I can't even get into my own pants.

2. Marriage changes passion. Suddenly you're in bed with a relative.

3. I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with "Guess" on it. So I said "Implants?" She hit me.

4. I don't do drugs. I get the same effect just standing up fast.

5. Sign in a Chinese Pet Store: "Buy one dog, get one flea..."

6. I live in my own little world. But it's OK. They know me here.

7. I got a sweater for Christmas. I really wanted a screamer or a moaner.

8. If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?

9. I don't approve of political jokes. I've seen too many of them get elected.

10. There are two sides to every divorce: Yours and Sh!thead's.

11. I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.

12. I am a nobody, and nobody is perfect; therefore, I am perfect.

13. Everyday I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive days I have stayed alive.

14. How come we choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America?

15. Isn't having a smoking section in a restaurant like having a peeing section in a swimming pool?

16. Why is it that most nudists are people you don't want to see naked?

17. Snowmen fall from Heaven unassembled.

18. Every time I walk into a singles bar I can hear Mom's wise words: Don't pick that up, you don't know where it's been!"

19. A good friend will come and bail you out of jail...but, a true friend will be sitting next to you saying, "Damn..that was fun!"

20. I signed up for an exercise class and was told to wear loose-fitting clothing. If I HAD any loose-fitting clothing, I wouldn't have signed up in the first place!

21. When I was young we used to go "skinny dipping," now I just "chunky dunk."

22. The worst thing about accidents in the kitchen is eating them.

23. Don't argue with an idiot; people watching may not be able to tell the difference.

24. Wouldn't it be nice if whenever we messed up our life we could simply press 'Ctrl Alt Delete' and start all over?

25. Stress is when you wake up screaming and then you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet.

26. My husband says I never listen to him (at least I think that's what he said).

27. Just remember...if the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off.

28. If raising children was going to be easy, it never would have started with something called LABOUR!

29. Wouldn't you know it...Brain cells come and brain cells go, but FAT cells live forever.

30. You know one of my greatest assetts is my modesty.

iPod now playing - Germ free adolescence by Xray specs

Foot in the mouth

I've got to share these with you.


DON'T PUT YOUR FOOT IN MOUTH

Here are the testimonials of a few people who did...........................

I walked into a hair salon with my husband and three kids in tow and asked loudly, "How much do you charge for a shampoo and a blow job?" I turned around and walked back out and never went back. My husband didn't say a word... he knew better.
___________________________________________________________

I was at the golf store comparing different kinds of golf balls. I was unhappy with the women's type I had been using. After browsing for several minutes, I was approached by one of the good-looking gentleman who works at the store. He asked if he could help me. Without thinking, I looked at him and said, "I think I like playing with men's balls."

_____________________________________________________________

My sister and I were at the mall and passed by a store that sold a variety of candy and nuts. As we were looking at the display case, the boy behind the counter asked if we needed any help. I replied, "No, I'm just looking at your nuts." My sister started to laugh hysterically, the boy grinned, and I turned beet-red and walked away. To this day, my sister has never let me forget. _________________________________________________________________

While in line at the bank one afternoon, my toddler decided to release some pent-up energy and ran amok. I was finally able to grab hold of her after receiving looks of disgust and annoyance from other patrons. I told her that if she did not start behaving "right now" she would be punished. To my horror, she looked me in the eye and said in a voice just as threatening, "If you don't let me go right now, I will tell Grandma that I saw you kissing Daddy's pee-pee last night!" The silence was deafening after this enlightening exchange. Even the tellers stopped what they were doing. I mustered up the last of my dignity and walked out of the bank with my daughter in tow. The last thing I heard when the door closed behind me were screams of laughter. _______________________________________________________________

Have you ever asked your child a question too many times? My three-year-old son had a lot of problems with potty training and I was on him constantly. One day we stopped at Taco Bell for a quick lunch in between errands. It was very busy, with a full dining room. While enjoying my taco, I smelled something funny, so of course I checked my seven-month-old daughter, and she was clean. Then I realized that Danny had not asked to go potty in ! a while, so I asked him if he needed to go, and he said "No." I kept thinking, "Oh Lord, that child has had an accident, and I don't have any clothes with me. " Then I said, "Danny, are you SURE you didn't have an accident?"
"No," he replied. I just KNEW that he must have had an accident, because the smell was getting worse. Soooooo, I asked one more time, "Danny, did you have an accident?" This time he jumped up, yanked down his pants, bent over and spread his cheeks and yelled. "SEE MOM, IT'S JUST FARTS!!" While 30 people nearly choked to death on their tacos laughing! He calmly pulled up his pants and sat down. An old couple made me feel better by thanking me for the best laugh they'd ever had! _________________________________________________________________

This had most of the state of Michigan laughing for 2 days and a very embarrassed female news anchor who will, in the future, likely think before she speaks. What happens when you predict snow but don't get any....a true story... We had a female news anchor who, the day after it was supposed to have snowed and didn't, turned to the weatherman and asked: "So Bob, where's that 8 inches you promised me last night?" Not only did HE have to leave the set, but half the crew did too they were laughing so hard!

