Hell-o-oh!

"Ms" Singleton: A Warning

2012-01-13T02:29:00.003Z

Following up on 'that picture' what appeared at the arse-end of my seasonal message (and for which I myself even was unprepared and stitched-up on the cutting room floor) I have a few remarks to make at her.

Firstly, it ill-behoofs you - "Ms" Singleton - to be bandying about gorgeous pix of yours truly as it only serves to provoke inflammation amongst the distaff lot of my regular readers. Bit of a blow-back up there, I think.

Secondly, you are not the only one with a set of incriminating snaps taken at the height of passion and which never exepected to see the light of day in our own lifetimes but may well have turned up in some learned tome on the cultural and sexual mores of the 1980s.

Thirdly, I have a highly-popular and well-respected cybernetic outlet for my revenge which clearly you don't as a search of the WHOLE OF THE WIDE INTERWORLD WEB reveals only that you have once been on MyFace.

Time for you to hand over the negs, I think, and be done or I'll be publishing more like this:

Even Better Than The Real Thing

2012-01-11T03:31:00.000Z

I used to be a right old "The Smiths" fanny until I stumbled over this tribute act which makes that Mozzarissey and Marr combo look like a bunch of dinosaurs out of the ark, musically and lyric-wise.

Some Happy New Year It's Turned Out To Be

2012-01-09T00:10:00.002Z

Appropriate album cover.

I have only sufficiently recovered in the past few days to report on my New Year festivities up North that were progressing reasonably well until I was savaged in my own hand by some cat-thing that my hosts were keeping a secret from me until it launched its vicious attack.

That cat-bastard known as 'Fang'.

Now, I'm well known as a lover of cooked animals so what the heck was a-going on with that terrifying ball of fluff and needles I can't say.

Still, my hand has - finally and after much self-medicating with the Godsend that is Bailey's - finally returned to normalcy.

That's the only time I'll ever venture out on a New Year's Eve without chain-mail.

Alternative Queen's Seasonal Message - Complaints Bureau

2012-01-01T00:01:00.000Z

I have been on the receiving end of two numerous complaints about the fact that my seasonal message contained no hippo (as was promised by Still 3 of the promotional advertising).

I urge you to watch the film again now and check closely for yourself, as you may have missed it first time round for all the laughter you were up to.

Alternative Queen's Seasonal Message

2011-12-25T00:01:00.000Z

At last - it's what you've all been waiting for!

Alternative Queen's Seasonal Message - Still 3

2011-12-23T12:30:00.002Z

Alternative Queen's Seasonal Message - Still 2

2011-12-23T11:30:00.000Z

Alternative Queen's Seasonal Message - Still 1

2011-12-23T10:30:00.000Z

Seasonal message: a special announcement

2011-12-23T08:41:00.006Z

Festive Holly

Dear reader, as you will already know it is a custom going back to the dark ages of blogging that I do hereunto produce a well-regarded and highly-respected message for my adoring fan and you about the yuletide what is about to wash us all over.

It will come as no surprise therefore that this year I have listened to you lot and regretfully have to inform you that having giving careful thought to all your many requests and demands to do otherwise, I am pressing ahead as usual.

For what is a man? What has he got? If not himself, then he has naught.

But to encourage you to partake in the visual feast heading your way my-blog-wise on the great day of itself 25 December, Christmas (and give you a reason to escape the unwanted, nay, chilling embrace of your family and 'loved ones' for a brief moment of respite from all that creepy "jollity" gruesomeness and settle down in front of your PC - or for those with creative pretensions "Mack" - with a nice drop of the cockle-warming hard stuff [but not on a works computer, Beattie] before visiting me here at the blog) I will be publishing a few exclusive stills from my seasonal film over the next few hours.

So, do remember to tune in on Christmas Day for my alternative Queen's Speech.

Beattie mouths off, encore

2011-12-22T03:27:00.001Z

Following his moment d'success wowing a yankee audience with his articulations it seems that Beattie has been freelancing it as a public speaker, regaling anyone who cares to stop and listen to his Fidel-length perorations.

Of course, he picked up all he needed to know from the master of oratory myself.

Here he is, up Kent, a-nattering and a-chattering in the local lingo about whatever comes to mind in a random tumble of subjects and modes of expression, yet still holding them spellbounded.

Fortunately for all, this particular talkathon was recorded for posterity by that fine organ The Kent Infector, so let us relive Beattie's grand words again.

(Coughs.) My fellow Kentuckians, It gives me great pleasure, and always has done.

So I want you to know how much of a privilege it is for you to be standing around listening to me at this momentous time.

I came in a big metal tube on wheels from across the river to view your big concrete teepees and drink your beer, which - frankly - is pish.

But you didn't beg me to come here as a last-minute replacement for the two other people who couldn't be arsed to come but you'd have preferred. I am told.

So let's get down to business and the what I am here about.

Χασμουρητό είναι ένα από τα πιο κάτω-εκτίμησα συμπεριφορές. Είναι μια στερεότυπη και συχνά επαναλαμβανόμενα πράξη κινητήρα, που χαρακτηρίζεται από ανοιχτό το στόμα συνοδεύεται από μια μεγάλη έμπνευση, μια σύντομη ακμή που ακολουθείται από μια σύντομη λήξη. Το σθένος της πράξης μπορεί να αυξήσει τη διέγερση.

Αν και κοινωνικά προσβλητικό για πολλούς, χασμουρητά φέρνουν συχνά την ευχαρίστηση να το χασμώμενος. Ενώ επηρεάζεται από διάφορους νευροδιαβιβαστές, χασμουρητό επηρεάζεται έντονα από την ντοπαμίνη.

Η ντοπαμίνη ενεργοποιεί την παραγωγή οξυτοκίνης στον paraventricular πυρήνα του υποθαλάμου, η οξυτοκίνη μπορεί να ενεργοποιήσει τότε χολινεργική νευροδιαβίβαση στον ιππόκαμπο και το δικτυωτό σχηματισμό του εγκεφαλικού στελέχους. Acethylcholine προκαλεί χασμουρητό μέσω του μουσκαρινικούς υποδοχείς της επενεργητές. Άλλοι νευροδιαβιβαστές μπορούν να διαμορφώσουν την εμφάνισή του, όπως η σεροτονίνη, νευροπεπτιδίων, υποκρετίνης και σεξουαλικών ορμονών.

Η μείωση των χασμουρητό στους ηλικιωμένους προτείνει μια σχετική μείωση της ντοπαμινεργικής δραστηριότητας. Χασμουρητό και τέντωμα έχουν σχέση φυλογενετικής παλιές ρίζες. Ηθολόγοι συμφωνούν ότι τα περισσότερα σπονδυλωτά χασμουρητό. Χασμουρητό είναι μορφολογικά παρόμοια στα πτηνά ερπετά,, τα θηλαστικά και τα ψάρια. Μπορούν να είναι προγονική απομεινάρια επιβιώνουν σε όλη εξέλιξη με μικρή διακύμανση.

