cattle on bikes

A brief history of President Eems

2006-06-15T04:53:00.000-07:00

Whilst studying American history at University I read an intriguing snippet of information that made me do some extra curricular research into one of the most colourful but least known of all the American Presidents. I was reminded of this guy when I found out the lolly pop man near my house that I say hello to most mornings is called Percy Eems (although the president was called Flannery Eems)

I'll keep it short as a lot of people think history is boring and in truth there is not a great deal of info available on the man. I have got most of my facts from just three books so apologies for the narrow reference points.

In 1809 a heavily pregnant Pernilla Eems and her husband Aymon (later spelled Eamon) arrived at Ellis Island as immigrants from Dublin looking to make a new start in the land of opportunity. A 4 month voyage that saw 121 of the 700 passengers on board die had taken a real toll on Pernilla and there were genuine fears for the well being of her unborn child. Due to her delicate nature and faint links to English aristocracy (the history is very difficult to trace here but she always claimed that her ancestors - the Sneddons - had been granted lands in Ireland from the restored Charles II) the young couple were housed in a relatively well developed area of New York. The key to the story of President Eems was that he was born on his parents very first day in the States and thereby qualified to run for president some 40 years later as an American citizen.

I will jump ahead now to the actual terms of his presidency and then back fill some of the earlier details as this is fascinating stuff.

President Flannery Eems held office for a total of 17 days. During that time he replaced two supreme court judges, relocated the White house and was alleged to have assaulted 9 members of his staff including the then Attorney General Anthony Slice. The year was 1851.

In 1850 President Zachary Taylor died in office after choking on a fish bone. Taylor was the darling of the north and personally held the union together when the southern state leaders threatened to withdraw over rows concerning slavery in the Mexican states. In February 1850 President Taylor had held a stormy conference with southern leaders who threatened secession. He told them that if necessary to enforce the laws, he personally would lead the Army. Persons "taken in rebellion against the Union, he would hang ... with less reluctance than he had hanged deserters and spies in Mexico." He never wavered. His death in office caused great distress as some predicted it pre-empted the death of the union itself.

Enter Flannery Eems, a low level congressman representing the Lower East Side of New York (which in those times was the congressional ticket of New Conway). His staunch anti - southern speeches had raised his profile beyond his immediate area although his weekly column in the New York Shouter newspaper had won him few friends within the Senate. One memorable tirade in the paper saw Eems naming 25 fellow congressmen as "leaving unpleasant and fetid stench in the tea rooms due to poor hygene and a negro's diet".

But cometh the hour cometh the man. The Irish community foisted him towards running for leadership and the nervousness of the northern state leaders, rightly concerned about the economic devastation of a southern secession, allowed him a clear run for President. He had only two rivals on the ballot, incredibly one of these rivals was subsequently declared inelligible as he had 3 prosecutions for animal molestation. Eems took great joy in declaring "now the pig stroking, horse loving, dog kisser is out - let the nation decide between the good sense of the Irish and the flip flopping, question dodging Canadian"!!! The other rival, Stephen Penn, was not infact a Canadian but he was commonly referred to as such due to his many public appearances in which he insisted on carrying his axe. The party did indeed choose and Eems was given office on a vote of 12 - 6.

And so to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Construction ha begun on the White house when the first cornerstone was laid in October of 1792. Although President Washington oversaw the construction of the house, he never lived in it. It was not until 1800, when the White House was nearly completed, that its first residents, President John Adams and his wife, Abigail, moved in. Since that time, each President had made his own changes and additions. The White House is, after all, the President’s private home. The changes made by President Eems were perhaps a little overstated to say the least. He moved it to New York!!!! Of course he didn't physically move the White House but after just 5 days in office he claimed "not to care for the Washington way" and after knocking three state rooms into one to house his planned indoor zoo decided that home was where his heart was and packed up the entire contents and staff to be relocated to New York. He declared New York to be the capital of the Federal states and housed himself in the City's convention centre.

Those 12 days in the convention centre were referred to as "the twelve days America wants to forget" by Douglas Chops in his book "Americas forgotten leaders from Van Buren to Taft". The assaults on staff became commonplace and Eems seemed more keen to host lavish parties than run the country. He had been raised Catholic but held a deep resentment of organised religion (this only came out after he had been sworn in as religion still dominated American lives at this time). The hilariously named Cardinal Puppy, after a meeting with Eems in the convention centre, decared "God has seen fit to punish America by letting the callous lead the hopeful! This man is a charlatan of the highest order and his holding of office will set us back a year for every day". Eems responded to this by using $1,500 dollars of public money to put up the worlds's largest sign on the convention centre which read 'Eems can come true' which had been the slogan on which he had run for President.

The replacing of the judges would have been less controversial had Eems not ousted Lloyd Fairwater, a judge with 20 years experience and the respect of his peers, with his father. Eamon Eems was 73 and had not been legally employed in the 40 odd years that he had been in America. He was also Irish and medically insane both of which technically dis-barred him. Eems ran roughshod over these rules and threatened to use armed force if necessary if any group or individual attempted to stop his father becoming a judge. It is the only example in U.S. history of a declaration of war being drawn up against one man - a Chad Parnellow who vowed to 'heckle every case the man presides over'.

Assaults were commonplace and his staff turnover ran at 375% as so few interns lasted even one shift. It is not fully known whether it was one of these disgruntled staff members that pushed Eems to his death. His death certificate reads death by mis-adventure. America did not need an assisination to deal with and no post mortem was ever taken. Three eye witnesses were 'found' who saw President Eems walking along the railings of the 4th story balcony and is was reported that he fell when startled by a large swallow flying by.

So what a period of time. And massively under reported. I must admit even I hadn't heard of him before university. And there are so few books on him as America seems almost embarrassed by him.

All in all I am just glad to have brought this fascinating guy to your attention. If any of it were true it would be even better but you can't have everything! Now there's 7 minutes of your life wasted.

The armchair shouter

2006-06-13T08:09:00.000-07:00

If you have never shouted at the television - piss off. I don't want your sort here. Weirdos.

Ideally I am now addressing telly shouters - if you throw beer cans I'm not entirely sure this is for you either, I mean, throwing beer cans, that's like one step away from beating your wife. And pull your vest down over your gut you fat can throwing wankers.

Good now that's them gone too.

Well I promised in the 10 tips and factoids post that I would provide you each with some solid racial stereotypes to get you through the world cup. I often disappoint (just ask the ladies) but not today!!! Today is all about supplying the good stuff. So much so you may well fart.

The comments are designed to help you with your shouting at the box. They are not exhaustive.

Germany - organised, efficient, prone to war.

Ecuador - As you would expect from a country that has the equator running through it - these boys are generally warm. They would sell their own mothers for a gun and ammo though.

Costa Rica - Just shout He'll Costa Packet at their good players. Just shout Costa Coffee at all other times.

Poland - A rubbish Germany. Also prone to invasion and then moaning.

Argentina - sulky, swarthy, skillfull. "you don't roll about if you are genuinely hurt" Are there no barbers in Argentina?

Holland - druggy porn barons. They'll fuck anything.

Ivory Coast - exciting to watch but I wouldn't want my daughter marrying one.

Serbia - nasty pieces of work. Or were they the goodies? Who cares.

Czech Republic - Germany with a less chequered past. (Czech-ered past)

Italy - Do use the term wop

Ghana - probably dirty, might not know the rules

USA - keep saying overtime or period - that'll show people you are funny.

France - Ah the frogs. Remember they smell, they are good lovers, their women don't shave, they like to protest.

South Korea - Be careful not to mix them up with their war mongering neighbours to the north, these are the funky easy going yank lovers.

Togo - Yeah...Togo...Erm...Good luck to 'em. I'll take my sandwich to go

Switzerland - Chocolate, clocks and army knives. And cheese.

England - no comment
Trinidad & Tobago - Anything goes here, just add "man" to whatever you shout. And make it about drugs cos they are all on drugs. They love their drugs.

Paraguay - Latin tempers, fiery characters. They are not Uruguay apparently.

Sweden - Say hoodle boodle. And then go on about Porn.

Mexico - Do use the term Gringo when doing your impression. And don't trust them.

Portugal - It's like Spain's conservatory. They used to own a lot of the planet and were right bastards. Compare Ronaldho to a giraffe.

Angola - Just wish them well and be on your way. It's nice that they're not fighting for a few weeks. Don't accidently make a reference to sweaters - that's Angorra you spoon.

Iran - Careful - they may soon have the bomb. The word plucky must be used.

Australia - They already have poisonous spiders and snakes, sharks, dingos, excessive heat, abo's and mad max to deal with - you aren't going to upset them any further. Try "what the hell was that you boomerang throwing boat sinker"

Brazil - refer to playing barefoot on the streets of Sau Paulo, beach soccer and samba spirit. But please be quiet when the camera finds the dancing ladies - often their nipples are visible through their shirts. This is to be applauded.

Croatia - Haven't I done this one? No that was Serbia. They are all the same. Nasty people.

Japan - They are tryers. God love em. They have vending machines on the streets selling soiled panties you know - this says it all.

