Thursday, October 04, 2007

Celebrity Kidnap

I am working on a pilot for a new Reality TV programme. It is called Celebrity Kidnap and the idea is that each week 2 people compete to see how much money they can raise from ransoms paid for celebrities they have kidnapped. It will be a winner as it has all the elements of great TV. It has famous people in stressful situations, adventure, small amounts of criminality (ahem..), ordinary people getting rich, glamour, seediness and there's a winner and a loser.
So far I am holding Bobby Davro in my garden shed. His ransom has been set at £15 but as yet there are no takers. I have Basil Brush chained to the Black and Decker Workmate. He can walk for £10. Mr Roy will cost you £5 more. I've took Elaine "EP here" Paige hostage but she is really annoying me now and if you'll take her off my hands I'll give you £20 a signed copy of the "Evita CD" she takes everywhere with her. My loft is full of the panpipe-playing Bolivian tramps Incantation who should raise about £50 for the set. The only problem there is that they are eating my chilli con carne faster than I can make the stuff. Also, the loft is beginning to smell a bit.
My efforts aren't going too well but my competitor, Jack, is planning on kidnapping someone called Justin Timberlake. I've never heard of him but Jack tells me that he's a bit like a modern day Roger Whittaker. Jack is hoping for $5-$10 million dollars.
He assures me that we should cover all demographics with this line up, make millions and soon be in a position to be featured on MTV Cribs. I just hope they don't want to film in my loft.

Friday, August 24, 2007

WAGs

It probably seems churlish to question a new word in the language so soon after it has fallen into common usage but does the word WAGs really convey what it describes? The name for the rich and glamorous Wives And Girlfriends of overpaid football players doesn't describe the full range of relationships. Would Spouses, Lovers And Girlfriends be a better description?

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Livin' La Vida loca - repeat and fade

When Ricky Martin sings his classic hit “Livin’ La Vida Loca” live on stage, he often ad libs at the end. For all his fans across the globe who can’t find them anywhere else on the web, here are some of the lines he uses to close his favourite song:
“She gets short of breath, she’s a heavy smoker,
She like Batman films, her favourite baddie’s the Joker,
She’s a steam railway fan, she likes to be the stoker,
She paints in monochrome, mainly with burnt ochre
Come on,
She likes soccer administrators; she used to know Ted Croker
She likes stately homes, her favourite Hall is Holker,
She loves jewellery, she likes to wear a choker
She loves playing cards, she’s fond of a little poker
Come on
Livin’ la vida loca

Friday, July 20, 2007

New definitions

Cardiologist - a woman (or man) who repairs cardigans.

Coo!

Collar doves are well-known for their repetitive but catchy calling. So much so, that they now have their own "Download Chart" on the internet. Here are this weeks top 5 tunes downloaded by collar doves:
1. Coo-Coooo Coo by Cool Dove
2. Coo-Coooo Coo by The Koller Dovez
3. Coo-Coooo Coo by The Dove Formerly Known as Collar
4. Coo-Coooo Coo by Dollar Cove
5. Coo-Coooo Coo by Dove (feat. Collar)

Next week Status Quo are due to release a new single "Coo-Coooo Coo" which they hope could hit this niche chart, but pop experts think it may be too repetitive, even for a collar doves' taste.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

2012 London Olympics

A colleague of mine has just come back to work for the third morning in a week having had her children's school sports day cancelled 10 minutes before it was due to start. On the first occasion it had rained the night before and although the sun was shining the staff were concerned that residual water could be dangerous. On the second day there was a heavy dew, causing cancellation. On the third day, despite the sun shining and the dew being moderate, the sky looked a bit cloudy so it was cancelled again. All this in the interests of the children's safety.
If this is how this great nation approaches sport amongst it's under 11s, what happens when the Olympics arrive in 2012? I wouldn't like to be the one to tell the Greco-Roman wrestlers that their event is off because we haven't PAT tested the kettle in the Olympic Arena's staff room. What if there is a moderate breeze when the sailing is about to start? Will they all be told to abandon ship? I dread to think what the Risk Assessment for the Javelin will yield. Can we allow competitive cycling to take place when the riders could get badly scuffed knees or friction burns if they come off on those indoor tracks. I fear carnage if we allow the world's athletes to compete unsupervised and not wearing the right PPE.

Just a thought...

It takes all sorts to make a world music album....

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Louis Pasteur's chat-up line?

I wonder if Louis Pasteur ever said "do you want pasteurising, 'cos pasteurised is best?" by way of a chat-up line to his wife? I wonder if she replied "Louis, I'll be happy if it comes up to my chest!" If so, did it tickle old Louis?

He may need to have heard the Benny Hill song "Ernie", that came out 80 years after his death for this to be funny, but you never know.....

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Ugly Duckling?

"Just because you don't look like the other girls at school, doesn't mean we don't love you darling" I told our teenage daughter this morning. "Talk to the beak, the paws ain't listening" she said to me. Which illustrates my point, really.

