Coming soon…

Posted on January 12, 2011

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an update.

It has certainly been a while since I’ve posted anything.  But then again, why bother posting these days when you can email?

Now, if that level of wit doesn’t whet your appetite for a 2011 of fun and frivolity then I’m in trouble, because there is a veritable postman’s sack full of puns of a similar calibre which I’m struggling to restrain from their natural inclination to saunter across these very pages.

I should apologise for the poor pun in the opening there, but I’m sorry to say it’s out the bag now (or postman’s sack for those that need assistance keeping up with the languid pace that these puns keep coming).  This isn’t an official post, it’s merely a preface to something altogether more wholesome and possibly thought out, so stick with me and who knows what we might talk about in 2o11?

Postman Pat

Postman Pat: Courtesy of the BBC (what a wonderful example of making television to dull the ambitions of the young). I am actually considering writing a script for a children's programme based around the life of a kebab van man. Imagine the fun he could have in his hunt for dead cats and pigeons each day. Of course I'd have to include all aspects of society to cover the PC brigade, so I'm currently writing up the backgrounds for several key characters. I've got to be honest though, I am struggling to incorporate a transgendered paraplegic trampolinist into the story. The particular problem I'm having with that character is working through a believable scenario whereby he/she can manoeuvre themselves up high enough in order to enter into a discourse with Kareem (the kebab man) through his serving hatch - hence the shoehorning of the trampolinist bit into their background story.

I should explain, or at least offer up some form of excuse for my blatant lack of activity here these last few weeks.  What can I say?  Well, there has been the small matter of Christmas and New Year, oh and the birth of my beautiful baby daughter.  One, or all, of those can leave you covered in sick in my experience – which is not particularly helpful when you are trying to type at the computer.

There has however been many an occasion when a topic has struck me as being worthy of note on this very blog, but no topic has ever quite annoyed me enough to do anything about it.  It would be remiss of me to just ignore these irritants however, so here’s what I can remember I almost blogged about:

New Years Honours – what a load of utterly patronising old boy’s network guff that is.  I urge you to take a look at this list and not start rolling your eyes at the trinkets which are handed out to the “Tufty Club”.  I say the Tufty Club, because a friend on mine (Scott Tompkins – he could be any one of the people shown here) refers to people in self aggrandising networks as “being in the Tufty Club”.  I have just Googled “Tufty Club” and discovered that it was a road safety club which started in 1961.  I’ve no idea why Scott associates this club with people similar to those on the new years honours list, but I like the link.  I especially like the comment on the Tufty Club page: By 1972, Tufty Club membership had reached two million and Tufty was an icon – even appearing in panto alongside Ted Rogers in 1984 (I’m not sure if that’s ironic or sarcastic?). Where’s Tufty’s honour I ask you?  I bet Ted Rogers got one for services rendered to crap telly.

Here is a real example on the 2011 list:  John Carr. For services to Dairy Exports and to Business in the North East. (Lancaster, Lancashire)

I have to enquire as to what services this man performed?  If he was such a great exporter of dairy then how come it is impossible to get drinkable milk as soon as you set foot off this island?  Mind you exporting to someone from Lancashire means anywhere not in Lancashire.  All that said, he’s probably one of the more deserving on the list.

Another topic that annoyed me was the portrayal of the Royal engagement and Kate Middleclasston.  The red tops were particularly banal in their coverage.  Are we really meant to believe this story that the Prince is marrying just your typical everyday, perfectly average, middle class girl?  Have they ever heard her speak?   I have, and if she’s middle class then most women who I previously assumed were middle class must in fact be secretly working in lap dancing clubs of an evening to make ends meet because they don’t sound like Kate.

 

Kate and William

There's no mistaking the genetic code involved is there. For goodness sake, she's even pictured here with her horse!

Strictly X-Factor’s Apprentice On Ice Get me out of here I’ve no idea what I was going to say about the reality TV shows which hogged the schedules in December.  I think we can all assume it wouldn’t have been complimentary however, but fortunately I can’t remember if I had a point.  There’s certainly enough material to be had from these shows.  I suspect that the only reason Bruce Forsythe didn’t feature on the New Years Honours List was because he actually died at some point in the late 2oth century and he is actually a computer generated rendition of a geriatric  put on the TV to dumb down the masses.

Eco Taxation was another title which I’d typed in for a blog which never happened.  Was I for or against, hmmm… let me think.  I might come back to that one this year as it’s already annoying me just typing this.

They say you can’t polish a turd, so I’ll stop now.  Whilst I wholeheartedly agree with the sentiment in the statement “you can’t polish a turd” I do have a few misgivings.  Namely, how do they know this to be a fact?  I suspect with enough hairspray and patience you could polish a turd, I’d go as far as to say that a student has at some point proven this, but then again why bother when most turds seem perfectly shiny just the way nature made them?  Also, if you can’t polish a turd, how do you explain Lord Sugar?

2011 is another year which will indubitably offer up countless opportunities which will irk and irritate me to a point of action.  By action, read moan.

So, here’s to 2011.  The year of the rabbit.  The year of the rabbit.  That is so underwhelming it is worth stating twice.  I might just go back to hibernating at home watching Postman Pat on the telly.

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