Tony Martin would know how to deal with Google/October 26th 2010.
Richie - My precocious ten year old grandson Bob jnr is staying with us this week and what a punishing schedule he follows! He's up with the lark to dash off a few Oxbridge test papers before sweet Mrs Nagoya arrives at 7am for his daily Japanese language lesson. Yet more reading, language learning and prepping follows, all with the intention of becoming British Labour PM by the time he's forty. Of course, young Bob reads your column avidly, Rich, and was enthralled by today's effort. "This Littlejohn bloke is a bit of a grade-one fruitcake, isn't he grandad ?" he said with a huff. "I mean, if people were allowed to shoot one another the country would descend into anarchy!" I tried to defend your honour, Rich, but the little chap wasn't having it. "And when's Littlenutter going to write about the Coulsen affair! The old windbag's silence is deafening I say!" and with that he skipped off into the study for a primer in international relations with Mrs Nagoya's daughter. Mad in Sham n Cleggie's austerity Britain innit!
Monday
Friday
Next case, m'lud: Clegg v Cameron pre-nup/October 22nd 2010.
Richie - How right you are to highlight the absurd meddling of the pond warden! I've been feeding the birds in our village pond for longer than I care to remember! Almost every day, in between breakfast and my mid-morning snifter, I spend a few minutes in the fresh air offering morsels to our feathered friends. And not only do our local ducks enjoy white bread, they flap their wings in unconcealed joy when I bring them chocolate-covered bagels, jam-infused hot cross buns and tea-scones with clotted cream. In fact, I once fed them bacon butties and Taste the Difference chorizo sausages and I can tell you Richie that ducks, mandrakes and assorted gulls flew in from miles around to enjoy the feast! Only once, when a few ducks succumbed to the pleasures of my hip flask and came to a sticky end in the storm drain, was there a problem. However, I managed to fish out these unfortunates and stuff them in the local pub wheelie bin before any do-gooders noticed! Mad in the ConDem's Austerity Uk innit!
Richie - How right you are to highlight the absurd meddling of the pond warden! I've been feeding the birds in our village pond for longer than I care to remember! Almost every day, in between breakfast and my mid-morning snifter, I spend a few minutes in the fresh air offering morsels to our feathered friends. And not only do our local ducks enjoy white bread, they flap their wings in unconcealed joy when I bring them chocolate-covered bagels, jam-infused hot cross buns and tea-scones with clotted cream. In fact, I once fed them bacon butties and Taste the Difference chorizo sausages and I can tell you Richie that ducks, mandrakes and assorted gulls flew in from miles around to enjoy the feast! Only once, when a few ducks succumbed to the pleasures of my hip flask and came to a sticky end in the storm drain, was there a problem. However, I managed to fish out these unfortunates and stuff them in the local pub wheelie bin before any do-gooders noticed! Mad in the ConDem's Austerity Uk innit!
Tuesday
The police should be feeling a few ermine collars too/October 19th 2010.
Richie - Your mention of the Stones brought back memories of a dinner date I had with one of Jagger's exotic girlfriends back in the early 80s. I was in scintillating form and immediately engaged in thought-provoking conversation. As we ate our prawn cocktail I outlined the plots of all my favourite Freddie Forsyth novels. Then, as we tucked in to salmon and spinach lunghi (I dribbled a little salmon down the front of my tuxedo and had to discreetly remove my dentures after a rogue slither of spinach got caught up in my windpipe) I moved on to camshafts and rocker valves! I could see by the glazed look in her eyes that she was entranced, so much so that she got up, threw down her napkin and walked out of the restaurant. Clearly my eloquent conversation had worked the poor girl into a passionate frenzy of lust and she simply couldn’t wait for some late night satisfaction on my Chesterfield sofa but would you adam and eve it Richie she disappeared never to be seen again! Mad innit!