To Mick and Jack

This post is specifically for Mick and Jack


It's very easy to see the right thing to do in retrospect. I totally agree with you, that that is what should have been done. It's a tough call, but I am not a violent person. I could have called the police. I could have done so many things but I didn't. I hold my hand up and admit it. I suppose I'm weak when it comes to confrontation like that. My only thought at the time was he was in shit street big time. I felt sorry for him and didn't want to make things worse. I am not the judge and jury. At the same time I was terrified he would take some innocent out with him. During our conversation I tried to reason with him. I didn't report all the conversation just the salient facts that he agreed that it would be a very bad thing, at that point I thought I'd got the message over. I meet so many people and some of them are really scary. I get to the point when I wonder who is normal? what is normal? Are psychopaths normal? It's a scary world we live in. There are so many nutters out there. People you have known for years turn out to have dark secrets. A guy working for me many years ago was banged up for paedophilia. I couldn't believe it. On the surface he was so straight so normal. He was sorted out in prison. The next time I saw him he didn't have any teeth. He'd been beaten so often in prison. When he went in he was vibrant, full of life, but when he came out he was a ghost. He could barely talk to me. He had no explanation, no apologies, just that he was innocent and always had been. He didn't ask for his job back. I didn't offer it. I still to this day don't know whether he was guilty or not. What I do know was he was never the same again. He was destroyed. He would never work again. It's been ten years and I haven't heard of, or seen him again. I've seen his ex-wife, she was gloating about how she put him away. How she stitched him up. I don't know what to believe.

I had a customer who during conversation told me she had a kidney donor card. I have hereditary Kidney disease. Without treatment I am due to die next year. With treatment I have about thirty years to live. She told me quite proudly that she had this Kidney donor card but it had a rider on it. Now I must tell you that this woman is a devout Christian, she goes to church every week, she is on the church council. But her rider specifically states that on death her kidneys should only be given to "a christian person". Muslims can die so can anyone else who isn't christian. I was shocked. I am an atheist.I don't believe in any God. But this turned my stomach especially as she was so proud of it. I am not a christian but I hold christian values. I believe that we are all on this earth together. Religion and politics mean nothing. If I can help someone in my death I don't care what religion they are, I don't care what politics they have. All I know is they wont want MY kidneys. They're fucked.

iPod now playing - Lets Dance by Chris Montez

Driving down the road

I was talking to this sales rep one night in the pub. He was miles from home, pissed off and drunk. He was fed up with his job driving thousands of miles every week visiting people who didn't want, or weren't interested enough, to speak to him. He felt he was living in his company car, he hadn't seen his wife and kids for three days. He smelt of sweat and strong deodorant. He was close to the edge. No sales, no where near hitting his target which seemed to go up every month. He was demoralised, everytime he got close to hitting his target they raised it. At times as we talked, he seemed close to tears. I don't think I've seen anyone so broken in a long time. A few beers later he started telling me about his new game.
He'd be driving down a yet another dual carriageway from one pointless meeting to the next, and he'd shut his eyes. At first he did it because he was tired and just shut them for a second, and the car kept going in a straight line. He opened his eyes nothing had changed. he was just a hundred yards further down the road. So he did it again. This time deliberately. He felt the speed, the excitement, the terror. He felt alive. ON and on he went down the dual carriage ways each time he'd dare himself to shut his eyes for one more second. Building it up to five seconds with his eyes tightly shut. Then he took his hands off the stearing wheel.
"Christ! Are you mad?" I said eventually.
"Maybe." he said.
"You'll kill yourself."
"And would that be a bad thing? What have I got now?"
"But what if you take someone with you?"
"That would not be good." he stared at his pint, head down, swirling the beer slowly in the glass between his hands. "That wouldn't be good at all." he repeated. He looked at his watch. "I've just got time to get to my hotel before they close the bar...... where's my keys?" he fumbles in his jacket pocket, pulls out a fob of keys and slings the jacket on. "......anyway thanks for the chat. I'll be off now." he finishes his pint in one pull "...Don't suppose we'll meet again, but thanks. It's always lonely on the road." He shook my hand and walked out the door.