Spain - they sulk, they disappoint and they sulk some more. I love these guys. For shouting purposes stick with Spic.

Tunisia - Camels, sand and towels. Anything else? Oh yeah dying in boats trying to get to mainland Europe. I say boats they often sail in bath tubs, on li-lo's or even just by trying to shout their way across.

Saudi Arabia - they'll chop your hands off if you touch their women. I'd chop your head off you are obviously a fool. Their women are unpleasant.

Ukraine - They breed them hard in the Ukraine. Be careful. Snow, Chicken Kiev, oil. They don't wear short shorts as they know that if you wear short shorts there is a chance that Chernobyl Fallout.

This has not been a funny post. I am sorry. There are too many teams and I have held back on my xenophobia. Just don't look at me.

Citizen Clive and his funny face

2006-05-30T03:38:00.000-07:00

There is no Clive.

The title was mis-leading. I have used words that would draw in the reader such as Clive and funny and face and Clive. And now the reader is here and reading I can give them important information that they may otherwise have avoided or ignored. I call them 10 tips or factoids from Patrick Duffy that you ought to know.

Tip or Factoid 1

Placing a plastic bag over the head of a mop or brush does not disguise it or make it easier to carry. It is a common practice used by hardware stores to assist the customer with proof of purchase. A keen security guard knows to 'stand down' upon seeing a plastic bag over the head of a mop or brush as it has been purchased rather than stolen. Lazier cashiers sometimes just tape a bag around the handle. I disapprove of this practice.

Tip or Factoid 2

All words are anagrams of themselves. Scary but true.

Tip or Factoid 3

If you have trouble remembering telephone numbers then all you need to do is create a picture association story in your head. This comes from all leading memory experts. For example my local sexually transmitted disease clinic has the telephone number 02084347892. I used to find this difficult to remember until I linked it to the following: I woke up this morning and said no to drugs (the 0 and the 2 you see). My dealer said in that case he is leaving so I shouted Oh wait (the 0 and the 8 you see). I actually want 43 ecstasy pills (the 4 and the 3 you see) and 47 wraps of speed (the 4 and the 7 you see). My dealer agreed and we decided to have breakfast. For a dare my dealer consumed just under ten weetabix, so as not to be left out I ate nine too (the 8, the 9 and the 2 you see). Such an easy way to remember the phone number for the STD clinic. However it often takes so long that by the time I make the call the eggs have hatched and the little fellas have made their own way out.

Tip or Factoid 4

If you need to cry whilst filming an emotional scene do not think about war, famine or dead relatives. Picture yourself crying. This emotional vision will be enough to make you cry. Nobody can bare to see themselves cry. I mean it's you, you're a nice guy, and you're crying. That is so moving. For realism have snot drip from your nose.

Tip or Factoid 5

There are at least 4 seats in every theatre or cinema that are kept off sale just in case of emergency. They are usually called 'house seats'. Therefore full is never full and if you hold your ground against a weak manager you will always get in. Strong managers will not relent and once you start to make a scene will infact refuse you entrance point blank and kick you out and cut you up in the car park. You lie there bleeding and scared on the wet floor just because you were adamant that you were going to see George of the Jungle. You idiot.

Tip or Factoid 6

Save time in the mornings by not brushing your teeth or washing your face. Simply eat a polo mint, or foxes glacier mint, or extra strong mint, or trebor mint, or a soft mint, or a mint imperial, or jaffa cake and you will be fine. As for the face wash....gents should grow a beard and the ladies go arab!

Tip or Factoid 7

The polar ice caps are melting. As a result polar bears and penguins are getting wet heads!!!!!! hahahahaha (because their ice - caps are melting....caps as in hats....hahahaha)

Tip or Factoid 8

During the upcoming World Cup stick rigidly to well established racial stereotypes only. This is not the time to start indroducing your own you loon. I will post shortly with ALL of the permitted stereotypes.

Tip or Factoid 9

There are 10 tips or factoids in total. This is a factoid.

Tip or Factoid 10

Men - If you keep your eyes open when sneezing your cock flies off. Women...your fanny bursts. Do not ruin your life trying to prove me wrong.

Full Metal Jacket Potato

2006-05-08T08:20:00.000-07:00

hahahahahaha - Full Metal Jacket Potato, I've made a food out of a film. There are probably others I could do...let me think...erm...I'm thinking of food and then trying to get a film...lasagna...chicken and vegetable pie...hmmm...maybe tink of a film and then get the food...erm...Dr. Zhivago...nope...oh...um...Kramer Vs Kramer....oh.

The loneliness of the long distance runner bean - yes.

So how are you all? I ask foolishly assuming there's anybody out there.

It's not easy being green - sang Megadeath in 1983 and let me tell you it isn't. I have come to work naked and painted green today and you should see some of the looks I've been getting. People seem to treat me differently due to being green. Racists. Now I know how Martin Luther King felt - cold.

Reservoir Hot Dogs - yes.

To me the idea of a wallet is to keep my money in, keep my credit cards in and to keep a condom in. The condom is for emergency use - possibly involving a child who needs a balloon model of a puppy, or if they are just fit! However a man on the tube this morning used his wallet as a pillow!!!! Seriously he leant his head back against the window and didn't like it so he balanced his wallet 'tween head and window and seemed a little happier. Or at least pretended to be happier - I mean you're not going to admit to being wrong on that call are you? "yeah I was uncomfortable so balanced my wallet behind my head...but it didn't work...oddly" So it was probably more lies in an already deceptive world.

Curly Soup - yes.

Well this was only a quick piss. Not some sort of long piss. Or a poo and piss. So I'm leaving. And I'm not washing my hands.

Saving Private Sausage, Egg, Chips and Beans - yes...no...oh.

This ain't Patrick's day

2006-04-20T03:43:00.000-07:00

Do you see what I've done there!!! This ain't Patrick's day - it's like saying The Saint Patrick's day. It's almost exactly the same. But different. And it was all done for your amusement and pleasure. The title is actually a fib - as I believe it is Patrick's day!!! Not Saint Patrick's day you understand - that was the 17th of March - but Patrick Duffty's day. And I'm Patrick Duffy.

And the reason it is my day? Well it just is. Don't begrudge this you nasties, let me enjoy it.

Okay I'll tell you. I have been made the sovereign leader of an island near Fiji. As King I have total control over the island and both it's inhabitants. A man called called Petrol and his wife Pete. I also have my face on a stamp and I'm composing a new national anthem. If I can't think of anything good I'm just gonna use Rock Me Amadeus by Falco.

I am lobbying to become a part of the United Nations, if only to meet Hans Blix and party in Luxemburg. I hope they accept my country. Weirdly it is called 17.

The island (well Petrol and Pete) survives economically by exporting bilge pumps - and every boat needs a bilge pump. Being an island it has an obvious affinity with the sea and shipping. Petrol can build a bilge pump using only coconuts and luck in 15 minutes flat. Pete is good at holding his coat. When I first met the inhabitants we laughed and laughed about bilge pumps. I said that their business was 'sinking' Petrol replied that he hoped that their profits would 'sail' away when he 'floated' the company. Pete just sang 'pump' up the jam. Happy days. I think it was the bilge mockery that convinced me life there could be great. That and Pete's radio controlled car which was brilliant.

So if my posts here suddenly stop it is because I am sitting on my throne - overseeing life on the island of 17. And probably smiling.

Obviously if anything goes wrong I will be back - hahaha I sound like that movie star...Denholm Elliot - "I'll be back"!!! Or was it Meryl Streep?

Anyway live long and prosper losers - I am king of an island and you are not!!!

Farewell.

That's it.

I'm outta here.

x

I am the Walnut goo goo g'joob

2006-03-30T03:39:00.000-08:00

Oh those Beatles, always singing about nuts. They should team up with Marc Almond (almonds), tour Brazil (brazil nuts) and shoot dead a woman called Hazel (Hazel nuts). The police would shout "oy beatles we'll Cashew (Cashew nuts) if it's the last thing we do". The Beatles could hide in a nightclub called Chio's. They could have a few drinks and end up pissed at Chio's (pistachios). They would ask some people to help them but they are engrossed in some sort of strategy game. "Help us" pleads Ringo, "we are busy" replies a seated man, "can't you see we are all chess nuts (chestnuts). "I'm bursting for the loo" moans George "and this club only seems to have tins to go in". "Oh I've heard about these pee cans (pecans) says John. Three of the fab four then noticed that Paul was missing. They found him holding a sword and touching it against the shoulders of an old lady. "I knight you in the name of the Beatles" says Paul. "Stop man, you can't make a Dame 'ere (Macadamia) - it's a nightclub" screams Ringo.

Do you see what I did there? I eased the names of the Beatles into a story about nuts!!!!!!

So how the devil is everybody? I am 43% satisfied with my life today.

How deep do you reckon the deepest puddle in the world is? A doctor on his way to Gloucester famously fell into one up to his middle and even if he were only of average height that's a pretty deep puddle. When does a puddle become a pond? I mean, up to his middle!!!!! That's outrageous. And the man was a doctor. Only trying to help people and that happened. Fuck you Karma. Unless he was one of those bad doctors....dentists I think they are called.