Latin Phrases

For those of you who struggle with Latin, here is a well-known Latin phrase translated into English (UK): Quid Pro Quo means "I've booked a well-known legendary rock band to play at your party and it will only cost £1!"

Friday, June 01, 2007

Competitive recycling

Hey, loser! Are you too stupid to recycle? Which part of recycle don’t you understand? You’ve got 6 black sacks full of rubbish and only 2 bags for recycling; we’ve got a paper pile, a cardboard pile, a bag of plastics and only 1 sack of rubbish. To make matters worse, your recycling is 100% beer cans. Are you too smashed to save the planet?
OK, I admit it, I’m a competitive recycler, but a man has to have a competitive hobby and I’m not terribly good at football.
Do you derive a perverse sense of superiority when you walk out into the street on recycling day to see that you are the most eco-aware family in your area? I know I do, it is the only positive aspect of having two compost heaps for all green waste, separate trips to the tip 8 miles away for batteries, metal, fabrics and large items and regular car rides to the bottle bank, not to mention trips out to the large recycling depot for all the paper and cardboard from work because the local authority don’t recycle trade waste.
I do wish that everybody would make an effort to break down their waste into all the reusable elements and that our local authority would actually recycle it rather than taking all the separate piles of waste and throwing it in the same landfill.
Call me a hippie dreamer, but it would be good wouldn’t it?

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

What kind of uncle are you?

The phone rings and in the absence of caller ID, it has to be answered. “Hi uncle, can you help me?” says a familiar voice. What does the young lad want, I wonder? Does he need some help rebuilding a mountain bike? Does he want to come snowboarding in Zermatt? Does he want to join me marlin fishing in Mauritius? Perhaps he wants to talk over some teenage guy issues? Does he need help stripping down a motorbike engine? It is great being an uncle, especially to such fine young men. The eldest is intelligent, but isn’t that bothered by school things, he’s a lightning fast sprinter, he’s good looking and loves being outdoors. His younger brother is full of energy and life, loves doing stunts on his bike and getting dirty. He’s also got a cheeky smile and is great with people.
What does he want? “I’ve got some really boring homework and need to know what DNA stands for.” So there you have it. I’m the uncle they ring for really dull homework answers. I’m not “adventure uncle” – the extreme sportsman - they’ve got one of those. I’m not the rugged outdoors uncle; they’ve got one of those too. I’m the one they call when something obscure and not even remotely exciting comes up in homework. I’m “lo-tech Google man” for boys without internet access.
The only consolation is that they called me and that I knew the answer. I’d rather be out on a boat on the open ocean with them, but I suppose I’ll settle for being useful, I know my limits.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Customer Service

I've just done one of the receptionist's post-induction training quizzes at work. I scored appallingly, but there again, I haven't been trained as a receptionist. I got most of the answers wrong. The only one I got right was: "A customer comes in and is loud and abusive to you. How do you deal with the situation?" My answer was "Be aggressive and insulting in return, preferably calling their sexuality and parent's marital status into question as well. When questioned later by your manager, deny everything". This appears to be our official customer complaint policy.

Friday, May 18, 2007

New books in an old series

No 50 - Car crash survival techniques for Dummies

New books in an old series

No 49 - Avoiding germs in babies’ mouths for Dummies
(Not for sale in the USA)