iPod now playing - Let me roll it by Paul McCartney and Wings

Once Bitten Twice Shy

I have a friend who is an estate agent. Today he had this woman come into his office in tears. She'd tried to save money by trying to do everything herself. She was trying to sell her house and buy another. But everything she had done was wrong. She was dealing with professionals and they had torn her to shreds. So in desperation she went to my friend to beg him to get her out of the hole she had dug herself. So he sat her down in his office and gave her some kleenex and told her to tell him everything from the beginning so he could understand and then sort it all out. So for an hour, between sobs, she told him about disasters at the bank disasters at the building society, disasters with the prospective buyers and prospective sellers, disasters with the estate agents she had to deal with.
So he sat and listened with compassion until at the end she said "And that's not all."
"What else is there?"
"I went to my car and they had scratched 'TWAT' on the bonnet."
At this point my friend almost wet himself laughing.

Another friend called me today. he was doing one of those prank calls, I didn't recognise his voice,and he started giving me a hard time about a vacuum cleaner repair that I had supposedly done that had gone wrong big time. I was doing my best to be the diplomat. At the same time trying to remember who the hell it was who was calling me. Eventually he let me off the hook by saying "It's me Avtar."
"You bastard!" he's my seikh friend.
Ten minutes later he was in my shop, still laughing at his spoof call. He told me he did it regularly to all his contacts. That's the second time he's caught me. Then he told me of his best yet. He phoned a sales rep he knew and put on a womans voice and pretended he was a slapper. He told this guy he was not a gentleman because if he was he wouldn't have left bruises all over "her" body and made it so degrading by taking "her" in a back alley behind her shop, and then being so rough with "her".
At that point he seemed to recognise the situation and started calling my mate Avtar by a specific name, because he remembered doing that exact thing.
Suddenly Avtar was in a situation, he'd accidently hit the truth. This guy really had degraded this woman in a back alley behind her shop and had been rough with her. What was he to do? He had seconds to think about it. Should he continue playing along with the joke or come clean? Well this rep wasn't a favourite so he came clean and confessed he'd been winding him up. He hasn't seen the rep since.

Rock on dudes

iPod now playing - Once bitten twice shy by Ian Hunter

Zen and the Art of Johnny Grays

You've been waiting for it. You've been wondering who/ what the Johnny Grays is /are, well due to an overwhelming majority of two, nows your chance to find out. Here it is the Johnny Grays story......


I was at university and in the toilets of the Union bar was an old condom machine. It was a particularly old design with rather a large opening for the product to fall into. We found that a supple wristed person with small hands could, with a bit of wriggling and dexterity, just about reach the packets with their finger tips and gently ease the packet off the rack to have it fall into the palm of their hand.
My friend Tom was just that man, he would stand by the machine and offer to obtain a one pound pack of three for 50p, thus supplementing his drinking expenses. Further logic suggested to him that instead of waiting in the bogs for customers and getting an unwarranted reputation, he could pre select (read steal) the condoms and have them in the bar area ready for sale, so he could carry on drinking. To this end, he spent an hour with his hand up the condom machine, filling a carrier bag with as many packets as the machine held. The unfortunate side effect of this was he got what we called the "Johnny Grays" that is parrallel grazes on his wrists where he'd wriggled in the machine.Sadly Tom hadn't done his market research, now he was out in the open, he found could not sell the packets of three. Also by touting, he was in danger of drawing attention to himself as the purveyor of stolen condoms. The bar staff took a dim view of this. So the upshot was, he got bored with it and threw the carrier bag at me. "Here you are Mike you can have these. I don't need them, the girlfriends on the pill."I took the bag opened it and looked in, I'd never seen so many packets of condoms. What was I going to do with them? My girlfriend was on the pill too. So I took them home to my digs.I was in a hurry, it was Friday night and I was on a promise, so I just slung my books on the bed, then thought "what do I do with the condoms. No problem I opened my cupboard and threw them in next to my stereo. Slammed the door shut and dashed off to visit my girlfriend.
Saturday night I got back to my digs walked into my room and it was tidy. Hmmm the landlady had been in tidying up. My books were all neatly placed on my desk. My clothes folded and placed on the bed. The floor had been hoovered. Some music was called for. I opened the cupboard to turn on the stereo and found all my packets of three neatly stacked in piles. Shit the landlady had found my stash. Oh the shame! If only it had been drugs I could have lived with that.
My landlady called me. She was a big woman, more of a man than I'll ever be. Hair in rollers and a pinny on like Andy Capps wife."Yes."
"Do you have something to tell me?" she asked, she was pretty broadminded was my landlady.
"Er no."
"Got a special weekend planned?" she asked.
I felt myself going bright red. "Not really. I just like to be prepared."
"Well there's being prepared and ............ you know I never thought of you in that way before." Eeeek! "The children are away this weekend with their father. Perhaps ..........you'd like to watch some TV with me."
"That's kind of you but I'm busy tonight."
I spent all that evening walking the streets, just to be out of the house. From that day onwards there was always something extra on my plate at dinner time, maybe a little trifle or a chocolate bar, handed over with one of those knowing looks and a wink.