I might go swimming at the weekend. I like swimming. Obviously I might not - it's my weekend and who the funk are you to make demands of me?

Well it's time for my nap. Alan Sugar is coming round my house later to fire my wife and I want to look my best for him.

Live long and prosper...wazzocks

PD

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head...

2006-03-24T14:30:00.000-08:00

..."What's the weather like up there", "did your mum put you in a grow bag?", it's a good job you're not scared of heights", "freeeeeeak" hahahahahaha- being tall is so funny, you get to hear shite like this all the time, hahahahaha it's so fucking funny. Until I innocently retort...

"why don't you shut the fuck up or I'll rip out your tongue and shove it so far up your arsehole it will need it's own hat. You self absorbed piece of fucking shit. There's a trolley at the other end of the car park - aren't you supposed to put it with the others for £3.50 an hour you unsightly stain of a man. Your roll ups are all loose and that hair is worthy of it's own tv channel. And die."

Then the mood seems to change.

I like being tall sometimes, I love seeing over walls and stuff. Mostly it's not good though. Don't get me wrong I wouldn't trade it for being a stump. A diddy little pointless cough drop always having to get help when I want pickle from the shop. Why do they stock the pickle so high? Is it adult pickle? It says "now with smaller chunks for sandwiches" that doesn't sound rude. Unless the chunks are spunk drops and the sandwiches are two women. No three. No two. Three is too many...one would just have to entertain themselves - I'm not comfortable with that. Probably just one actually. I can survive a bored look in two eyes but four would be hurtful.

hello!!!!!

Today was an odd day. I was being stared at on the tube by a middle aged frumpy lady. I thought 'what's she staring at?' Then I remembered that I was strangling a dog for charity. It probably looked a bit strange to her so I tried to mouth the word charity to her but I think I mouthed the word 'burrito' instead. She got off at Balham.

The dog strangling raised £17 for Allied carpets - the ailing carpet superstore. I enjoy charity work. I ate peanuts for children in need once and even tutted for comic relief. Lenny Henry said I was "alright" by him. You can't buy pride like that. When an action is endorsed by a celebrity it feels so amazing. John Sessions once endorsed my socks on a night bus and Adam Hart Davis endorsed my sideburns at a funfair. Proud moments all.

Well no time for love Dr. Jones as the annoying oriental kid says in Temple of Doom. And by that I mean I'm outta here. And by that I mean I'm leaving.

Goodnight sports fans.

PD

Return of the Duff man

2006-03-14T13:01:00.000-08:00

Hey y'all - I'm back after a very long comfort break. I had two poos.

My sincere thanks must go to Anne Haddy who submitted an invaluable post in my absence. She did it from beyond the grave. That was swell.

Well my new pet hate is definitely women who look great from behind but turn out to be not great from the side or front. I think that is out of order. It's like biting into a juicy apple to find it contains only feathers. The worst are the ones who get you thinking "hello, that looks tempting" then you pull along side them and sneak a peek and think "whoa there Arnold, that's not good" and then you get ahead of them and perform one last check and discover they are 74 years old!!! That is like biting into a juicy apple to find it contains only feathers, feathers and bees. And the bees sting you in your mouth the feathers tickle you so you cough and gasp for breath and when breathing in two bees go down your throat and sting you all the way down to the gut and have sex and have baby bees (wasps) that hatch in your bottom and when you trump wasps fly out and sting you again. Smelly stings.

Other than that there is not a great deal to report. I have still got all my fingers - I haven't checked my toes but I have no reason to believe there is an issue there.

I think I have invented something but I do not want to get excited yet as the patent is still pending. If you promise not to steal my idea then I can share it with you. Basically it's a never ending cherry. You pop it into your mouth - left handed preferably - and when you spit the stone out it's a full cherry. It works due to a series of ropes and pulleys that actually extracts the cherry from your throat and replaces it onto the stone, it happens faster than the brain can comprehend thereby giving the illusion of a perpetual cherry. I got the idea after watching people with eating disorders. I simply replaced food with my cherry and removed the need to stick the finger down the throat with the ropes and pulleys. It could save Africa.

The other day I saw 4 men. Four of them!!!!! They were not together. I was shocked. I hadn't eaten an egg - so that may be a factor. I just don't know.

I intend to bathe soon - I love to bathe, especially in water. During the shortage of 2003 I bathed without water but it was rubbish. I stuck to the bath and hurt my hips when I tried to roll over. That said the time I saved not drying added up to nearly 6 days in all so I did a jigsaw and watched more episodes of Poirot than I would normally have time for. I guess it's swings and roundabouts. And a slide.

Speaking of slides, when I was little my sister dared me to go down the slide backwards. I misunderstood and climbed up the chute and slid down the steps. It hurt. The doctor said my backbone had moved up past my neck and my shoulders were above my head for three weeks!!! It made getting to those annoying itches easier but I got in trouble at school for an attitude problem - I looked like I was constantly shrugging!!!!

Happy days.

Well this was just a quick hello - don't nick my cherry idea.

goodnight ya pissers

PD

To Helen back (Helen Daniels and back)

2006-03-03T05:04:00.000-08:00

Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours
with a little understanding,
you can - I'm Anne Haddy.

Greetings ladies and gentlemen, I am the well spoken character actress Anne Haddy - dead now of course. Patrick Duffy has allowed me to communicate with you from beyond the grave via his excellent blog. So much to discuss and so little time, if I don't manage to cover something you were interested in then coments to this post will be answered by me directly....still from beyond the grave obviously.

I am Anne Haddy. I was born Anne Chutney Haddy in 1901, when Australia was still an annex of New Zealand which in those days of course faced the other way. I dropped the Chutney (so to speak) when I went to stage school. The school was called 'ladies, ladies, ladies ACT' and the Headmistress, miss Ing-inaction, said "Haddy, you've got it. You are like a young Alice Bap with the voice of Ethel Insanity but for fuck's sake lose the Chutney. What are you - some sort of simple girl?" So the Chutney went and Anne Haddy went on to stardom.

But enough about the early days - you people are all the same, all you want is gossip and innuendo from the Ramsay street days. The geeks will be interested in my Star Trek appearances too and the idiots (who think they are cool) will pretend to understand my street art. You don't. It's like all art forms, you have no fucking idea but want other people to think that you do so you read a few books and act like a twat. I'm sorry that is wrong of me...but my street art is so important to me and nobody understands...except that guy with an eye patch that I met in the Bungle Bungles.

I'm Anne Haddy. I promised to keep this brief so straight to neighbours.

In 1990 I had a great idea for a new daytime soap opera - or as we call them in Australia Tummy Slappers - I pitched it to the Australian Broadcasting Corporation and they loved it. The idea of setting a whole series around the families of one very small cul-de-sac (or stinkers as we call them) was hot. It would be called 'neighbours'. After 2 months and 6 meetings it was agreed to green light the project and start on production. All was fine until some little work experience fucker called Ian Panther told the network that the idea had already been acted upon and that Neighbours had been on air for 5 years and that I was in it. In hindsight that would explain why I saw the storylines so vividly in my head.

I am Anne Haddy. Neighbours was a success and I was rich enough to buy Derby County Football Club from my son Robert Maxwell who I always disliked. He was the product of a one night stand (in Australia we call them hose pipes - as sometimes they are the only thing that can put out a fanny fire) with a Lebonese soldier called Petshop Jones. Colonel Petshop Jones. I never cared for the football much but I did enjoy chanting abuse at the match officials. Especially if they looked foreign or a bit gay.

I digress. You want the dirt. You want the neighbours dirt.

I will have time to discuss two particularly curious topics but there are three to choose from. You will have to make up the details of the third.

The three I have to choose from are: The time Jim Robinson kicked an Aborigine fan of the show so hard that he died and all of the cast helped dispose of the body and cover up the murder. The time when Plane Jane Superbrain laughed so hard that she shat...on Mike...twice...and he liked it. Or the time when Harold Bishop took crack cocaine and told Lou Carpenter to get lost.

I'll start with Harold. I'm Anne Haddy but he is Harold Bishop. He has been played, ironically, by a religious man called Bishop Harold for 17 years. He has long been considered a nice guy. This is because he plays the tuba and is fat. Off screen Bishop Harold is no tuba player...but he is fat. Anyway the time he smoked the crack pipe is what you are interested in. He did it for charity though so don't judge him too harshly. To cut a long story short Harold Bishop smoked a crack pipe for charity and told Lou Carpenter to get lost.

It was incredible. More detail would prove that. But...y'know.

Now the second back stage story I can give you is slightly more worrying, an incident that I can guarantee you the whole cast of neighbours wishes had never happened. No it's not when the original Bouncer inpregnated Mrs. Mangel, it's worse than that.