Στο ανθρώπινο έμβρυο, χασμουρητό συμβαίνει ήδη από το 12 εβδομάδες μετά τη σύλληψη και παραμένει σχετικά αμετάβλητη καθ 'όλη τη ζωή. Σε όλη την διάρκεια ζωής, ύπνο, υποβάλλεται σε αρκετά σχετίζονται με την ηλικία αλλαγές. Διατριβές αλλαγές αφορούν τη διάρκεια του ύπνου και το ποσό των REM και NREM ύπνου.

Μπορούμε να περιγράψει, κατά τη διάρκεια του ύπνου REM, μία καμπυλόγραμμη πορεία με μια απότομη πλαγιά κατεβαίνει στο τελευταίο χρόνο της ζωής έμβρυο και το πρώτο έτος της ζωής, ένα επίπεδο οροπέδιο σε όλη την παιδική ηλικία και την ενήλικη ζωή, σιγά-σιγά τη μείωση μέχρι την ηλικία. Μια παράλληλη καμπύλη δείχνει την ομοιότητα της εξέλιξης της συχνότητας χασμουρητό και την ποσότητα του ύπνου REM.

Έτσι, από ontogeny, φυλογένεση και αυτή η προσέγγιση μοντελοποίησης αναδύεται μια βασική σύνδεση μεταξύ χασμουρητό και τον ύπνο REM. Χασμουρητό είναι τροποποιήσεις σε ορισμένες παθολογικές καταστάσεις που σχετίζονται με τη γήρανση.

Thank you, and please make donations in the hat being passed around.

Found dignity at the disco

2011-12-20T03:36:00.000Z

(Apologies for the dreadfully poor quality of this. Neither has been to proper dancing lessons.)

Lost dignity at the disco

2011-12-19T02:14:00.002Z

On the day after the disco my true love left for me:

Twelve laydeez handbags,
Eleven lighters (broken),
Ten Benson and Hedges,
Nine spare Christmas cards,
Eight mobile phones
Seven undrunken Advocaats,
Six stale mince pies
Five pairs of shoes
Four cheap old scarves
Three tasteless bracelets
Two old pairs of tights
And a skirt which can all be claimed from se-cur-i-teeeee.

Secret satan - another big let-down

2011-12-16T01:55:00.006Z

I didn't think things could sink any lower than the rag-bag of gifts touted round in the All-New Club DerrigTM secretive Satan team-dismantling exercise that we endured last year.

How wrong I was, with only the Genius Amanuensis getting something he wanted this year, and the rest of us putting up with the bleak gleanings of yuletide market-stall knock-off bargains and mystery objets d'mart.

Perhaps the real low-lights though were the upper-lip-hair-enhancing kit won by Shazza:

And the gift to end all gifts, an unfinished sock, won by someone who used to work in Team Derrig, whose name escapes me, but whose foot is unmistakeable, having had it on my neck a fair few times:
Here's hoping that next year sees a massive upshifting quality-wise, and that a second sock at least is forthcoming.

Auf wiedersehen, darlink

2011-12-15T04:26:00.000Z

Farewell, Brunhilde, one of the foxiest of all the Laydeez up the All-New Club DerrigTM. (I'm sorry I could only find a picture from the 1970's.)

Big job

2011-12-14T01:58:00.002Z

Tonight I have a very special set of duties protecting one of the most influential and giant figures of our era.

It'll be a case of:

SYNCHRONISE WATCHES!

CHECK HEAD-SET RECEPTION AND SEND!

SUNGLASSES ON!

ALERT STATUS SET TO 'MASSIVELY SO'!

LOCATE AND SECURE ALL MEANS OF ACCESS AND EGRESS!

STAND BEHIND THE GREAT MAN LOOKING DAMNED SERIOUS!

I have to say I didn't realise quite how much care had to be taken with such personages, especially out in the public arena of the likes of the All-New Club DerrigTM.

But, the riskiness to one of 'The Big Names' of all-time has to be assessed and dealt with.

After all, what a blow it would be if Mr.Jackson's many fans and admirers were we no longer able to enjoy again his delivery of such inspiring words as:

Or even

Don't worry, Joe, I've 'got your back up' as they say in the service.

Full of yuletide joy

2011-12-13T01:05:00.000Z

Yes, 'tis the season of stuff is upon us all.

Let's kick off the start of the beginning of the celebrations with the song I've requested at the Derrig Towers 'Chill-Out Xmas Disco'.

Preparez vos mouchoirs, it'll bring a tear to your eye.

Two birds, one stone

2011-12-12T02:52:00.001Z

So you come up with a better headline, then.

Miracle hair restorer formula part 2

2011-12-09T03:59:00.004Z

I recommend to you lot EmbonpointeTM the luscious locks liquid for lush laydeez and laydee lushez.

Two out of three women pictured expressed to me their deeply-hirsute satisfaction, while the third said she was looking forward to enjoying an impressive length over the Xmas period.

Miracle hair restorer formula

2011-12-08T03:43:00.001Z

Simply apply one bottle of Havana Club rum internally.

Who will rid me of this turbulent priestess?

2011-12-07T03:27:00.002Z

Madame Fiendish and her devil eyes

You know me, I expect.

I'm no stranger to hard work.

I've often stopped to admire it.

I've even shouted words of encouragement.

But just lately something mighty weird has been going on.

You, my loyal readership, will know that the BossLady-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed-For-Fear-Of-Wrathful-Retribution-And-Pins-Stuffed-Up-Dolls-Type-Performance-Enhancing-Voodoo-ChicaneryTM had moved on to higher things amidst much cheering in the environs de moi truly.

And yet....

And yet it seems since that splendid day of great joy and singing in the streets, I have been on the recieving end of her instructions and demands on a more or less hourly basis.

What eerie powers does she possess that she can jerk me around hither and thither without so much as a by-your-leave? Is it the strange wine-coloured waters she force-drinks me? Or perhaps it is the Dark Arts she picked up on her mysterious 'yogic retreat' at the exclusive Star-Jumps Al Fresco resort?

Someone even suggested I put a bounty on her head, but she'd only eat it.

I can only hope this torment ends soon.

Indeed, maybe it would be better all round if she just simply came back to a proper job and lorded it over us poor minions as she used to.

Big Chief I-Spy Competition

2011-12-06T05:39:00.000Z

As we approach what is ambivalently known as 'festival season' I have decided to entertain all of you lot with a competition of my devising.

This competition will test to the limit your meagre powers of close observation.

It will rely on your ability to identify something not quite right.

You will need to be able to spot something that is a little 'out-of-place'.

So, as you can imagine, I am not expecting much in the way of winners.

