This and That

Model behaviour

Glancing at photos of the never ending parade of fashion models prancing down the cat-walk, now a ritual feature in the quality daily newspapers, I’m struck not only by the bored look on their faces, but how alike all the faces are.

I’m reminded of that great movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers; people erupting from pods…

Why is it I never see any of them, let’s say, in Tesco? Could be some of the creations they display prancing down the cat-walk might call for a comment or two at the check-out…..”allo darlin’ where did you get that, the local charity shop”?

No doubt they end up marrying bankers and spend their days staring into space, or maybe what to wear at the Royal Hunt Ball…mmm…

I’ll get myself a pair of bicycle clips and wangle an invitation ……I can picture it now…”may I have this dance”… gliding round the floor, uttering in her ear ” my family own anything you care to mention… from bordellos to clip joints. Marry me and I’ll buy you your own cat walk”, which I think is a good chatting-up approach. Something tells me I’m getting carried away by my own chutzpah, but as that popular song from the 40s goes… I can dream can’t I?

Photograph courtesy david_shankbone

What is it good for?

Kill someone, if you’re a civilian, and you could go to prison for life.

How can you commit the same crime and receive not only the blessing of the government, but also get a medal for doing so?

Simple – join the army.

We need look no further than the tragic episode of the Iraq war; thousands of civilians were killed, despite no evidence of that country being a threat to us. The same situation is occurring at present in Syria where their army are indiscriminately killing the civilian population. As we have heard so many times, when these moronic psychopaths are eventually brought to book…”I was acting under orders”. That being the case, if told by their masters in power, to jump off a cliff, they would readily do so? I think not…

Is it really that long ago when Nazi Germany were perpetrating the horrors of the Third Reich putting innocent women and children into the gas ovens? Without doubt a war of civil conflict is the worse scenario whereby civilian can be pitted against civilian….each side justifying their killing.

Its a mad world…


Photograph courtesy The US Army

Feet hurt?

Mrs Jones from Dorking says:

“For years I suffered with painful feet. I tried everything to alleviate the pain; the NHS couldn’t discover anything wrong with my feet.


So I paid a lot of money to go private and see a feet consultant. He recommended a course of walking on my hands. It was difficult at first, but I very soon mastered it; now I walk on them all the time. I’m pleased to say my feet no longer give me any trouble.”

Let's have it one more time

The dumbing down process has now reached the classical field. Every concert of popular classics is now performed having a tenor give out with Nessun Dorma. A bit like seeing Bruce Willis in every smash bang wallop movie To spice it up a bit have someone like George Michael or Pixie Lott do it….maybe then the promoters will enquire if there are any other arias in the vast catalogue of the classics that the public know about…..but they don’t

How to easily win a bet

Here’s how… Whenever you hear of a popular classical concert being performed at the Albert Hall, bet someone, without knowing what’s being played, that Nessun Dorma will be included.

Those who compile the programmes for these concerts always play it safe by having that aria sung on the night. It’s what is called dumbing down. I can see it reaching the point where eventually some people won’t bother to go if its not on the bill. A parallel could be drawn with those going to rock concerts and always bitterly disappointed when the musicians rarely play any of their former hits. Back to the classics… there’s many other arias as good as, if not better than that perennial favourite, even by the same composer. Rossini, well it might happen someday. If it does forget about the bet.

Growing Young… Backwards

There was a time several years ago upon being asked by friends how old I was, I replied truthfully and was chuffed to hear them reply “you don’t look it”. As the years began to whiz by faster than the speed of sound, the same question was put to me, not only by those I knew, but by strangers I was introduced to, and for some reason they adopted an astonished look, and out came what was now the stock reply – you don’t look it. This got me thinking because what everyone was telling me was at variance to what my mirror was telling me when shaving in the morning. It was times like this when vanity rears its head, therefore I decided to believe those decent honest citizens. And not the stupid mirror on the wall.

I walked around saying inwardly…I don’t look my age…..I don’t look my age…my ego convinced me to impart that beautiful saying to anyone within earshot, and followed it up with “I’ll probably live for 200 years or more”. Unfortunately I said this to someone who retorted, he only had two weeks to live. This sad statement was said with tears in his eyes. Not having a hankie I passed him a Kleenex , my kind gesture brought on more tears. As I was running low on Kleenex, I expressed my sorrow, saying “we’ll probably meet up again 200 years time when I’ll treat you to a pint in a heavenly hostelry” and took my departure.

The accolades continued to roll in; before saying “pleased to meet you” I jumped in with “ask me my age” It was now a 24 hour obsession. I convinced myself the hairs on my pillow fell off the cat.