In 1992 a young competition winner called Stanley 'Stanley' Fivepennies was brought on to the set to watch an episode of neighbours being made. He had won the competition in 1989 but had to wait until Clive Gibbons had left before claiming his prize as, being Aborigine, he had a deep rooted fear of ginger people. The day was going fine. Stanley had been allowed to touch the breasts of Christina Alessi and had received a 'seaty' on the back of Toby Mangel's chopper. Unfortunately Jim Robinson (played by legendary Australian actor Merv Hughes) had been drinking most of the day and took offence at the presence of Stanley on 'his set'. I remember the next 5 minutes vividly - as I am Anne Haddy I will recount the period in the style of a script. Although most stage directions will be removed as I am only Anne Haddy...not Chemical Ali or Herol 'Bomber' Graham.

Jim: What the fuck is Bobby Black Boy doing on my fucking set?

Paul: Calm down Jim Robinson, he's a good lad, just leave it be eh?

Jim: Oh here we go, Paul Robinson having a go is he? What a fucking surprise.

Stanley: Should I just leave, I don't want to upset Mr. Robinson.

Paul: No kid, you stay - it's Jim who will leave.

At this point Jim either hit or kissed Paul - I'm Anne Haddy.

Lou: tay tay tay tay ta ta ta ta tay tay, take or leave us only please believe us...whoa whoa what's all this? Jim why is Paul lying on the floor? Have you been hitting him? Or kissing him?

Jim: Fuck off Lou you barrel chested cock sucker. You look like a bear, a shaved bear encouraged to run around but who runs around in a rubbish manner.

Lou: Sorry Jim, I'll just leave.

Lou's notorious lack of a back bone was the basis for the movie 'Stuart Little'

Stanley: Mr. Robinson? Why are you looking at me like that?

Two cast members - Melanie and Todd actually saw what happened next, I only heard it. Jim ran towards Stanley and did a flying kick into his chest. Todd said that his foot went straight into him and he fell to the floor on his back with Jim wearing him like a canoe. A canoe shoe. He said Jim couldn't get his foot out of Stanleys caved in chest and after a few seconds of trying had to abandon his shoe. As I said I only heard it. I still hear it. At night. Alone. I'm Anne Haddy and I hear it at night when I am alone. After Stanley finished talking I heard a flurry of abuse and heavy quick paced footsteps, I remember the words shunter and gravy and the line 'come and meet mr pain' then it was a cracking noise (I presume the ribs caving in) followed by the squelch of internal organs meeting a shoe. Then it was Jim grumbling about being 'fucking stuck in darkie' and asking for help 'getting this fucking abbo of me hush puppies'. The sound part went PAH-SHTUMPFFFF-KI, KI, KI, LLYWCH- GURGLE-ZOID. I'll never get over that.

We knew that this story could ruin neighbours - the tabloids (we call them scabloids) would have a field day. We had to cover it up. We hid the body under a picnic table outside the watering hole and I cleaned Jim's feet - let me tell you, it was more than coincidence that I played Mary Magdelene to Jim Robinson's Jesus. The police obviously came round and asked questions - I Anne Haddy told them that I'd seen him wandering on the railway tracks near some quicksand when a rip-tide came in and sharks were in season. It was also far too hot to be left in a car with bad spiders and dingo's all over the place. The French were testing nuclear weapons and we were all convicts anyway so stop asking questions!!!!!!

Jim Robinson never said sorry. I love him. From beyond the grave. I am the air that escapes in the moment before he climaxes. His cheesy Anne Haddy air.

Well I've overstayed my welcome and Patrick Duffy asked me not to get all weird on him - which I think I have. The Star Trek and street art will have to wait.

Live long and prosper homies. And next time Jim Robinson is about to spray your face remember I will be there in the moment before the splash!!!

Anne Haddy
From beyond the grave.

Shhhh Secret Squirrel

2006-02-15T03:50:00.000-08:00

Ooh - now we have a secret. The more observant and regular readers (if there are any) will have noticed that for the first time I have removed a post. No drama or anything but I decided that it was not appropriate.

Hahaha - now anybody who didn't see it or is new here will read the rest of my posts and wonder what on earth could be so bad it gets pulled after broadcast!!!!

"He hates everything and everybody, he's so rude and his language is shocking - I just can't begin to imagine what he said that was so bad he got scared and deleted it like the little girl that he is."

Shut up - how dare you speak to me like that. Don't you know who I am? I'm Patrick -yeah that's right, you heard me - Duffy.

So anyway - to appease your blood lust I have lined up a fantastic guest writer to post next week or earlier or later. If you like space you will love Anne Haddy, she played Helen Daniels in Neighbours but will always be remembered as the actress who played William Shatner in Star Trek. She's got a lot to say and she'll say it here. Highlights include her time touring with U2 on the Zooropa tour, her time in jail and the awards she has won for her street art.

So keep it real you crowd of onions, I'm allowed to remove posts if I want to and I'm allowed to book Anne Haddy to guest write if I want to. But why you gotta play that song so loud? Because we want to! Because we want to! Why you always run around in crowds? Because we want to! Because we want to! Why d'you always have to dance all night? Because we want to! Because we want to! Why d'you always say what's on your mind?Because we want to! Because we want to! I've been missing you I should be kissing you Honey to the bee that's you for me, I wouldn't tell a lie got a love I can't deny, Honey to the bee that's you for me, Honey to the bee that's you for me, Honey to the beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee - I am Soulwax mixing different songs together to produce an outrageous funk slamming backbeat down your twitching luggers!!!! I mixed the rebellious Billie Piper with the more relaxed and mature Billie Piper to produce a sound sensation massaging your insides like warm milk flowing over a wedge of cheese on a child's slide. Don't think, just cum.

I'm gonna be the soap opera soulwax and put Gail Tilsley in The Eastenders.

Gail - Ay up chuck I look like ET and have had more men than a woman looking like me would reasonably expect to have had. I've got bad hair and a poor persons clothes. Oh and i'm in The Eastenders. Yes this here is the Queen Vic pub where so many important things have happened.

Pete Beal - What? Don't look at me. I'm not in it errymore. People gwoo tired of my weirrrd pwununciations of easy words.

Kat Slater - Ere hahahahahahahahaha look at me gash hanging out under me short skirt. I love you Alfie. I hate you Alfie, No I love you Alfie. Ere are you Gail from that northern fing?

Gail - Yes. And my serial killing husband Richard Hillman is here too. He would like a bitter lemon.

Kat Slater - Pat's not here at the moment hahahahahahaha - bitter lemon, gerrit.

Gail - I've got this gun and all...

(fade to black and white as Gail starts firing a sub machine gun, in slow motion we see her shooting everybody in the pub dead, tossing back her bad hair and shaking her head as the carnage increases. Everybody dies. Gail turns the gun on herself pumping 20 bullets into her own stomach. She slumps to the floor and dies. And shits).

I am the soap opera soulwax!!!!!!

That's it - I'm outta here, taking a very short break to allow Star Trek's Anne Haddy to scrawl her shit up (she assures me that on the street that is a cool way of talking).

Go on - off you go. Fools.

Duffies desires

2006-02-13T06:40:00.000-08:00

I, Patrick Duffy, know a lot of very nice women. Some family, some friends, some colleagues and some lucky lovers. Here are some of the nicest ladies - like Barbara Bel Geddes who played Miss Ellie in Dallas, or like Victoria Principal who played Pam Ewing in Dallas, or like Priscilla Presley who played Jenna Wade in Dallas, or like Charlene Tilton who played Lucy Ewing in Dallas, or like Linda Gray who played Sue Ellen in Dallas, or like Suzanne Somers who played my wife Carol in Step by Step.

Those women - and others - are nice.

Super Tommy and his one weird tit.

2006-01-20T03:16:00.000-08:00

Hi all,

Thought I'd give you a bit of Ralph written some while ago. Ralph is the central character in the book I intend to write this year. Chris - I think you have read this already, but anybody else out there I would be interested to know if I have 'crossed the line'. I hear a lot about this line. Apparently it is invisible. No wonder I can't see it then.

Anyway Ralph is at a dinner party as a guest of his friend Gemma, he doesn't really know anybody else but has been doing very well socialising except that one guy is giving him a hard time. The whole book is written from Ralph's viewpoint. Not worried about grammar or spelling at this time.

‘Come on then genius, come up with puns for these stories’… Geoff was such a fucking arsehole. He was smirking all the fucking time and looked like one of those people who genuinely believe that they are better than everybody else. He had not been at all impressed with my dinner conversations and appeared angry that people had been laughing at me. I assumed that he was normally the ‘funny one’ at dinner parties. He asked for quiet…who does that? Asking for fucking quiet at a party…what a tit. ‘Now come on people’ he bellowed ‘Ralphy boy wants us all to hear his quips, don’t you Ralphy boy!’
‘No Geoff, you want everyone to hear my quips, and stop saying Ralphy boy, dick.’ Geoff’s loudness followed by my reserved response had had the affect that Geoff wanted, the table had fallen quiet and all eyes were on either him or me. My face got hot, that kind of heat that makes your ears go all funny and you imagine yourself with the reddest face ever. Geoff checked his audience and shouted ‘Ralphy boy… sorry…Ralph here has quite a gift for making people laugh isn’t that right Ralphy?’
‘You’re a dick’ I muttered.
'He wants the whole world to hear how funny he is don’t you Ralphy?’
‘Total dick’
‘Well I’m going to start a story and we’ll see how long it is before Ralphy boy comes up with a gag about it’ Geoff was almost snotting with excitement, I wanted to quip that, I really wanted to quip that– that Geoff was fucking snotting himself with his own pompous dickness.