But, onwards, to the competition itself, which revolves around the All-New Club DerrigTM and the concealment of certain items about the premises.

All you have to do is spot the item and email me at the usual address with details of your "spot.

Here's a particularly difficult one that'll give you an idea of what I'm on about. It's a tough one, but keep looking.

No? Didn't see it?

Here, have another go.

Still no?

Last chance.

Finally!

Well done to all those who correctly spotted the fire alarm button cunningly concealed behind the potted plant.

Xmas: don't go overboard, will you?

2011-12-05T02:50:00.003Z

That takes the biscuit

2011-12-02T02:23:00.000Z

The mighty Brentford in action

Brentford Football Club are a professional English football club based in Brentford in the London Borough of Hounslow. They are currently playing in Football League One.

They were founded in 1889 and play their home games at Griffin Park, their home stadium since 1904. The club has a long-standing rivalry with near neighbours, Fulham. Brentford's most successful spell came during the 1930s, when they achieved consecutive top six finishes in the First Division.

Got that? The FIRST DIVISION!

Now, I know that not every quizmaster can be as thorough in their research as myself, the leopard-cheetah imbroglio (of which the case against the South African Tourist Board remains outstanding) notwithstanding, (and which a temporary lack of funds prevents me pursuing with all the vigour I can get up in the morning).

It is only the fact of my single-handedly winning the quiz in question and being rewarded with a pallet of quality biscuits - which I will of course be dividing up amongst my gaggle of cheerleaders on the evening - that has prevented me from making any more fuss about it than this entry up my blog and a stiff letter of reprimand which is in the post as I speak.

I must say that I was most moved, though, by the sight of Beattie leaping to his feet several times across the course of the evening to remonstrate with the quizmaster in a most ferocious fashion about this schoolboy error, Commader Jaaaahhhhnnn having to physically restrain him for the safety of us all.

It was quite something to see him getting all lathered up in such a passionate demonstration of fealty unto me. Virually a poster-boy for a public school education where clothing was optional.

I remained aloof, dignified and keeping my counsel, pleased that there was no need to be a-barking myself.

I'd also like to thank the laydeez for turning up and playing such a positive role, fetching of beers and so on. I don't think I could have done it without you, and I do here for the record and the avoidance of doubting salute your carrying prowess.

A short word about yesterday...

2011-12-01T06:53:00.000Z

My Day Of Action - Update

2011-11-30T14:08:00.000Z

Now, that's what I call "action".

There were 12 of these little beauties when I got started. I'm saving the rest for tea.

I'm going all out

2011-11-30T01:53:00.001Z

Have you got yourself an occupation?

2011-11-29T02:17:00.000Z

Not wishing to 'diss'-up the types hanging around about the world in their Occupie shenanigannery, but it does seem all one has to do is plonk one's nether regions on a bit of pavement et viola you're part of it yourself!

Hence my staging of my own personal Moment Of Action in the run-up to tomorrow's 'Big Day'.

Of course, one would look an utter and singular fool trying to stage such a protest on one's own. Therefore I invited Tallulah to join me, and gawdblesser, she was only too glad of the chance to take the weight off her plates.

And a right pair we did make.

Tomorrow: I'm all up and proud for action.

On the box

2011-11-28T02:13:00.000Z

Yes, it's me - on the telly again.

And this time it's not Smartarses!

Here I am waiting for my chance to address a press conference of top-notch journos about my forthcoming Derrig Day of Action, which is happening sometime this week.

I do hope you'll join me somewhere.

Synchronise watches!

Bookends

2011-11-25T01:02:00.002Z

A First Class pair of sleeping beauteez, if I say so unto myself, snapped as they napped it up amongst the debris of their massive assortment of snacks.

I think they had quite exhausted themselves moaning on about missing out on the second complimentary cuppa.

So engrossed were in their napping-time, they didn't see me helping myself to generous handfuls of their snacks.

Another case of cloudy silver linings!

Recipe corner

2011-11-24T04:38:00.002Z

Take a large pinch of Joan of The Ark (the finest female Pope of her own generation).

Add a clump of that'um King Dick 3.

Rub together in a big pudding bowl.

Rub, rub, rub.

Add a little spice - your choice but it has to be something a tad tart.

Leave under a damp towel for an hour in a warm place and....

Taa-Daaa!!!!!
Instant Twin of Evil A or, as it's known up North: Parkin Warlock.

TOMORROW: KNIT YOUR OWN TWIN OF EVIL 1.

Late night final

2011-11-23T03:15:00.004Z

There's really only one thing I like more than polishing off an evening of a hearty three course meaty-meats meal (washed down in a tidal wave of cocktails, pints, and wines) with a little snackette of crisps, choco, and a jolly old dollop of the satirical kind of stuff.

But I'm not telling you lot.

My mind has never been so boggled

2011-11-22T00:18:00.000Z

I don't do drugs: I simply couldn't cope with the reality-fantasy confusion scenario.

But if I did, they'd probably be the best drugs in the world.

Getting above themselves

2011-11-21T06:00:00.000Z

Example 1: Amateur snapper

Example 2: Red snapper

Now, some people would be telling you about this showing two fine displays of laydeez rising up and doing their thing up a ladder.

I see a decent chap providing the expert four-square stability and support they need to pursue their little hobbies and reach such giddy heights.

You, the jury, must reach your own conclusions.

Interchangeable, but indispensible

2011-11-18T07:16:00.000Z

Sharon & Jackie

Don't you ever get your laydeez mixed up?

To avoid such complications and the possibility of embarrassment at hotels and similar, I am resolved upon the remedy of combining names to cut by half the chances of such occurrences coming up.

These two will henceforthwards be known as 'Shacky': elegant, simple, and short.

As is the new name.

I wooden do that

2011-11-17T01:11:00.001Z

You can probably see the look of disgust on my face.

Plates. It's plates of food. Not planks. Got that, Mr.Lah-Di-Dah Restaurateurerurrer?

So whenever I get wood now, I just say no.

Hat-rocious

2011-11-16T04:50:00.002Z

Separated at birth, or what?

50 years of hurt

2011-11-15T00:11:00.003Z

This is a public service warning about the drink of Havana Club.

There you are: all smooth and suave and double-O sevened-up like some secret sex maniac agent.

A matter of moments (and a half bottle of the Cuban calamity-maker) later and it's all fancy dress and acting the goat up....

But that lifestyle takes it's toll and all too soon you've gone all Dorian Gray and his picture up the attic....

And finally a well-preserved after-life as one of the denizens down below and the eternal punishment of karaoke hell...

But all in all, you just have to laugh....

Happy 50th, Commodore Jaaaaaahhhhnnnnnnn!

I'd like a party with an atmosphere

2011-11-14T03:08:00.000Z

This weekend I was happy to bestow the privilege of my presence at what will soon become not just a matter of public gawping and amazement, but also a matter of "record" - if you'll pardon the punnery.

