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Tuesday, October 31, 2006

SMASHING PUMPKINS 

Tonight is of course Hallowee'ee'ee'ee'ee'een.

In the US, wholesome, toothsome, polite children who are like The Osmonds on the Andy Williams Show will gather politely around the front doors of "neighbors" asking politely for confectionery or, as they say across the Adlandic (apparently), "candy". The "neighbor", who looks like Perry Como in one of his Christmas specials, always politely offers them a big ole basket full of sugary treats and the happy, grateful children sing "You Are The Sunshine Of My Life" in a barbershop style as a thank you. Everyone is as merry as can be - well, as merry as anyone can be outside of a Perry Como Christmas Special.

Plus, they are all wearing v-neck jumpers with a cream polo inset.

In Britain, by contrast, gangs of feral brats menace old people, throw stones at windows, splatter eggs and flour all over the place and put lighted paper or dog shit through doors.

The sort of women who give birth to seven children on a beanbag without painkillers and breastfeed all of them (often at the same time) until they are fifteen would put forward the belief that childwen are miwacles of nature, and so full of cweativity, so they should be able to expwess themselves in any way they can.

I say - bollocks to that.

Tonight I will be responding with hand grenades, sniper fire, water cannon, paint bombs, taser guns, nuclear warheads ... anything I can get my hands on, all bought from a dodgy site based in Illinois. A big shout out to "Colonel" Lennie Liebokostowkovochitz who runs the site. Good on yer Lennie - I owe you one big time!

* * * * * * *

In more positive news connected with today, I see that Charlie "The Evils" "That Bloke Out Of Kasabian" Stubbs got into the dunking-for-apples party spirit of the season last night with the appalling David Platt, but didn't manage to drown him in the bath. Pity. Better luck next time, Charlie!

Also, to get you in that all important voodoo mood - look - it's The Witch Queen Of New Orleans. Worra great song!

Happy Halloweee'eee'eee'eee'eee'eee'eeen folks!

BY ROYLE APPOINTMENT 

Biggest television disappointment of the year ....



There is a thin line between involving an audience emotionally and mawkish slop. Unfortunately The Royle Family one off special toppled over into mawkish slop where once it was brilliant observational comedy.

Ah well, we'll always have the memories ...


(of Chris Evans) ... "he's like bloody shit in a field that one, he gets everywhere" (Jim Royle, some time in the 1990's).


R.I.P. Nan. R.I.P. The Royle Family.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

FOX IN HOLE 


I returned from my celebrations last night feeling exhilarated. I would heartily recommend that you all follow my example. It really is remarkable to confront one's bestial side (in all senses of the word!)

However, a comment made by canine blogger Murphmeister this morning puzzled me.

He sent an enigmatic message: "Bursted Woods? Wear the fox hat".

What a fine use of language! So thick with mystery! Unfortunately, it is so thick with mystery that I have failed to understand what he is conveying!

I visited Murphmeister's blog in the hope that this would enlighten me. The comments section in a post about Baker's Complete dog food formula makes obscure references to the "far kennel" - possibly referring to unhappy memories of a stay at a pets' holiday home - and "far cue", which was mentioned in connection with a childhood snooker game by a particularly dimwitted blogger of my acquaintance for no apparent reason. I became even more confused!

There is a glimmer of light. I think that it may possibly be a reference to the character Mrs Fox who was played by Pamela Blundell in the well loved British wartime comedy Dad's Army.

Mrs Fox, a buxom widow, was known to be a "close friend" of Corporal Jones the butcher (felt by many to be the least funny character in Dad's Army. "Don't panic! Don't panic!" - I wasn't panicking actually). Corporal Jones would often slip Mrs Fox a sausage, which was more than her ration book allowed, to the disgust of other women in the butcher's shop. Such use of double entendre used to be commonplace in British comedy of the time and was gently subversive.

However,Mrs Fox was also a woman who wore large and elaborate hats.

By jove, I think I may have cracked it!

I shall certainly wear a large, elaborate hat the next time I am dancing naked out in the woods.

However, if readers feel that the expression "wear the fox hat" has a more obvious meaning, they are invited to air their views in the comments box.

Thank you, my lovely readers. You have been so helpful, and I hope in return that I have been helpful to you!