‘In 1992’ began Geoff ‘I was out fishing with my father…’ I really didn’t know Geoff but my god how I hated him. I hated him and wanted to beat him at whatever ludicrous game he was making me play. I noticed that people had suddenly looked down at their plates or began fidgeting with their napkins as soon as Geoff had said ‘father’ and the vaguest of vague memories within me awoke. Gemma had once told me about a friend of a friend of hers who’s dad had died whilst out fishing with him, it was a tragic story about a young boy that had to deal with an horrendous situation. This had to be it, the friend of a friend, the tension and worry in everybody’s faces, Geoff was telling me about the time he was left in a boat with his dead father hoping I’ll make a flippant comment and he can prove just how heartless and cruel this wanker Ralph is. What a cunt, I nearly had cracked a couple of gags – fishing is so easy, loads of gags there. Geoff was looking right at me as he continued his story ‘ so it was a beautiful afternoon and me and dad had never felt closer’… ‘small boat was it’ I thought, no Ralph don’t do it. Something in his arrogant glowing face made me want to do it though, made me have to do it.
‘Can I strop you there Geoff’ I asked,
‘oh here we go’ replied Geoff ‘what hilarious observation would you like to make Ralphy boy’? He was delighted, any minute now he would get to inform me that I had just made a gag about the time his dad had died and this would make him lifes winner and me the big sweating loser.

‘I only wanted to stop you there as it sounds just like a story I once heard about an obnoxious little twat who’s dad actually dies whilst out fishing with him, leaving him all alone in a small boat with just his dead dad.’ The room was quiet, so quiet. ‘And this little twat doesn’t have a clue what to do – small boat, dead dad etc. so he panics and does what he’s done hundreds of times before and has a fucking wank. He actually flops his cock out and starts whacking it off there and then all over his dead dad. He’s crying and wanking, wanking and crying until he blows his load all up his dead dads back. He even wiped the end of his knob on his dead dads jumper all the time crying his little eyes out’

Now I’ve seen shocked faces before but the scene before me was a perfect snap shot of outrage. Total fucking outrage! ‘You want quips you fucking arsehole? How about the fact that you’ve been angling for this argument all night or that I nearly fell for your trick hook, line and fucking dead dad. You stupid, arrogant fuck.’ I sat down. I don’t even know at what point I’d stood up but evidently I had. I was not popular.

So invisible line or not I know it is a bit naughty but I genuinely don't know if it is funny. The rest of the book (in my head) is not like that, although there is a scene in which Ralph accidentally pisses on a woman he doesn't know because he gets a semi.
Constructive comments appreciated. But remember I am a sensitive boy.

Never finger a brownie...

2006-01-19T08:18:00.000-08:00

So kiddy fiddlers shouldn't get jobs in schools eh? Seems reasonable - like bank robbers working in Barclays or women voting - it just shouldn't happen. Why put yourself in the midst of all that temptation - though why anybody would feel anything other than utter hatred of anybody over the age of 5 and under the age of 21 is beyond me. Okay some kids are sweet and entertain grown ups at Christmas but lets concentrate on say 12 - 21 or the cunt years as I call them.

The lads - 15 year old boys, look a mess, listen to nonsense and spit on the pavement. And yet 'the man' says it is wrong for me to put scissors up their noses and snip the middle bit out. Apparently I'm not allowed to stamp on their throats until they can only gurgle blood nor am I justified in tying their hair to the back of a bus and just running after them as they are dragged along the streets, me laughing and trying to film it on my phone. Unbelievable how this country seems to favour the criminal (youths) and punish the victim (me).

The girls - usually really ugly and often unpleasantly fat. I mean I'm no skinny McGhee but at least I have the decency to try and hide it. I don't wear tops that show off my prematurely sagging fat baps and allow a 7 inch overhang of puckered flesh to wobble in front of my fanny! And they are pierced everywhere and they don't speak English - I'm not talking about the funny as death Catherine Tait character 'lookin bovvered' I mean...

Girl A - "swennyway me n Marshy gan dan flen tree fa, y'na, a birra dafuck ashun in grey owdurs an sunnly asspot some rye fuggin pervo shayin iscock.

Girl B - "Na way, shayin iscock? wah, ryrin funneryou? Zeer blagg eye? man Marshy zwelfit tho inny. Zbaat him muscles innit."

And for me to slice these fucking horrible stains up with a flymo is 'wrong' or 'extreme'. Well just remember that most of them fucking stink and they are almost certain to bring more stains into this world unless somebody sorts them out. Innit!!!!!!! So what if I skin them and roll them down three hills?

Occasionally I like people - almost 20 at the last count. But to be fair most people are vomit. Why can't people be born, be cute until 5, put in a box, come out at 21, get a job, agree with me and be nice. And if a female let me touch (or even just see) her goodies once in a while that can only help.

And to think I used to be a vicar. The above comments were taken directly from the notes I made for my first service. I always thought they asked me to leave because of the incident with the font but now I think it may be becasue I said bad things. Also the Devil rocks!!!!!

Time to sign off and leave you to your incest and weird shit!!!

PD - out.

Title added for good reason

2006-01-18T05:02:00.000-08:00

Hello everybody - Firstly let me reassure you that I am Patrick Duffy and this will be my post. I am grateful to Dustin for stepping in (see below) but that guy has issues. He is not due back as a guest for a couple of months so hopefully he'll calm down a bit in the meantime. I have been using my celebrity contacts to line up more guest posters for you so watch this space...I don't want to give anything away but if I said to you the late Rod Hull then I've probably said too much - but I am hoping to persuade the late Rod Hull to guest write next week.

But for now you will have to make do with me, Bimmo!! No it just doesn't work for me...

Anyway the rain has annoyed me today. If I was a stand up comedian of little or no talent - 93% of the current crop then - I would say 'it's that fine rain that soaks you through' in a northern accent. Incidentally I was oppressed last night when E4 did not broadcast my text message to Big Brothers Big Mouth - Junior Simpson (the 5th worst comedian ever) was on it. Amazingly he spun such wonderfully amusing stories about Aunties at weddings and teachers on school trips I almost came in my face with laughing delight. The caption while he was talking said Junior Simpson: funnyman. I sent in a reasonable text that said 'Dear BBBM your caption said Junior Simpson: funnyman hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha' and they didn't put it on the screen. Nazis.

Back to the rain (sounds like an album title, probably by a new romantic band, possibly called 'The Smithsonian aardvark') this is going all Ronnie Corbett with me skirting the issue!!! The rain - right, I know it's important for reservoirs, plants, human life etc. but what a bastard. I mean seriously what a bastard. I got wet this morning. What a bastard. Very occasionally I enjoy the rain - getting soaked on your way home to a warm house with a person who lets you do sex stuff to them can be funny, romantic, whatever. But on your way to work - in the morning, who's the winner there? Not me. Not the wet me. Can't it rain really heavily just for half an hour every day between 4 and 4.30 am? What's unreasonable about that. Only milkmen, criminals, and the emergency services are outside at that time and they all have hats as part of their uniform.

Puddles are okay - they play fair. But those paving stones that dip when you stand on them and send a jet of dirty water up your leg...they are right fucking knobbers. When it happens to me I say 'what gives?' and look angrily at the paving stone.

I like saying 'what gives' it makes me feel like the big man.

Oh fuck a doodle cunt cunt. I've just thought about when it's raining and it's windy and the rain comes at you side on. What a shit. That is the fucking shit. Especially if the wind is coming staright at you giving you what I call the bastard man of Tonga trio - namely wind in face making you walk extra slow, wind in face making it painful to open your eyes and rain in face getting your face wet, Your face for gods sake, what are we? Animals? Fucking Animals? With rain in our faces!!!!!

That said I am not fan of the very hot day. Y'know - the real hot ones, the blazers, the bitch heaters of Aldi. I sweat. And that's no fun. On real hot days I sweat so much that I worry about people seeing the dry patch!!!!!! I sweat mostly from my head and that is not easy to hide - or apply right guard to.

I see that I am basically just going on about weather and none of us are enjoying it so I'll summerise.

Rain - bastard
Wind - annoying but sometimes fun
Rain and wind - ooh ya bastard
sun - lovely
very hot days - my poor sweaty head, bastard
snow - now you're talking
hail - what the fuck? what's the point of this? It's not funny and hurts a bit.

Oh what can I say?....sorry? I'll call Dustin Diamond...Blumpo!!!!! See I just ain't got it.

Wide shed revisited

2006-01-17T04:01:00.000-08:00

Hello, I am guest blogger Dustin Diamond - you may remember me as Screech in 'saved by the bell'. Probably the greatest television show of all time. I played Samuel Powers, Screech to my friends, and was the only white member of the cast to sport an affro.