Yes, I travelled to South East London environs.

But no, that was not the "record" whenceunder I do speak.

Yes, I quaffed mightily of the equivalent of a veritable Nebuchadnezzar of high-quality but reasonably-priced drinking champagne.

But, again no - that is not the "record" of what is the subject hereof. And anyway that's just a typical rip-roarer of a weekend for me. Or a Thursday.

And I did consume unto me the finest meats, sweetymeats, pickles, and cheesery from a table so loaded with goodness it had groaned its last.

But thrice no for third time. Are you listening? That was NOT the "record" wherehere I speak of unto.

For no, I refer of course to the Commodore Jahhhhhhhhnnnnn's 50th birthday and squirl killing festival what doubled up as the world's biggest party in the most confined space since I got all boozed up with Beattie in a phone box.

Cramped, yes. But cosy, and all my kindling kept dry, to boot.

Reunion tour

2011-11-13T00:26:00.000Z

I was dahn Sarf Lunnon an stumbled right into a photo-shoot for the reunion of Bow Wow Wow.

Haven't aged at all well, was my thinking.

Oh no, not again!

2011-11-11T00:01:00.001Z

A right turn up for the books

Like buses, it never rains but it happens twice on the trot.

Apparently this sort of thing occurs more often than you think.

It's the same backwards!

2011-11-10T00:01:00.001Z

I don't know about you, and even if I did, I wouldn't care all that much.

Having said that, though, are you too finding a spooky as I am: all this palindromic date stuff that's a-happening today for the first time in well over 4500 years?

Call me 'The Great Predicticator' if you will, but I'm sure something spectacular and surprising will happen sometime.

Breaking news: Anglo-Irish Accord

2011-11-09T01:38:00.000Z

In what can only be the most coincidental of coincidences, I am taking time out to stand in the street applauding two massively great constitutional changes both here and, of course, there.

Fistly up I am referring naturally to the change over in the Auld country permitting men to become President for the first time in a few or fourteen years now. And in doing so I must say how concerned I am at the prospect of Jack Higgins having to leave off his writing duties. Will we ever see the likes of another 'The Eagle Has Landed' now that he has to spend all his time putting a candle in his window every night for us overseas disaporanoriums?

And to turn to constitutional matters here, at home, I was appalled some time back to see that Dean Paul chap resigning from his post and giving in to the wacky demands of the bunch of liberal namby-pamby god-botherers who believe they run the good old C of D. You don't get that with an iron-crossed...sorry - I mean, iron-fisted Pope running the show, I can tell you.

But enough of me getting all political "up yo asses" as the youngsters have it in their jargoning.

Tomorrow I turn to the ongoing and interminable financial crisis in my wallet.

Bless you, my son

2011-11-08T16:01:00.004Z

Ha-lo-oh!

The results are in and I have been ennobled up, God-wise, as Saint Colin - patron of the inadequate and intemperate.

My mother will be proud of me, at last.

What more could she want than a son shinning it up the religious hierarchy?

Actually, I quite like that, I might use it again.

Take a note, Ms McK, will you?

Boff

2011-11-08T02:18:00.000Z

"And then you shout 'I'm calling the Police'.

It's not everyday I get to demonstrate my buttoneering techniques for a luvverly young laydee, but on this occasion I was more than delighted to oblige, and truly well up for it.

Unfortunately it was not to come to anything more as she had an allergy to brain-melting tie-shirt combo colour-clashes.

I was therefore forced to make her excuses and she left.

Chubster magnifico

2011-11-07T04:14:00.001Z

Everywhere I go, there I am.

Blonde ambition tour

2011-11-06T10:30:00.000Z

I was pleased to be asked to help out on the Blonde Ambition tour, even if it was as button-boy.

Mind you, she did go on a bit.

Somewhat anonymous

2011-11-04T03:57:00.001Z

No, not that easy at all

After years of intensive up-the-job training I am pleased to say that the Genius Amanuensis has finally graduated from Button Boy school, and was yesterday called upon to display his mettle in the face of an angry crowd.

I am obliged to report to you all that he passed with almost flying colours, having only once fallen prey to the bugbear of Button Boys throughout history - hairy-trigger - going off early just the once.

A shame though that his prowess was not marked by any of the dash, style, grace, and panache that marks one out as a master button-depresser, and he is, I fear, likely to remain nameless and forgettable in his newly-elevated role.

For instance, who could forget that magical moment when I was manning the knob and - just to break what was a tense and torrid atmosphere with a splash of humour - gave them all a brief blast of the Greek Finance Minister.

Possibly my proudest moment.

Fiddling in the dark

2011-11-03T03:40:00.002Z

Derrig's in the 'hood!

It is time to put an end to all the rumours circulating round about me around me.

Despite recognition of my talents in the ‘being-pulled-off’ department, and regardless of the way I am perceived by lesser sorts as ruling over conferences with my (non-chemically-enhanced) rod of iron, I am not putting myself up to “do a big job”.

I can, of course, understand how this kind of misconception gets misconceived by those who take an interest in this sort of fanciful pipe-smoking-dream-halluci-scenario.

It only takes a little ‘tap’ on the shoulder in public, and the gossip-mill gets grinding. It’s the heightened political atmosphere I work in.

But I see myself more as a man in the shadows, or an emenince grease, if you will, fiddling away in the dark behind you all.

A Grey Lord rather than a Dark Lord, I suppose you could say.

Remember, remember

2011-11-02T01:55:00.000Z

Remember, remember the 2nd and 3rd of November....

And that's all I've got to say on the matter unless the rest of it comes back to me.

Back in t'doghouse

2011-11-01T04:48:00.002Z

Shamefaced as ever.

Word reaches me (via the vine of Chandler's grapes of wrath) of a wholly unfortunate, tragic story of unimaginable misfortune and great hilarity that made me laugh a-plenty till my blooming odd socks came right off each of my tootsies. Or GHYMMLATMBOSCROEOMT as them kids have it in their 'Sexting' type-talk.

But seriously, it could have all gone madly wrong for that happily-married man and intrepid explorer Dave "Magellan" Johnson.

Having set out solo to grab a brief moment or two of solitude in a quiet and well-earned bit of respite away from the virulent source of all his joy, he strode like a maniac off the well-established path.

Did he not learn the country code, I ask you? What's he like, eh, readers?

So, while waiting for the safety of darkness, he decided to build himself a refuge in the shape of a tent formed from a load of old scratchy brambles, as you do. There he rolled around a bit in his all-weather shorts and t-shirt, scourging himself to pass the time.

Severe brambling, pictured.

Within a mere matter of hours a team of rescuers came upon him bramble-scarred, dazed, confused, and seated in front of an impressively-constructed fire, drinking a flagon of ale, in a bar. Where he denied he was hiding until the forecast 'Hurricane June' had blown over. (Which it never will, as far as I can see.)

