Archive for September, 2009

Aww...don't they look happy?

Aww...don't they look happy?

When my son comes to stay over the weekend,my mother makes Sunday lunch for all of us and my uncle who comes to dinner as well.

There are certain rules concerning this that are inviolate-

  1. You WILL be at the table by the serving-up time,which is always (and forever will be) 1.00pm.
  2. The dinner MUST be eaten at the table,not on your lap in the front room.
  3. The food on offer will ALWAYS be a proper Sunday dinner,with meat and 2 veg,and it will NOT be pizza,pasta or fish&chips,”just for a change.”
  4. There is NO Rule 4
  5. See Rules 1-5

The Mother Unit takes Sunday dinner very seriously.

My son and I have tried to introduce some “flexibility” into the proceedings,to no avail.

Who says you can’t have pizza for Sunday lunch?

Or pasta?

The option is open for me to go to the dreaded Sunday lunch every week before the even more dreaded Tesco trip….but how much horror can a chap take in one day? So I only go when the sprog is staying with me….one time we took it upon ourselves to,shall we say,”opt out” of the banquet….my mother decided to let this one go…her exact words to us being-“Well bloody starve then.” (OK she didn’t entirely say that,but something very close.)

But when we had the audacity to actually turn up late,when we had said we were definitely coming,and THEN insist on eating in the front room….on our laps!!!…..well,the fallout wasn’t pretty.

Suffice it to say,we didn’t do it again.

Don’t get me wrong,though,the Mother Unit is a very good cook and her Sunday lunches are very nice…

I’ve never been a fan of routine…I like to do different things.

It’s about time my mother and uncle embraced change and varied the menu…after all they’ve gone all digital with brand new tellies and everything,so how about a nice curry for Sunday lunch?

Please?

Tesco Rage Sweeps The Nation!!!

Posted: September 27, 2009 in Life
Tags: , , , , ,

IMGIn May of this year,Robert Caton,a 50 year old gentleman from Andover in Hampshire,went up to a security guard in his local Tesco and asked him how long it would take to evacuate the building.

That was shortly before he drove his Rolls Royce through the supermarket window after drinking two bottles of whisky,causing £21,000 worth of damage,and the store lost £41,000 in sales as they cleared up the mess.

It took him 2 go’s to smash through the window.

Six women suffered cuts,bruises and shock and a woman who was 20 weeks pregnant had to go to hospital.

Apparently,he had “simply snapped.”

The court heard he had “saved-up” for a bed and cupboard for his 3yr old son’s bedroom,but the mattress he thought would come with it did not arrive.

Hmmm…..I know how he feels,although I’ve never resorted to ram-raiding Tesco….blowing the bloody place up perhaps…

Thankfully today’s trip was not this eventful,although the Mother Unit did at one point say that having my son and myself with her was like taking 2 kids shopping…we weren’t THAT naughty,honest ;).

Comic relief was provided by a lady who’s trolley was so full she was having trouble pushing the bloody thing,and was not being helped by her husband/boyfriend/significant other who preferred to just watch.

BUT I forgot to get cup-a-soups….

What else did I do over the weekend….well,played videogames with my son,thought about my girlfriend,played cards,told my son about my girlfriend,went out to town,bored my son by telling him about my girlfriend a bit more….came back,drove my son up the wall by dropping interesting snippets of information about my girlfriend in to the conversation….very packed weekend really.

Oh did I tell you I’m going back up to “that London” to see her in a couple of weeks?

I’m a citizen of the universe,me….I have no fear about travelling to the big city..if you knew what was waiting for me,you’d be on the first bus out too.

I’d be quite happy to WALK there….but luckily National Express offer very reasonable rates.

Hmm…I seem to have wandered off topic a tad….do I look like I give a monkeys??

To recap…mad bloke drives his Roller through Tesco window….that’s it.

See you next time !!!

And now,tea.

happy_faceI speak to you today,Constant Reader,as an official Happy Person.

😀 I’m that happy.

But it hasn’t always been so.

There was a time,only a few months back,even,when you could say I had given up caring about anything.I certainly never dreamed that I would find someone so beautiful and special to share my life with…that was the last thing on my mind.

I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to feel anything for someone else.

But now I have someone.

