Saturday, 31 January 2009


Oh Mr Hyde, why do you hide, within my soul so deep,
Lurking there, without a care, dormant and asleep.
Never sure, when the door, will open to reveal,
Your poisoned ways, undying shame, my smile for you to steal.

Why do you come, to spoil the fun, and eat away my pride,
You don’t belong, so please be gone, it’s surely time you died.
No request, no behest, no welcome mat for you,
Bad pennies return, my wishes you spurn, your arrogance ensues.

Oh Mr Hyde, isn’t it time, for you to leave these shores,
Pack your bags, don’t want your rags, your methods or your cause.
You’ve stayed too long, I’ve sung your song, forever and a day,
You’re not my friend, when will it end, please be on your way.

Friday, 23 January 2009

Boss dreams 2.......The drugs don't work.......

It’s happened again. I didn’t want it to, I didn’t ask for it, but there is no denying that it has. A few blogs ago I told you that I had a dream, where my boss was chasing me round my garden with his winkle out, trying to urinate on me, whilst laughing manically like a demented Bond villain. Well it’s happened again, not the same dream, but equally as disturbing.

I was in Spain on a family holiday. All seemed perfectly normal, I was sitting at the bar with my brother-in-law planning the evenings drinking, Miss Marple was shopping, and the outlaws were bickering. Then all of a sudden from nowhere, I am in some kind of supermarket.

I am wandering up and down the deserted aisles, when Boss walks round the corner. Thankfully his equipment was stowed, and we entered into a little chat. All seemed normal, until he told me that instead of having an anus like your regular human, at some point in his life doctors had attached a wheel to his bottom hole! Not a big wheel you understand, just a small caster like thing, like you would get on a shopping trolley or something.

Well this was bizarre enough, but the bit that really freaked me out, was that he told me that in 1977 he was world disco dancing champion. I immediately had visions of him scooting across the floor on his ‘wheel’ wearing a John Travoltaesque white suit, with all his arms and legs in the air, to the thumping sounds of ’Disco inferno’. It was at this point, that Miss Marple informed me later, that I woke up laughing manically.

I of course blame the concoction of drugs I have been taking lately. I have been suffering form raging tooth ache, and a cold. So I have been pumping ibuprofen, cacodemol, lemsip, and anything else I could lay my hands on down my neck, with reckless abandon! This must be the reason for the dream, and not my encroaching madness!

The tooth has been bad. Bloody wisdom tooth. The worst kind of teeth. They are like the skinheads of the teeth world. Nothing but bloody trouble. I did discover that the only times that it didn’t hurt, were during the effects of the drugs, or during marital relations. Unfortunately Miss Marple very quickly put a halt on the notion of me taking her three times a day after meals! Bloody selfish if you ask me.

Oh God lets move on from Boss dreams and illness, what else has been happening.
Well he is there. Obama has plonked his fanny in the oval office. Did make me cringe a little with the balls up on the swearing in bit. Made me cringe even more when I learned that they had to do it again, just in case some pointless little pedantic, nit picking adenoidal voiced train spotter in a years time, having spent every waking moment on the internet, announced that the cock up meant that he wasn’t officially the president.

Although I suppose that isn’t as bad as his predecessor, who got bored with waiting for the votes to be counted, and so just announced himself as the president. Brilliant, I wish I had thought of that during my three attempts at passing my motorcycle test. What I should have done, is just before the examiner got to the “I am sorry Mr Mule, but you haven’t passed” bit, I should have just jumped in with “I have passed, brilliant, thanks a lot, see ya.” Poor old Al Gore. The real president who had the audacity to play by the rules. Well goodbye George Bush, and good bloody riddance. You bloody idiot.

Moving on, something else that caught my eye, was the thing about some society or other that paid for adverts to be plastered on the side of buses, saying that “There probably is no God, so stop worrying about it, and enjoy your life” Or words to that effect anyway. Of course the religious nutters jumped up and got hot under the collar. They challenged the advertisement with the advertising standards committee, by saying that this was not a fair and reasonable advert, because these people could not SUBSTANTIATE The claim that there was no God! All of this said with not even a hint of irony!!!

Had another ‘getting old’ occurrence the other day. Men of my age have problems with dribbles. It’s a common thing, but when we go for a wee, no matter how much we shake, siphon, squeeze, pump etc, there will always be a small amount of wee that dribbles when you replace the old fella. It’s just unfortunately one of those things. The other day, I did the wee, then pumped, shook blah blah blah, and re-established him back home. Just at this moment, I passed wind, and a torrent of wee cascaded down my leg! I suppose it will be pampers next. Oh well.