Richie - Your mention of the Stones brought back memories of a dinner date I had with one of Jagger's exotic girlfriends back in the early 80s. I was in scintillating form and immediately engaged in thought-provoking conversation. As we ate our prawn cocktail I outlined the plots of all my favourite Freddie Forsyth novels. Then, as we tucked in to salmon and spinach lunghi (I dribbled a little salmon down the front of my tuxedo and had to discreetly remove my dentures after a rogue slither of spinach got caught up in my windpipe) I moved on to camshafts and rocker valves! I could see by the glazed look in her eyes that she was entranced, so much so that she got up, threw down her napkin and walked out of the restaurant. Clearly my eloquent conversation had worked the poor girl into a passionate frenzy of lust and she simply couldn’t wait for some late night satisfaction on my Chesterfield sofa but would you adam and eve it Richie she disappeared never to be seen again! Mad innit!
Thursday
These armchair ghouls couldn't even point to Chile on a map/October 15th 2010.
Richie - The scenes in Chile this week reminded me of an incident that occurred on the outskirts of our village several years ago. Bob Eagleburger, a US reporter from the Florida Daily Mash, was researching an article on English pond life when he fell down a disused mine shaft. The emergency services swung into action and within minutes the area was alive with police, ambulance and fire rescue teams. It was soon established that although the shaft was dangerous it had long since been filled in and the intrepid journo had only fallen a few feet, receiving minor injuries. But when, after a couple of hours, no attempt had been made to pull him out, the attitude of the rescue services was questioned. They seemed content to chat and drink tea while the poor chap fretted below the earth's crust! Was it a case of our lunatic elf n safety laws we wondered ? Richie - they mistakenly thought that YOU had fallen down the shaft and when they realised their error pulled out Mr Eagleburger pronto!
Richie - The scenes in Chile this week reminded me of an incident that occurred on the outskirts of our village several years ago. Bob Eagleburger, a US reporter from the Florida Daily Mash, was researching an article on English pond life when he fell down a disused mine shaft. The emergency services swung into action and within minutes the area was alive with police, ambulance and fire rescue teams. It was soon established that although the shaft was dangerous it had long since been filled in and the intrepid journo had only fallen a few feet, receiving minor injuries. But when, after a couple of hours, no attempt had been made to pull him out, the attitude of the rescue services was questioned. They seemed content to chat and drink tea while the poor chap fretted below the earth's crust! Was it a case of our lunatic elf n safety laws we wondered ? Richie - they mistakenly thought that YOU had fallen down the shaft and when they realised their error pulled out Mr Eagleburger pronto!
Tuesday
You're nicked, boyo! I'll put you down as 'White Other'/October 11th 2010.
Richie - A long-awaited report into waste and inefficiencies in your twice weekly column was delivered in the snug of our village local last week. The report was commissioned by local readers and authored by Arthur Groat, the eminent spoon-playing octogenarian of these parts. As a lifelong farmer Arthur was thought to be well-qualified to wade through the slurry and compost that such a project might involve. Richie, his findings were shocking! Arthur said that no column could survive the level of mediocracy and bias that was inherent in the 200 pieces he reviewed. He also said that new injustices could be highlighted "if only the author did simple things like checking sources and carying out elementary research". But the most damning indictment was the perceived fear you have of upsetting your Tory friends. The avoidance of commenting on the Coulson story in favour of anti-Labour tittle-tattle and petty sexual innuendo, said Arthur, was "a crime against the noble art of investigative journalism." Mad these reports, eh Rich!
Richie - A long-awaited report into waste and inefficiencies in your twice weekly column was delivered in the snug of our village local last week. The report was commissioned by local readers and authored by Arthur Groat, the eminent spoon-playing octogenarian of these parts. As a lifelong farmer Arthur was thought to be well-qualified to wade through the slurry and compost that such a project might involve. Richie, his findings were shocking! Arthur said that no column could survive the level of mediocracy and bias that was inherent in the 200 pieces he reviewed. He also said that new injustices could be highlighted "if only the author did simple things like checking sources and carying out elementary research". But the most damning indictment was the perceived fear you have of upsetting your Tory friends. The avoidance of commenting on the Coulson story in favour of anti-Labour tittle-tattle and petty sexual innuendo, said Arthur, was "a crime against the noble art of investigative journalism." Mad these reports, eh Rich!
