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Wednesday, November 29, 2006

TIDYBEARD 

RIP Noel Edmonds, who died peacefully in an entertainers' rest home in Ellesmere Port this morning.

Noel will be fondly remembered for the Noel Edmonds Radio One Breakfast show, when he played endless drivel like that song "If I Could Read Your Mind Love, What A Tale Your Thoughts Could Tell" and behaved like a sort of watered down Kenny Everett. After this, he went on to design the eight foot heap of strawberry yoghurt vomit, Mr Blobby, and awarded people like John Craven his *hilarious* "Gercha!" awards. After several years where he apparently disappeared from view, lulling the public into a false sense of security, he returned with the hugely popular quiz show where people open some boxes or summat.

Oooh, hold on ... that should have been Neil Edgeford, an 87 year old former trapeze artist from Bootle. Who died peacefully at an entertainers' rest home in Ellesmere Port ...

Shitshitshit.

Comments:
I am very unhappy this is a very cruel hoax. Noel Edmunds is a great embassedor for Britain and this is a very sick joke indeed. I am very disgusted and angry.
 
A cruel hoax indeed, Glenda. Getting our hopes up that the obnoxious egotistical little dwarf had gone, then dashing them.

Can't we swap the wonderful Fluff for him in some sort of hostage excahnge?
 
filing this post under "wishful thinking".

is glenda real? does anyone know noel edmonds' IP address?
 
Noel dead? No big deal then.
 
Is it ‘schadenfreude’ that means pleasure in someone’s bad luck or downfall?
Well recently Noel has robbed me of that pleasure … one of the few I had left.

And now he hasn’t died - it’s just not good enough.
 
It might well be Noel.

He can't spell "embassedor". That's his next gig with Ferrero Rocher stuffed as well then.
 
Glenda - if I was you I'd go off to do some of the breathing exercises your doctor recommended.

Murphmeister - sadly, there is no justice in this world, so we can't have Fluff back. Instead, we are stuck with Noel and Margaret Thatcher.

Surly Girl - Glenda is all too real, unfortunately, although safely on the other side of the Atlantic (if you live in Europe). If anyone is capable of finding out all Noel's personal details, Glenda is.

Richard - no big deal, in so many ways ...

Kaz - Noel will go on, and on, and on, until he owns more of the world than Rupert Murdoch. We should all be happy for him.

Murphmeister - Noel, Noel, time of joy, tidings to you and your kin and Ferrero Rocher.

Noel Edmonds will soon be the "embassedor" of the world, and he will surely be spoiling us wizz ziss Rocher.
 
"I am the morning DJ

at W.O.L.D. d d d d d d"

That was one of his favourites.

Next up: Timmy Bannockburn. We kill ALL Smashy-Nicey. Ooh Gary Davis, die die die.

Sorry. It's me jabs for Morocco talking.
 
Harry Chapin. I used to get that lot mixed up - Gordon Lightfoot, Harry Chapin and Jim Croce. Only one of them is still alive.

Sorry, Timmy Bannockburn is still thriving on Capitol Gold X-tra (or something like that) and Gary Davis's's bit in the middle is still out there on Radio Stow-In-The-Wold (d d d d d d)
 
They we're all very tiny, those DJs of the 70s. Maybe the studios were smaller or something.
 
Realdoc, the Radio One studios occupied a very small part of Broadcasting House in the 1970's, and the ceilings were only 3 feet from the ground. This is why Noel Edmonds was chosen to work there, not because he has any specific talent. Or, as my mother in law says, "he's a funny little man with no bottom and long pointy shoes, like a little gnome".
 
The big question is what will they play on Our Tune when Bates goes?
 
What about "Zip a dee doo da!".

Mind you, if you hang around long enough you do become cool again - Rolf, Fluff, Bill Oddie all had to earn their cult status by going through a similar sounding period.

Hairy Cornflake, anyone?
 
Del - blimey, I hope they do play Our Tune, and we hear the long and heartrending story of his slow and gruesome death before they put on something by Dean Friedman. Sorry, wish fulfilment again.

Murphmeister - The Hairy Cornflake will become cool again over my dead body. I will fight to the bitter end to stop Him That Is Comin' At Ya Through The Cornflakes from getting any sort of recognition. As far as I'm concerned, I hope he's playing radio snooker and wittering on about tyres on Radio South Pole for the rest of his life.
 
The boffins at the Pole deserve better.
I always imagine South Pole stations like McMurdo having a radio tannoy like the one in M.A.S.H....
Anyroad, Betty, I had to tag you. Is it normal to feel a bit ashamed?
 
Arabella - okay, what about sending DLT to another planet? Or another solar system? I'm a bit worried about the waste of tax payers' money, that's the only reason I didn't consider sending him further afield before.

Alright, seeing as it's you, I'll do the meme. It'll tide me over as I'm out of posting ideas at the moment.

Mind you, that meme has been doing the rounds and it's only now that I've been tagged. Not that I usually like doing memes but I end up feeling like someone who hasn't been picked for games. Still, I'm getting a bit long in the blogging tooth. We all lose our charms in the end. I've become the Dane Bowers of blogging.

Er, anyway, as you were ...
 
Noel will never die. He's found the outer limits of the universe or something!
 
Sharon - what a frightening thought. Does he have a half life of about two million years, and if so can he be wrapped in concrete and buried at the bottom of the sea, miles from anywhere?
 
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