Human drama death and destruction

Well I'd like to thank everyone for their input on the Rock and Roll deaths question. I've personally learn a few things from it. So over a few pints Del, the man who can not be named(love the horse) and I argued over who should go into the Rock and Roll deaths hall of fame. Our conclusions are as follows

in third place...... John Bonham, drank equivalent of two bottles of vodka played some more guitar then drank some more.....died.

In second place rather controversially......... Sid Viscious.. Now we accept he was a crap bassist and generally a crap musician, but he played the Rock and roll life style with a vengeance, until he died with perfect timing, just before he was banged up.

In first place we decided it had to be John Entwhistle who died in the company of two hookers and a shit load of cocaine in a hotel room. Dieing on the job with not one but two girls in his bed. Now that's Rock and Roll.

If you don't agree with our final decision. Who cares? You can always leave a comment.

So it's monday and this week I've written two extra stories for the voting list just to spice things up for you. so this is what you've got to choose from.

Hungry Joe

Nose Bags

Johnny Grays

Pheasant

Flies

I would warn you that for those of you with a sensitive disposition one of these stories whilst mildly amusing will have you reaching for the Kleenex, my stories are not necessarily all funny. You get the lot, human drama, death, destruction the lot. Oh God I'm filling up just thinking about it.

So get voting, I've given you the clues in previous weeks you don't need any more
Except maybe to tell you Hungry Joe is a car not a person.

You knows it..


Rock on dudes

iPod now playing - What becomes of the broken hearted by Jimmy Ruffin

Rock and Roll Deaths

Well you all know by now I'm a musician when I'm not doing my day job. But I don't live a "rock and roll" life style. In fact none of the musicians I know live that life. We don't trash hotel rooms and we certainly don't throw TV's out of any windows. So tonight in the pub we were talking about what it is to live the the rock and roll life. That quickly progressed to a discussion on the ultimate "Rock and Roll" death. So I suggested keith Moon driving his Rolls Royce ina swimming pool and drowning. Dave the Chef said "What about Curt Cobain shooting himself?" Steve the plumber suggested Marc Bolan driving his Psychadelic Mini into a tree. We suggested Jimi Hendrix choking on his on vomit, Janis Joplin the same. Jim Morrison. The guys from Lynard Skynerd dieing in a plane crash. Big bopper et al the same. I suggested we throw it open to public vote.

Who died the most "Rock and Roll" death? You guys might come up with someone we haven't thought of, who deserves the accolade as the most "Rock and Roll" death ever. And yes we did consider John Lennon at the hands of Mark Chapman. And that guy who was knocking off Bob Geldorfs Missus. Who hung himself in a hotel room. A sort of sexual adventure that went wrong. We didn't think that was "rock and Roll".

In our opinion it was a toss up between Keith Moon and Samantha Fox who died on stage at the Brit awards. Along with Mick Fleetwood. Who also "died" on stage. At the same event.

So now it's up to you to decide the most "rock and Roll" death ever. If my good friend Del doesn't have an opinion on this I will be very surprised.

OH yeah we have already discounted Mamma Cass and Karen Carpenter. If karen had eaten the pies Mamma Cass should have left behind we'd still have two great singers in our world. Losing George Harrison was tragic, but not a "rock and Roll" death. We discount Glen Miller because he wasn't "Rock and Roll" in the first place. Even though he gave us some marvellous tunes.

So rack your brains. Who deserves the ultimate accolade of the most "Rock and Roll" death ever?

Rock on dudes.

iPod now playing - Death becomes you By Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Halloween Part One (Drink & Fly)

Halloween is rapidly approaching so I thought I'd post this warning to any would be witches. Don't drink and fly. Tonight I had to ditch my car. I know I should have known better than to drive to Dels house. But it was raining. So many drinks later. I wont even go into detail how many. Dels lovely wife Di, drove me home. I could have made it but why take the chance? It's only a ten minute walk to retrieve it tomorrow morning. Think how many people are still alive because Di drove me home. I think I'll go to bed now.

Zen and the Art of Bird Scaring

Ooops major faux pas some of you will have noticed I posted the wrong story. That was quickly deleted and the proper one put in it's place. Sorry for that I was tired this morning. No really I was tired. Almost as tired as my daughter Gemmalah who is so tired she's hallucinating about bunny Rabbits doing the can can on the bonnet of a car, and she's only been at university three weeks. So here it is the Tuesday story.........