A remarkable story and a poignant warning about the dangers of rushing into marriage, methinks. As they say, the man who marries in haste, repents at his leisure, on a hillside. Desolate.

A St.Brandy dog, somewhere or other.

Quandary corner

2011-10-31T01:07:00.001Z

"Blondie(s)" - Hanging on the telephone

Following my successful and repeated pulling-off, I am very sorely in need of some relief - not to mention soothing unguents - down Stevenage way, if you get my drift.

So imagine my surprise when they send along two "blonde-my-eye" laydeez to take up the slack.

Obviously, unlike myself, they were far from peak condition and prone to frequent breaks from the mind-melting pressure of dealing with our paying customers. As can be seen above.

But, to get to my quandary, what am I to call this loyal and dedicated team of distaff delectables?

And I've already ruled out 'call girls', Beattie.

Your suggestions please to the Hell-o-oh Hotline on 0845 335 0845.

Peripatetic phone banker!

2011-10-28T02:20:00.000+01:00

Hell-o-oh!

I have been pulled-off yet a-blooming-gain and enjoying it right up to eleven! It's a triple-tastic blow-out super pulling-off that has seen me roving the country as far as the delightful monstrosity that is Stevenage.

If this goes on I could end up being pulled-off virtually every minute.

It's not easy being such a banker.

Devious, truculent, and unreliable? Moi?

2011-10-27T03:07:00.002+01:00

I, in all of the sincerity I wish I could muster ever, do hereunder wish you better luck this time up, courtwise, with the enemy.

Statuesqueue

2011-10-26T02:27:00.007+01:00

Caught, and flagrantely so

I can't really tell you all that much about the delightful and ethnically-scrumptious little platter of goodness I was tucking into last night, but my Godfathers could she drink!

Starstruck or moonlightering?

2011-10-25T01:07:00.001+01:00

Spot the namesake competition....

If you've got yourself a bit of fame but it's not you and so forth, rush the details to the usual address by which I'll be happy to embarrass whoever.

Russian spy exposed

2011-10-24T05:43:00.003+01:00

It seems it's not only weirdy-beardy DemoLib MPs who are caught up in a web of international intrigue.

For I, Derrig, have also now uncovered one in the midst of our very own midst at the All-New Club Derrig TM.

I have had my suspicions already got up by the misbehaviour and strange apparel of this espionager-cum-mysteriant.

I have now had the wool thoroughly and roughly removed from on my eyes by the actions of this wicked impersonator, going round pretending to be one of us ordinary loyal subjects of ER indoors.

Yes, I can reveal all now.

For Twin of Evil A has been unmasked as none other than............

.............Ivana Haffamanova!

Tugger-in-chief

2011-10-21T01:55:00.000+01:00

That's me. Tugging away like a good'un.

There's nothing I like much better than jolly good tug, especially when I'm at the end of my rope. The oxygen-deprivation mask-thingy is an added bonus.

It's a good stress-buster, and in these troubled times of troubled financial troubles, can also be turned to being a nice little earner of mutually assured de-stressment.

If you think you can beat my tugging antics, send in your snap to the usual address and I'll consider going mano-a-mano with you for Top Tugger.

On tenterhooks

2011-10-20T05:54:00.000+01:00

Well it's all quite literally out in the open now.

Yes, at last the truth will become known to all about just why I’ve been wandering about all cock of the walk.

And it’s the explanation for my absence away from these shores elsewhere out of the country for a few days.

It’s only a matter of time before the results come through.

But I’m feeling confident.

After all, the photographic evidence is quite conclusive.

Up The Arse!

2011-10-19T12:44:00.001+01:00

Lovely, lads.

As ever I have been watching the mighty big "Arse" and their progress through the Cup of Europe's Sporting League of Championshits.

I have so far been delighted with their marvellous playing and kicking the ball around a bit, and all the kissing. Very invigorating if you're getting all chilly-willy on the terraces, as I often am, especially in the great British weather we are having, aren't we?

I have therefore, against my better judgement, forked out the princely sum of five pounds sterling to Power Paddy on a betting prediction of what I think in my own mind will be the outcome of tonight's clash of the tight'uns.

I'm betting that it'll be 0-0 at half time, with no goals scored at all by that point, i.e. nil-nil. I've combined that bet with my guess sucked up out of the blue that the end result will stand at....oooooh.... 1-0 to the big "Arse".

And I'm also rolling all that up in a double-carpet (wagering slang-talk) and going out on my limb that Ramsey will score the only goal...possibly in the stoppage time for time stopped added on at the end after normal time.

Naturally, if my contract for a huge amount of winnings off that little flutter comes up trumping, I will be treating all my good friends to a right slop-up nosh gratis on the morrow.

Yes, gratis free.

My kind of gals

2011-10-18T04:45:00.002+01:00

You know me, a man of the world and out of it. That's what it says on my business card any road up.

And you'll know that I'm not one to stand on my dignity. For one thing it would be quite painful.

And you'll also be aware that I have no trucking with 'class', or 'class' as I believe they pronounce it up the Northern bits.

But I have to say that when it comes to schools, I'm a sucker for a bit of posh.

Hence my admiration of the marvellous estalishment pictured above and its alumnica.

Better than that LSU mob of harridans, is my view.

Busy, busy, busy

2011-10-17T02:23:00.000+01:00

"Who? Us? What haven't we done now?"

It's not easy handing out leaflets, I can tell you.

And especially so when seated at a table in a comfy hotel adjacent to a bar.

About yesterday...

2011-10-14T05:37:00.001+01:00

Some bright spark sent me this for a reason that is - to your adored me - totally unfathomable.

Maybe it's a joke?

Second helpings

2011-10-13T03:22:00.001+01:00

Said Simple Simon to the pie man, "let me taste your wares".

Twice.

Dial me up, baby

2011-10-12T05:36:00.000+01:00

Here's me, giving it my all in my pin-money job for 'Chaps 4 U', a discreet service for discerning phone owners.

His Empire Expandeth Everywhichway

2011-10-11T10:01:00.000+01:00

He knows what them laydeez likes

I was delighted totally not at all much indeed to find in Chesterium an emporium with a franchise of Commodorium Jon 'Squirl-Killer' Richard's 'Bits-And-Bobs-For-Them-Burly-Type-Laydeez-Me-Hearties'.

I believe his cup it does runneth right over and all down the side of the sofa.

If The Wind Turns....

2011-10-11T04:39:00.000+01:00

What has brought that pensive and weary look to my visage, I hear you all crying out of concern for yours truliest.

It is, of course, that I have been taken away from my interim role of overlording it as campaigning-against-that-which-we-cannot-tolerate supremo.

I have been rushed to the ancient town of Chesterium for the annual general meeting of the Sir Colin Derrig Appreciation Society (Elders Division).

