Saturday 29 May 2010

Flying high - sofa so good

"Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the sky on laughter!" Dead right he has. Wish he'd taken a sofa instead of an armchair because I would have been right there with him. Balloon man Jonathan Trappe, 36, crossed the Channel in chair held up by balloons. Beautiful, brightly coloured ones at that.
He took a load of techie stuff to stay safe and then sat back to watch the view. And listen. Because he could hear the waves from 1.000 feet. How awesome is that? When war pilot John Magee was writing his famous poem High Flight he knew the score. "Done a hundred things you have not dreamed of," he said, and even though he died, aged only 19, he was right.
Balloon man Jonathan said: "It's really only about dreams. Nobody who looks at what we put into it thinks we are crazy." Insane? Absolutely! I'd have been laughing like a lunatic all the way for the stupendous, stonking, fun of it. Still not entirely sure how you get down. Presumably involves a spud gun and a fair-sized tat. Pick them off one at a time until touchdown. It's not rocket science but I've got bagsies on the first settee in space.

Thursday 27 May 2010

Winners Take All

A rare seasonal visitor has been sighted on the school field - the caretaker is out marking white lines. Sports Day is on the way then. To compete or not compete, that is the question.
Some schools have an odd insight into the world of sport. They seem to think it's the taking part that counts. In Brighton we used to watch our kids run around in circles until a teacher told them to stop."Did I win then?" demanded each small hamster in turn as they completed a circuit. God knows. They would still be running yet if I had to decide. They all got stickers saying Well Done. No winners equals no losers. That's Brighton for you.
Now the parents are fighting back. In Tweedale near the Scottish borders local councillors worried that primary schoolchildren could suffer from "low self esteem" if they lost their footie matches. They wanted them banned. Mum Fiona Pagett launched a Facebook page to get the netball and football competitions back. She said: "I couldn't believe their attitude. Competition is a fact of life." The local authority fancied a "trophy-free" policy. Tight waddie-waddies!
So it saves on the council tax - but guess who looks like a prize pillock?

Tuesday 25 May 2010

Andy Paddy

Prince Andrew, or randy Andy as he was known in his hey-day, is not happy with the press. They keep asking him about his ex-wife Sarah and her wizard scheme to make half a million bucks out of him. Crikey, how desperate would you have to be to pay that kind of cash?
Trade ambassador Andy has earned millions for this country and his wife has spent about the same. Works in this house. Sarah was always keen to make a bob or two. But couldn't she just go for having her toes sucked instead of shoving her size sevens right into it?
Surely even she can see that nobody would happily pay £500,000 to chat to jowly Andy?
Didn't she smell something a bit dodgy somewhere? Seems not. Today Andy is visiting a Cambridge College and refusing to pose for pictures. The photographers will be devastated. They'll get over it and so will he.
Poor old Sarah is looking more and more like her old dad Ron Ferguson who also dropped the odd clanger or two. She's getting a bit porky for Weight Watchers. Maybe she'll have to resort to writing dreadful kids' books about helicopters. It's a hard life.

Sunday 23 May 2010

Millibands divide and rule

Bless them, it couldn't last. All that talk of brotherly love. Something had to go ping. Not Dave and Nicky, the happy honeymooners. We're talking serious split here, tears at bedtime and in between too.
It's about David and Ed. Miliband. Doomed they were, right from the moment Gordon stuffed his sporran into a suitcase and shuffled off to lick his wounds. The slanging match is on. Ed reckons David is an android, with no people skills. David says he is the best man by far, with way more experience. Question is, why would either of them want it? The Leader of the Labour Party job?
Nobody gives a cat's cuss about Labour. We're all agog to see what Nicky and Dave are up to behind closed doors. The Miliband bros can kit themselves out like Lady GaGa and sing a duet on top of Nelson's column with a dead pidgeon around their necks and we will not pay them a blind bit of notice. We just don't care.
But can't blame them for trying. More than you can say for Diane Abbott. She's been in that place so long with so little result that we've all forgotten she is still alive. And guess what? I'll eat that sporran if she wins.

Thursday 20 May 2010

Raffles eat your heart out

So, some Hoodie’s had it away with £400m worth of paintings. Not a bad haul for the price of a jemmy and a pair of padlock cutters. Seems our lad smashed a window and nipped smartly in and out with five masterpieces stashed in a swag bag. Not an eye batted. Bet he can’t believe his luck.
The Museum of Modern Art in Paris is now missing a Picasso and a Matisse, among others. Experts say the chances of them turning up are “remote” Wouldn’t bet on it. Unless our thief has a penchant for posh pictures he is going to want a few readies for his trouble. He could ask a ransom, hope the insurance comes good, then dump the booty, grinning all the way to the bank. It’s been done before.
Can’t knock the art – they are fabulous, but do you ever wonder how it is that five paintings can really be worth £400m? And what must the premiums cost, if they are insured at all? At the moment they are probably rolled up in someone’s shed. Just like they started out.

Monday 17 May 2010

latest accessory for fashion week

Well that's it. Left on the platform as the last train pulls out. Clueless. It seems the must-have accessory is not a mui mui bag costing the same as a small car but something I already have in spades and I didn't see it.
I'm not one to lead the way, style wise. Not exactly cutting edge. Gok Wan won't fret that I fancy his job.
Yet, here, right next to me, is the latest trick. All four feet, smelly breath and very shaggy hide.
A dog. Bang on trend. Paris Fashion Week delights in sweet-smelling pooches snacking on thinly slices chicken during cocktail hour at the Hotel Costes. They are everywhere, tucked into the fragrant armpits of the rich and frivolous.
Nothing fragrant about this lad. He lies like a log for the unsuspecting to fall over and is always on the wrong side of a door. Tuck him under your arm and a look of faint surprise will come over his features as you haul yourself off to casualty with a hernia the size of a bowling ball. And he sheds. Enough to stuff a king-size mattress and still have some to spare for a duvet.
Suppose they are all the same under the skin. lets hope the fashionistas have the poop bags handy. Could take the shine off that fabulous new handbag.