During my days at the Ministry of Agriculture Fisheries and Food, part of my job was to scare birds off airfields, we would have to train the fire staff at major airports on how to scare birds off the runways. One day we were at Luton Airport talking to the fire service guys there, demonstrating the “standing on the bonnet of the landrover trick” slowly waving our arms up and down. Thus mimicking the wing beat of a bird of prey. This scares the bejeezus out of the little birds and they all bugger off. The bigger birds take no notice so we have different tricks for them. We have bird scaring tapes. These we made by capturing the birds holding them upside down by their feet and gently giving them a little shake. I must tell you now before any retribution from any animal welfare groups, that no birds were harmed in the making of this story (or the tapes). Anyway after giving the birds a little shake whilst holding them upside down they would inevitably squawk a bit, this would be their distress call. We recorded this on a Nagra reel to reel tape recorder, the one you see Bill Oddie carrying around with him. The recording would then be put onto C2 Loop tapes. At the airfields and airports we’d play back the tapes and the birds would hear the distress call and they’d fly off. Thus making safe the runways for the jets to take off and land. Easy peasy.
However some of the buggers got used to it, or were just plain stupid or deaf. Or all three so we had to back it up with firing off a thunderflash from a hand pistol. Great fun. So we’re at Luton Airport doing this demo and we were in our Landrover on the skirt of the runway, armed with bird scaring tape, Loud speaker stuck out of the sunroof, a two way radio and a very pistol.
“Bird one. Bird one This is the tower. Over.”
“Bird one here, over.”
“Bird one, you have thirty seconds on main runway, over.”
“Roger, thirty seconds, we’re on our way. Out.”
Slamming the Landrover into gear we sped off down the main runway, one hundred watts of power coming from the loud speaker on the roof, “squawk, squawk, squawk”, leaning out the side window we shot the thunderflash up into the air. Dooofffff “Squawk Squawk Squawk.”
We were still tearing down the runway leaning forward looking out the front windscreen for the thunderflash, we couldn’t see it, where had it gone?
All off a suddenly it landed on the bonnet of the Landrover with an almighty bang and flash, SHIT!!!!
“Mayday Mayday, we’ve been hit. We’re going down.” The Landrover was swerving all over the place with the sudden shock off being blasted by the noise and light, I could hardly see a thing. I was blinded. The radio crackled.
“Bird One. Bird One Will you stop fucking about and get off the runway? Over”
We pulled off back to the skirt, a flock of black headed gulls, settled back down on the runway pissing themselves with laughter.
“Well that went well I thought.”

iPod now playing - All along the watchtower by Jimi Hendrix

Vote rigging- shock exposé

Monday again and it's time to vote on tomorrows story.
I really ought to write a few more so the choice is bigger but I never seem to have the time. I work to a deadline, I'm always better under pressure. I'm up at 6:30 am writing a new story every monday to add to the list. So today I wrote a story about a pheasant. Now I'm not plugging this story in anyway, so don't let that sway you, just don't vote for it if you're of a sensitive disposition. Everyone else will vote for it and you wont have a choice. Ha Ha. But we've still got the legendary Johnny grays, a few people have guessed what that's about, some have been close too. Flies is still on the list no ones been even close to guessing that story as is the case of Mayday. I was thinking of putting in another willy story just to appease the constant requests I get. You know who you are. But I'm still working on that one. But you can be safe and secure in the knowledge that none of the stories contain any reference to Gimp masks. So that's alright then. Sorry Del but I'm very inexperienced in the subject of gimp masks, so you can plead all you like. The pink knickers episode was bad enough. But I now officially in a public arena will declare that I WILL DRAW THE LINE at going to pizza hut dressed in a nappy. I don't care if that's your boys birthday request. Love him as much as I do like a nephew, but enough is enough. I could just about tolerate going dressed in an Ipswich football strip (love the horse) but nappies? (That's diapers for you american guys) I don't think so. Why did I have to choose friends like this? Why can't I have normal friends.

