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I think I should absolutely be on the Entertainment Committee for Rio…

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I’ve left it until the end to pass comment on the olympics, and contrary to Julie Andrews “Let’s start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place to start” I say No!  let’s start at the end with the closing ceremony shizzle.

    I made notes throughout, as I clung to the edge of the mattress – ousted by the childerbeast and the prone form of the Bman, as we watched in bed.  Predictions were made and in some cases, mercifully, were proven wrong, (Elton/McCartney/Grace Jones hula-ing).  I had threatened to switch the box off immediately if there was even a whiff of Cheryl Cole as that would totally NOT be ‘worth it’.  

I was right about this shit being available on Ebay by the morning though:- olympic+lightbulb+hat

£200 at mo with 4 days to go – for the full rig-out

I’m not so sure that any of the Canadian Team will get much more that a 99p starting bid for any of their denim jackets, which I’d like to think were an ironic statement but…

Suggestions of what we would consider entertaining and ‘typically British’ were bandied about during the course of conversation.  It became apparent very early on in this discourse that the IOC did well to steer well away from getting Bman & I involved in any way whatsoever with the opening or closing ceremonies if I’m honest.

My suggestion that The Grumbleweeds should headline, doing that combine harvester song and the one about drinking cider was not to be fulfilled.  In fairness, I’d have waited a long time because, having looked it up, these songs were actually performed by The Wurzels!

Now there’s a thought… A Wurzels/Grumbleweeds collaboration!  What could go wrong?

 Another idea that The Charlatans should perform the One-Eyed Gnome song whilst a troupe of dancing dwarves/children/persons of diminutive stature dressed in pointy hats, beards & eye-patches did a routine, was also woefully absent.  Pity… because let’s be honest, who wouldn’t be amused by that?

 Instead, once One Direction & that ginge from Halifax (who could at least have dressed up for the night) had played, the childerbeast lost interest, having no idea who anyone was.  They shared furtive glances of confusion as the Petshop Boys rode in on a chariot of cycling carrots.  The Kaiser Chiefs pretended to be The Who.  The Who pretended to be 45 years younger (not really your generation anymore is it Roger in all honesty?)

Jesse J forgot to get dressed.  Tiny Spider’s Tinkler sang something with someone else who begins with T (who’s real name is Jacob – thankyou Wikipedia) and who is actually British (despite our disputing otherwise last night). 

     It all went a bit Whitby Goth Weekend when Annie Lennox sailed in on the back of her and Suggs’  BOGOF offer from the Jubilee.  Norman Cook appeared from within a mahoosive shower cap and played his records on a rickety set of decks.   

The Spice Girls, looking like none of them had eaten for a month on purpose, rode around the stadium on top of Hackney cabs and didn’t try and ram one another or anything.  They belted out ‘Wannabe’ and ‘Spice up your life’ and even though I’ll happily admit to owning 2 Spice Girl albums, I won’t deny that secretly I was hoping one of them might fall off & snap like a twig.  (Posh, Posh, Posh, Posh!)  

God help us, even Badger BJ & the man like Cam were even seen to be boogying on down to the Old Spices:-

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/9472746/Boris-Johnson-dances-to-Spice-Girls-at-Olympic-closing-ceremony.html

 

Timothy Spall appeared from atop Big Ben – again, much funnier if he had been in character as Barry from Auf Wiedersehn Pet rather then Winston Churchill.  Russell Brand (FFS?!) told us all he was the eggman and the walrus in some kind of tight-trousered, mad, acid-fuelled Benny Hill number. 

George Michael stayed awake long enough to crack out 2 numbers and is now in bother for showing off & doing some new material .  His mobile seeming to be in hand at one point, having flown out of his jacket pocket, (possibly Elton or Andrew Ridgely on the blower demanding to know why they hadn’t been asked to join in… or maybe it was  just his dealer?)

When I get in I’m building a 7-skinner THIS big y’all!

I know I sound like I’m slating it all, but I actually rather enjoyed it, despite the pointlessness of some of it – (Kate Moss et al doing their catwalk thing  pretty much being the antithesis of achieving anything by hard work and struggle).

