Matters arising.

Posted on by Alex

I normally do this sort of thing at the weekend… but I’m getting horribly behind with stuff, what with working really hard an’ that to get stuff out of the way before the new Baby arrives and MY LIFE BASICALLY ENDS.

So!

I was featured/interviewed/chatted to on the Angry and Cliff Comedy Podcast the other day. Many of you may already have come across Mr Angry and/or Cliff – it was good of them to give me the time of day and sort of set up jokes for me to answer.

It is a bit odd hearing your own voice on one of these things. Listening back, I was struck by the fact that I sounded so much like the old tapes of my dad reading me Winnie-the-Pooh stories in the 1970’s, without the intellectual content. Anyway, if you are interested, I am over there.

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I’ve decided to turn off comments for all the older posts. This is a bit of a bind, as some of the most interesting/bizarre things that people have to say tend to crop up on old posts, and it is fun when a visitor says something out of the blue. But I’m fed up with all the spam from tossey people trying to get something for nothing. Including you, Honda. Yes you, car manufacturing Honda at Honda dot com.

The irony is that it all goes into the spam filter. But then I wade through them anyway, cos there is occasionally a false positive and I don’t want that genuine non-spammy non-tossey person to feel all forlorn that their comment hasn’t been published.

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Please do continue to leave comments though. I still read them all obsessively, and laugh.

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Thanks for bearing with me. Carry on!

I start my reign as the Fabio Capello of bowls.

Posted on by Alex

The rain pelts down from the gloom-ridden Norfolk skies. I gaze through the window, enthusiastically.

During the winter months, I was chosen by popular vote to be in charge of the bowls this year. I am a sort of Fabio Capello figure, but with bowls. It is half past five – not long to go until we have to leave.

The telephone rings. It is Trevor, wondering, as it is raining so hard, whether the match might be called off to allow us to go to the Village Pub instead.

“Nonsense,” I lie. “It might be raining hard where you live, but I am about 300 yards south and it has almost stopped.”

So far we have played two games. We lost the first one 8-0 and lost the second one 6-2. Boooooo – perhaps I am not the Fabio Capello of bowls after all. I am the Steve McClaren.

The telephone rings again. It is Huey. Huey is having to drop out at the last minute, as he is being sick. He is apologetic, through his sick, but this leaves me in a bit of a hole. I know Eddie is around, as he has been spotted – I will try to get him to fill in at the last minute. Even Steve McClaren had these sorts of problems, with metatarsals etc.

I ring the opposing manager first, to check whether the match might be called off, allowing us to go to the Village Pub instead.

“Actually it is not raining here,” he lies. “In fact there is a bit of blue sky.”

I ring Eddie and ask him to play, shouting to make myself heard over the rain.

“But isn’t the weather…”

“I have just spoken to the opposing manager. It is bright sunshine there, with light temperate breezes,” I lie. Boooooo – not even three games in and I have immediately turned into some ducking and diving Terry Venables bowls figure.

We drive to the game, stopping at Eddie’s cottage on the way, in order to forcibly bundle him into the car. I switch the windscreen wipers on to their maximum setting as we inch forwards through impromptu lakes in the road, the headlights struggling to cut the gloom.

“I think it’s brightening up,” I say. “Look – there are some people in bermuda shorts, and some other people having a barbecue, and an ice-cream van.”

We arrive at the venue and start playing bowls. Our particular block plays so badly that at one point I substitute Nigel (a good, experienced skipper) with me (have never done it before, am rubbish). Booooo – I am turning into the Rafael Benitez of bowls.

We lose 8-0.

“Thank you for playing, everybody,” I tell them afterwards. “I hope you enjoyed the game.”

We drive to the Village Pub.

I receive leaflets in the post!!!

Posted on by Alex

The Postman drops them off, with a raised eyebrow.

I settle down to read. It is a dilemma. In the last election, I advised my readers to vote for UKIP. This was because Robert Kilroy-Silk had just resigned as leader, and it would have been amusing to see the look on his face should everybody have followed my advice, his ex-party consequently winning an outright majority and choosing somebody else as Prime Minister.

On reflection, I decided that this was quite a convoluted and slightly unrealistic way of playing an – admittedly clever – joke on a rude orange-faced man. So I will not do that this year. Citizens have votes. Private Secret Diaries do not. But – with apologies to my overseas fan base and the small number of UK readers not in the North West Norfolk constituency – I have decided to summarise my leaflets, so that you might come to your decision easier.

Conservative – Henry Bellingham (incumbent)

Summary: I have been your M.P. for 23 years. A vote for me is a vote for change.

Labour – Manish Sood

Summary: I will introduce strict boarder controls, presumably to discourage boarders. I love this area and its people; so much so that I will move here if you elect me.

Liberal Democrat – William Summers

Summary: It is the same old names – the professional career typographers that got us into this mess. Let us have a go at the typography. It can’t be as difficult as all that. See?

UKIP – John Gray

Summary: All the other colours were taken. So we got bright purple. Put it up in your window and they will probably see it in Belgium, that non-country.

Telent – on behalf of B.T.

Summary: Your telephone service is at risk. We promise to renew the overhead wires and poles over the next 10 working days to make improvements in the network. This will take between 2 and 6 hours, and cuts to your service are inevitable during this period.

British National Party – David Fleming

Summary: Winston Churchill would have voted for us. We’re a bit broke, so here’s a form to send us a donation. (Black ink not mandatory.)

Green Party – Michael de Whalley

Summary: Nobody reads these things. So I have taken the green option and not sent one.

I will see you in the Village Hall on Thursday.