It's not something that I would normally complain about, but it means I have been pulled off twice in quick succession.

Hence the fizzog.

Driving Me Mad, Fourthly

2011-10-10T04:10:00.000+01:00

I'm beginning to feel like General Noriega hiding out in Panamamama.

Good to have the original version at last, though.

Driving Me Mad, Thrice

2011-10-07T06:08:00.000+01:00

Where do these songs in my head come from?

Burl-Esque

2011-10-06T01:26:00.003+01:00

Scrubby

Apparently, according to 'feministas' and 'sistas', this is grossly offensive to women types.

No - me neither.

Is there any man out there who can explain this in a way that I can actually hear?

Beattie's Finest Hour, Dammit

2011-10-05T02:56:00.005+01:00

And more,

Much more than this,

I did it my way

It comes to a pretty old pass when you hold the annual top-brains quiz of the century effort and the so-called 'Champeen Knower Always Winner' Beattie can't even get back from his gadding about in the Americas to defend what little reputation he hasn't already squandered in disreputable establishments with flock wallpaper, red velvet curtains, and hot and cold running flibbertigibbets.

So it came as some relief that he was apparently able - through the medium of 'BillBerry' - to convey the necessary answers to a team of puppets he had orchestrated to keep his flag flying at the tip of his pole.

How that bunch of ne'er-do-wells (with the aid of Beattie's simple instructions and the underhanded guidance of the Genius Amanuensis transmitted via the medium of pillow-chat-cheatery) got away with it, I for one or the other do not know and do not care to know what.

So, he wins again.

I can therefore only commiserate with the Lady Jojojojojojojo, her Spiv, Joe 'J"JD"D' Dolan, and the bearded Hughmunculus on the matter of their feeble-mindedness.

Colin's Call Centre

2011-10-04T01:44:00.002+01:00

Barrel of monkeys, if you ask me.

I, Derrig, have been taken up the cudgels in support of our great campaign for defending ourselves from whatever they might choose to chuck up us, them buggers.

I have been leading vast teams of phone banking volunteers who have an enormous range of skills* to get our message across to people about why we will not put up with what it is.

Here's a sample of the kind of 1-2-1 engagement they have been engaging in with other ones.

Phoner: I'm calling on behalf of Sir Colin Derrig.

Phonee: That bastard!?! Who gave him my number?

and

Phoner: Sir Colin Derrig has personally asked me to call you.

Phonee: That bastard!?! Who gave him my number?

And so forth.

One is continually surprised by the very warm reception that the Derrig name of mine elicits from those who hear of it down their earpiece.

It's a remarkable system with some correspondingly remarkable statistics:

54 hours

3 volunteers

4 calls (two successful)

1 legal case (pending)

1 deposit (5%) taken on a pair of uPVC double-glazed windows

Ree-sult!

*non-verbal

That 'Speech' In Full

2011-10-03T04:55:00.004+01:00

Listen, up you yankee buffoons

Sadly, or you may think counterwise, the live feed of Beattie's address to the Bostonian branch of the SEI-EI-O went down immediately before he got to speak. It is therefore with the greatest of regret that I am able to reproduce here what he did say to them assembled there for him to speak at, which I have faithfully transcribed from the FBI files.

(Coughs.) My fellow Americans, It gives me great pleasure, and always has done.

So I want you to know how much of a privilege it is for you to be sitting listening to me at this momentous time.

I came in a big metal bird from across the sea to stay in your big concrete teepees and drink your beer, which - frankly - is pish.

But you didn't beg me to come here as a last-minute replacement for the two other people who couldn't be arsed to come but you'd have preferred. I am told.

So let's get down to business and the what I am here about.

Χρωματιστά σε βοσκοτόπια των χορού ευκαιρία αφήνει μάγια της πρόκλησης,
Διασκεδάζει, αλλά πραγματικά στην σκέψη, έφυγε από όλη την θάλασσα.
Αυγή της σκέψης μεταφέρονται μέσω στιγμές των ημερών γης
Αποκαλύπτοντας διαδρόμους του χρόνου προκαλεί τις μνήμες, αποσπασματικά, αλλά με
Σκοπός,

Διεισδύσεις λαχτάρα να προσφέρει συνδέσεις με τα αιχμηρά του εκπαιδευτή τον εαυτό του
και προσφορά αγάπης, όπως κάναμε με τον αέρα, μια εικόνα της απόστασης.
Αυγή της εξουσίας μας διασκεδάζουν redescending τόσο γρήγορα όσο κατάχρηση
Έκφραση, καθώς μόνο για να διδάξουν την αγάπη για να αποκαλύψουν το πάθος κυνηγούν
Αργά σε γωνίες, και χορέψαμε από τον ωκεανό.

Αυγή της αγάπης μέσα μας έστειλε τα χρώματα της αφύπνισης μεταξύ των πολλών
Δεν θα την ακολουθήσει, μόνο κομμάτια από μια διαφορετική ηλικία, καθώς καλύπτουν τις συνδέσεις

Ατελείωτες χάδια μας για την ελευθερία του ζωή αιώνια.

Διεισδύσεις λαχτάρα να προσφέρει συνδέσεις με τα αιχμηρά του εκπαιδευτή τον εαυτό του
και προσφορά αγάπης, όπως κάναμε με τον αέρα, μια εικόνα της απόστασης.
Αυγή της εξουσίας μας διασκεδάζουν redescending τόσο γρήγορα όσο κατάχρηση
Έκφραση, καθώς μόνο για να διδάξουν την αγάπη για να αποκαλύψουν το πάθος κυνηγούν
Αργά σε γωνίες, και χορέψαμε από τον ωκεανό.

Αυγή της αγάπης μέσα μας έστειλε τα χρώματα της αφύπνισης μεταξύ των πολλών
Δεν θα την ακολουθήσει, μόνο κομμάτια από μια διαφορετική ηλικία, καθώς καλύπτουν τις συνδέσεις

Διεισδύσεις λαχτάρα να προσφέρει συνδέσεις με τα αιχμηρά του εκπαιδευτή τον εαυτό του
και προσφορά αγάπης, όπως κάναμε με τον αέρα, μια εικόνα της απόστασης.
Αυγή της εξουσίας μας διασκεδάζουν redescending τόσο γρήγορα όσο κατάχρηση
Έκφραση, καθώς μόνο για να διδάξουν την αγάπη για να αποκαλύψουν το πάθος κυνηγούν
Αργά σε γωνίες, και χορέψαμε από τον ωκεανό.

Αυγή της αγάπης μέσα μας έστειλε τα χρώματα της αφύπνισης μεταξύ των πολλών
Δεν θα την ακολουθήσει, μόνο κομμάτια από μια διαφορετική ηλικία, καθώς καλύπτουν τις συνδέσεις

Now, where's my expenses?

