Laid up

It appears I have succumbed to the condition known as "Skyatica".

For the past few weeks I have been unable to move from my chair or sofa without experiencing a great deal of pain, bordering on a feeling of loss. Other symptoms include a pain behind the eyes, a numbing of my critical faculties, and a certain amount of rigor mortis in the hand, making it difficult to, for example, let go of the remote.

I have been in touch with a specialist who has advised me to take gentle exercise and consider changing my lifestyle.

Apparently it happens to a lot of people who buy a new telly and get access to ALL sorts of channels on a 24/7 availability.

As soon as the repeat of last week's run of Maori is complete - it does, after all, work on many different levels and bears viewing time and again for every nuance - I will give good thought to getting off my sickbed and phoning in sick.

Which would be convenient as there's a Start Rek marathon starting.

Forthcoming Event

Yes, I will be inviting you all to blow on my candle on Tuesday 4th March when I hit the fine old age of 40!

Throughout history this has traditionally been known as the happiest day of the year with such joyful news headlines on this date in the past as:

Kray Twins Guilty of McVicar Murder

Mugabe To Lead Independent Zimbabwe

200th episode of "All in the Family"

Arthur Babbitt Dead

US Pioneer IV misses moon

Jimmy Hoffa convicted of jury tampering

Noordwijk soccer team forms

Brazil Senate allows women to wear slacks

17th anniversary of formation of Noordwijk soccer team

Little wonder then that 4th March is known has been designated UN World Joyful Happiness Forget The Bad Stuff Day!

But I did want to get it flagged up a few days in advance as I know that in the past many people have found it comes upon them unawares and they have not prepared or GOT MY PRESENT.

I hope this 'aide-de-memory' will aid de memoires of those who muffed up royally last time and completely forgot this stupendous event. I look foward to it with immense anticipation that you lot will get it right for once.

For those unsure of my birthday wishes, can I suggest something like this:

Don't let me down.

St. Valentine's Day Masssacree

A number of laydeez have been in touch in a state of mystification to ask why I, Derrig, have not blogged on their St.Valentine's Day missives to myself, i.e. I, Derrig (again).

Well, of course as any damn fule kno, the traditional epistle, card or whatnot is sent in a cognito, similar to the Lone Ranger and unbeknownst to its arriver-at-intended-for one person of the sender of thereof.

Of course, it didn't help me being out of the country on the day in question on a colleen-hunt in EireLand. However, on arrival back at Derrig Towers, it was hugely gratifying to discover I was required to hire a digger to make my way through the drifts of correspondence that blocked my front passage.

Since that time I have had a cracked team of graphologists and a handwriting expert on the case to decipher the childish scrawls most of my admirers appear to use to disguise their identities. I can now release the results and my responses to the various offers on offer that were offered to me.

Twin of Evil 1 - This is ridiculous! I don't even have a lollipop.

Twin of Evil A - Sorry, I am allergic to rhubarb.

Jools - Now, now, you know my golden rule.

Tallulah - I don't know where you left it either. Try the drawer under the sink.

Red Snapper - I pose for no-one, especially in soggy knitted underwear.

Lady JoJoJo - I think you'll find St.Valentine's Day is a fixed date and cannot be shifted to accommodate your whims alone.

"Mr.Benjamin Thomas" - I don't know what the phrase "get your round in" means, but it sounds unspeakably vile to me.

BossLady - Yes, of course, Ma'am. Whatsoever your whim doth requireth.

If your name does not appear on the above list, fear not! You are among the lucky 107 to whom I have responded of what already with a leaflet detailing the advantages and price list for my "I, Derrig Heavenly-Ecstasy Body Rub And Parts-Handling" service*. Extras available. No reasonable request refused.

I now await the 29th February with some trepidation as it is the day on which anyone, regardless of genderification, can ask you up the aisle. To coin a phrase, never will so many have so much turned down by yours truly.

*Subject to withdrawal without notice at any time.

Separated at birth: All-Time Winner

And now it's the one you've all been waiting for. It's got sound, so turn your volume up.

(Although as it's hosted on YouTube, you will probably have to check it out at home. That's except for the hideously over-privileged 'creatives', of course.)

Separated at birth XIII - Competition II result

Someone thinks this is very funny.

And everyone got it right.

Except for 'Anonymous' who -on the basis of their entry -seems to have a career-suicide wish.

But then thinking about who sent it in ("Anonymous" - hah! - don't forget my comment-submission monitoring system) there's not an awful lot of career-suicide for them to commit!

Separated at birth XIII - Competition II

So, just who DO this handsome pair remind you of?


Your answers to the usual address please or in the readers comments box. Answer tomorrow.

Separated at birth XII

Why this one has never occurred to me before I just don't know.

Right Charlie............Proper Charlie

Separated at birth XI: And this is me

Hunk.....................Chunk

Separated at birth X

And there's a prize* for guessing who President JoJo of WheeLand thinks this is supposed to look-a-bloomin'-likee!

*Warning: Prize consists of night out with President JoJo. No cash alternative offered. Value of prize approx 0.0001p

Separated at birth IX

A little practical test for those with minds in need of exercise.

Take a good look at this picture. Stare hard at it for one minute before scrolling down.


Concentrate with all your powers.

Imagine this smooth pair becoming same-sex parents.

Provocative isn't it?

But imagine how scary the progeny of this crazed experiment would be!!!

Separated at birth VIII

Another amazing look-ee-likee!

