Strictly Dancing

There’s been some controversy in ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.  Apparently people have been voting for the couples they like instead of the couples who are dancing the best.  That’s outrageous!  Imagine if we did that when we voted for politicians and ignored how good their policies were and just voted on how nice their suits looked.  The country would be run by a bunch of smarmy, devious, media led con men.  Hang on a minute…..

The judges got very excited when one of the better dancers had to leave because the public voted for a TV sofa bunny.  They were shouting on the TV and ranting in the newspapers.  It took our minds off the horrors of the world, war, famine and climate change for a while but eventually it got too much.  You couldn’t get out of bed without Craig Reveal Horrid stepping out of your wardrobe and saying, “Surely it’s all about the dance not the celebrity!” in a snidely sort of a way.

I was glad when the News headlines changed to the freak hailstorm in Colombia.  So much hail fell in such a sort time that a whole bunch of cars were trapped in what became a river of ice.  The TV showed one poor wretch pulled out of the window of his car by the local rescue services.  Shivering from cold and fear and with tears frozen to his cheeks, he turned to the cameras and asked the question that had been tormenting him throughout his imprisonment:
“You must tell me Senor, did Dominic and Lilia make it through to round six?”

No mate they didn’t, and I’m not sure I’ll make it through to the next one.

                                                                            

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Taking it onboard

Dunston has left Shivering Sands to go Cruising!  Yes, it was a bit of a shock, after all his talk about escaping the over-indulged, media plagued, fatuous life style that he had before.  The truth is that living on that World War Two sea fortress was on the point of killing him.  The poor food, cold metal surroundings and lack of human companions was bad enough but then his Sky-box got jammed on Paramount Comedy and they promised him a weekend of non-stop ‘Frasier’.  He knew that he had to get away.

So he gathered up his more important possessions, Justice the dog and Flump the cat, jumped into the old seadog’s boat and was ferried across to join the cruise ship ‘Artless’ which was scheduled to pass close by.

‘Artless’ is one of four ships of the OAP Line the others being ‘Odorous’, ‘Ventricle’ and ‘Decadent’.  Things haven’t changed that much since Nelson’s day, they have all the usual stuff on board; a hairdressers, casino, dining room and disco’.  Below decks, the crew don’t have such a good time what with the rowing, whipping and starvation, but they do have a ten-pin bowling alley which explains why dolphins follow ships.  Dolphins just love the sound of the ball scattering the skittles, it reminds them of when they walked on land and went bowling.

Nelson was often up late in the casino playing cards, which was his favourite, but the other crew had to be careful what they said.
“Are you throwing in your hand?”, “Whose Little Blind?”, or anything equally tactless would upset him so much that he would have to sink something.  Usually a double Jack Daniels.

During his dying kiss with Hardy he secretly passed over the four aces that he kept in his empty sleeve, and Hardy took them to protect the honour of the nation’s hero.  Hardy kept the cards on a chain hanging over his heart.

In a later campaign his life was saved when a cannonball bounced off them but it decapitated another sailor who, had he lived, would have had a grandson who would have invented the cure for seasickness.

How ironic!

                                             

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Night of the Livid Dads

Ok Dads, it’s time to put your running shoes on.
Sit and watch the TV by all means but make sure you’re ready to get outside in a hurry.  Wear a thick coat.  Keep your kid’s baseball bat by the front door.

Ready?  It’s dark outside now. Here they come. You can hear them laughing in the street.

Get set.  It’s all gone eerily quiet.

‘Bang!’ on the window, ‘Bang!’ there’s another one.

GO! GO! GO!  Out of the lounge, jump the cat, across the hall, dodge the wife, grab the baseball bat, fumble with the door, that’s it – you’re out into the cold, Halloween night.

An egg whistles past your ear but you keep going.  A group of kids scatters and starts running down the hill, screeching with delight that they’ve Got A Live One.  You’re already breathless but you keep going after them.
A large kid in a thick coat carrying a rolling pin is running shoulder-to-shoulder next to you, you get ready to bat him but realise, just in time, that it’s Mr O’Connor from number 33.

“Alright, Steve?”
“Yes, mate,” he gasps, “we’ll get the buggers this year!”

But already the kids you’re after have disappeared, some down the alley by the railway, others into the estate where they live.  The only ones left are some tiddlers and a few tarty girls who are laughing at you.  Not worth using the bat on them.