Anyway enough of my problems, here's the list to remind you of what's on offer this week:

Johnny Grays

Pheasant

Mayday

Flies

Take your pick, make that call, you've got til 8:30am tuesday (GMT) then the votes wil be counted. All three of them. Ha Ha

Rock on Dudes

iPod now playing - Matchstick Cats and dogs by Mike and Bernie Winters

Ghost writer

Ghosts. I've got one of them, he's silent, just leaves a bloody aweful smell of TCP in the house whenever he visits. The ghost I don't mind, it's the TCP I hate, makes me self conscious when I have friends round but luckily they can't smell it. Even though to me it's overpowering. So I''m wandering round my room sniffing and my friends say "What's the matter?"
"Can't you smell it?"
"What?"
"Bloody TCP."
"No. Why?"
"It's him again."
"Who?"
"My ghost."
"Ah.... er.....think I've left the cooker on. I'll be seeing you."
"Don't go it's only a ghost.........ok .........bye then."
I should keep quiet about it. It tends to freak people out.
But my ghost is harmless he comes and goes. Never says anything. I'm not sure he even knows I'm here because there's no interaction, not like my previous ghost who smiled and waved his cigar at me. Not only does my Ghost not seem to know I'm here but he doesn't even realise where my furniture is. I'll be sitting there listening to my music and he'd walk into the room and walk straight through my bed. I mean for Chrissakes how stupid is that?
"Can't you bleedin well walk round my bed? I have to sleep in that you know. Leaving your bleedin ectoplasm all over my sheets." he ignores me and silently melts away before my eyes just as he reaches the curtain.
My shag buddy said "I don't care what you call it, I'm not sleeping in that damp patch."
I think I'd better put in for a new ghost, someone more entertaining. Other people have headless corpses roaming their landings, wailing and moaning and clanking chains. Tortured souls who leave bloody messages all over the walls. Poltergeists who move objects round the room. Me, I get an old man who smells of bloody TCP. Words will have to be said. If he intends to stay in my flat rent free I'm going to have to set some ground rules.
1. No TCP
2. No walking through my furniture, walk round it like regular people.
3. A little conversation might be good.
4. Stay out of sight (and smell) when I have guests.
5. No damp patches in my bed.
6. and finally for chrissakes cheer up, moping round my flat like you've got nothing to live for. Oh sorry you're already dead, what was I thinking? ......well bloody cheer up anyway, it could be worse, I could get really paranoid and call in an exorcist, I'll have you evicted before you can even say "The sow is mine".

Spook on Dudes

iPod now playing - Ghost town by The Specials

FIT FOR LIFE

My ex, not one normally for funny stories told me this one tonight. She has a friend who's ninety six year old mother was still quite spritely. She was spotted by a couple in the local park struggling to "run away from a nearby rest home for the elderly". They phoned the police, as was their civic duty, and said "there's a very old lady in her pyjamas trying to run away from the rest home."
Very quickly the police arrived and much to the old ladies, protestations, disgust and indignation took her in.
They phoned around all the local rest homes to find out where she came from, all the while she is trying to tell them that the "pyjamas" she was wearing are really jogging trousers and top. She tried to explain that she wasn't running away from any rest home but lived by herself in her own house and she was trying to keep fit by jogging.
So how many of you are shamed by this. Not because the police took her in, but that a ninety six year old women is jogging and you guys aint. I'm 45, I haven't run in over three years. She's more than twice my age. MY idea of heavy physical exercise is lifting a full pint mug to my lips. That and my going for "the burn" with my horizontal slam dancing routine.
My father keeps insisting that you've only got so much energy to last your whole life, so why waste it on exercise? His other theory is you only need to be fit enough for what you do. So if you need to be fit enough to run up and down three flights of stairs you get to that level. There's no point pushing yourself to be fit enough to run a marathon if you don't need to run that far in everyday life.

I took up running five years ago when I had to run for a bus, I got one hundred yards and almost collapsed, I was so out of condition. I felt that I almost died just running those one hundred yards. So I took to gentle exercise then running, then running and swimming. Then I could run two and a half miles, followed by a mile swim, followed by two hours in the pub, undoing all the good. Now I can easily run one hundred yards and not die. But I'm not a fitness fanatic. I can outrun my fifteen year old son who spends his life tied to his computer. I can leave my 19 year old daughter standing. I am not fit. But I am fit for the life style I have. I don't need to be fit enough to run a marathon. I don't need to be fit enough to climb Mount Everest. I just need to be fit enough to do what I have to do.

I am very heartened by the messages of support I've had since my sacking from the band. Not just you guys but personal friends who don't read this. I don't want anyone taking sides. I don't want anyone to be upset for me. This is my problem and I'm cool with it. So you guys don't need to worry. When one door shuts another opens. Life is a challenge. I welcome that challenge. I embrace it with both arms. Bring it on.