Driving Me Mad, Too

2011-09-30T01:04:00.000+01:00

I don't what it is, but this song is also ricocheting round my bonce.

Life and soul

2011-09-28T07:16:00.001+01:00

Two beers on the go AND he's fingering up his own BillBerry.

It seems multi-tasking is part of the All-New Job Description for Commodore Jahhhhhhhn.

Driving Me Mad

2011-09-27T03:20:00.000+01:00

Ever get one of those tunes you can't get out of your flipping brain?

In The Wet Patch

2011-09-26T02:05:00.002+01:00

Reconstruction

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times down at the All-New Club Derrig.

There we were - slurping up our drinks - when all of a sudden I went totally Kirk Douglas and managed to cover the rather over-imbibulous Genius Amanuensis with the contents of his own glass of top quality vin.

Fortunately for him, and not so for me, he had a second glass on the go and responded in a swiftly revengeful and unecessary manner, dousing yours truly to immense proportions.

Never have I been so old a soak. Be-drenched with inundation doesn't even cover it.

Mind you, it did put the orgy-tastic behaviours on the next sofa into proportion.

The laundry bill is in the post!

Speaking in Tongues

2011-09-23T07:05:00.006+01:00

Picture for illustration purposes only.

I want to start by thanking you all for coming here today at what is clearly a crucial time for me, as you can tell by the suit-tie-jacket combo I’m wearing.

It’s always good to have one’s acolytes gathered in hushed reverence when one has to impart news of great impartment.

It is a rare occasion on which I forego my usual merry banterisms and witty reparteree, so you will know the degree to which I have come up with the very serious face you see before you and that if – I say if! If! If there is at any time a smile on my face, its only there trying to fool the public.

But when it comes down to fooling you – now that’s quite a different subject.

Moving swiftly on from that miraculous digression, I come now to the meat of my message, and I urge you to pay attention with your ears and brains:

Τα μάτια μου πεποίθηση, επισκιάζεται με τους νεότερους φεγγάρι επιτυγχάνεται με την αγάπη. Θα αλλάξει σχεδόν τεταμένες ανάμεσα σαφές μάννα από ψηλά. I σταυρώθηκε μίσος μου και πραγματοποιήθηκε η λέξη μέσα το χέρι μου. Υπάρχει σας, ο χρόνος, η λογική, ή τους λόγους που δεν καταλαβαίνουμε.

Sad θάρρος υποστήριξε τα θύματα στέκεται ακόμα για να τις δουν όλοι, Όπως τεθωρακισμένα υποκινητές πήρε πλησίασε για να έχουν θέα στη θάλασσα. Δεδομένου ότι υπάρχει το καλώδιο, την άδεια, ή τους λόγους που καταλάβαμε θα είναι.

Κάτω στην άκρη, κοντά από ένα ποτάμι. Κοντά στην άκρη, γύρω από τη γωνία. Κοντά στο τέλος, κάτω από τη γωνία. Κάτω στην άκρη, γύρω από το ποτάμι.

Αιφνίδια προβλήματα που δεν θα πρέπει να οδηγεί τον τρόμαξε μνήμη. Συνολικά, το ταξίδι σας μεταφέρει σε όλη τη διαδρομή. Όπως πέρα από κάθε πραγματικότητα που έχετε δει ποτέ και είναι γνωστό. Μαντέψουν τα προβλήματα μόνο για να εξαπατήσει το αναφέρω, Περνώντας μονοπάτια που ανεβαίνουν στα μισά του δρόμου στο κενό.
Καθώς περνάμε από πλευρά σε πλευρά, ακούμε ότι η συνολική μάζα διατηρούν.

It is happening again....

2011-09-22T05:46:00.003+01:00

Let me take you on a brain-mind experiment.

Imagine yourself two hundred years in the future.

You are in a room with four people all looking at you.

There is a film projected on a wall, showing a chimpanzee in a hat. The film is on a loop: the chimpanzee keeps lifting its hat and bowing.

Again and again and again.

Someone is singing in the next room, but you can’t quite make out the words. It’s clearly a lament, possibly an Irish folk song or even a sea shanty.

The other people in the room start pointing at you and shouting.

Your hands are shaking as you try to drink the hot liquid – Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? - in the cup before you.

Hammers - lots of them. Then a tap, dripping.

A man in a tall hat walks into the room and says “Everything has changed. Do it all again. The deadline has been brought forward. You will not be allowed back.”

Then everything goes dark, and all you can hear is people moving around, stumbling and bumping into things.

Welcome to my world of campaigning.

Boss Lady Done Gone

2011-09-21T03:15:00.002+01:00

It is a truly sad day when your overseer scoots off for a balmier (and loftier) situation up on the 3rd floor.

As the tumbleweeds gather at her old desk, and the office vultures steal away her stash of Blu-Tacky and Post-It-Up Notes, it seems the time is right for suitably mournful music.

Bumped up a notch

2011-09-20T23:58:00.001+01:00

Far from walking the plank as has been suggested he should be a-doing of, it seems Cap'n Jahhhhhhhn has been elevated beyond his powers to the ranks of those who should be obeyed, but never arrrrrrr.

Congratulations, Commodore Jahhhhhhn on this excellent bit of bribery you done.

The Man Who Quite Literally Decked Himself

2011-09-19T01:55:00.000+01:00

No further commentary needed, is my opinion.

Spooky McGookie

2011-09-16T07:26:00.003+01:00

There is nothing more scary than a haunted house, unless it is a haunted great big office building.

Every attempt was made to design-in the most modernest features and eradicate anything ghosty or spookful. For instance, preserving and tarting-up as part of the project an old hospital place where they cut up screaming women, some of whom pegged out.

Despite this, it appears that the All-New Derrig Towers has become spooked-a-plenty.

Check the evidence above of an especially scary horror-face in a window of my establishment captured on my very own 'Shake-O-Cam'.

I was never sickened quite so much as what I did gush out on seeing this supernatural oddity.

But - and I think this is the question, is it not?

It's an enigma that may never be solved - like magnets or even vegetables.

And also just who is it in that window?

Will we ever know the truth?

Will we ever know who it is that moans and struts the halls in such uncanny fashion?

Scrambled!

2011-09-15T06:50:00.003+01:00

Yes, having been on "foot-war" for a not inconsiderable period of the past day or so, we have already been scrambled in readiness for "The Big Day".

I have been dusting down my hi-vis raiment and buffing up my hailer. All is gleaming as we enter upon the road to "The Big Day".

"The Big Day" by all accounts will be even bigger than the last "The Big Day" involving even more massed ranks sporting baseball caps, tabards, and ponchos - all of which are at a premium because of a world shortage created by the Chinese taking a day off. I am told.

I am writing lists and chivvying people up. "It's time to get off your duffs and play with your part" is my rallying cry.