Now…I’m actually looking forward to the future,all the things we will be able to do together (stop sniggering at the back,there)….I mean going places and doing stuff…even normal,everyday stuff like shopping for teabags…which of course is a vitally important aspect of life,but you know what I mean.

I’m sure my son will now stop nagging me about getting a girlfriend…as he used to say when he was little-“Daddy,I’ve got two Daddies,but why have I only got one Mummy?” (He lives with his mother and stepfather.)

I couldn’t answer.

But now I can…although it may alarm my girlfriend (ooh…”my girlfriend”…that sounds good) to know that the last time I was in a proper relationship,about 6 years ago,my son asked her when we were getting married.

Fast working little matchmaker,my boy.

He demands results.

Anyway,I don’t want to spoil anybody’s dinner by banging on about my wonderful love-life….but it is my blog after all,and it should be about things that happen in my life,and not comedy pug dogs….(even though those blogs are incredibly funny and well worth a read if you have not already done so)…what I’m trying to say is,if I can find someone to put up with my strange ways,then anybody can.

By way of explanation,I used to look like this in school-

Hello ladies...

Hello ladies...

NHS glasses….yeah,should most definitely have gone to Specsavers…but Specsavers hadn’t been invented yet,so I was stuck with these easily breakable free plastic specs.

I went through quite a few pairs over the years.

Looking through the boxes of old photos at the Mother Unit’s house,I came across some real horrors from my younger years….and this one isn’t even the worst of them.

I mean,just look….not what you’d call “girl-bait” exactly….I like to think I’ve improved with age…I couldn’t exactly get any bloody worse,to be honest…

Bargain-basement Ronnie Corbett…that was the look I “rocked” during my school-life.

Which look am I rocking now,I hear you ask?

Poor man’s George Clooney….got the grey hair and everything…and we have the same birthday…6th May…what more do you need?

Anyway…that’s it….I need a brew and a biccie,in that order….so expect me to be in a perpetual good mood from now on,you will probably hate me and long for the days of murderous vegetables and cup-a-soups.

Be good,grown-ups !!! 🙂

The Blog Kitten!!

Deidre Macbeth—The Blog Kitten!!

“YOOHOO” MAGAZINE BRINGS YOU BREAKING NEWS!!!

Spatula McMasters writes-

“The residents of the sleepy village of Much-Drooling-Over-Tennant have been orgasmic with excitement over the revelation that its most famous resident,The Blog Dog,had only gone and got himself a “Blog Bird!”

I was invited to the so-called “Fortress of Blogitude”,actually a two bedroom semi on Eccleston Street,opposite the gasworks,to quiz the happy couple.

I was shown into the lounge by the Blog Dog’s assistant, Rizla, who discreetly informed me not to fall asleep in the presence of The Blog Dog,and to keep my “hand on my halfpenny”,whatever that is,to be greeted by the happy couple sitting happily on the sofa.

So tell,us,Blog Dog,how did you two meet?

“Well,Spatula..I may call you Spatula,may’nt I? Good…nice halfpenny by the way.Well,as you no doubt know,someone in my position is no stranger to beautiful young women…I have been romanced by some of the most desirable ladies on the planet in the most exclusive locations…Angelina Jolie in Monte Carlo,Nicole Kidman in Los Angeles,and Eva Green in Venice.

So you can imagine how surprised I was when I met Deidre at the bingo.”

Deidre,tell our readers what you thought of The Blog Dog when you first saw him ?

“Well Spatula,I first saw Bloggers when I was going the loo,it was the excitement of getting a full house you see,there was an almighty ruckus coming from the ladies,women screaming something about a sex-crazed dog hiding in the cubicles and interfering with women,so I went in for a look and there he was with his head down the toilet,someone had stuffed him in there you see,all you could see was his little wiggly tail sticking out,ooh you should have heard the language-”

“Ha ha…I explained about that,I thought I’d seen a Spindly Killer Fish in one of the toilet bowls-”

“-words you’ve never even heard of,I hope he doesn’t kiss his mother with that mouth,that’s all I’m saying,and there was a bird with a plunger and she’d stuck it on his arse and was plunging him up the u-bend-”

“I was looking for the Killer Fish,and that brave young lady was helping me….I have no idea how her top fell off…”

“—anyway after the woman had got him well and truly down the pan,and I mean he was stuck right down in there,and no mistake,they’re only small,pug dogs,see,she buttoned her blouse back up and stomped out,telling me in passing “you want to watch yourself with that one,love”,I went over to pull the little bugger out,poor little doggy,awww,he was all wet,and he looked up at me with his big puppy dog eyes,his face full of gratitude and love for saving his life,and said “Hello beautiful,fancy a shag?”