Thursday 13 May 2010

New contraceptive for the boys

Run boys run! Here's a story to scare the bejasus out of you. Scientists have found a new contraceptive - the microwave! Blast a man's bits for a few seconds and he can't produce the goods for six months. DO NOT try this at home! As if you would.
It works on rats. The good news is it seems to be entirely reversible, just pop along every few months, warm the balls up in something like a mini-hot tub and Bob's your uncle though not your dad.
Have they thought this thing through? It might work for the boffins of the University of North Carolina but is your average bloke up for it? They say the new sperm are unaffected at the end of treatment - but are they, really? Do you want some par-boiled wriggly things messing with your eggs of a morning? Sounds like sci-fi to me.
Do the boy bits glow in the dark - we should be told. Could add a whole new meaning to "Do you want the light on or off?" How many women would believe a man who said: "I've had 30 seconds on full-power!" I might just be be looking at a take-away, they'll think.
He'd have to wear a special bracelet. Just so you know. Then it's either,"Brilliant, let's go for it!" or "You know what? I"d rather have a Mars bar"

Wednesday 12 May 2010

Nicky and Dave a love match

So, Dave and Nicky are jumping into bed together - fantastic, and there's even a baby on the way. Couldn't understand the doom merchants who said they would never get on, just look at them, they could be cousins.
That's a very posh removal van outside number ten. Never seen a cleaner, shiner, newer one in my life. Must be the Tory one.
Had me wondering when Broon headed aff te the Heilands and David and Samantha took up shop at 9pm. Did anyone change that mattress? Obviously, no time to get the bed out, but would you want to sleep on the same mattress as Gordon? Barely had a chance to get cold. Maybe at the holiday let up in Southwold, but honestly, really rather not. Sure they changed the sheets, but still.... something a tiny bit skanky there.
The first photo they showed of David doing the hand-kissing thing with the Queen had her looking a bit gob-smacked. Bit of loose jaw drop, old lady caught on her blind side sort of look. Was it something he said? Swapped it very soon after for a nice, smiley one. That's the ticket. Whatever is going on behind closed doors let's all smile and wave boys, smile and wave...

Friday 7 May 2010

Jilted Gordon still waits for love...

There's lovelorn Gordon, a vision in white, resplendent in veil and tiara, weeping bitter tears and crying down the aisle "It shoulda been me!" What a ghastly thought. Jilted he has been but like poor old Miss Haversham he hangs on, waiting for old love to claim him.
Except we won't, because we didn't choose him, Tony did, and his passion is spent. He popped by briefly, just for old time's sake, but you could see his heart wasn't in it, the romance was obviously dead. Will gorgeous Nick come to his rescue? Er, No. Just don't fancy you Gordon mate, sorry. They never looked like natural bed-fellows did they?
Beginning to see what Labour have been up against all this time. We all said ages ago: " Dump the loser!" but they never seemed to listen. Now we can understand what they were up against. The limpet-like qualities of Mr Brown can not be underestimated. He sticks closer than paint on a wall. There's just no budging him.
He still thinks he is the right man for the job."I'll work with the others when they call me," he says. Don't sit too long by the phone Gordon, it's just too, too heartbreaking.

Winalot - no they didn't

What a dog"s breakfast! Should have just handed it all over to Winalot and been done with it. The election that is.
Except nobody won a lot did they? There lies the rub. Fact is, my dog enjoys his breakfast. It's all over in 30 seconds flat. Which is about the likely length of this Parliament.
We're looking at doing the whole thing again. Can you be bothered? I mean, it was a lot of fun. Nice to see them all sweating in the spotlight and it's always a joy to see a politician squirm - thanks Gillian.
Yet what about Wonder boy Nick Clegg? He actually lost seats. Do you smell a rat here? I do and it's not Nick. He was a whiff of fresh air through the whole smelly business.
How come someone so clearly popular with the people did so badly? It's our skewed voting system again. Gordon reckoned he could get fewer votes than anyone and still win. He wasn't far wrong was he? Let's count the vote again and see where the crosses really went. Because sure as eggs is eggs the votes on the papers don't add up to the people in power. Again.

Wednesday 5 May 2010

Flying High - a risky business

So our smokey joe in Iceland is kicking off again. Only a matter of time before we all say sod it and go anyway. Something, somewhere, is going to drop out of the sky.
Been reading about a guy called Chuck Yeager who broke the sound barrier on October 14 1947.Everyone reckoned it couldn't be done without breaking up the plane, but Yeager did it with two broken ribs after a run-in with a horse. He had to shut the X-1 Plane door with a broom handle because he could barely move his arm. Heading for Mach 1 Yeager reported:" had a mild buffet there.. jes the usual instability" in his slow American drawl, copied by cool pilots everywhere.
A few years later he is flight testing a plane and is 20 miles up, where weightlessness kicks in. On the way back things go badly wrong and he comes hurtling down tail first at 150 feet a second. He ejects at 7,000 feet and the red-hot rocket part of the seat smashes into his head, almost taking his eye out and setting fire to pure oxygen flooding his helmet. It's full of smoke, his face is on fire and he can't breathe. He sticks hand in the hole in the helmet to try to force some fresh air in and his finger fries.The only thing that saves his eye is the burned-on blood. He has third degree burns, spends a month in hospital and walks away. He even gets back the use of his finger. That's showing them! Risk? What risk?