I was offered the part of Screech by my then boyfriend Dennis Haskins who played Principal Belding in the show. You can see the chemistry between us in series one and two. The relationship survived through the next three years but was a passionless shell of it's former rutting glory. It is ironic that when I returned as a teaching assistant in the series 'saved by the bell: the new class' and therefore spent a lot of time with Belding - our off screen relationship had died. We were still friends then though and to this day we exchange cards at Thanksgiving and on other American days.

When the acting dried up I took a year out (in prison) and found our Lord Jesus Christ. JC taught me more in that time than two years of Kindergarden, 7 years of private tuition at drama school and three nights of cramming with Mark-Paul Gosselaar - you know him as Zack Morris. I now earn a living driving around this great country of ours selling subscriptions to a magazine I co-founded with Lark Voorhies (that's right, SBTB's very own Lisa Turtle).

The magazine is called JCB - y'know like the diggers - and stands for Jesus Christ, Blammo. It's in yer face religion for this crazy modern world. The way I see it is this...you get up at what? 7am and you drag your sorry butt downstairs to the refrigerator. You open the door and you see chicken wings, boxes of Chinese food, cola, cherry cola and diet cherry cola. Well I jump out of bed, I glide down those stairs and I see Jesus Christ in my refrigerator and he's telling me everything is good. Blammo - JC in the house (in the fridge). He doesn't have to be in your fridge, he can be anywhere. We have one subscriber who wrote us to say that he rented Problem Child on video 6 months back and watched it sat at home on his own. At the end of the movie he ejected the video and Blammo!!!! JC came out. Turned out he'd been in there for over a week just waiting for a film to bring him out. Lark (TV's Lisa Turtle still) knows a woman who for years wondered why the lid wouldn't sit straight on her cookie jar - Blammo it was JC.

In the latest feature in JCB we have introduced a spot the son of God competition. A view of an ordinary scene taken by one of our readers and you gotta see if you feel the power of the Lord. Blammo - the laundry hamper, Blammo - the waste disposal unit. Blammo, Blammo, Blammo. Gee I love this job, I love the Lord and I love all believers.

When I was raped on the set of Saved By The Bell by my two co-nerds that formed the Bayside High chess club I thought that human life sucked. Now, thanks to Jesus Christ our Saviour I can see that all life is precious especially unborn babies that need protecting from their murdering whore mothers wishes to kill them.

Sorry, I'm easily side-tracked when JC takes over. When I'm driving my car I sometimes ram other cars unless they have a fish sign on them. Often I have managed to sell JCB subscriptions to the injured or dying at the roadside following a crash caused by me. That is the power of the Lord. One day God Himself came to me in a vision and told me that he was very proud of his son - our Lord Jesus Christ, but that he was equally proud of me. He felt that JC and Screech working together could save this world from the hatred, the oppression, the Commie Pinko bastards and the Chinks. That is my mission. Blammo - he's in my heart. Let him in to yours too.

Patrick Duffy will be back for the next blog - Dustin Diamond signing out, with love in my heart and hope in my world.

please note Patrick Duffy does not wish to be associated with these comments unless they are good.

Hark at her...

2006-01-12T07:32:00.000-08:00

...No, Hark at me!!!!!!!! Look at all my comments from automatically sent bike enthusiasts. It's my blog, spammed, who'd have thunk it. I may try chatting to them...these machines I mean. That joke about a bike working for the bbc called Greg Bike is clearly the work of a proud man...or woman.

Dear faceless cunt who has acquired a programme to search for keywords and then automatically posts a bunch of gravy fuck when it finds a match, please stop posting on my blog you are fucking my noodle right in. I am rightly very proud of the fact that I write this knowing nobody is reading it and then I see a post has received 4 comments and think...Huh maybe Britain IS ready for me. A twinkling of secret excitement grows large in my gut and i click on the comments link to see who is out there.

A fucking geeky spod merchant is out there that's who and not geeky in a good way like Jarvis Cocker or The Baptist but in a retarded way with the snot on the sleeve and plaster over half of their glasses. The kind of person who has definitely at least once been tidying their room when they found an old pot noodle carton under their bed with two tissues in it and the tissues are full of cum and they think 'oh yeah I remember that night. I had a pot noodle in bed (often chicken and mushroom) and two wanks. The first one was a long and painful effort over Carol Vorderman on Countdown - so hard to achieve climax without a shot of nipple. The second one was the one that scared the geek for a long time cos it was during an episode of The Bill when he got all horny over a transvestite arsonist who burned down animal shelters in high heels. A final shot of the tranny been led away by the police with make-up smeared all over their face and saying "you bastards, it's cos I'm different. I can't go inside I'll be treated like an animal" that often pops into the geeks head during knob play. DIY knob play obviously - no self respecting human would go near that stench pipe or the vile Primula that oozes out the weepy end. One time it looked like Primula with chives but that was during an ill week, a week when sick came out of his bottom.

Anyway, I look forward to being invited to read a bike blog very soon and have my fingers crossed for more genius jokes like the Greg Bike one. I've come up with some of my own hahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

What do you call a man with a bike on his head? Stan - as in bike STANd.
What job does a bike have after two punctures? None - it's re-tyred!!!!!
What is a Bikes favourite film? Some Bike it hot.
What group do Bikes listen to? Bike and the mechanics.
What is a Bikes favourite book? The HitchBIKErs guide to the Galaxy.
Who is a Bikes favourite actor? Dick Van Bike.

That's it from me. Get on with your own lives and stop scratching it - you'll only make it worse.

PD
X

If you build it, they will come.

2006-01-04T04:22:00.000-08:00

Well Happy New Year to you many hundreds of avid readers of this here blog.

2006 is rubbish.

It's just like last year which was rubbish.

We can't all get drunk!!!!!

2005-12-22T04:21:00.000-08:00

Hi all. These posts are becoming almost regular - some might say too regular and to those people I say "yeah...alright...Jeez...let it go"

Anyway - Good day to you all. I am in a cheery mood today. It's nearly Christmas and unbelievably my tube journey this morning passed without incident. I don't know if it's even worth writing when I am not angry - it is so much harder to think of anything to say! I guess this mood won't last though - I have to do some Christmas shopping after work which means hot shops, crowds of idiots and plastic bags whose handles are made from razor wire.

Here we go...

I like buying presents for people but shopping when it's busy does my coconut right in. People at this time of year all develop the manners of foreigners and the foreigners all turn into route blockers and door chatters. Do not stop suddenly on the pavement for no fucking reason when I am walking at the same speed you were about a yard behind you. I end up walking into your dumb body and it's me who says sorry cos I am stupid like that. And when you have finished in one shop move on to the next - do not get to the door and then decide to contemplate your fucking state of mind by staring into space or repeatedly looking into one of your bags. Get out my freakin way you backward stain.

I hate queuing as well. I never get a basket (except when food shopping) so end up with armfuls of stuff balanced procariously on the largest item - like monopoly or simpsons monopoly or monopoly the Chester edition or Ghettopoloy or rolypoly. The last one I made up but it should be a game - all the pieces could be one of the beautiful roly poly girls that were relatively famous in the early 80's for being fat and almost able to can-can. When you finally get to the counter the oik starts scanning your stuff and the really annoying ones comment on everything. You might have dvd's and cd's and they be all "not seen this", "is it good, this"? "got this when it first came out, gone off it now" I sometimes comment back on them. "You scanned that like a shitty dog" "You put that in the bag very poorly, as if you've recently lost a favourite glove" "you look like an egg with hair, each of your spots has more charcter than you and that problem you have with getting an erection everytime Basil Brush starts is because you like little kids in a nasty way and the presence of an aristocratic fox puppet makes your crime juices tingle".

Buy it all online I say. You can save money, time and can look at boobies while the transaction is processed. Now that is development. Ho hum. Presents to wrap, cards to write and songs to sing.

Have fun out there you Keegans.

Keep on loving.

PD

Festive mouse and his harmonica of doubt

2005-12-20T03:38:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

Here is the definitive guide to surviving Christmas - see they don't just appear in Sunday supplements and small books that are on sale next to the tills in wanky stores. Oh fuck that Christmas doesn't need surviving it needs enjoying - it's a couple of days of food, booze, sweets and other stuff. It is also the only time single blokes don't wank...I can't explain why but it's just not done. It may be some quasi religious thing or the fact that you are at your Aunt's house or the fact that the Porridge Christmas special doesn't have any tits in it. Except Christopher Biggins.

So don't survive Christmas - Enjoy it.

Here is how.

7.15am wake up with fuzzy hangover - not a skull cracker but a layer of fur that gives the same amount of confusion as three Italian children slapping a lamp. Go to the toilet and have a Christmas wee. This is just a normal wee but as it is Christmas it gets called a Christmas wee (just the first one - all subsequent wees are just wees). Go back to bed - this is very important, you are not a small child and should not get all the way out of bed for another hour or two.