And what did you say?

“I said,up yours,mate and kneed him in the bollocks.”

“Ha,yes,well,first impressions are always difficult,and I had had a bit of a shock….but I could see that Deidre was the one for me,it was her cute little face and deep brown eyes that did it…so I asked her out.”

Ooh where did you go? LA? Paris? Milan?

“Chessington World of Adventures.”

“Awww yeah he was all shy as we looked at the animals and went on the rides,I wanted him to hold my paw,but I think he was nervous about making the first move.”

“I was just waiting for the right moment…and standing at the monkey house watching a monkey scratch his nuts is not a good moment.”

(not to mention the fact that it would be impossible for a dog and a cat to hold paws and walk at the same time…they’d fall over)

“Yes,thank you, Rizla, I can see you’re just jealous…anyway Spatula,we’re very happy together,aren’t we Deidre?”

“Yeah,we’re very happy,but ooh you should see the state of his kitchen,it’s lucky he met me,you should see the grease on the cooker,it’s shocking I can tell you,he needs looking after,and there’ll be no more adventuring across space and time for you my lad,it’s the gasworks for you,proper 9-5 job is what you need,and you can let the servants go as well-”

(Eh?)

“–and stop looking at Spatula’s halfpenny…and put that away as well,you dirty bugger,you’re half decent.”

The happy couple then posed for photographs,the rights for which the Blog Dog had originally demanded a fee of £10,000…but we eventually agreed,after some “unpleasantness”, on a more realistic sum of £20 and a crate of Brown Ale.

The residents of Much-Drooling-Over-Tennant now have their own Posh ‘n’ Becks–the Blog Dog and Blog Kitten!

Worship them!!

By Spatula McMasters.

Next week-Aliens—Have they come to eat our women and mate with our food? We find out!!!

You’ve been framed!

Posted: September 16, 2009 in Life, Uncategorized

Photo frames…there was a time when shops would have hundreds of them in every size imaginable.The same is true of photo albums…and those little sticky things you put in the corner to hold the photo in place.

A dying breed.

I just need a nice frame to put in a copy of the photo of my son with the snake on holiday,so I can give it to his mother for her 40th birthday next week.

It’s not as easy as you’d think.

I’ve been everywhere…the shops want to sell you their shiny new digital photo frames.Even my mother has been looking at them,but we can’t seem to agree on the best way to use a digital frame.She suggested just switching it on and looking at it until it finishes its business,namely scrolling through all your photos…but these things can store hundreds of pics.I,on the other hand,would leave it on all the time…but that would suck up frightening amounts of electricity.

The Mother Unit warned about it’s carbon footprint….she has NO idea what a carbon footprint actually is,but I suppose she had a point.

So…..not yet sold on the digital photo frames.

I feel as if I’m being very retro wanting an “analogue” photo frame…but then Sam’s mum is very retro herself…a stranger to the PC,can just about work a mobile phone.She’s more at home with a hairdryer and a sunbed.

And while we’re on the subject,when the hell did she become 40 years old?

Gawd….time flies.Where has the last 15 years gone,because that’s how long I’ve known her.

We’ve got a flipping kid as well.

Even when he’s standing in front of me,I’m still amazed that I’ve got a son.

He’s down next weekend,when it is also his mother’s birthday,the 24th September.There is talk of a bit of a do to celebrate…I think I’ve mentioned this before,about her twin sister and them not talking and all that…no wait…sausages,it’s THIS weekend I think,(the do) this Saturday…..hmmm.Not had my invite yet….could be significant,that.

I seem to be turning into a party animal these days…if I’m not gallivanting around the country I’m boozing with old folk.

I may be developing a social life…this is faintly alarming.I thought I was meant to be a hermit.Had the T-shirt and everything,nice cosy little cave,few bearskins on the floor…smart.

But now…I’m making plans.

I never thought I’d see the day again when I looked forward to going somewhere,meeting someone new.

