Saturday, April 26, 2008


Better than me will write mourning the passing of Humphrey Lyttleton but I couldn't let it pass disregarded here.

I shall miss his dry delivery in "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue," though we should be grateful for such a long and hilarious run. But mostly, I should be most grateful to him for his long-running jazz programme on Radio 2 which introduced me to some glorious music in the years before record companies relased their back-catalogues on CD.

A very civilised man.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

More plans...

Things to do number four: The Cyclist

Being a pedestrian, I heartily detest the average cyclist. The hypocrisy of cyclists is most evident at traffic lights: when was the last time you saw one actually stop at a red light?Whilst at once whining about the aggression of drivers and the being victims of random dangers the buggers whizz along the pavement caring not one whit for the safety of pedestrians. Let's make one thing very clear: bicycles are vehicles and have no place on the pavement. No, tell you what: let's make two things very clear:

  • Bicycles have no place on pavements and bicycles are required by law to have working bells.
Make the connection?

I have no issue with tiny tots riding their bikes on the pavements: it's a balance of risks I'm happy to live with. Hairy great pillocks in sweat and spandex? No chance.

If the time ever comes, I'll be kicking the back wheels out from under the bastards when they scoot past.

Things to do number five: The Crown Prosecution Service

It occurs to me that should the time ever come, some may think that these blog entries suggest a degree of premeditation on my part. I'd best remember to take out the CPS just to cover my back for a bit.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Planning ahead

I've been mulling things over a lot lately and got to thinking about what I'd get up to should I ever have a psychotic episode. You have to prepare for these things, there's no pointing in wasting the opportunity should it come along. That's why so many nutters do something half-arsed like writing letters to MPs in green biro.

Things to do number one: The Umbrella

Umbrellas, obviously, need to be addressed. I suppose, on balance, I have no problem with people who use them responsibly (having eyes at umbrella spoke level being the issue here). I do have a major problem with people who don't know how to carry an umbrella. The clue is in the word handle but they're too damned thick to realise this. Instead, they hold the umbrella mid-way along its length and then march along the pavement, thrusting the bloody thing in a crotch-level parabola. The ferrule is always pointed backwards so that the inconsiderate bastards can pretend not to realise that they're just short of impaling passers-by. I often have to supress the urge to steal the umbrella from their grasp and shove it up their arse.

Even worse are the piloocks who do this while riding an escalator. C**ts. I have decided, then, that should I have a psychotic episode in the company of this type I shall wrest the umbrella from them and hurl it into oblivion.

Things to do number two: pavement parking

I'm an easy-going sort and don't get too irate when people park with their wheels on the kerb of the pavement. I do get very vexed indeed when they park completely on the pavement.

"Considerate parking"

they bleat, which is to say great for motorists who are still able to bomb along the sideroads of Britain with space aplenty for the scythes on their wheels. Not so good for the pedestrians with a six-inch width path to negotiate. Thank God I'm not in a wheelchair or pushing a baby's pram.

If the time ever comes, I shall decide that "if it's on the pavement, it is the pavement" and I shall walk over the cars in question. Ideally in the company of a big old Silver Cross pram filled with scrap metal.

Things to do number three: trains

It hardly needs saying does it?

Whenever we got another unannounced cancellation I would ring the Chairman of Northern Trains at his home or office (perhaps leaving messages at both) telling him that the train's not turned up and asking when he's coming to pick us up in his car to get us into work on time.

I can see this train of thought running and running...