New books in an old series

No 48 – Modelling in shop windows for Dummies

New books in an old series

No 47 – Low Self-Esteem for Dummies

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Treacle McBeagle

Is time running out for the much-loved fictional dog, Treacle McBeagle? After being revived in 1998, the publishers of her new books are about to hang up her lead for the last time. “Despite our best efforts to modernise the stories, sales have been disappointing and it isn’t financially viable to continue” they announced today.
Created in the 1950’s, author Clemency Pedant wrote the stories to amuse the children at the Sunday School run by her and her preacher husband, Rev Brimstone Pedant. They tell of a talking beagle called Treacle McBeagle and her owner, a shy schoolgirl called Morag McNicnac. After being picked up by publishers DC Thomson, Treacle McBeagle quickly became the best –selling children’s book character in Britain. A generation of children lapped up books like “Treacle McBeagle and the naughty cat” in which Treacle rescues a ball of wool from a mischievous feline, allowing grandma to finish repairing Dad’s slippers, “Treacle McBeagle and the missing apples” in which Treacle finds the missing apples and saves owner Morag from being slippered by her father, “Treacle McBeagle tells the truth” in which Treacle tells the village Bobby what really happened to his bike and saves Morag from being slippered by her father and the classic “Treacle McBeagle and the stolen slippers” in which Treacle steals Dad’s slippers to prevent Morag being slippered for something she actually did do wrong. After Clemency’s death in 1958, her husband wrote one book, “Treacle McBeagle and the evils of drink” in which Treacle drags an inebriated tramp into the church where he hears a sermon from a charismatic and debonair preacher called Fiery Pendant which converts him to a life of sobriety. It failed to sell as parents deemed it unsuitable for young readers and as a result no further books were published.
Publishers Doomsbury bought the rights in 1998 and resurrected the series with a modern twist. The authors were given the brief “to make them relevant and interesting to the young readers of today and capture the zeitgeist of what it is to be aged 6-11 and middle class”. Morag became a feisty outspoken and precocious child and Treacle adopted a more street-wise talking style, dropping her trademark Scottish colloquialisms, in favour of gangsta rap slang. A talking dog that says “crivvens!” when startled was not deemed sufficiently hip for today’s youngsters. However, in modernising the stories they lost much of the charm and innocence of the originals. In “Treacle McBeagle buys to let” Treacle finds a bag of stolen diamonds and uses the reward money to buy a run down house which her and Morag convert into apartments for rent, in “Treacle McBeagle averts a Greek tragedy ” Treacle saves the life of Greek fisherman who rewards every child in Morag’s school with a free lifetime’s supply of Taramasalata and in “Treacle McBeagle travels carbon neutral” Treacle is flown to Bolivia on Virgin Airlines to see Virgin’s tree planting scheme to counter the carbon emissions from their flights.
The last two books, “Treacle McBeagle – smacked up bitch” in which Treacle appears on MTV with Snoop Dogg and “Treacle McBeagle goes to the hajj - beagle in a burqa” became the most spectacular publishing failures of recent years.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Animal Based Sayings

I recently received a letter which said: “Dear Sir, we would like to remind you that under ABSO regulations, the phrase ‘as hungry as an ant’ is not an officially sanctioned expression and must not be used again”. It was on letterheaded paper from a body called the Animal Based Sayings Organisation. It would appear that they control all usage of animal related expressions in the world.
I had casually compared my hunger to that of an ant in a passing comment in the kitchen. How they overheard me I will never know, but now that they have slapped an ABSO on me, I will have to compare my hunger to that of a wolf, or else eat something and stop whingeing about it. I could argue that ants can be hungry too, and a modern family taking their dinners through to the living room on trays to eat in front of the TV do have similarities to ants – especially if the “dum, dum, dum, dum, dum” music is playing in the background. I suspect however that arguments could be futile, their letter states that anybody who transgresses a second time will be “hunted down like a wounded fox by a pack of hounds.”
As well as being omnipresent, the ABSO also has a surprisingly long memory. I was also warned not to restore use of the Rodent scale for drinking session measurement. This was something we introduced in our college days to gauge the quantity of alcohol we had or intended to consume. It came from the expression “to get ratted” which only covered one level of debauchery. If you wanted to go out for a swift half then getting “ratted” wasn’t appropriate. Hence we coined the expression “to get field voled”. A leisurely drink would get you “moused” and a major bender would see you “coypu’d”. The bureaucrats at ABSO have decreed that it only “ratted” or “pickled as a newt” is permissible.
It looks like the nanny state gone mad, I thought. Shortly after thinking this, I had a call from ABSO reminding me that, technically, goats were a patriarchal breed and the correct phrase should be “billy state”.
It looks like I may have to change my leopard in mid-stream and let sleeping cats lie if I want to avoid being a dog’s dinner.

Must go, I can hear barking outside.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Slavery

If the current campaign to mark the 200th anniversary of the abolition of slavery with a formal state apology and the payment of compensation to the descendants of slavery succeeds, we may have a case to start a new campaign. If the criteria used in this case are upheld, then surely the descendants of the Anglo- Saxon victims of Viking rape and pillage in the 10th century deserve an apology and a return of Danegeld from the Norwegian and Danish governments.

Those who clamour for an apology for slavery are surely taking a few facts and ignoring a whole host of others in making their case. It cannot be denied that it was cruel of white slave traders to take slaves from Africa to the new world and force them to work on plantations amidst much brutality. However, this does ignore the fact that many slaves were sold into slavery by black slave traders, that living conditions for most people in the UK were truly appalling in the eighteenth century, that most working people had very few freedoms and were treated brutally by the authorities if they stepped out of line. The average life expectancy for poor people in the UK in 1807 was 20. Descendants of former slaves are now free to live in the UK, the 13th wealthiest country in the world, descendants of those not sold into slavery enjoying a much lower standard of living I would venture to suggest. The gruesome instruments of torture and branding used on slaves are very similar to those than can be found in any small town museum throughout the UK. They were used just as mercilessly on supposedly “free” citizens.

If my plan to secure money from the Danish and Norwegian governments fails, compensation could be funded via the UK tax system. Anybody whose surname is “The Unready”, “The Confessor” or “The Great” would be entitled to receive money from taxes levied on anybody whose surname was “Bloodaxe” or “Forkbeard” or “Harefoot”. This I think is a simple, fair and effective solution. I may have been touched by the hand of genius.