…oh no,there’s a good mood crawling up my leg,stop it someone quick….

…too late 🙂

Wales,as a country,doesn’t really do summer.

It certainly didn’t bother with it this year,but has decided to have a bit of a go at it this week…just to see what it’s like.

Yes…it’s September and it’s bloody boiling,even at night.

Actually it’s been like this for a few years…totally rubbish July and August then lovely weather in September.

Even I cannot resist the heat any longer…I am wearing shorts.

Yes…you have every right to be scared,for I have British legs…white as snow and what’s even worse,only slightly hairy so you can see all my pimples.As my mother said today in Tesco….”I need a bit of gravy browning on those legs.”

‘Tis true.

Although,if Tesco’s customers are anything to go by,I need not worry….let’s just say that some people most definitely shouldn’t wear shorts,or even appear in public in hot weather.Simple as that.

It’s gratifying that my legs aren’t as bad as some.

Anyhoo…today’s trip to Tesco-hell had an extra added ingredient…my Uncle wanted to buy a digital telly!!!

Now,my uncle is not what you’d call an impulsive buyer.He likes to “shop around”…and indeed had already done so before we entered Currys.He had a list of TV’s he’d seen in other shops,subdivided by price,screen size,value for money etc……buying a telly is a serious business for my uncle.

I did suggest doing a bit of “comparethemarket” online,but as the telly he wanted was Matsui,and only available in Currys,this was not an option.Online is the first place I go when I want to buy something,but my mother and uncle (brother & sister) can come up with a dozen reasons why online shopping is more expensive and dangerous and you wouldn’t believe what else….it makes you pregnant as well,probably.

We had a look at the tellies in Currys,then went to Tesco…on the way out of Currys,a staff member asked my uncle if he needed any help,as they do,and he said “I’ve seen the one I want,now I’m going to see if I can get it cheaper somewhere else.”

Would you have the balls to say that? I probably wouldn’t.Anyway it turned out he couldn’t get it cheaper anywhere else,so we went back to Currys after the Hell-shop and he finally bought the bloody television.

Now all he has to do is work the blooming thing.

I dread the day he wants to buy a computer.

The Tesco mission was mercifully horror-free,probably because of the weather…slightest bit of sun and the whole town goes down the beach.The Uncle doesn’t just limit his shopping savvy to electrical goods though…you know the bit on the shelf tickets that tell you how much,say,each toilet roll is in a pack of 12 or whatever…he reads those,then does a bit of mental calculation,compares the other brands for value for money,says things like,”well if I got that one,it’s still not as good as if I got 2 of the ones on special offer,because I’d have more for the same price as that one at twice the price etc etc .”

The Mother Unit is exactly the same….I go through this every week….and you know what supermarkets are like,they do BOGOFs like mad to get you to buy things you wouldn’t normally buy.

And if there is an item for sale with a wrong ticket,if something has been increased in price but the ticket shows the lower price,then my mother and uncle will find it….Tesco is as big as an airport,yet they can zero in on them with radar-like precision.

Is that all they can do?

Of course not….they have skills.

If there is a person at one of the checkouts who has bought something that has a problem with it,or they are causing a delay for some reason,my mother will find them..not just in Tesco,but in every bloody shop.Many is the time she’s told me “oh I was in Boots (or wherever) the other day and there was this woman in front of me making a fuss about something she had bought and there was something wrong with it etc etc.”

My mother is a magnet for trouble……she can find people making scenes in shops from 5 miles away.

Myself,I tend to avoid such things if I can…I like to watch the proceedings from a distance,but the mother likes to get in the thick of it.

But overall,it was a good day…I didn’t have to ram anyone out of the way.This could be a new beginning in my relationship with Tesco….the anticipation is almost too much to bear.

I can’t wait for next Sunday…

I do like a nice cuppa.

Preferably with a few biscuits…and then a few more biscuits.

In fact,I get most of my nutrition from biscuits….you just can’t beat a custard cream dunked in a fresh cup of  Typhoo.

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach….this is perfectly true.

I’m anybody’s for a chocolate hobnob….especially if it’s accompanied by a cuppa.

But my particular poison is custard creams….oh yes.

Oh yes....

Oh yes....

TEA.

That is all.