Friday
Benidorm and boob jobs on benefits/October 8th 2010.
Richie - Residents of our village were invited to meet our new neighbours this week - a couple who've snapped up one of the prime locations in our neck of the woods for a cool five million or so. Mrs Bob No 3 was very excited and dressed appropriately (she wore a traditional Thai ensemble and her much loved Dr Marten boots) for an afternoon of cream teas and canapes, served in the sumptious grounds of the house. We all had a swell time and the new owners, a bank exec and his glam and giggly young trophy wife, were the perfect hosts. The highlight of the afternoon was when our hostess bared her newly inflated breasts for all to see much to the delight of Arthur Groat, spoon-playing octogenarian of these parts. There was no shame and why should there have been ? As our beaming host said: "It's only right and proper that the general public is given a glimpse of her magnificent frontage. After all, the op was paid for by my taxpayer-funded bonus!" Mad in Sham n Cleggy's unfair uk innit!
Richie - Residents of our village were invited to meet our new neighbours this week - a couple who've snapped up one of the prime locations in our neck of the woods for a cool five million or so. Mrs Bob No 3 was very excited and dressed appropriately (she wore a traditional Thai ensemble and her much loved Dr Marten boots) for an afternoon of cream teas and canapes, served in the sumptious grounds of the house. We all had a swell time and the new owners, a bank exec and his glam and giggly young trophy wife, were the perfect hosts. The highlight of the afternoon was when our hostess bared her newly inflated breasts for all to see much to the delight of Arthur Groat, spoon-playing octogenarian of these parts. There was no shame and why should there have been ? As our beaming host said: "It's only right and proper that the general public is given a glimpse of her magnificent frontage. After all, the op was paid for by my taxpayer-funded bonus!" Mad in Sham n Cleggy's unfair uk innit!
Welcome to Brucie's 'New Generation' Game/October 1st, 2010.
Richie - Mrs Bob No 3, my Thai wife, is currently swotting up on comprehension for her citizenship test and today, reading the DM, she let out a sudden high-pitched shreik of such alarming frequency that I'm sure it interfered with the nation's air traffic control. "See, Wob - Littlewon interview Broocie!" As a devotee of "Strictly" Mrs Bob is a big fan of the showbiz veteran, so much so that she even sends the old duffer a Xmas card. However, I explained to her that it was not an interview she was reading but a rather pitiful attempt by your good self to mock poor Ed Miliband by likening him to a horse and gave her 3 out of 10 for effort. Later, as she browsed our encyclopaedia, she let out yet another high-pitched wail. "See Wob - it Littlewon!" and pointed to a photo of a rather ugly-looking overweight vampire moth sitting alone in a tree. Richie, such was the uncanny resemblance that I spat out my afternoon snifter and almost choked on my hob-nob! Full marks to Mrs Bob I say!
Richie - Mrs Bob No 3, my Thai wife, is currently swotting up on comprehension for her citizenship test and today, reading the DM, she let out a sudden high-pitched shreik of such alarming frequency that I'm sure it interfered with the nation's air traffic control. "See, Wob - Littlewon interview Broocie!" As a devotee of "Strictly" Mrs Bob is a big fan of the showbiz veteran, so much so that she even sends the old duffer a Xmas card. However, I explained to her that it was not an interview she was reading but a rather pitiful attempt by your good self to mock poor Ed Miliband by likening him to a horse and gave her 3 out of 10 for effort. Later, as she browsed our encyclopaedia, she let out yet another high-pitched wail. "See Wob - it Littlewon!" and pointed to a photo of a rather ugly-looking overweight vampire moth sitting alone in a tree. Richie, such was the uncanny resemblance that I spat out my afternoon snifter and almost choked on my hob-nob! Full marks to Mrs Bob I say!
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