Saturday, 25 February 2017

Trumpet cocks snook at the press...


Basil Kalashnikov's current residence...


Councillor Sid Trumpet, who now chairs all the meetings at Sodden Prickney Parish Council, on account of Basil Kalashnikov being temporarily deranged, has decided to ban from all the council meetings, the local Sod-Pri Bugle, a silly sort of freebie paper where people sell second-hand beds, and melamine tables.

This has enraged Ms Cynthia Molestrangler, who has a reputation for faking it on several occasions, (not what I've heard - Ed), and also, funnily enough, Miss Amelia Newt, who often confuses the council meetings with whist drives, and gets very upset if she can't cheat a little with Ron Groat, her life-long squeeze, who used to run the drug trafficking franchise for the local chemist, until he was sacked for chewing tobacco on duty.

Councillor Trumpet has also banned the local BBC reporter, Jim Soap-Oprah, who has developed a particularly nasal sneer whenever he talks to the cameras.

The car-park wall is well under way, and Sagtrousers have delivered several large reels of barbed wire to the site, where feverish activity to nail it to the telegraph poles is continuing in earnest!

All in all, it's been a pretty good start to the year, and Councillor Trumpet doesn't bother with the press any more, just emailing a few mates, and telling them what's going on and stuff, and they're all quite happy!

Ms Billary is hoping for an Oscar this evening, and so is Willy Clinchton. They're both favourites for a walk-on non-speaking part in a short TV advert for something or other, which has been completely forgotten already! (Oh yes, it's the Deniercrats bid for the Sodden Prickney Council Election - Ed)

Saturday, 18 February 2017

Four quid...


Last evening, I met up with a friendly bunch of good friends for a beer and a chat.

Earlier in the day, I'd been writing to a lady about reminiscences from the nineteen-sixties, and explained how my first proper salary was £4.0.0 per week.

My pint(s) cost exactly that...

Gulp!

Friday, 10 February 2017

Thursday, 2 February 2017

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play...

Well tomorrow actually...

But as Oscar Wilde once said, when being pronounced late/early for an event, 'What does that giant orb in the sky know of what happens down here on Earth'! (or something like that...)

O'Blene Enterprises Inc. Ltd. VAT and Bar, had opened an account with Sagtrouser and Wife, and started to manage a building job at The Turrets just on twenty years ago!

We had a superb local builder, who is still remembered as one of the best, and the pic below shows what happens when you eventually clear out the garage...


The freezer had packed up a day or so before, (as they do) and you can just see the danger light showing an ominous red blink!

It was possibly one of the three ugliest garages in the village, and luckily only one remains at the other end of the High Street, but this cold, leaking brute just had to go, and be replaced with a decent extension.

When I got home from work that evening, the first job our builder had done was take it all down, and here is the sad old disconnected, leaking, empty freezer, getting ready to leave this mortal coil, or whatever freezers did in those days.



This was the first really serious work we could afford to do at The Turrets, and we plunged every penny we had into the place, but never regretted a thing, except losing the huge grapevine at the back, which we usually left to grow over the garage to hide as much of it as we could! The grapes made fabulous wine too!

Blimey, I was only forty-nine back then...

Wednesday, 25 January 2017

A new dawn...



After Mr Sid Trumpet absolutely trounced Ms Billary last year, the Sodden Prickney Parish Council has been in turmoil, as previously reported in minute detail by your erstwhile correspondent on several occ (just get on with it - Ed) asions!

It is now understood that Chairman Basil Kalashnikov has sold his Wayfarer De Luxe camper van and purchased a Velocette motorcycle and sidecar for his weekly visits to the Parish offices and also Lidl. This has caused outrage amongst Globule Worming agitators as everyone with a single ounce of interest in ancient motorcycles knows that the Velocette still uses a mixture of 4* petrol and a squirt of Castrol R, and this is only available from Miss Newt's Retail Emporium in pint bottles, priced several pounds a pop, and can emit that delightful odour at the tweak of a throttle!

Ron Groat, (Miss Newt's confidant and intimate companion) manages the stores of the 645,000 retail extravaganza, and categorically denies any wrongdoing. As nobody really understands or actually cares about the issue, it is difficult to understand what the fuss is all about, but when PC Lumbersnatch, a part-time walk-on actor in the local little theatre (closed for repairs after the unpleasantness in the musical production of 'Ten Rillington Place'), arrived with a stub of pencil and an old exercise book, to take notes, there was nobody around!

But to get to the point of this essay (about time - Ed), Sid Trumpet is now Councillor Sidney Aloysius Trumpet, Chairman of the Woys and Mange Committee on the council, and has a huge mandate, even bigger than the previous incumbent! He is planning a new fence around the village carpark, to keep out the riff-raff, and also a new factory on the estate, for the sausage manufacturer, 'Bangers-r-Us'. This is to stop any imports of snags from elsewhere in the country, and has been met with acclaim by all right-minded citizens. especially the Sodden Prickney Snorkers Appreciation Society.

While Ms Billary's cohort, 'Willy' Clinchton is no stranger to 'sausage' issues, it is clear that this is a snub to the former Councillor and silly old man. Ms Billary was seen in the audience at the celebrations, clutching a Kleenex, and rolling her eyes.

Mr Kalashnikov now has to work day and night to convince the council that even a single vote for a minor party in the area, The Literal Deniercrats, would mean so much for their candidate, Ms Emily D'Artagnan-Minge who loves children and wants to see the world. He is also having to deal with the press for being as pissed as a fart on most occasions.

Wednesday, 18 January 2017

Notes from the North of a small island...



This is ready for printing, the moment Scotland decides to break away from England, Wales and Northern Ireland, and joins the EU on its own!

The Euro will come later...

Tuesday, 10 January 2017

Footwork...

Back when I was a teenager, my music master was a dab-hand at the organ, and had risen to some pretty dizzy heights when he'd been younger. I think he got to 'Young Organist of The Year' back in the fifties, so he knew his stuff. On a rare occasion, I'd do the page turning for him.

One Sunday, mum and dad attended school chapel and he put on a real show at the end with Widor's Toccata, which is a real show-off piece demanding great skill and temperament. The music pages just flew by and he was playing his heart out!

Dad of course, immediately went out and bought the record, and played it incessantly. But on the flip side, there was this piece, which I love just as much.


But watching this version, the pedals just fly, and I'm always amazed that such accuracy can be maintained with such a challenging piece of work!