So it’s back to your street.  A couple of policmen look at you suspiciously from a passing patrol car. 

 Get the hose out and try to wash the eggs away.

Another year of failure.  Probably just as well – there’s now so much pent up rage that you’d probably disfigure or kill some poor little sod.  And didn’t you and your mates do stuff like this before you became ‘responsible’?

Anyway, not long to wait until Firework night, or should I say ‘Firework week’.  There’s plenty of preparation to keep you busy there.  Bucket of water under the letterbox.  Make sure the hose is connected.  Find some sort of hat to protect your hair from ignition.  Sedate the cat. 

Get ready for the Fun.

                                                                                                                    

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Canned meat

Cattle rustlers in South Africa’s eastern KwaZulu-Natal province have been trying to outwit police by transporting the animals in small cars.

Police chased one overloaded Fiat Uno into the night, after receiving a tip-off at around 0300. The driver abandoned the car after he realised he was being followed and ran off into the bushes.

All the seats except the driver’s had been taken out and two cows and two goats loaded in their place.  The authorities say that in another instance the rustlers managed to cram two cows and seven goats into a Toyota Tazz before being pulled over.

A spokesman from Toyota said, “The recommended load for the Tazz is one adult, two cows and four goats. In factory tests we found that the addition of further goats tended to put too much pressure on the in-car environmental systems.”

“He’s correct,” said a cow, “those goats stink and the air conditioning was struggling to cope. Furthermore, without seats we had nowhere to hang our in-car DVD players.”

“Once the rozzers were on our tail it was a bit like ‘The Dukes of Hazard’,” said a bruised goat, “with no seats there were obviously no seatbelts so we would have been bouncing off the walls if we weren’t wedged in so tight. “

Police said they hoped these animals would be given a trauma debriefing – but did not elaborate on what that would entail.“Don’t think two nights at Champneys Health Farm is going to stop me calling my lawyer!” said the goat.

                                                                                              

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Dog shoots Man

A man out hunting in Iowa was shot in the leg after a hunting dog stepped on his gun, authorities said. The accident happened after James Harris, 37, put his gun on the ground to retrieve a fallen pheasant.
One of a pack of hunting dogs following behind stepped on the trigger, and up to 120 birdshot pellets hit Mr Harris in the left calf at short range.

“If I knew which one of them did it I would make him pay but the crafty hound melted into the crowd before I could spot him,” said Mr Harris. 

Alan Foster, a spokesman for the Iowa Department of Natural Resources, told the AFP news agency it was not uncommon for hunters to be shot by their dogs.
“I hear about it a couple times a year,” somewhere in the country, he said. “The dogs always claim it’s accidental but it’s suspicious that it always seems to happen when the owner’s back is turned.”

“It was a genuine accident that he was hit in the leg, I was aiming for his arse!” laughed a one-eared, black and white dog, who did not wish to be identified.

“I don’t know what hop-a-long Harris is moaning about,” said a passing pheasant, “I took a whole wing full last summer and you don’t hear me complaining.  If you can’t take it – don’t dish it out!”

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Best thing in the world

 In an interview with Company magazine, Kelly Brook gives her top tips for keeping the passion alive – fighting and fantastic lighting.

“Fight a lot. Even if you do agree, pretend you don’t,” she said.

I don’t agree, or maybe I do agree – I’m confused already.

“I’m a brat for the sake of causing trouble – but tongue-in-cheek and with a twinkle in my eye.”

Yes, a troublemaker, that would certainly keep me keen and sexually charged.  I don’t have enough trouble in my life already, I need my loved one to cause more.  If they don’t have a tongue in their cheek, I can shove one in for them, or perhaps a sedative.

Asked for her hot tip on maintaining a good sex life, she replied: “Fantastic lighting! When you redecorate, make sure everything’s on dimmers. Either that or candlelight.”  She attributed her curvy figure to “having tons of sex so you look fit and healthy – it’s the best thing in the world”.

There’s uppers, downers and dimmers – that explains a lot about the interviews in Company magazine.  You’re on dimmers, aren’t you Kelly? 

Still, she may have a point.  No, really.
Next time I ‘redecorate’, I’ll take out the light bulbs and dot a few candles around the place.  Then I can start a fight with the wife, lure her into the gloom and stick a twinkle in her eye.  Or perhaps a stick. 

At least I might look fit and healthy in the dark.

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