Dr Ernest Furrowbrow

Saturday, October 28, 2006

SOLSTICE 

This weekend sees the "end" of British Summertime. The mornings will be lighter, the evenings darker, because of the simple nudging back of the clock by one hour.

This is man fooling with nature and oh, how I despise it!

I wish to celebrate the arrival of winter in my own way, by worshipping the changes that nature imposes herself. I suppose you could call me a Pantheist! I am in awe of Nature - her power, her whims.

In the early hours of the morning, I will drive to Bursted Woods, Kent, throw off my clothes and run among the trees. I will lie on the ground, moaning and crying. If there is fox excreta, I will roll around in it like a dog! We are all dogs under the skin! I will also recite one of my favourite poems: a poem I wrote to celebrate the arrival of winter, a time many see as a time of gloom. I see it as a time when, as it were, there is a shedding of the skin! Amidst all the darkness there is a newness - yes, a re-birth through the death of everything! I love that rawness, my goodness. I love winter's .... RAWNESS AND COLDNESS.

Here is my poem:


Weightless
formaldehyde top
DAY
Resurgence!!!
Is Easy, Resume, Let ...
Scripture Timing
HerePlace,
"HERPLACE,
HERPES,
HERESAY"
HERESY.

HERESY,
Gold digger wisdom tooth
WOLF.
WOLF!

Black arts,
Black rites,
Circuit breaker.

Resurgence!
Resurgence!
Prehistoric,
Pre history.
Weightless.


Thank you for reading. I hope I have changed you.

Dr Ernest Furrowbrow

Thursday, October 26, 2006

INFINITE GOON 

Hi. Betty can't be here at the moment because she is seeking help for a chronic fungal toe infection with a chiropodist.

I'm Dr Ernest Furrowbrow, distinguished poet and Emeritus Fellow of Balsall Heath College Of Drama and Creative Writing.

A frequent complaint levelled at this blog is that it doesn't push the envelope as it were, and use language as it's meant to be used. Aaah ... words ... they are jewels, catching the light, amorphous, manifold, beautiful within themselves and also in the way that we perceive them!

They are not to be trifled with.

So, for the next six months, I will be using this blog to showcase my use of words, my ... poetry. Hopefully this will be a change for the better!

Let's start with one of my early works. I think I was stumbling around in the fog of words, then I came to this ... CROSSING ... and realised I was a poet ...


HOMAGE TWO SEMINAL

widely felt
prehistoric
alumni tried enlighten coach
embitter splint
"repeatedly skills unlocking commitment"
!!!!!!
bayou caucus
...
EXCHANGE.


Thank you for reading. I'll be here for the next six months and I hope I will improve your life.


Dr Ernest Furrowbrow

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

BLACK HOLE 

Posh, mopey Keane, the "pop" group from Battle, will be giving a memory stick away with their next single: a little device which stores screensavers and other stuff with which to occupy your time, if you don't have enough to do already.

Technology moves along at a hare's pace these days. Time to consign those MP3 players and DVDs to the landfills and waste your pennies on more time defining stuff.

But, what DOES the future hold for us all? Is it all going to be a case of us living in pods, existing on a diet of nutritional pills and wearing Bacofoil suits, as we have believed since the 1920's?

In 1987, a friend of mine who had had a bit too much to drink announced "in the year 2000 we will all be flying around in cups and saucers".

Sigh ... if only, eh?

Still, I know exactly what is going to happen in the year 2020, as I received a visitation from Somebody From A Future Generation in a dream at 2.30 in the morning. Here's what I found out.

* We will all be able to store our entire record, book and old style "video" or "DVD" collection on a clear disc which is the size of a contact lens.

* Victoria Beckham will now weigh 8 pounds.

* The world's richest man will be Macaulay Culkin.

* Spinsterella will be happily married with seven children and will live in a cottage in the Costwolds. She will have a tedious cake baking, knitting and crafts blog called Musings Of A Born Again Earth Mother.

* Vegetables will be banned from school meals.

* Four wheel drives will now be so large that they take up the entire width of road, therefore causing a traffic standstill within a five mile radius of every primary school in mornings and afternoons at school run time. A huge road building scheme to provide double the amount of roads to accommodate all the extra traffic is undertaken at enormous cost.