Rock on Dudes

iPod now playing - With a litle help from my friends By Joe Cocker

Behind the Scenes at Porn Central

A couple leaning on my wall were eating cheap cold pasties and drinking neat vodka by the neck. Nice to see people really thinking about their food groups. They had a dog on the end of a piece of string. Suddenly a FWD screeched to a halt and a guy leapt out. He was not happy, I could tell, his language was rich in the Anglo-Saxon vernacular. He pulls a knife, the couple step back and the dog jumps up at him……and proceeds to lick his face. Using the knife he cuts the string then rounds on the couple. He screams at them for stealing his dog. They just stand there blinking pathetically, they didn’t speak, they didn’t do anything, they were acting stupid. Perhaps they were. But they didn’t seem concerned that they had just been caught trying to steal the guys dog. Eventually vodka/pastie man said he’d just thought the dog would like to go for a walk. Well this provoked yet another barrage of verbal abuse and threats. FWD man opened the door of his motor and the dog jumped in wagging it’s tail, he got in himself. Vodka man took another pull on the neck of his bottle and started looking around as if he hadn’t a care in the world. With no apologies being offered, no repentance, no acknowledgement of any crime being committed, FWD man continued with the stream of abuse, while Mrs Vodka/Pastie slowly chewed on her pastie, and waited patiently for her turn on the bottle.
Eventually after finally screaming “CHILD MOLESTER” and pointing at Vodka man, FWD man drove off. Calmly Mr Vodka turned to Mrs Vodka and adjusted her hat for her then said “Where did you put the fags?”

Meanwhile Flower Girl Dude came to see me. She was on her way to deliver £600 worth of silk flowers to a house in a very select part of Peterborough. Lovely detached house, rich neighbours. Little do these neighbours know but this particular house is a centre of the porn industry. Behind the Venetian blinds they shoot porno films. I wonder what they’d think if they knew. Flower girl dude was quite chuffed to know that her flower arrangements will be seen and admired by sports fans all over the world, their only equipment requirement being a box of Kleenex and a VCR. So no need for any trips to “Sport and Soccer” then. The porn King asked Flower Girl Dude if she knew of any builders because he wanted an extension building. By coincidence Flower Girl Dudes hubby is a builder, so he’ll be building the extension under strict instructions to keep his specially made blinkers on. No doubt he’ll end up as an extra. I’m told there’s often builders, or workmen of some sort, in these films. So this is a chance for the porn King to get a genuine builder in front of the camera, demonstrating his skills at laying…… bricks,
and humping….. loads of cement
and getting out his twelve inch…….. trowel.

Rock on Dudes.

iPod now playing – Build me up Buttercup by The Foundations

Political correctness gone mad

My friend Doug had his Ford Transit Van stolen from out the front of his house yesterday. His mate Paul saw it happen and rushed over and hammered on his door. They both took chase in Pauls car and followed the thieves to the Paston Gypsy caravan park on the outskirts of Peterborough. From the road they could see Dougs Transit. So obviously they phoned the police.
"Hello is that the Police?"
"Yes how can we help you?"
"My Transit van has been stolen."
"Oh yes where was it when it was stolen?"
"No that's not important, we know who stole it and where it is now we just need help to get it back."
"So if you know where it is why don't you just go and get it?"
"It's on the gypsy caravan site."
"Ah."
"Well can you send someone round to get it back, they're trying to take the engine out right now. I can see them doing it."
"Well we're really busy right now. I'll get a car over to you as soon as possible, where are you?"
"We're in Crabtree over looking the caravan site, you'd better be quick they've got a hoist over the engine compartment."
"We'll be with you as soon as possible. Thankyou for calling Cambridgeshire constabulary."
So they stood and watched not daring to go into the caravan site. They waited..... and waited...and waited. No sign of a police car. So they phoned again.
"Hello I'm the guy who's Transit van has been stolen, they've almost got the engine out. How long til we get assistance?"
"A car is on the way sir."
So they waited and waited some more. the gypsies were really busy. The engine was taken out and all Doug and Paul could do was watch from the road. No one goes onto the Gypsy site.
They called again.
"Hello they've got the engine out now how long before your men arrive?"
"They're on the way."
"You said that twenty minutes ago."
"It's a very busy night sir."
"But they're taking the engine out of my Transit van.................. oh forget it they've torched it. My van is in flames. "
"Are you saying you don't need assistance?"

The police tell us categorically that there is no such thing as a no go zone. But will they turn up and enter the gypsy caravan site? Not in my lifetime they wont. It's like there is the law in normal areas, but in certain areas there is no law. They are so frightened of being accused of victimising the gypsies. We are so PC nowadays. That even if we see wrong being done we can't do anything about it because we are afraid of victimising a minority group.

And that made me think that perhaps team Ferrari should hire a team of Gypsies to be their pit team. They could have Michael Schumachers engine out in ten seconds and another in. The only trouble is they'd have Michaels Engine out and a 1.8 litre diesel engine in instead and the pit team would be down the road before any one noticed. Michaels engine would be in a Ford Mondeo within hours and tearing up the M1 the fastest getaway car on the road.

rock on dudes

iPod now playing - King of the road by Roger Whittaker

Zen and the Art of Spying

Well it was a 50% vote in favour of spying. Johnny Grays a close second (Next time Del perhaps). In these troubled times it's nice to know the security of our nation is in safe hands. So here is the Tuesday story.