What I needed was a summing-up and guidance for the way forward, and decided to try a course of psychotherapy that involved treatment for any possible mental disorder by bringing repressed fears and conflicts into the conscious mind. I made an appointment to see a leading specialist in that field. Mr Quack, for that was his name, greeted me with a comforting smile. I sat in a deep cushioned chair and poured out my fears about immortality. He adopted a very convincing look which reminded me of Mickey Rooney’s father Judge Hardy in the Andy Hardy movies. Several seconds went by in silence, then he spoke “you are suffering from delusions of grandeur” Another few seconds elapsed…. then I spoke…….”is that all you have to say to me” “No” he replied ” there’s the question of the fee; as it was a short session just give me 50 quid” I rose from my cushioned chair, tossed 50 quid on the desk….then screamed “your bloody name goes with the job, Quackie”. I then stormed out.

So where do I go from here? The elixir of life is in my grasp… or is it? Then came the fateful day when buying a new mirror to replace the one that distorted my appearance…. the new one was double sided…one side was magnified….I looked deeply into it when shaving and suddenly noticed my face did not match the “you don’t look your age” comments.

This mirror was telling me I do match my age…..I wasted £1.50….I should have kept the old mirror. I glanced at it again, this time from a distance…..mmm ……not too bad from here…as I drew closer reality stared me in the face……good god….the lines in my forehead. and those on my cheeks and around the jaw, I thought denoted character, now looked like rail tracks…those bags under the eyes are big enough to hold some shopping…..and that cute mole under my left ear could be mistaken for a cancerous growth…..

I stared at the Frankenstein face in the mirror…….You dope I said to myself….. people have patronised you all these years, and you never latched on….well next time its said I’ll just reply “OH BUT I INSIST…I DO LOOK IT”.

But that’s not the end of the story…….have you guessed? it was a bad dream/nightmare
take your choice.

Yours truly
Rip Van Winkle

Whatever next?

I tuned in to ITV couple of days ago for the afternoon news, and could not take my eyes off the lips of the lady reading it. Despite reeling off important news about the latest catastrophe, her lips were the main attraction. The penny then dropped…. she’s had the latest craze for changing the face… lip surgery.

Why she would want it done when she was already extremely attractive, beats me. Surely there can’t be anywhere remaining on the face for cosmetic surgeons to tamper with, but I suppose where money, vanity and celebs wanting to look forever young they’ll come up with something.

That puts me in mind of The Picture of Dorian Gray, but that’s another story… unfortunately with an unhappy ending.

Party Planning

Recession……what recession!!!!!!!! D’you think the lady in the corn flakes ad is worried about it?

Or take Pippa Middleton the royal bridesmaid whose bottom stole the limelight from her sister’s wedding ….and just signed a book deal for £400,000. Thinking it might be a critical analysis of Karl Marx and Einstein and where she thinks they went wrong, I was mildly disappointed to read that was not the case. But then my spirits were raised upon reading that this bottom lady has come up with something more exhilarating than dialectical materialism or the theory of relativity. It is…..wait for it……..a guide to party planning. And there’s me thinking all you need to know is cooking a few hamburgers on the barbecue, a few glasses of vinegar tasting wine from Tesco and bob’s your uncle…….I can’t wait for the book’s publication to find out where I’m going wrong.

Mind you, they are an industrious family where pounds shillings and pence seem to be a central issue. Mummy and daddy raked in a few bob flogging wedding mugs. I hear Prince Phillip was so disgusted by all the goings on, he donned his naval uniform, retired to the royal bathroom, and played with his toy boats in the bath. My informants tell me mummy and daddy Middleton are hoping Pippa and prince Harry will splice the main brace so they can erase K & W from the unsold mugs and replace them with the new couple. I have it on good authority that it would be a wonderful match as both being seven nights a week party clubbers they’d never have time to argue.

There’s a popular song from the 50s called…… “Two different worlds We live in two different worlds” You’re telling me!!!!!!!!

Great British Mobility Customers' Charter

Scanning a recent copy of “What’s on TV” magazine a four page insert caught my eye “Buy one get one free” headed “Introducing The Great British Mobility Customers’ Charter”.

What they were flogging was easy chairs with the real come on……”excellent reputation for trading honestly……pursuing the highest levels of customer care and integrity”……..don’t make me laugh. Would you believe ……spread over four pages there was no indication of how much the illustrated items would cost you. To me it’s a bloody rip off…..I say that because of similar ads to include hearing aids….sound systems (this in particular with personalities like Jools Holland extolling the virtues of a particular system) which he probably got free of charge for recommending it.

Doctor Marten

So now we know…….Doctor Marten footwear is best displayed on train seats.


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