You see,I am not a coffee person.Tried it once,hated it…although funnily enough there was a time when I didn’t even like tea,just drank squash or whatever all the time.Then one fateful day I tried a cuppa….and haven’t looked back since.

It is the cup that cheers…where would Eastenders be without someone making “a pot of tea” every five minutes when there’s some kind of family crisis?

The best cup of the day?—-The first one in the morning…I cannot function without it.I am supping on a particularly fine cuppa crafted by myself as I write this bloggage…tea is the perfect brain lubricant.* (*Tea should NOT be used as an actual lubricant as you might burn your bits)

I am trying to make an effort to eat healthier,and am soon to invest in a blender,for the fabrication of smoothies thereof.All this 5-a-day business…I don’t even get 5-a-week. The Mother Unit has got one knocking around the house doing nothing so I shall inspect the object when i’m over there next.

Who knows I might even start exercising….and I will need to look my best soon….first impressions are so important 😉

————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

It’s that time of the month again….no,not that time,or that one….well obviously not that one.

I speak of course about the delivery of the greatest magazine currently in publication….

Fortean Times!

The self-styled “journal of strange phenomena.”

Some of you may know it….I have been reading it for flipping years and have every issue since 1992.

I never throw a copy away….it’s a man thing.

Conspiracy theories,strange thingies,weird happenings,bizarre coincidences and nasty blobby whatsits…they’re all in there.

This month’s issue features the story of a girl who was brained by a falling tortoise,and a man who over the years has filed more than 4000 lawsuits against various people,entities,objects and concepts,including Plato,Nostradamus,the Lincoln Memorial and the Eiffel Tower.Well,you’ve got to have a hobby….his latest legal action is against the Guinness Book of Records to stop it from naming him the world’s most litiginous man in the next edition.

There’s no pleasing some people.

I highly recommend you pick up a copy….it’s better for you than OK! or Heat.

Katie Price is never featured.

Feed your head.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Me totally rocking the tuxedo look....

Me totally rocking the tuxedo look....

The name’s Dog….Blog Dog.

Double OH-WOOF.

Licensed to-

(Lick your own privates?)

-kill,actually.

Now,as you might expect,a lot of famous people ask for my help,from Presidents to pop stars,from Ronald Reagan to Shakin’ Stevens….now there’s a young man with talent.

My tales of derring-do are well known…far be it for me to seek personal gain from constantly banging on about my adventures.Fame,fortune,totty…I crave not these things.

(That’s good because you never get any of those things.)

You’re just jealous.

Anyway,as I was saying,most of my escapades are the stuff of legend…but less well known are my little “jobs” for Her Majesty,The Queen (God Bless Her.)

The Queen (God Bless Her) has always been a keen fan of my adventures,and so it came as no surprise to me to be summoned into the presence of the old girl one crisp,autumn day,to help with a “little problem.”

I hopped in the Aston Martin BD-5 and zoomed towards Buck House,where I was ushered into the presence of HM The Queen (God Bless Her)

“It’s like this,Blog Dog.” said Lizzie as she rested the Royal Posterior on one of the servants.I did likewise.

“One has been and gone and had one’s copy of the Dreaded Necronomnomicon stolen from one’s Top Secret Library Of Very Scary Books,and one would rather like to have it back.”

The Necronomnomnomicon!!! The most dangerous-

“It’s just two “noms” actually,BD.” quipped Lizzie.

The Necronomnomicon!!! The most dangerous book ever written!!! Believed to have been inscribed in the living blood of a million virgins by the “Madder -Than- A -Blender- Full- Of- Elephants” Arab,Abdul Al-Jolson,a billion years ago on the planet Myopia!!! It contains dreadful invocations and unmentionable spells which deranged disciples of the Great Old Ones can use to summon up all kinds of spooky,blobby shit!!!

“Yes,that’s the one.We don’t want just any old deranged disciple of the Great Old Ones using it to summon up all kinds of spooky,blobby shit….”

I started to suspect that the Queen (GBH) had very great mental powers…pretty impressive for an old bird of 80-odd.

“I’ll give you “old bird” you bottom-chaser!” snapped The Madge,and smacked me a good ‘un round the ear with her Royal Smacking Stick.Gathering her composure, she fixed me with the Royal Stare.

