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Thursday, July 23, 2009

FRYING TONIGHT 

At the weekend I was reading about some posh bint who lived in a *rustic idyll* in a windswept outpost in the far, far west in the way that poshoes do, because they don't want to mingle with the hoi polloi or have contact with anything modern and therefore vulgar. Complaints were voiced about a power surge causing problems.

"Well, if you lived anywhere near to civilisation you would have an electricity supply that actually works. Still, that would be too easy, eh?" I thought.

Lo and behold - a day later our power went off - for around ten hours.

Obviously, God must have been carrying out revenge on me, and God is a poshoe. He was probably easing himself into a flowery Cath Kidston frock and waiting patiently for a bowl of soup to *heat through* for a couple of days on the Aga when He decided to blight ME with the inconvenience of not having TV or computer access and laying waste to food in the fridge (boo hoo).

Actually, we were very very lucky compared to the majority of people in Darford, Crayford, Erith and Orpington who were without power for a further couple of days. Because we live near to a fire station we were on a constant generator supply.

Obviously, these days most people are heavily reliant on electricity for most aspects of life, which would suggest that in the event of a power failure there would be some contingency plan in place.

Not so judging by the way the (privately run) company EDF have dealt with the problem.

Updates on the situation on the phone have been vague or - if you want more detail - online ... which means you have to have access to a power supply. Hmm ...

The fault occurred because vandals (or more likely, criminals who knew what they were doing) tampered with the locks on security gates at both ends of a power bridge. In other words - there wasn't really any sort of security, was there?

Ah well, if you were to attempt to steal a £1 t-shirt from Primark you would be wrestled to the ground by a burly security guard. If you attempt to have access to a prime source of power for 100,000 properties in a large area of Kent/Greater London then you can do so without being apprehended or fear of being caught. Such are the priorities of modern life.

Sigh, whatever happened to that good, old fashioned electricity that used to FRY KIDDIES ALIVE, eh? Them was the days ...

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Friday, July 17, 2009

THE BOY LOOKED AT JOHNNY 

I've got far better things to do than blog these days, so instead here is a (rather late, but heartfelt) tribute to one of the great stars of the firmament by one of the great stars of the firmament. Known as Counte Edwarde Scissorhandes or Captain Sam Sparro or Dr Hillary Jones to you, he is top muddy booted actor Johnny Depp.

"Oi am 'aving a fag"

Hi, I'm here to say a few words about one of the great stars of the firmament - the irreplaceable Mollie Sugden.


A lot of people would be taken aback to think that I of all people would be a fan of the work of Mollie Sugden, but - whatever. Bitch was a unique and talented actress.

I followed her career from Liver Birds through to Come Back Mrs Noah.

Just love that trick she used of speaking in a pseudo Brit upper class accent, then reverting to an earthy, white trash accent! She wore that shit out, but - whatever! Ha ha!

She's probably best known for her role as Mrs Slocombe in Are You Being Served?, which to me is the epitome of the Brit sitcom. Seriously, I love that shit!

I mean, Mrs S. wasn't perhaps my favourite character in that show. I have to give serious love to Mr Grainger, he was such an old sweetie and he was with ENSA during WW2 for the Brit army, so respect to the dude!

Still, Mrs Slocombe had been an old battle axe during the Brit war herself. Apparently she met her husband in an air raid shelter, and, as the bombs dropped he fell on top of her and said "look out - here comes a big one!!!!" Ha ha! That shit still kills me. Mrs Slocombe was always talking about her pussy - I guess Mr Slocombe himself must have been pussy whipped in his time! Ha ha!

Seriously though, I've always loved Brit comedy more than anything. Are You Being Served?, Marty Feldman, anything featuring John Junkin, Growing Pains Of PC Penrose, Do Not Adjust Your Set, The Dick Emery Show - all that shit.

So I was pretty psyched when I got to work with the dudes from Fast Show.

"Does she GO, surr??"

I love that shit!!! "This week oi arve been mostly eating taramasalata!!!" Ha ha! "Does she loike it up the back surrr?" "Let's orrffroad!!!" "Oi've seen yer eatin' a bit of pickled gherkin with yer luncheon meat sandwich! Ow queer! Ow queer!!!"

Ha ha ha! That shit makes me lose my shit!!!! Ha ha ha!

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