• November 2008
    M T W T F S S
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    "Updated every day with doses of good humour, political satire, a running commentary on the progress of author's home football team and his life."

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    "People may also find the Ben Lomond Free Press blog illuminating, interesting and/or amusing. It’s not mentalist as such but familiar themes emerge. I particularly like accounts of encounters with strange elementals (of course! ELEmentals!) from elfin safety. And the fact that the blog is run by someone who plays in a blues band called Harmonica Lewinsky."

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To Give You a Laugh.

From my Cheshire correspondent, Stockport Steve.

The person who coined the phrase “as different as chalk and cheese”
obviously hadn’t tasted Kwik Save’s cheddar.

If Eastenders is so true to life, how come none of the loveable
Cockney characters are Man Utd supporters?

They say football is a game of two halves. Not for me it isn’t. I
regularly down eight or nine pints whilst watching a live game on Sky
TV in my local.

If smoking is bad for you, how come it cures Salmon?

Why does Frank Bruno get a gong just because he’s good at hitting
people? I’m brilliant at it but the most I’ve ever got is 200 hours
community service.

They say good manners cost you nothing. B*llocks. I sent my daughter
to finishing school and it cost me twenty bloody grand.

If, as Freddie Mercury claimed, fat bottomed girls make the rocking
world go round, isn’t it about time that the city of Derby received
some recognition for its contribution to astrophysics?

In the 20th Century, Britain only made war with countries whose
capital cities began with the letter ‘B’ – Germany (Berlin),
Argentina (Buenos Aires), Iraq (Baghdad), and Serbia (Belgrade).
China changed the name of Peking to Beijing and we bombed their
embassy. One hopes we will show a little more imagination in this

These so-called speed bumps are a joke. If anything, they slow you

Now I’ve been going out with my girlfriend for some time, it seems OK
when I break wind in bed. It’s when I follow through that the petty
arguments begin. I will never understand women.

We should remember the tremendous contribution of the Queen Mother to
the war effort: as the BBC pointed out, she “bravely remained in
London beside her husband” during the war. This contrasts sharply
with the actions of my grandfather who, on the declaration of war
immediately left his wife and children and p*ssed off, first to
France, then North Africa, Italy, France (again) and finally Germany.

Like the Queen Mum, my grandfather was a frequent visitor to the East
End during the dark days of the blitz, but he was never hailed as a
hero by the people of London . That’s because he flew Heinkel bombers
for the Luftwaffe.

I would just like to say a big thank you to all those wonderful young
people who stand on motorway slip roads (and in any weather) holding
up boards telling us motorists where they lead to.

Davina McCall says that dangling off a helicopter over the Grand
Canyon on a 700 foot bungee rope was the most terrifying and
dangerous thing she has ever done. She must be forgetting that she
went out with Stan Collymore.

So Sting is able to shag his wife for five hours without getting off.
I know how he feels. My wife is no oil painting either.

I heard recently that, on average, Alex Ferguson receives two turds
in the post each week. What I want to know is, who’s sending the
other one?

Scotland Rocks! (2) S.A.H.B.

For the uninitiated that’s the Sensational Alex Harvey Band. This is just classic. I wonder If Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller ever envisaged their song being performed in this way? Watch as Alex pours beer in his hair, screams and shouts and then puts a stocking on his head in a performance lasting over 9 minutes. The 1974 Norwegian audience look pretty mystified by the whole thing.

Info about Alex and the band is here.

Stu Who? Hits the Blogosphere.

Aye, Scotland’s foremost fruitcake comedian has now got himself his own BLOG. thanks to being inspired by reading this one. Well worth the read but not for delicate wee souls who don’t like swearing or blasphemy. It’s a safe bet that you really won’t like it if you bought the Mail on Sunday for the free Cliff cd.

My Dentist

After an excruciating extraction a couple of weeks ago, it’s back to the dentist this morning for more painful gob maintenance. I haven’t featured a Robert Service poem for a while and this one seems apposite.

Sitting in the dentist's chair,
Wishing that I wasn't there,
To forget and pass the time
I have made this bit of rhyme.

I had a rendez-vous at ten;
I rushed to get in line,
But found a lot of dames and men
Had waited there since nine;
I stared at them, then in an hour
Was blandly ushered in;
But though my face was grim and sour
He met me with a grin.

He told me of his horse of blood,
And how it "also ran",
He plans to own a racing stud -
(He seems a wealthy man.)
And then he left me there until
I growled: "At any rate,
I hope he'll not charge in his bill
For all the time I wait."

His wife has sables on her back,
With jewels she's ablaze;
She drives a stately Cadillac,
And I'm the mug who pays:
At least I'm one of those who peer
With pessimistic gloom
At magazines of yester-year
In his damn waiting room.

I am a Christian Scientist;
I don't believe in pain;
My dentist had a powerful wrist,
He tries and tries in vain
To make me grunt or groan or squeal
With probe or rasp or drill. . . .
But oh, what agony I feel

Sitting in the dental chair,
Don't you wish you weren't there:
Well, your cup of woe to fill,
Just think of his infernal bill.

My Dentist, Robert Service

Edit: In case my dentist happens to read this, before my appointment, I’d just like to say that she is nothing at all like the dentist described in Robert Service’s poem. She doesn’t inflict pain at all and her charges are very reasonable!!