Obese? Big-boned? No, just fat/July 30th 2010.
Richie - Would you adam and eve it! In an attempt to help me slim down and lose my sagging man-baps before I turn 55 Mrs Bob No 3 has put me on the diet from hell! She has devised a protein-rich insect-based concotion of currys and broths from her native Thailand for me to eat and which, she says, contain magical powers that will re-fashion the excessive Roberts corsage. Needless to say I usually feed Mrs Bob's fried bamboo worms and pickled wood beetles to the dog before scarpering towards the village local to enjoy a steak-and-kidney pie or three. However, a couple of days ago she caught me red-handed in the snug and dragged me back to the dinner table by my ear! I countered by telling her that the vile ConDem govts plans to make all Uk pensioners paupers will ensure that in my retirement I'll never be able to over-indulge again! But she wasn't buying it, and got Arthur Groat to hold open my mouth while she force-fed me a baked locust casserole! Mad in Sham & Cleggy's loonybin innit!
Thursday
Tuesday
End of the war on motorists? You'll be lucky/July 27th 2010.
Richie - I was buffing up the crankshaft bearings on the XJ6 when Mrs Bob no 3 summoned me to the kitchen. "Look Wob Boberts" she said excitedly waving a copy of today's DM. "Littlewon come back!" Well, Richie, as you can imagine I rushed down to the snug, paper in hand, where I found the regulars of our local busily calculating who had won the "Where's Richie" sweepstake. You see, the absence of your esteemed column had given rise to all kinds of scurrilous rumours. Dr Singh wagered that you had been engulfed in BP oil whilst swimming off the Gulf coast. Arthur Groat bet that you had finally retired to watch endless repeats of Dad's Army dvds. And Mad Mick, our local toilet cleaner and rabid BNP activist, suggested that you were putting the finishing touches to your long-awaited comeback album (although I think he's mixing you up with Meatloaf.) However, I claimed the fifteen pounds prize, betting that you would return today with a methane-filled article about Gordy & gays! Mad innit!
Richie - I was buffing up the crankshaft bearings on the XJ6 when Mrs Bob no 3 summoned me to the kitchen. "Look Wob Boberts" she said excitedly waving a copy of today's DM. "Littlewon come back!" Well, Richie, as you can imagine I rushed down to the snug, paper in hand, where I found the regulars of our local busily calculating who had won the "Where's Richie" sweepstake. You see, the absence of your esteemed column had given rise to all kinds of scurrilous rumours. Dr Singh wagered that you had been engulfed in BP oil whilst swimming off the Gulf coast. Arthur Groat bet that you had finally retired to watch endless repeats of Dad's Army dvds. And Mad Mick, our local toilet cleaner and rabid BNP activist, suggested that you were putting the finishing touches to your long-awaited comeback album (although I think he's mixing you up with Meatloaf.) However, I claimed the fifteen pounds prize, betting that you would return today with a methane-filled article about Gordy & gays! Mad innit!
Monday
Balls bawled a mix of abuse and socialism/July 19th 2010.
Quentin - I returned from a glorious two week cruise round the med with Mrs Bob No 3 bronzed and re-puckered to find our village in a dreadful state. Coke cans bobbing in the duck pond, fag butts filling the gutters and our hallowed green littered with fish n chip paper. So, in a post-holiday flush of national pride, I decided to invoke the PM's Big Society to clear up the mess. I went to BnQ and spent thirty quid on refuse bags and gloves and merrily knocked on my neighbours' doors for willing hands. Quenty - the response wasn't good. Twenty five per cent of inhabitants said they were too busy & another twenty five per cent groaned and said they were incapacitated. The other fifty per cent laughed in my face and said they paid enough tax, suggesting dozy Cameron come round and clean it up himself! So, thoroughly disheartened with the Big Society, I dumped the bags and gloves in the nearest skip and retired to the snug for a snifter or three! Mad in Sham n Cleggy's not-so-big uk innit! (Richie is away)
Quentin - I returned from a glorious two week cruise round the med with Mrs Bob No 3 bronzed and re-puckered to find our village in a dreadful state. Coke cans bobbing in the duck pond, fag butts filling the gutters and our hallowed green littered with fish n chip paper. So, in a post-holiday flush of national pride, I decided to invoke the PM's Big Society to clear up the mess. I went to BnQ and spent thirty quid on refuse bags and gloves and merrily knocked on my neighbours' doors for willing hands. Quenty - the response wasn't good. Twenty five per cent of inhabitants said they were too busy & another twenty five per cent groaned and said they were incapacitated. The other fifty per cent laughed in my face and said they paid enough tax, suggesting dozy Cameron come round and clean it up himself! So, thoroughly disheartened with the Big Society, I dumped the bags and gloves in the nearest skip and retired to the snug for a snifter or three! Mad in Sham n Cleggy's not-so-big uk innit! (Richie is away)
Friday
This torture inquiry adds insult to injury/July 8th 2010.