Mutt...............................Faithfull

Separated at birth VII

This one came in from the Lady Jo of Whelan of Whelan, but any resemblance escapes me. I strongly suggest that in future you take more water with it, Lady!

Being John Malkovich?...........Not being Sammy Spiv-O-La

Separated at birth VI (and 2000-up!)

Mouse...............................Man

We've all seen this one before, of course, just another cheap shot at a timid and helpless wild animal.

But enough of Braisers, I want to congratulate our friend the dormouse for being the 2000th visitor to my magnificent blog (check the counter, miserable doubtees).

STOP PRESS

Correction! It was Anthony Worrall-Braisers after all who was my 2000th guest! (Of course, him visiting 16 times a day increased the possibility of this happening, but good on him for upping me stats.)

Separated at birth V

Keep 'em coming folks!

Popeye.........................Sailor man

Separated at birth IV

Some of these are just sooooo obvious.

Shobna Gulati/Sunita Alahan..........................Jools Hallam

Separated at birth III

And still they keep coming in!

Gillian Anderson...............Boss Woman

Separated at birth II

And more...

Nana Mouskouri........................Tallulah McGuinness

Now there's a valentine if ever I saw one.

And she sure can sing a cracking song or two about Greek goatherders.

Separated at birth?

I'm starting a competition for look-ee-likees. The only criterion is that they must be someone who frequents Club Derrig or its environs who look-ee-likes someone famous. Rush your snaps to me now!

Your starter for eleven:


Looks like....

...it's coming...

Who else have you got pictures of, readers?

(Of course, I'll try to find a look-ee-likee picture for Graham's chum as well when I get the chance.)

Grim and ghastly fanciness

WARNING: Not to be viewed after eating.

A lot of people have asked me what 'Mr' Ben Thomas gets up to when he is not swabbing down the bar counter at Club Derrig, or booting out freeloaders, ne'er-do-wells, and nincompoops.

(And for those who wonder about the continuing use of the Club Derrig name, well no, I'm not going to dignify that evil woman's claim on the premises by changing it's name.)

I am now able to answer the previously-unsolvable 'Benjamin' question through the medium of media.

Photgraphic evidence has been provided to me of his notorious noxious nocturnal doings.

It seems he spends his time at a local branch of Drongoes Anonymous, a support group for those who cannot enjoy themselves unless posing for photographs. To preserve their anonymity - for they publish these disgusting images on the Wide World Wonder Web - they don outlandish garb and disguises.

Here's an example I found on the "Lick my decals off baby" website:

'Mr'.Benjamin Thomas can be seen lurking discomfitingly in the background behind a bounteous bevy of womanly pulchitrude. (Although God knows what they look like in daylight and without the slap.)

Through the modern miracle of photography and computerised technical wizardliness, I have been able to blow-up, rotate, and otherwise enhance the lurker in the shadows and come up with this mind-blowingly sickening picture of this gruesome Chaplin-impersonator. Just don't invite him home of an evening.

Well, my mother likes it anyway

In my life, why do I give valuable time to...

...pisspoor tribute bands?

Yes, I have spent my cash money and time on yet another hopeless bunch of musickos desperately grasping after a shot at fame on the backs of others' talents.

Led by a fey mitherer 'The Mozter' and with jingle-jangly guitar rhythms a-plenty and the somewhat-less-than-danceable beat held back by a pair of Mancy chumps - one of them a user of narcotics, I believe - I am surprised anyone can bear to listen to them.

Thankfully they split up a while back and good riddance. It's high time we got some proper pop'n'roll back for the youth of our country. I blame James Brown. Did you know r'n'b goes back absolutely years, not like this modern bastardisation.

Good night.

(Posted by the Genius Amanuensis Williams to cover for Lord Almighty Derrig while he is temporarily indisposed. This post awaiting his Lardship's approval.)

Irritating bloody idlers

Take a look at this.

The Cult of Bob.

Have people really nothing better to do with their time?

Derrig Goes Green

I have been becoming greener by the minute in my ways of behaving and of thinking of late.

I put this down to an extremely informative, provocative and butt-numbingly dull experience I had with a group of young people up North in the region of "Leeds" and thereabouts.

You can see above the amazing poster one of them knocked up in what seemed only seconds with a simple sheet of paper and a packet of environmentally-friendly crayons. This is what it's all about.

It seems the small and spinning globe of what upon we live together is in great danger of slowing down and stopping entirely in a metaphorical way of speaking.

Yes - it's getting hotter. Or wetter, depending on where you live. Or both even.

Speaker after speaker at the "Leeds" brain-whack seminar spoke about how the polar bears were suffering for not being able to get reasonably-priced tickets on gaseously-polluting planes away from their habitat up in South Pole where it can be a tad on the bitter side come winter.

The concomitant effect is that their collective howl of outrage is creating nothing short of a mighty tsunami of a wind which is threatening to spin our wind farms so fast that electricity will come shooting out of sockets at random, and end up spilling into carpets, leading to an economically-disastrous static electricity surplus. Jon "Science Officer Spock" Richards was right all along.

Don't believe me? Take a look at the hair on Mad Dicky Evans - you'll see what I mean.

But there is hope. Even now it is not too late to despatch a team of sharp-shooters to take out the beautiful, noble, and comparatively slow-moving polar bears. Just one shot, side of the head, hold steady, steady, BANG! Cripes! Run! RUN!

Yes, mark my words, the green revolution is here.

(N.B. As part of my ongoing greenery I will be recycling old posts and/or their jokes for the foreseeable future.)