And for my efforts I have been rewarded with a brand new designation: "Unrealistic Expectations Delivery Commandant".

Yes it's all go here.

So, forward!

Forward to "The Big Day".

Stuff it in your calendar, would you?

Tugging

2011-09-14T01:52:00.001+01:00

"Pull!"

I am keeping myself in a permanent state of readiness - on a "war-foot", if you will - just on the off-chance I get my opportunity to step up to the plate and offer my services.

It's a difficult balancing act, staying ready without actually "sallying forth", so to speak. That teetering on the edge - it's all tension and gritted teeth, let me tell you.

I put my success so far down to my mental discipline, reciting in my mind the names of the England World Cup winning squad as a diversionary delaying device. It can make all the difference between staying firm of purpose and simply going off half-cocked.

My greatest fear? That I could suddenly get pulled off.

But it's a risk I'm willing to take.

Sponsorship Con

2011-09-13T06:57:00.006+01:00

A Little Briton

I have been inspired up to the back teeth by all these celebrities undertaking massive feats of physical endurance stuff the likes of which have captured the British imagination for funding.

Most recently people have dug deep for that brilliant comic Mack Lucas and his "non-stop" chundering and crapping up a river for children.

Now I'm not one to criticise such efforts, but I am.

It's all very well this physical endurance malarkey, but travails of the brain seem to me so much more demanding. Of course, these slebs are not really up to the mark on that area.

So I am taking on a challenge of my own with sponsorship from you. For every pound you send me I will remove from my extensive conversational flurries one mention of Formula One, or war, or what was on the box last night.

Simply stick your pound coin to a piece of card with the word 'car shite', or 'fighting a lot', or 'boring telly' - the choice is yours - and rush it to me at the usual address.

Remember, you can sponsor me as many time as you like. You can also dig deep unto me through 'PayChap' to my charity internet-pocket site 'RakeItInForCol.com'.

It couldn't be easier.

The Lesser-Spotted Genius Amanuensis

2011-09-09T05:10:00.000+01:00

Dapper, charming, suave, tanned, charismatic.

No. Not at all.

Hot Stallion Man

2011-09-08T17:20:00.003+01:00

A book

Twin of Evil A, having despatched with alacrity the literary opinions of her oppo, Twin of Evil 1, pursues her bibliographic assaults with this intemperate and savage bit of quoting at yours truly.

"...he had ceased to express his fondness for her in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses, as if conscious there could be no gratification in lavishing such marks of affection on him."

Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights, Ch. 8

You know - I like that man's style. Loathe 'em and leave 'em - that's my motto. And he's clearly got that superior randy-up-a-ding-dong swagger that I am so well renowned for in my parts. Very much like me, en factotum.

But lawks-a-mercy-o why isn't the young flibbertigibbet lavishing marks of affection on him? I thought that's the kind of thing they went for?

I await with interest the riposte of Twin of Evil 1.

Casus Belli: Bronte

2011-09-08T06:36:00.001+01:00

One of them Bronte bunch

I am a great admirer of old-type books full of all that grandiose languifying and romancing up the laydeez and whatever.

And I also enjoy a good old chinwag of literary criticism matters, especially those conducted on the higher intellectual planes.

Lacan...Althusser...Levi-Strauss - I can't get enough of them and their crazy denim fashions.

So, imagine my unbounded delight at having the good fortune to be quite literally sandwiched between the Twins of Evil as they tongue-lashed each other over none other than one or other of the Brontes.

I have tried to remember the full content of the discussion, and render it faithfully here as follows:

Twin of Evil 1: That's shit'n'all, that Wuthering one.

Twin of Evil A: You shut the fack up, you.

I think it's fair to say Twin of Evil A landed the winning blow.

I am now very much looking forward to the next Laydeez Book Club, which is scheduled for 12 three-minute rounds, and could be settled by a Knock-Out.

Lunacy With Intent

2011-09-07T04:21:00.002+01:00

Tallulah has sent me this charming and very moving picture/poem of her recent stay at The Priory.

I'm not sure we've invented a cure yet for what she's got.

Salutations, old girl!

Gay Replacement

2011-09-06T05:44:00.000+01:00

I am putting myself up for the job of being a replacement for Gaybo.

Eireland has awaited too long filling in that vacancy he left on the screens of all and about on the telly.

That, or I'm going to take the cloth.

Chef D'Ambience 5

2011-09-02T01:11:00.000+01:00

Now this is what I'm talking about.

Top quality bar snacks with a continental edge.

Up-market, chic, and chock-full of E numbers. It's the future, alright.

Just Teste-ing

2011-09-01T04:40:00.003+01:00

I call one Twin of Evil A and the other Twin of Evil 1.

Una paloma blanca not pictured.

(Come on, get a grip, man!)

Drained

2011-08-31T06:10:00.002+01:00

Off all yesterday in bed with a right banging throbber.

Woke up this morning and it had completely subsided.

Not like the old days.

Chef D'Ambience 4

2011-08-30T07:31:00.001+01:00

Just for the benefit of the tape, can I hereby formally deny I am abusing my position as Head of Ambience and the research it entails in order to expand my romancing of someone whose name will go unmentionable.

Chef D'Ambience 3

2011-08-28T02:10:00.000+01:00

Now this is more like it. At least it's what our punters up The All-New Club Derrig will go for. Big time.

Madrid - City of Splendour

2011-08-27T11:04:00.002+01:00

Simply El Magnificentico.

The Return of The Twins of Evil

2011-08-24T05:12:00.000+01:00

Who knows what these two are planning in a secret corner of the All-New Club Derrig? But whatever it is it looks downright full of sauciness, and probably involves giving me a smacker on the chops.

You see - you give them the vote and they think they can do what they like to me.

Hopefully.

High as a Kite

2011-08-19T16:23:00.001+01:00

So much for the Genius Amanuensis "researching ambience".

Trouble With My Equipment

2011-08-17T01:45:00.000+01:00

It seems my equipment has been proving a let down for some people.

Even when I deploy it for the enjoyment of the masses, it is, I am told, rather feeble and unreliable.

Especially in public, or so they say at me.

I look after it well, keep it clean, and safely tucked away when not in use, and I've carefully marked it up with what end goes in what, so I don't know what's going wrong.

I've even manipulated it down on all-fours and almost behind the scenes.

You know what I think? I'll never satisfy some people.

Not even if I had a professional knob-twiddler helping out.

Laydee Power

2011-08-14T14:41:00.000+01:00

I have finally fallen for the demands of the rampant hordes of laydees in their desire to achieve enfranchisement through dashing out under horses and chaining themselves across stuff that I want to get into.

It's been a long hard struggle for me, as a man, to get myself in to their way of thinking about this and I hereby do say I want no more of it. I give in.

Please accept this photographic evidence of my full backing of you lot, now leave me alone.