“One,Lizzie The Queen (God Bless Me),hereby commands you to find the Necronomnomicon and right royally twat them what ‘alf-inched it.One suggests that one transports one’s doggy posterior down to the Top Secret Library to look for clues…..you will also meet your assistant,specially chosen by one.”

I took offense at this…Queen or no Queen (GBH),I always work alone.I can do more damage that way.

“With respect,Your Majesty,I don’t need an assistant,they always get in the way and need rescuing and all that while I’m trying to save the entire world and look cool in the process,so no thank you.”

“But it’s their first mission after graduating from the Secret Agent Academy….”

“Too inexperienced.”

“The agent may be only 19 years old,but….”

“Too young.”

“Ah well,she’ll be very disappointed.”

“I’ll give her a weeks’s trial.”

****INTERMISSION—Choc ices and albatrosses are available in the foyer****

She was waiting for me as I walked confidently into the Top Secret Library,bending over a computer and looking brainy,wearing a skirt that could double as a scarf.

I liked her immediately.The rest of her was pretty good too.

She turned to face me

“Ah,you must be…?”

“Dog…Blog Dog.And you are….?”

“Snockers…..Norma Snockers.Agent Double Oh-Phwoar.”

“But of course you are.” She did indeed resemble the proverbial “dead-heat in a Zeppelin race.”

“Let’s get to work.”  Ooh,all business…I like that in a woman.

Norma slinked off towards the bookshelves,gesturing me to follow.The movement of her lower portions was somewhat hypnotic.

She led me towards a suspiciously book-shaped hole in the Spooky Shit section.

“This is where the Necronomnomicon was kept.”

The Necronomnomicon!!!!

“Stop that.”

“Sorry.”

“And that had most definitely better be your paw on my leg.”

“Sorry again.”

“We believe the thief got in by using a laser to cut a hole in the 10 foot thick steel roof,abseiled down past the mini-gun emplacements,distracted the rabid Rottweilers with some sort of Rottweiler-distracting device,wrestled the alligator into unconsciousness,then casually came in here and stole the Necronomnomicon-”

The Necronomnomicon!!!!

“I thought I told you to stop that.Anyway,that was the easy part…actually being able to touch the book in the first place would have required a magical education far outside the abilities of normal men.”

I was beginning to have some very nasty suspicions.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“I have one clue,a single hair found in the mouth of the alligator,it must have taken a bite out of the culprit before it sparked out.” Agent Snockers produced a little bag out of her pocket,and squatted down close to show it to me.I could smell her perfume….Tweed,by Lentheric.

Classy bitch.

I trained my well-trained eye on the object in question…it didn’t look like human hair,or dog hair,which admittedly didn’t narrow it down much.

I asked Norma to come closer so I could have a good old sniff of it,and,after smacking me around the ear a few times,realised I meant the hair,and opened the bag.

My blood ran cold.

(It does that a lot,doesn’t it?)

Well,you see,I deal in horror on a daily basis…it’s how I roll.

“By the Gods!” I exclaimed.

“Have you seen this hair before?” asked Norma.

“Yes…it is a cat hair!”

“Not a cat hair!!!! ” gasped Norma.

“Yes…a cat hair!” I replied.

“Not a cat hair!!!! ” gasped Norma.

“That’s very annoying.”

“Sorry.

“This is the work of only one cat,and one cat only…the Crown Prince of Feline Felony,that despoiler of virgins,avoider of taxes,pincher of bottoms…”

(Sounds like you.)

Be quiet.

“You don’t mean—?”

Norma clutched me tightly….things were looking up.

“Yes I do mean—–Count Mephistopheles Von Tiddles!!!”

My arch-enemy!!!

Norma fainted.Things were indeed looking up.

Next episode-Dr? NO WAY!

Lucky? Balls!

Posted: September 7, 2009 in Life, Stuff & nonsense, Uncategorized
Tags: ,

hhhjhjhjThat lottery thing.

What’s it all about,eh?

The “idiot’s tax” as some people call it,I do it every week (ha ha) and I have never won anything that could honestly be called “life-changing.”

I sometimes win the lowest amount,about £6.00, on the Euro-lottery,but never anything on the main Lotto draw.I do the Euro one because of the obscenely huge jackpots…..£50 million+ notes would sit very comfortably in my bank account.