* HRH Elizabeth II dies unexpectedly at the age of 94 after a gin binge. A disgraced Prince Charles lives in exile on the Isle Of Man with his long term girlfriend, Beyonce Knowles, so Prince William ascends to the throne. His wife, Paris Hilton, brings a touch of modish American glamour to the Royal Family.

* The golden haired Adonis of blogging Delrico takes over the coveted Radio One breakfast show from Chris Moyles.

* Sir Tim Footman becomes Director General of the BBC.

* Anita Dobson returns as landlady at the Queen Vic in Eastenders, along with new husband Terry (played by Brian May).

* Because of a housing shortage, it will be against the law for less than ten people to occupy a room at any given time. Many people will live at their places of work and will work rolling 48 hour shifts, with a three hour sleeping "allowance" before commencing a new shift.

Sorry I couldn't find out more about all the technological advances I hinted at earlier on. Well, I only did that stuff about the memory stick at the beginning to make the post sound topical. Don't want to seem like someone who is living in the past do I? For a change.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

PICK OF THE POPS 

The top five impersonations done by members of this household for the week ending 22nd October, 2006:

1 (-) Amy Winehouse - "they try ta make me go to rehab - I said NO, NO, NOO"

2 (1) Peter Crouch (gangly, goofy, toothy twit. Has a London accent, for some reason.)

3 (2) Tony Soprano breathing through his nose

4 (-) Rita Sullivan off of Coronation Street singing Bring Me Sunshine*

5 (4) "OOOOOOOOOW!" (Paulie Walnuts from The Sopranos)


* This is of course the opposite of Furious Rita, who comes to the fore every few years, usually when she is confronted by some awful action by a younger woman from the cast, possibly Sally Webster or one of her errant foster daughters who just disappear and never get in touch with her ...

Rita grabs a huge, garishly coloured clutchbag (possibly in an '80's purple or cerise hue) defensively held in front of her and blinks through seven coats of mascara, black liquid liner and mad staring eyes:

"By the HECK lady, I've seen some daft strokes pulled in my time, but you just about take the bloody biscuit."

(Rita storms off in a cloud of black, slightly metallic looking raincoat and patent stilletos, Coronation Street theme music strikes up, credits roll ...)

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

POWER IN THE DARKNESS 


Lovely lovely Orange, the "mobile telephone" company who took over from Wanadoo, stopped my access to the internet for a day and a bit because of a "major outage". I should imagine things are going to go haywire on a regular basis now Orange are in charge. They introduced themselves to us by giving us an automatic free upgrade to a higher speed, even though the computer speed was fine as it was, thankyouverymuch. Hey ho, after the upgrade we had a couple of months of problems with our connection every few minutes at peak times. Which resulted in us having to get a £35 adaptor to compensate for the "free" upgrade.

Anyways ... enough of that.

If anyone sends a long, detailed, techie-style comment about the opening paragraph, it will be deleted, by the way.

Still, the day off from the internet reminded me that there is a life beyond reading about recently loved up bloggers and their loved up love lives (yeuch! GET A ROOM the lot of you!) or having strange encounters with people who have a sense of humour bypass in comments boxes elsewhere (no wonder I tend to lurk a lot these days ... phew!) or feeling guilty because I haven't had the chance to catch up with any podcasts.

So, in homage to the days when there were power cuts in the middle of the Mike Yarwood Show in 1973, I dragged out some half melted candles and a hurricane lamp and we played cards.

Then we sang some cockney songs around the piano while drinking milk stout.

Then, as the candles and the wick of the hurricane lamp petered out, we switched on the "battery operated" "wind up" "wireless" to listen to It's That Man Again! featuring Tommy Handley (formerly of Spandau Ballet), Colonel Chinstrap and Mrs Mopp.

All together now: "CAN I DO YER NAAEW, SIR?"

Then, after the Shipping Forecast finished and the National Anthem played, we gathered together with all our neighbours in the street and had rampant sexual relations with each other.

It was just like the good old days!

Note: the latter portion of this post was my contribution to the History Matters website malarkey that was going on yesterday, because I want to be a part of history.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

LITE HEADED 

Attention, folks! Have you ever wanted to get recognition as a *real* writer? Think you could be the next sassy laydee columnist for one of the newspapers? Are you the next Carole Malone, Colleen McLoughlin (note: Wayne Rooney's girlfriend), Tara Palmer Tamara Farmer Palmer Tompkinson? Lynda Lee Potter (deceased)?