Saw an item on the news last night about the increase of swearing in society. Some reporter went out to one of the provinces, and started asking ‘The great’ British public it’s opinion. Inevitably there was the bloke with the handle bar moustache, tweed jacket, and a copy of ‘Country Life’ under his arm, who came out with the usual “Well, it’s appalling, and basically shows a lack of vocabulary.”……..OH FUCK OFF YOU CUNT!…….No it doesn’t, you enervating, doltish, peremptory twat.

There are times when only a bloody good swear word will do. Like when I just called you a “cunt“. “Silly man” really wouldn’t have cut it would it? People are in no doubt now to my opinion of you. Stephen Fry has said the very same thing, you are going to accuse him of a lack of vocabulary are you? You pompous arse.

I have been seeing a lot of adverts lately for country music compilation albums. They are the adverts that infect brilliant channels like the discovery channels, or Dave before the actual proper programmes start. My God country Music is fucking appalling isn’t it. Don’t get me wrong, being something of a musician myself, I can appreciate the brilliant guitar and fiddle playing involved, but it’s the sickening sentimental crap that makes you want to shoot them with their own Colt 45‘s.

These bloody adverts go on for about twenty bloody minutes. Some big name in the country scene “Ya awlllllll” or other will be sitting on his porch, or standing in front of a roaring fire, as he tells you all about this one hundred cd box set, that contains over four million of your favourite country songs, that isn’t available in the shops. There will then be a compilation of clips of dodgy looking blokes with beards, and awful bloody cowboy hats “Yee Haring” and whittling on about their wives running off with a rodeo stars etc. Or women with ludicrously big, bleached blond hair, telling us all that she loves her man and all that crap, while in the background, some bastard will be playing that bloody God awful slide guitar thing, crying and wailing all over it.

Jesus, do these people not have mirrors in their houses. Fuck me, I am no fashion aficionado, but these people look bloody ridiculous. Sickly sweet, sentimental, moms apple pie, sitting on a porch, good old boys, moonshine swigging, pick up driving, mullet wearing, Billie Jo chasing, double barrelled name owning , arseholes, that think the abolishment of slavery, was the day the world ended!…….

Gasp, come on son…….breath, breath, it’s ok, deep breaths. I am pretty sure that the northern half of America, would very much like to saw off the southern half, and let it float off into oblivion. It must be like the embarrassing retarded younger brother, that they wish they had never had.
The frightening thing is, is that there are people over here that like all this stuff, and have places where they go and pretend they are in Kentucky, or Mississippi. Specialist clubs that cater for their secret perversions, where they can dress as cow people, or whatever the sexually inclusive term for them is! Where they can do illegal dancing, and dress like cow people, take part in illicit activities such as listening to country music, and lassoing one another. We all know one or two don’t we? ;)

I’m off before Wyatt Erp runs me outta town. Just for Welsh girl and me, there will be some more filthy Noddy stories very soon. Goodbye all.

Wednesday, 7 January 2009

Noddy and Bigears go fishing.......

It was a lovely sunny day, just perfect for a fishing trip. Noddy loaded all the fishing tackle into the Noddy car, and shouted for Bigears to hurry up. Bigears emerged from the house looking very bleary eyed.
“Oh dear Bigears” said Noddy, “You do look a little tired today.”
“Well I was up till two thirty on sky plus talking to Melinda on Titstation.”
“Oh crumbs, our phone bill is going to be horrendous, it’s a good job the calls are itemised. It will be easy to see who owes what, I only call my mother and my agent.”

Bigears raised his eyebrows and lit his seventh Benson of the day. They both climbed into the Noddy car, and pootled off down the leafy lane on their way to a wonderful days fishing.
“Ah this is the life eh Bigears” said Noddy as he reclined into his deckchair, “The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and here we are, two chaps, just fishing.”
Bigears coughed, “Yes, you are right Noddy, I do enjoy our fishing trips.”

As Noddy and Bigears watched the floats gently bobbing up and down in the river, they heard a familiar chugging in the distance. Even in his less than ideal state, Bigears new exactly what this meant, he sank down lower into his deckchair, and pulled his baseball cap over his face.
“Oh look who it is Bigears,” said Noddy excitedly.