Zen and The Art of Spying


I was working for the Ministry of Agriculture Fisheries and Food, my job partly involved driving around airfields and studying bird behaviour. One day I was bored and I was just tootling around the country side in my landrover when I came across an RAF Airbase.
"I've never been here before." I thought, "Maybe I'll have a looksee, see if they have the same birds as all the other poxy airfields I have to visit."
So I drove up to the guard room and announced my presence. I didn't ask permission, I told them I'd come to "Look around" as part of my job with the Ministry of Ag. They sent an officer to meet me, and got invited to have a cup of tea with the station commander. We chatted about what I was doing "Watching birds and studying their behaiviour on airfields" then he assigned a Sergeant to drive me about, while I took photographs and had a great time. They even gave me a radio to play with. So I could chat with the guys in the air traffic control tower. At the end I thanked them for their hospitality and buggered off.
Back at the office I mentioned to my bosses where I'd been that day. The look on their faces gave it all away."YOU DID WHAT?"
"Went to the airbase?"
"HOW IN FUCKS NAME DID YOU GET IN THERE?"
"I just drove in."
"Don't you know there's a war on?(Gulf war) That's a top secret establishment."
"Yes and your point being?"
"You can't just walk into a top secret airbase."
"I did. I took photo's as well."
"Oh my God! We're in trouble now. Do you realise how many regulations you've broken? We'll have to call the Ministry in London see if we smooth this over.. You can't just walk into this place without permission."
"I had permission."
"From who pray?"
"The commanding officer, he invited me in for tea and biscuits. He was very interested in my work. We had a chat an everything. Nice guy too. Very knowledgeable."
"So when did you apply for permission, what channels did you use. I never authorised, or saw any documentation on it."
Boss one looked at boss two."Nor me." he said.
"I sort of knocked on the front door, I guess you could call it cold calling. "
"I don't believe it. You cold called a top secret base? And they let you in?"
"Yes."
"Lets hope the papers don't get wind of this one, We'll all be hanging by our toes by the weekend."
"Shall I write up my report then?" I ask innocently.
"GET OUT!"I almost skipped out of the office. Hey Ho! Another triumph. Another moments exasperation for my bosses neither of whom really wanted to be my boss for fear of the next thing I might do that they would have to either c0ver up or just bury their heads in their hands. I suppose that's why I've almost always been my own boss since then. My superiors, bless em couldn't cope with me. They had a leaving party, when I left the Ministry to move on to better things. I wasn't invited.

Faith No More

Sad news. You may as well know that I have parted company with my band. I could make some comments about personal differences or professional differences but that would be irrelevant and unfair to the other guys. I can honestly say that there has not been one second on stage that I haven't loved. Even when we've all been dog tired and struggling, it's been great. I have had a lot of fun. It's been an honour to play with the guys and now it's all over. I confess to being really sad about it, but life must go on, nothing stands still, life is in a constant state of flux things change and without change we stagnate. So I guess change is good. But it's that moment of change that's always uncomfortable. It's always safe and secure and comfortable if nothing ever changes. But then where's the challenge? So onwards and upwards. There's always more funny stories to write and more music to play.

Talking of stories, hey ho, guess what it's Monday and it's voting day. So todays vote involves tales of such intrigue and adventure that you'll be hard pressed to decide. So as usual, hardly any clues as to their content, although if you take note, over the weeks, the clues change and you may build up an idea. Anyway on the starting line this week

Johnny Grays ---plundering the depths in the gents toilets (Sorry Robin)

Spying--- Saving the nation from itself, a tale of national security.

Mayday--- God help you if you need to fly anywhere.

Flies ---This has nothing to do with trousers or gents toilets or urine or willies I just thought I'd make that quite clear. So what else could it be but............

So lets forget my own personal disasters and get on with the business at hand, that is voting on tomorrows story, start voting now.

Rock on Dudes

iPod now playing - Fool to cry by The Rolling Stones

Sleep walking

Not a lot I can tell you about last nights gig. We turned up we played we recorded it. We've been booked to play again four times next year. The Landlord said he really enjoyed it, as did his entertainments manager (his daughter). WE started playing at 10pm came off stage at 1am. Got to bed about 3:30am. I need some sleep.
I'm too tired to go into detail. I just want to die. But I've got to work all day today.
Who'd be a bleedin' musician?

sleep on dudes

iPod now playing - Fool such as I by Elvis Presley