I often ask God,in my prayers by the side of the bed last thing at night,to give me a chance to show that wealth wouldn’t spoil me.

He hasn’t got back to me on that one yet.

Winning a squillion quid would certainly win you a lot of friends,and introduce you to relatives you never knew you had.Have you written your list of which ones to give money to?

I have….although,if I’m honest,I don’t think I’d tell anyone,that’s why I don’t understand why jackpot winners go public.Telling the world you’ve got millions doesn’t sound very safe.I’ve read stories about people being killed for their money…often by members of their own family,especially in the USA where the jackpots are usually hundreds of millions.

Some have said that winning the lottery was the worst thing that ever happened to them….think about that for a minute.We dream of all the things we would be able to buy and do if we won but are totally unprepared when we do.

That’s why I’d keep it dark.I would ask for no publicity,just bank it and stay mum.If I won something daft like £50 million I’d tell my family that it was just,say,£5 million…that way I could give my family a slice and don’t have to worry about people getting to excited about such a massive amount.I would put the rest in the bank and let it sit there,write a will leaving everything to my son,so he can have a nice surprise when I peg off.

But sometimes the Euro lotto reaches £100+….what would you do with that kind of money? How many cars and houses does one person need?  The interest alone would be £100,000 +….a month.

You could give half to Battersea Dogs Home and still live it up.

I wouldn’t want a yacht moored in Monte Carlo and houses all over the world…you can only live in them one at a time.

I would be happy to still live in the town where I’m living now,even though it’s a dump…I would buy a nice house and stay out of everyone’s way,mind my own business…..I wouldn’t flaunt my wealth.

Oh,and of course I would have a supermodel wife who suddenly finds me irresistibly attractive…funny that.

Actually…no,I wouldn’t have a supermodel wife,although it would be fun to do a Bernie Ecclestone and grow fat,grey and toothless and have a 20 yr old wife,who’s with me for my “personality.”

But rest assured,I would still be Twittering and blogging….and you wouldn’t know any different. 🙂

Farewell,and may your balls always be lucky!!

crazy_houseI want to move house.

Not that the house I’m in now is particularly horrid…it isn’t,it’s actually very nice and cosy for one person.

The trouble is the location….for some reason a family of drug-dealing chavs were allowed to move in a couple of doors along,and regularly have raging arguments involving smashing bottles and smashing each other.

There are an unknown number of people living there,including a young mother and her small children,the kids being witness to all the aggro.Of course,all the chavs from the area congregate there,pissed out of their skulls, and have a nice little shout and a fight…

…and the men are even worse.

It is a source of amazement to my neighbours and myself how they can afford to live in that house…unless they’re dealing drugs,of course.The police usually come round to drag the girl’s brother off to the nick,and in fact one night it took 4 policemen to wrestle him into the van,and I’m not talking about the drippy types off The Bill,I mean real coppers built like brick out-houses…and the boy is shorter than I am.

So I want out,or I’ll have to get a rifle and do a Charles Bronson….the trouble is they breed so fast,like Alien…there is one Chav Queen crapping out new baby chavs every couple of weeks….interbreeding is rampant.But amazingly,despite the high level of scum,they hardly ever knife or shoot each other…just use their fists and shout a lot….

…and the men are even worse….ha bloody ha.

There are a lot of yobs…but in truth,they are slightly rubbish.If you pulled a gun on one of them,they’d probably wee themselves.

But to where should I move?

My dream house would be a whacking great castle on top of an impenetrable mountain,preferably with a dragon guarding the entrance.

But seriously I am very fussy when it comes to location.As I don’t drive I need somewhere within walking distance of the town,with 2 bedrooms and preferably 2 reception rooms…I need the space to put all my stuff.

And of course nowhere near any chavs…or people who have chav friends.Sadly the town I live in has probably the biggest number of braindead scratters in Wales….the estate where they “live” was only built to keep the police busy,the local paper survives only because of the high level of crimes they commit that need to be reported-mostly involving drink of course.

Ah,Carmarthen….you glorious shit-hole.

I think I might move into the country…get back to my roots…the great Welsh countryside-where men are men and sheep look over their shoulders a lot.

Or maybe not.

I’m going to view a property on the morrow…I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Beam me up,Scotty.