A look of slight panic, but also of annoying inevitability climbed over Bigears’s face.
“Pretend you haven’t seen them…….PRETEND YOU HAVEN’T SEEN TH………”
“Hello guys” said Noddy as he jumped up from his deckchair.
“Too late…….you fucking twat” spat Bigears.
“Look Bigears, it’s the Famous Five.”
“Hello chaps” said Julian as he stood with a manly stance on the deck of the boat, “How the devil are you both today?”
“I’m fine Julian” said Noddy, “Bigears is not at his best, he has been up half the night masturbating, I’ve told him he will need glasses in later life, but you know Bigears.”
Anne and George covered their mouths with their hands and giggled, as Bigears looked at Noddy in disbelief.
“I say Bigears, do you prefer Titstation, or Mingehunt” said Dick, “ I am a Mingehunt man myself, I find the ladies on Titstation just a little common.”
Bigears sank even lower into his deckchair, and mumbled something through a cough as Anne and George reddened in the face slightly.

“I say, have either of you chaps heard of any damsels that need rescuing, or of any dastardly plans that need scuppering?” Said Julian.
“Afraid not old bean” said Noddy, “We are just having a quiet days fishing.”
Trying to” said Bigears under his breath as Noddy shot him a look.
“Oh bugger” said Julian, “Oh well, if you hear of anything, text me will you. Incidentally, have I shown you my new Nokia ZS 69X-101 handset?”
“Oh come on Julian” said Anne, “There isn’t anybody you haven’t shown it to.”
The rest of the Famous Five laughed, and playfully punched Julian on the arm.
“Oh well, we must be off. Fair maidens to release from the clutches of evil pirates and such the like. Toodalpip.”

With that, they chugged off down the river, singing “What shall we do with the drunken sailor”.
“Thank fuck they have gone” said Bigears.
“Oh really Bigears, you can be such a dreadful grump sometimes,” said Noddy, “What could you possibly have against the Famous Five?”
“I’ll tell you what shall I…….they are a bunch of jumped up, goody two shoes, middle class, toffee nosed little tossers, that’s what.”

“Oh really Bigears, they do a lot of excellent work. You seem to forget how many times they have been rewarded by being the winners of the ‘National children’s fictional characters award’ “
“Forget, how the hell could I forget? They win it every bloody year. It’s getting ridiculous, as the announcer starts, we all know who the winners are going to be…….The winners of ‘National children’s fictional characters of the year’ goes to…….The Famous fucking five.”
“Bigears you do exaggerate.”
“No, when was the last time you can remember them not winning it. It was the same when the Scooby doo lot kept bagging it a few years back. All cause they had a van, and that twat dog that kept solving mysteries, purely by chance I might add, it’s just not fair.”
“Bigears, I think you’re maybe just a little jealous” said Noddy.
“Not at all, all I am saying is, not only is it not fair that they keep winning it, when there are other just as worthy candidates, but it’s starting to cause trouble. It was kicking off last year, don’t you remember?”
“Not really.”
“Yes you do, When their names were announced again, Small skirmishes started to break out. The Clangers were up in arms. Security had to be called. Of course, none of them could speak the language, so things were getting nasty. Thank God Sooty was there to calm the situation, thankfully he speaks fluent Clanger, and managed to appease them with several bottles of Smirnoff Ice. Something has got to be done about it, that’s all I’m saying.”
Noddy glanced at him and tutted.

“Anyway, I’ll leave it there…….apart from I’m not overly sure they should be giving out awards on such a regular basis to Lesbians.”
“WHAT……. Lesbians, awards, what on earth are you talking about?” exclaimed Noddy.
“George that fat girl with a blokes name from the bloody Famous Five, quite clearly a lesbian.”
“How on earth do you come to that ridiculous conclusion?”
“Oh come on, she’s more butch than Julian and Dick put together.”
Noddy turned to Bigears and sighed. “I agree that she is what you might call, a sturdy girl, but that in no way means she is a lesbian. Anyway, even if she is, we all live in the twenty first century now Bigears, apart from you, and sexual diversity is a thing to be embraced and celebrated, not ridiculed and condemned.”
“Well call me old fashioned…….”
“I do frequently” interrupted Noddy.
“Call me old fashioned, and let me just say I’ve got nothing against lifters and lip lickers, but I think it should be kept in the privacy of their own bedrooms or whatever, not paraded around at awards ceremonies.”
“For God’s sake Bigears, I don’t understand how your mind works sometimes.”
“While we are on the subject…….”
“I wasn’t aware that we were.” retorted Noddy.
“You know who else bats for the wrong side don’t you.”
“No, but I am absolutely positive that I will do within the next ten seconds.”
“Hong Kong Phooey.”
Noddy almost choked on his jam sandwich “Does he, and how pray tell has one come by this staggering piece of information?”
“Do you walk around with your eyes closed Noddy?” said Bigears, “Just his name is gay, I mean Hong Kong Bloody Phooey .”