Richie - My grandson, Bob Roberts III, is staying with us. A bright little lad he is understandably seething about the unholy ConDem government of the unelected. His school, earmarked for a million pound upgrade under Labour, was at first reprieved from cuts and then, in a farcical about-turn by the incompetent plummy-voiced Tory Ed Sec Gove, not reprieved causing outrage in hard-working communities in the Midlands. Little Bob asked me explain how such a miserable state of affairs had come about and I decided to give him a crash-course in British politics. "Well the Tories are a nasty bunch of self-serving shysters who only help their rich friends while the Lib Dems are a dithering tribe of two-faced lentil-munching wimps. Labour is the only party that helps ordinary working chaps like us." Little Bob then declared that one day he would become Labour PM and fix all the schools in the land. Richie - I wiped a tear from my eye. PM Bob Roberts! Has a certain ring to it doncha think ?
Richie - My grandson, Bob Roberts III, is staying with us. A bright little lad he is understandably seething about the unholy ConDem government of the unelected. His school, earmarked for a million pound upgrade under Labour, was at first reprieved from cuts and then, in a farcical about-turn by the incompetent plummy-voiced Tory Ed Sec Gove, not reprieved causing outrage in hard-working communities in the Midlands. Little Bob asked me explain how such a miserable state of affairs had come about and I decided to give him a crash-course in British politics. "Well the Tories are a nasty bunch of self-serving shysters who only help their rich friends while the Lib Dems are a dithering tribe of two-faced lentil-munching wimps. Labour is the only party that helps ordinary working chaps like us." Little Bob then declared that one day he would become Labour PM and fix all the schools in the land. Richie - I wiped a tear from my eye. PM Bob Roberts! Has a certain ring to it doncha think ?
Tuesday
Remake The Sweeney? Don't do it, Guv'nor, it's not worth it/July 6th 2010.
Richie - Now that Wisteria Cameron and VAT bombshell Clegg's ConDem government of the unelected has started decimating the public sector you'll be pleased to hear that Bob Roberts Security Services 4 U is going from strength to strength. In fact, business is so brisk that I've had to employ extra staff to act as guards in the many dormant public buildings my company is now under contract to protect. Interviews were held last week and would you believe there were a hundred applicants for just three posts! And what a motley crew of shirkers, moaners and naer'do wells turned up Richie - a veritable cross-section of the UK's under-achieving Tory-led society! And if I tell you the successful candidates were a Lithuanian cage fighter named Zoltan, a transgender former squaddie named Dorothy, and a Goth single mother known simply as Princess Delora Hemlock of Deep Space 9 it will give you some clue as to the quality of the other 97 job seekers! Mad in ShamCams clogged-up Clegged-out UK innit!
Richie - Now that Wisteria Cameron and VAT bombshell Clegg's ConDem government of the unelected has started decimating the public sector you'll be pleased to hear that Bob Roberts Security Services 4 U is going from strength to strength. In fact, business is so brisk that I've had to employ extra staff to act as guards in the many dormant public buildings my company is now under contract to protect. Interviews were held last week and would you believe there were a hundred applicants for just three posts! And what a motley crew of shirkers, moaners and naer'do wells turned up Richie - a veritable cross-section of the UK's under-achieving Tory-led society! And if I tell you the successful candidates were a Lithuanian cage fighter named Zoltan, a transgender former squaddie named Dorothy, and a Goth single mother known simply as Princess Delora Hemlock of Deep Space 9 it will give you some clue as to the quality of the other 97 job seekers! Mad in ShamCams clogged-up Clegged-out UK innit!
Thursday
No offence, but what an ugly bunch of coconuts!/July 2nd 2010.
Richie - Would you Adam and Eve it! The conversation in our local settled on dwarves only the other day! I was telling a few regulars - including our landlady Frances, Arthur Groat and my good friend Lady Tabitha Wilmott-Brown - about one of Mrs Bob No 3's uncles in Thailand. A dwarf, he makes a very healthy living in the underground dwarf-tossing championships which are held in various tourist bars throughout the year. He's either thrown onto a padded mat or else dressed in a velcro suit and hurled against a specially constructed wall, sticking to it like a mini-bluebottle! His fame is such that he is regularly seen in trendy Bangkok nitespots with a stunna or two on his arm! Of course Lady Tabitha squealed with delight and suggested that our village organise a similar event in the summer. However the idea was dropped on elf n safety grounds when Arthur, having a practice run in the beer garden, hurled Dr Singh through the window of the ladies! Mad in ShamCam's Clegged-up UK innit!
Richie - Would you Adam and Eve it! The conversation in our local settled on dwarves only the other day! I was telling a few regulars - including our landlady Frances, Arthur Groat and my good friend Lady Tabitha Wilmott-Brown - about one of Mrs Bob No 3's uncles in Thailand. A dwarf, he makes a very healthy living in the underground dwarf-tossing championships which are held in various tourist bars throughout the year. He's either thrown onto a padded mat or else dressed in a velcro suit and hurled against a specially constructed wall, sticking to it like a mini-bluebottle! His fame is such that he is regularly seen in trendy Bangkok nitespots with a stunna or two on his arm! Of course Lady Tabitha squealed with delight and suggested that our village organise a similar event in the summer. However the idea was dropped on elf n safety grounds when Arthur, having a practice run in the beer garden, hurled Dr Singh through the window of the ladies! Mad in ShamCam's Clegged-up UK innit!
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