9.00am - leap out of bed with excitement. Christams excitement. (unlike Christmas wees - all excitement on Christmas day is Christmas excitement). DO NOT GET DRESSED. Only pyjamas or pants and a dressing gown will do. Go downstairs and check that Santa has been. The sherry should be gone, the carrot nibbled and you should have presents. These are the clues. You and whoever else is in the house should now slowly begin opening presents - open them in value order starting with the tat. If you can't tell the value order just by looking then use the labels to help you, the weird guy at work has bought you tat, your best friend has gone for a mid priced gift, your parents or significant other have overspent...save these gifts. At this stage feel free to fling all the wrapping etc all over the place - that will be dealt with later. Remember to ooh and aah at all the gifts - just in case the giver of teh gift is hiding behind the couch.

9.12am - put all the presents together in a neat pile and get a binbag for all the wrapping. Before throwing it all away check that any females in the room do not want to save any of the ribbon, bows or other decorative shite. Throwing this away if somebody wanted it can lead to a minor row at this stage. They will not accept it if it needs to be retrieved from the binbag - apparently this 'ruins everything'.

9.30am - have a cup of tea and a big breakfast. Sausage, bacon etc. vegetarians can have muesli.

10.45am - have a drink - possibly a beer or I recommend a Baileys.

11.00am - have a shower. Do use any toiletries that have been received today, if the giver of said product is in the house don't forget to comment on how much better than previous stuff this shower gel is. Note - if any giver of previous shower gel is within ear shot say this quietly.

12.00 - check that a responsible person has started the dinner - you want to be eating by 3 but do not want to cook.

12.05 - step up a gear with the boozing. When the time comes to go to the dinner table you should float there and possibly sit down a bit too hard and knock over a wine glass. To achieve this you need to be 'on the way' so have a beer now.

1.15pm - watch a special. This time of day can throw up anything - a Blue Peter panto, an animated film about a toaster that is given the gift of sight by Jesus, an animated film about a mouse that thinks he's a cat etc. Alternatively find a religious sermon and chuckle at the jumpers sitting on hard seats listening to utter nonsense whilst you sit on a sofa and open your third beer.

2.00pm - Start watching a film that you can't watch the end of as you will be going to dinner in an hour. This will probably be Back to the future or Star Wars.

3.00pm - Get called for dinner and eagerly dash to the table - you are starving!!!! Let the other people at the table know that you are missing the end of your film for this so it better be good.

4.00pm - Leave the table and half heartedly offer to help with the washing up. Leave the area before an answer to your offer can be given. Now you should have got through a lot of wine during dinner and you should be half cut by now so go and have a sleep infront of the box. Ideally The Snowman will be on - do get to sleep before the melting scene though, nobody wants to see you cry.

4.45pm - wake up and have a drink. People are now aware that you are a lazy piss head so offer to make everybody a cup of tea. 10 minutes work here and your generosity will be remembered more than the dinner itself and the loser that did the dishes!!!

6.15pm - Take another nap at this point. The good stuff starts at 7 and you want to watch as much as possible.

7.00pm - Watch Mouse Hunt. Keep drinking.

9.00pm - Watch Midsommer Murders Christmas special. Keep drinking.

11.00pm - Eat an entire selection box and start on the nuts. The ones you crack yourself.

11.55pm - Slap a woman and go to bed. Boxing day is a tough one and you need your strength.

There we go - simple. Happy Christmas.

No sleep 'til the Chinese say so.

2005-12-19T04:57:00.000-08:00

Well I've had my first Christmas dinner of the season and dang nice it was too. I have the classic sprout farts issue today of course but it is a small price to pay for one hell of a great meal. Those around me who also have to endure the stench without the benefit of having enjoyed the meal can take solace in the fact that I am happy. Oh yeah and fuck them if that isn't enough....frickin flesh pipe smokers.

With about quarter of my dinner still left I reached that point when breathing becomes difficult and swallowing almost impossible. I carried on and ate through this minor blip. Five minutes after I'd finished I knew it was all too much and that I just wanted to sleep where I sat and that my plate could be my pillow (with three party hats as a blanket). But no - must make it to sofa...I took my plate in to the kitchen and saw the last bit of turkey and a sausage wrapped in bacon on a plate - I ate both. I think it is only christmas time that allows this grotesque gluttony to occur. It's the same with booze. I remember one christmas when I was 18 or 19 that I drank a pint of lager in the bathroom between vomitting sessions. Each time I was sick I drank some beer to "get rid of the taste" then I'd be sick again. If I'd had more beer then this could have continued into Boxing day!!!! It would not have continued into the 27th though - that would be wrong.

I don't own a set of pyjamas. I do not know whether I should. I will think about this.

A man on the tube this morning was talking to a woman and said if he had his way all work would stop for a week at Christmas so that everybody could celebrate together. What a fuckin genius. I should have scratched his eyes out with my nails for that. "Sorry Mrs. Parp but we can not save your son as the hospital is closed for Christmas" "We regret to inform everybody but travel is not possible this week as every cunt in Britain is on holiday so if you break down you will die, if you are on a train it will not move and if you are flying...assume the brace position" "No presents daddy? Sorry Melvin the third but all the shops have been closed for a week cos of some utter shit boy on the fucking underground." I really should have gently pulled his head back until his throat split and I could put my hand in and punch his Adams apple directly. I'd make small incisions into his vocal cords so that next time he spoke they would snap and he would be left silently screaming and pointing at his throat while those around him smiled politely and thought 'at last, that bloke is getting what he deserves'.

That said more holiday would be nice...maybe he has a point.

That's it from me. Hope everybody is well and if you are reading this then think about why, are you so depraved you want to follow one man's descent into lonely mad oblivion.

Bastards.

If there were a god he'd make snot taste nice!!!

2005-12-13T07:38:00.000-08:00

So ill.

When my eyes work all I can see is tissues full of body stuff and bits. I hate being ill - I guess most people do. Having a cold is rubbish though - it isn't bad enough to get any sympathy like your cancers or aids (no charities set up for me or anything) but it is bad enough to be a right pain in the cunny. What sick and twisted mind came up with colds? You lie down and you can't breath, you sit up and you drip. Blowing noses - so loud and annoying. I can't do it quietly alright? so stop looking at me and if you tut one more time I'll rip your arms off and slap your brother with them.

Also - you know that voice you get when you have a cold - so you sound like a latvian station announcer. Or Trevor Francis. Well that voice is a pain in the arse too. You answer the phone after struggling out of bed, sweating like 6 bitches and feeling totally shite and the person at teh other end says "ooh you don't sound like you" Right here's the deal - say that to me when I've got a cold and I'll start to talk real quietly - you'll press your ear to the receiver to strain to hear me and I'll unleash hell through your listening tube. I'm gonna have a megaphone attached to another megaphone next to a fog horn plugged into an amplifier with the microphone being next to a jet engine. Your brain will wibble out of your other ear in a panic of sound and you will be left like a Geordie. But if I ever ring you when you have a cold then I am allowed to say that your voice sounds funny - firm but fair me. Firm but fair.

You know how people say firm but fair? Well it surprises me that gay people don't set up a firm butt fair - the title alone will encourage a good crowd of "spinning aunties" to turn up. And the gays love a party. I should know.

Carol Vorderman? Seriously - what's that all about. Flirting with the housewives choice Des Lynam while twice nightly Whitely's dribble is still warm. Is there a noun for a welsh woman who is considered by odd people as attractive but can't get any and thrives on older cock? Just a random thought and not linked to the Vorders in any way. Can I have a P please Bob? Or an E. Oh blockbusters where are you? Don't come back or anything - it won't work. Lisa Tarbuck or not you were time and place tv. Ugly dumbass students with teddy bears and issues. The gold run sounded like runny shits and the crowd were probably all getting off with each other or burping the theme tune. Beat the teacher with Bruno Brooks and latterly Paul Jones from Manfred Mann? Now that should come back!!!!!

Enough of this - my next offering will be about Christmas. I think I like Christmas a lot so it promises to be a lot of fun. Although if I don't like Christmas which is possible then I'm sure it will be okay also.

Anyway you can't put up with me any longer so best just piss off back to your shit bag issues and cock problems.

Tables.

Rappers Delight

2005-12-05T06:58:00.000-08:00

If at first you don't succeed try and try again. That was the old adage - until pencil case humour changed Britain forever.

Take my wife please. No seriously. Take her. Take my wife. Not really - I am unmarried. But if I were married take my wife please. Yes hahaha.

For Christmas I want peace on earth and good will to be extended to all men. And by men I mean men and women.

I say this because I am nice and it is not cool to be materialistic at Christmas.
But I love getting presents.
And if on Christmas morning my whole family and all my friends came round to my house and said "Steven, we have all clubbed together..." I would cry as together is my pet seal. I love that little fella. But if they said "Steven, we have all put our money together and managed to buy peace on earth in your name and from this day forth today will be known across the world as Steven's Peace day" I would actually feel a bit aggrieved. I'd obviously be delighted at the peace on earth thing but somewhere in my mind would be 'oh. Nothing to open then. Not even a selection box or some other hollow gesture.