Noddy was losing the will to live, and shook his head.
“You have got to admit, it’s all a bit suspect isn’t it? The way he runs around in public with just that short little dressing gown on, and that silly little mask.”
“Ooh I meant to talk to you about that,” Noddy interrupted, “You know how he thinks that nobody knows who he is…….”
“Henry, the mild mannered janitor…….”
“Yes, well if you see him, don’t whatever you do let on that we know, that he doesn’t know, that we know who he is!, I was talking to Wilma Flintstone in the laundrette the other day, and apparently he has started to suspect that some people know his identity, apparently he is very sensitive about it.”
“Sensitive, there you go…GAY.”

Noddy slumped down into his deckchair, and went back to staring at his float. “I don’t want to hear another word about award ceremonies, homosexuality, or anything else. Lets just get back to what’s left of our fishing trip.”
Bigears stuck his tongue out at Noddy, and lit another Benson.

After ten minutes or so of a slightly frosty silence, Noddy and Bigears couldn’t help hearing a rustling coming from the bushes some way behind them. This was followed by a woman’s voice.
“Ooh, what are you going to do with that you filthy brute?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know” they heard a man’s voice reply.
Noddy and Bigears looked at each other, and then craned their necks a little closer to the bush.
“Ooooh, I can’t believe you’re going to put it in there,” said the woman.
“I’ll put it where I like, you dirty little minx,” replied the man.
“Ooooh it’s big, I’m not sure I can take such a big one.”
“You’ll take it and like it,” replied the man.
Noddy sprang to his feet knocking over his deckchair. “Quick Bigears, there is a damsel in need of assistance, I’m going to phone the Famous Five.”
Bigears tried to calm Noddy down.

“Don’t just sit there Bigears, do something. Oh damn and blast, I can’t get a bloody signal, bloody T-Mobile…….ps. Sorry Lord for swearing.”
Bigears carried on trying to calm Noddy.
“It’s no good, I can’t get hold of them, we are going to have to save her Bigears.”
Bigears choked on his jam sandwich, and spluttered “Noddy listen…….”
“Cover me Bigears, I am going in”
“NODDY…….shut up and sit down,” shouted Bigears. “Nobody is going in anywhere, because nobody needs saving.”
“But the fair maiden, she…….”
“She is not a fair maiden, nobody is getting hurt, nobody needs rescuing, it’s just a couple of doggers.”
“Doggers, what the hell are doggers?” said Noddy looking very puzzled.
“Oh Jesus Christ” said Bigears, “Sit down, this may come as a bit of a shock to you.
Bigears picked up Noddy’s chair, and plonked him down into it.

“Doggers are people who like to have sexual experiences outdoors, more often than not with complete strangers. This is a well known dogging spot, didn’t you know?”

“Oh yuk…….oh yuk oh yuk oh yuk oh yuk oh yuk. I can’t believe it Bigears. You mean mummies and daddies, who obviously love each other very much, do mummy and daddy bedtime things with other mummies and daddies…….OUTDOORS?”
“Er yes, kind of I suppose” said Bigears as he brushed the hair away from Noddy’s face. “Are you ok?”
“Whatever next? What is the world coming to Bigears? It’s leaving me behind.” Noddy sat staring at his float without blinking.
Bigears got up from his chair.
“Where are you going Bigears?” said Noddy without taking his eyes off of the float.
“I’m er, just er, going to get some more Bensons, see you in about half an hour.”

Noddy sat motionless, staring at the water as the sun started to set over the horizon. What had happened to his world? Why couldn’t things just stay the same? Where had all the innocent adventures gone? Sunny days of just fishing. Driving down leafy lanes, and tooting the horn at Pat the postman. Shouting hello to Windy Miller, and running through honey coloured corn fields. It was all there in his head, but when he opened his eyes, it was different.
“My word Mr Big Ears, look at the size of those!” The lady screamed from the bushes.
Noddy squeezed his eyes shut tight, and turned up his ipod.

About Me

Smileville, Smileshire, United Kingdom
Don't let the bastards grind you down! peace and love x