Would you like to earn loads of quids for writing fatuous nonsense? Why not get your foot in the door by recommending your blog to smashing soaraway new London freebie paper, the London Lite?

The London Lite is London's great new paper which tells you everything you need to know if you are a particularly dimwitted twentysomething with the attention span and braincell count of a gnat! Read about Lindsay Lohan, Jennifer Ellison, Jessica Simpson, Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Simpson, and how grey is going to be THEEE colour to wear this autumn!

Any road, the London Lite wants to hear from bloggers so they can be featured in the daily Top Of The Blogs column! Here are the criteria that you must meet:

* Must be female, twentysomething.
* Preferably have a hectic, well paid job in London.
* Must be an out and out bitch, and proud of it.
* Must spend at least thirty per cent of your blog posts whining about how useless and boring your work colleagues are, especially "that complete creep on the IT desk who keeps trying to get off with me, like we're in the same league or something".
* Must spend at least forty per cent of your blog posts slagging off men, and claiming you are a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man in your life and they're only good for one thing and if you want to strip down to your drawers at the Christmas office party and dance around on the desk it's because you are a strong independent woman who is in control of your body and not because you're a complete slapper.
* Must talk about "retail therapy" and buying Jimmy Choo sandals because of being dumped by some man. Shoes are a girl's best friend!
* Must spend the rest of the blog describing how you ended up having it away in a broom cupboard on Friday night with a sweaty, halitosis-ridden rugby union player after knocking back infinite glasses of white wine and soda because you are a strong independent woman who is in control of her body. Oh, and handcuffs were involved.

I'm sure vast numbers of my huge readership will be able to find success by going down this route, so - don't be shy - send your details in!

Best of luck to you all!

Friday, October 06, 2006

ONLY ME 

Nicked this meme from here and here .

I'm not normally a fan of memes, but this one doesn't involve bloody endless answers to questions like "who was your first love?" or "can you roll your tongue up without it touching the sides of your mouth?" Who the fuck cares?

Also, it gives you a break from my purple prose. Lucky you.


How my father saw me.




How my mother saw me.




How my husband sees me.




How my husband's family sees me.




How my friends see me.




How other bloggers see me.




... or possibly ...?




How I see myself when I'm having a night on the town.




How other people see me when I'm having a night on the town.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

CHASE THE DRAGON 


Katie at Bogbumper won't be having any sleepless nights over this one, but ...

... above is a dragonfly taking time out for a few minutes of silent contemplation on our honeysuckle, a week or so back. Summer has, of course, since sizzled out.

I took a picture but, needless to say, the image above was better and was provided by Geoff.

Expect to see photos of big cats, birds of paradise and other exotica as global warming makes Bexleyheath slightly more interesting.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

LITHIUM 

How to do THE ASDA SHUFFLE. Yowza, yowza, yowza.


Friday saw Asda "celebrating" Breast Cancer Awareness month (which starts today) by *getting the cashiers to join in the fun* (i.e., they still do the same lousy, low paid job but are expected to "get into the spirit of things" by wearing stupid clothes and pink wigs. Oddly enough, the mostly male management don't forego their dignity in this way).

Thing is, the "celebrations" included the presence of a band who apparently were there to encourage people to donate money to the campaign.

"So please donate and put your money in the buckets, folks!" said the singer.

"Even if you don't fancy contributing any money, don't worry, we'll keep on playing anyway!"

They then proceeded to play Nirvana's Come As You Are. At great volume.

The average age of Asda's shoppers is 108. Indeed, on a busy day, walking around Asda, behind all of the 108 year olds, reduces the pace of life to a zombie level. As you move one foot in front of another at two metres per hour, you know you're doing THE ASDA SHUFFLE.

The average Asda shopper is not likely to appreciate the Nirvana back catalogue being played at great volume. It will fuck up the controls on their hearing aids and induce coronary thrombosis.

I can only guess that on Friday, at least fifty per cent of the Asda customers were doing THE ASDA SHUFFLE OFF THIS MORTAL COIL.

Still, it's allinagoodcauseandit'sabitoffun.

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