I'd probably get a bit resentful. Out walking and just kicking leaves about I'd get more and more angry. Black oily hatred just burning inside me. I'd probably punch an Arab who'd blame a Jew and a small scuffle would break out. This would escalate and the Chinese would inevitably become involved. Soon it will have spread from the park and gone village and then county wide. This will be seen across the country and copy cat fights would break out until all of Britain was fighting each other because of race or religion. Across Europe and the world this would spread until the amount of violence forced the planet to stop rotating and just tut. One enormous tut that knocked itself of it's axis and banged us into the moon. Your other planets would soon be hanging around watching the situation like mad freezers. Then pop. No more violence, no more hatred, no more planet, no more life. All cos I didn't get anything to open. So keep it in mind. Your entire future could depend on it.

And never say "ooh but nobody told me" in a whiney fucked up kind of way. Cos I did tell you. And don't start with the "ooh but I thought it was made up" in a weird nasal cock loving kind of way cos like all good stories mine is based on a true story. And in the movie I was played by George "minder" Cole so stick that up your fun tube and piss. Ya Bhuna's.

Beware the beast of Muzak

2005-12-05T05:12:00.000-08:00

I like small speakers, I like tall speakers.
If they've music, they're wired for sound.
Walkin' about with a head full of music.
Cassette in my pocket and I'm gonna use it,Stereo, out on the street you know.Oh oh oh woh woh woh
Into the car go to work and I'm cruisin'.
I never think that I'll blow all my fuses.
Traffic flows, into the breakfast show.Oh oh oh woh woh woh
Oh, oh, oh
Power from the needle to the plastic.AM FM.I feel so ecstatic now.It's music I've found,And I'm wired for sound.
I was small boy who don't like his toys.I could not wait to get wired for sound.
I met a girl and she told me she loved me.
I said, "You love me then, love means you must like what I like.
My music is dynamite!"Oh oh oh woh woh woh
She said, "I'm not a girl you put on at a stand by.
I am a girl who demands that her love is amplified.
Switch into over drive."Oh oh oh woh woh woh
Oh, oh, oh
Power from the needle to the plastic.AM FM.I feel so ecstatic now.It's music I've found,And I'm wired for sound.
Power from the needle to the plastic.A.M FM.I feel so ecstatic now.It's music I've found,Coz I'm wired for sound.
I like small speakers, I like tall speakers.If they've music, they're wired for sound.
I like small speakers, I like tall speakers.If they've music, they're wired for sound.
I like small speakers, I like tall speakers.If they've music, they're wired for sound.
I like small speakers.I like tall speaks, and wall speakers.
But most of all, I like loud speakers.

And that's the end of that chapter!!!

Tube Le Moan (it's a play on the word Toblerone)

2005-11-30T06:38:00.000-08:00

The tube is full of total wanker doodle dandies.

I know this is not breaking news but I just want to air it. When I first moved to London I knew to expect mannerless scary people being scary and without manners but this is ridculous. I use the Northern line mostly which is a real misnomer. I expected the Northern line to be used by Northern people (foolish perhaps but it made sense at the time) and that it would all be "after you" "neigh lad after you" and "mind t'gap" or "happen as the next station is oval"

The reality is a bunch of cunts fucking up my niceness with nasty juice and pointy arrogance sticks.

Those people who walk along the platform keeping themselves level with the doors of a stopping train and getting on in front of those that were waiting in the right place? Bunch of twat dragons all. A stiff shoulder in their faces makes them reconsider that option. If they manage to escape and get on in front of you and take the last seat then stand directly by them and stare at them for your/their entire journey. Each time they glance at you mouth the words "nest of tables" at them - chances are they can't lip read and it will shit them right up not knowing what you are saying. Do that or if brave enough - piss on them. It will be two seconds before they realise what's happening, 4 seconds to get out of their seat (more if you use an arm to keep them seated) and 1 second to get out of piss range. This gives you plenty of piss potential to do some real wet damage.

Those people who push themselves on to an already full train 4 stops after you got on and manage to find enough space to read while you, who were fine when you got on, are splurged against a glass partition where the ceiling is level with your lower back and there is nothing to hold on to except and elderly Hungarian lady in a coat or a black youth listening to incomprehensible rap static through his phone? Well those pushing on people are oxygen stealing vermin rapes. If you are lucky enough to get off before them force them off with you and hug them on the platform until the train leaves, then punch them, then leave.

Those people who get on before you get off despite the repeated pleas of the uninspiring robo-voice? Those people are a bunch of fucking grape jockeys. If you can lift them up and staple their faces to the speakers where the message about letting peopel off before you get in comes out and ask to have played full blast down their hearing pipes until their brain melts and leaks out of their noses. While they are hanging there from the cheek staples feel free to push them back and forth like a ghoulish punchbag and force hot needles behind their kneecaps.

That's my Tube Le Moan - there are more than three annoying types but I can't go on and you are all bored so go and do something constructive.

Meat heads.

Weeping tears of piss

2005-11-29T03:21:00.000-08:00

Some facts will just make your mind boggle...and your cousin play boggle.

Did you know that if you soak a weetabix in milk for 3 days it becomes a father?
Did you know that no two ladders are the same?
Did you know that the first ever recorded joke - found scrawled on a temple wall in Ancient Egypt - made fun of Jeremy Beadles withered hand?

The above reminds me that I hate sentences starting with "did you know" they usually appear in sunday tabloids in little boxes under headings like mad facts or stat attack.

And why is it that when you are 8 years old and buy a joke book that is designed to be read by 8 year olds that almost all the jokes start with the line "I say, I say, I say"? What the fuck is that about? "Did you hear the one about the five cocked sheriff"? I can live with did you hears but I spew up my own rib cage at the I says.

And all joke books seem to be "bumper" these days. I'll put up with that though.

I have been thinking recently about the following: If a man is famous for wearing a hat how long would he have to not wear the hat for before he is not remembered for the hat. It's been keeping me awake at night. It would be easy to think that it is equal time - ie he wears his hat and is famous with his hat for 6 years so it will take 6 years and 1 day of not wearing the hat to be famous without the hat. But there is no way that it is that simple.

If it snows enough this winter I'm going to sit on a plastic bag and bomb down a hill. I used to do that every winter and remeber it was brilliant. No it was fucking brilliant - like Bad Boys 2.

No time for love Dr. Jones - I'm off

Long live you all and me

Pigs.

Suggestive Bumhole text

2005-11-09T06:39:00.000-08:00

"so here it is merry christmas everybody having fun!" so sang Slade the crazy Brummy freaks talking about Christmas. I'm 30 now and Slade are offering to sing about me next year. I might not let them.

Being 30 feels absolutely no different to 29. Or does it. How would I know - I had to miss out on being 29 in the controversial years for corn governmental scheme in G'dansk. Bunch of wankers. They could have took being say 1 off me where all I'd have missed out on would have been rolling about pissing, crying and sleeping in my own shit. And I did that at ages 17 and 22. And 25.

I'm going for a bath. Fuck Off.

Soup and Graham

2005-10-11T23:46:00.000-07:00

Well long time no blog, this should put that right. I may even comment on the days news, current affairs and interesting articles from around the world. Might not though.

It would appear that even though I receive no actual comments I am still writing on this thing. It's probably just a way to transfer some of the head madness away from my aching brain. The voices - or rather the voice - has been a real problem this week with all his "strangle this" and "piss on that". I did not yield. I am like supergran, strong yet decent. Those cats shouldn't have been there, I can not and will not take the blame for that. Or the child incident.

Television is good but when there is nothing good on I have to watch rubbish. I also had some cheese today - on a cracker too like I was a Duke or something. I must get some more and practice.

I have been trying to think of a reason to promptly end this message tactfully as I really need to go to the toilet...oh there's the doorbell I must answer it as it maybe a car owner who needs assistance moving a fox he's just clonked or it could be a man on fire who needs water. Nobody need ever know I'm leaving to shit.

Good night

I can't believe it's not butter

2005-09-15T10:38:00.000-07:00

It does work! Soon I'll be playing around with photos and stuff then you'll see. How dare you all mutter behind guilty hands about me being a rembod. I'll rembod you and then I'll be the winner. People walking by in their fancy clothes thinking look at me in my fancy clothes, let's do lunch, oh Sandra you look just devine - well shut up. I'm the winner.

If you wanna go dancing then fine but don't dance on a full stomach, or is that swimming? But why would you dance in a swimming pool - who do you think you are dancing in a pool like Black Lace reeling off their funtime classics, Agadoo? Stick to the tightrope act Mac cos you ain't shit to me.

Sunday buns are never as good - just past their best after a Saturday purchase. Sundays are for beef anyway so put the buns away and calm down - Jeez you're an idiot sometimes. Pretending to listen to the radio and read the paper makes you look like a right loony. Pick a lane for crisps sake.

Feeling like three balloons.

Bye

Random beginning

2005-09-15T02:31:00.000-07:00

Blog me up, blog me down but if you ever blog me sideways I'll rip your freakin head from your shoulders and kick the sweet fun out of your torso.

I really have nothing to say but I want to see if this works.