Saturday, April 19, 2008


It seems that the south of Britain is under a stinking cloud. Although I've not noticed it myself around here, I'm assured by the newspapers and television that everything outside smells of poo and fertiliser,  and people are feeling sick.

London has apparently not smelt this bad since The Great Stink Of 1858.

The fact that there actually was a Great Stink Of 1858 is heartening. It's an even better atmospheric condition from the history books than the Great Smog Of 1952. Still, I suppose everything (and everybody) used to stink in 1858, so who would have noticed the difference?

The Great Whiff Of 2008 will no doubt be received very enthusiastically by my favourite local newspaper columnist, Bob Ogley.  

The man Ogley is a fucking legend.  Geoff has paid tribute to his overview of punk here.  

Generally, he gets very, very excited about weather.  The Great Storm Of 1987 was probably the highlight of his life.  This is a man who wrote something along the lines of "the last classic white Christmas occurred in 1970"  "The last classic white Christmas!"  What a man!

The man, the legend, the Bob

I await his response to The Great Whiff in the local press.   Come on Bob, don't leave us on tenterhooks!

The Great Whiff is being blamed on what Alan Hansen calls "the continentals".  It could all be down to Dutch pigs, Belgian chocolate ("?") or "continental" slurry.  Apparently, a right wing movement has gone mad on the internet suggesting that it's all a "continental" conspiracy, and obviously a sign that we should get out of Europe straight away and never, ever sign up for the Euro, and they're all dead swarthy and their eyes are too close together and all.

A Dutch pig, looking untrustworthy, yesterday

Er, yeah, it's Saturday and I'm taking "inspiration" from The Guardian.

Still, if any of you have Great Whiff stories, I'd love to hear them.  The best one will win a couple of BRITISH pork chops from a local butcher.

Labels: , , , ,

Are the chops from Fred Elliott and Son Master Butcher? I say, are the chops from Fred Elliott and Son Master Butcher?

Pardon me if I can't let Fred rest in peace.
Our city is surrounded by huge Orwellian Hog Farms that spread manure over neighbouring farms and host soccer pitch sized open-air lagoons full of pig poop and piss (BARF!)
All of which creates a sulphuric 'sm'hog' that wafts into town when the winds are right and causes sparrows to plummet from the sky.

It may be better this year because the Yanks won't accept Canuck Piggies because of some trade pissing match so the farmers are going to kill off a million pigs and declare bankruptcy. A pound of Bacon will cost about as much as a Lexus this summer.
After I shouted at everyone that came into the house for stepping in dog poo I rang up the council to complain about it because I thought it was the local sewage works. Mind you - that smells like boiling cabbage mixed with cheap air freshener - this one just stank of shit. Then I checked the news - Regardez los Eurowhiff - all explained. Can't wait for Bob's interpretation and explaination.
Thanks for this info Betts. I just assumed it was me - I was even planning to have a bath tonight.
How do you confuse Daily Mail readers? Tell them that illegal immigrants kill and eat paedophiles.

How do you confuse them further? Tell them the Great Stink is caused by the flatulence that results.
Don't worry Betty - we're still smelling of roses up 'ere.
It must be because there aren't any Tories.
I thought the Dutch Pigs were like, cool on shit man.

Anyway I'm more concerned about John Prescott's Bulimia.
MJ - I don't go there any more. Don't trust Ashley, especially when he employed Kirk. Kirk doesn't know his way around a carcass.

Donn - sounds pretty ghastly. Seems that the stink may result from the fact that European farmers aren't allowed to slurry their fields in winter, so have a mass slurrying at the end of winter restrictions. The same ruling is probably going to be introduced in Britain, so we may have to get used to an even worse whiff every spring soon.

Rockmother - I'm sure Bob will get to the bottom of the cause (as it literally were) and won't be afraid to get his hands dirty. Still haven't smelt anything funny around here. Perhaps we're protected by some geological phenomenon that, er, I can't explain. Canary Wharf getting in the way?

Tom - heavens, no! Only on the first day of each month, remember!

Tim - shame on you. Daily Mail readers have got so much to worry about as it is with illegal immigrants, chemical warfare, paedophiles, ladettes, welfare cheats, Bob Geldof's daughters running out of control, etc.

Kaz - you're all smelling of roses and we've got to put up with the smell of the stuff you grow roses with.

Murph - the Dutch Pigs don't give you any hassle, man, that much is true. John Prescott looks like a Dutch pig (the kind with trotters).
". . . people in London, Kent, Hertfordshire, Berkshire, East Anglia and Devon were grumbling about the stink. . . "

Strangely selective, this stink. I take it all counties between Reading and Exeter were unaffected.

Are you sure that's a Dutch pig? It's outdoors, heavily pregnant and well fed. Most pigs on the continent are kept in underground bunkers, the mothers pinned to the floor in crates while the weaners are penned together on bare concrete, unable to even turn around - all so Tesco can knock out a pack of sausages for less than a quid.

That's why you should buy your pork from a reputable supplier of outdoor reared UK pork, farmed by someone who gives a shit about his animals.

Here endeth the shameless plug.

The NFU are probably right about the slurry too.
I didn't notice the Great Stink here, as it was cancelled out by the aroma of the cow sheds and whacking great slurry pit round the back.

Take that, Euro Pong! The Great British Smell of the Countryside beats your insipid whiff any day.
hasn't got this far - I spose that must be lucky, although being up to my knees in either horse shit or primary school children, perhaps I just haven't noticed.
Malc - well, I'm living in Kent (the London end, anyway) and I've been lucky enough to avoid the stink, so far. Dunno whether the pig is Dutch or not, to be honest. It was the only suitable picture on Google! Still, it appears to be on fairly flat land ... Bob Ogley is definitely Bob Ogley, though.

Doris - yeah, we do have quite a whiffy countryside and are very selective about problems caused by our, er, European "partners". The biggest fuss is probably being caused by townies who are only used to the great stink of petrol fumes or the fruit bubblebath explosion they get walking past a branch of Lush!

Ziggi - the smell of exhaust fumes in our town centre have probably cancelled out any, er, "natural" pongs.
Two long years of commuting on the Northern Line have probably killed my nasal receptors stone dead. You can actually see the black gunk hanging in the air. I haven't smelt a thing. But then I barely venture outside Zone 2, where the atmosphere is barely breathable anyway.
Del - it's a bit disturbing really, the way we get used to pollution. It's only in high summer that I notice the smell of exhaust fumes in the air. The state our lungs must be in ...
It was all down to Johnny German, apparently. Who cares if that's true - it's a good rumour.
As to "Great Whiffs I Have Known", When Mrs Brindley from our Post Office ran off with one of her son's friends that caused a bit of a stink round here, I can tell you.
Reg - good job she got out of the Post Office before the closure programme though, wasn't it?
how do they know it's coming from the continent? is it garlicky at all? are all the frogs stampeding westward?
FN - in Britain, when in doubt about something that's unpleasant, blame somebody overseas. That's the general philosophy. It's now being blamed on The Germans. Everything comes back to the war.
oh wow - it really honks here today. i'd assumed it was something they'd arranged for the shakespeare birthday celebrations. x
RG - jeez, is the Big Stink still hanging around then? At least it gives you an indication of how it must've smelt during Shakespeare's time though (... and how it'll smell here when fortnightly rubbish collections are introduced).
Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?