Oldies dead and alive (difficult to tell on occasion) were wheeled out for the party of British music through the years.

Brian May – Now AKA in our house as “Grey candyfloss dude

Quote of the night from one of my childrebeast came just before Eric Idle appeared:  “Oh God! Here we go again! Russell Grant getting fired out of a cannon!”

Lesser bands performed the hits of their predecessors and just when you thought it surely must end soon… it didn’t!

 

Big up to (Oooooh) Gary Barlow though, in the light of personal tragedy of late, for not blobbing out of the Take That number.   I think London put on a most festive, if slightly bewildering at times, spectacle, which could have been so much more of a damp squib if we hadn’t come 3rd in the medal table. 

Team GB did good in the end.  This is the most sport I have ever watched and only did so once we started to win stuff (like you do). 

Let’s hope it has inspired the youth of today to stop acting like the dicks, doleites and assholes of tomorrow.

Right,  must go.  I have an email to draft to the Rio 2016 Entertainments Committee  – I have a stack of ideas that I think they should hear me out on…

 

BTW I bet you’re glad I was away at Magic Loungeabout and didn’t get to see the opening ceremony 😉

 

Xx

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Friday Round Up (which includes the word ‘mirkin’ so what’s not to like?)

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Favourite pictures I have purloined from sitonmyfacebook this week are as follows:

 
and this one which I should probably get as a tattoo:-

 

Favourite blog entry I have read this week has to be from The Bloggess, documenting a recent trip to the cinema dressed in a wolf pelt.  Not a  wolf fleece (or indeed a wokf fleece) but a true wolf pelt.  Awesome! 

  How do I know that if she had been in Whitby at the weekend we would have liberated that stuffed alligator and the hand of glory and the tempest prognosticator? and I would also possibly have several full size ichthyosaur fossils decorating my garden.

Have a read here: – The Bloggess

 

Best thing I have watched on TV this week has to be ‘Life’s Too Short’. 

Can’t find the scene where Johnny Depp plays a penny whistle & makes Warwick Davis Riverdance – but this scene is also bloody brilliant!

 

 

I was rather less entertained by the sight of Russell Grant being fired from a polystyrene cannon at Wembley Arena; dressed in a shirt that looked like something I once saw a Supergrass gig in at T in the Park! 

See where you went wrong there Aunty Beeb was not using a real cannon. 

Mercifully he has now been voted off the show which is a great shame for Millets who I’m sure had gained financially from all the tent sales.  I’m sure he’s a lovely man, but seriously, it was bad enough with Widdicombe last year.  Enough with the comedy fat celebrities in sequins please!

 

Choice phrases of the week,  which one wouldn’t usually hear or use in polite society are:- 

“I’m telling you that cock is going viral my friend”

and one which I think could turn into a classic:-

“If all else fails, we can always quiff up the mirkin”

Now if that second one doesn’t deserve some kind of merchandise creating on Zazzle at The DHW Store right now then I’d be failing you all.   Leave it with me.   I’m on it!

Enjoy your weekend peeps Xx

Bman says I have to call it his party because he heated up all the bhajis

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While I’m not sure that all functioning faculties have been restored to normal, if I don’t crack on and review my 80’s Zombie School Disco from Saturday night the moment will be lost.

Whilst my sister’s gazebo survived unscathed; as did ‘Troy Bolton’ (dressed as a zombie ghoul) I can’t say the same for my liver or remaining brain cells.

 

Getting my fiver's worth out of Troy Bolton

 

All the effort Bman put in with the lasers and strobes etc was fab although he didn’t have as much joy with his weird contact lens & his phoney scars which refused to play and had to be abandoned.  This left him looking rather more like some kind of Polish Beetlejuice which may not have been the effect he was aiming for, while I looked like Kim Wilde gone to seed.

Have to say a massive kudos to ‘Sonny Cockit & Fellatio Tubbs’ for the attention to detail for the 80’s theme if not to the spelling!!) & for coming at all as ‘Cockit’ was feeling a little under the weather.

Spellcheck anyone?

The 80’s themed quiz I devised went well although the 80s DVD quiz we attempted later on after the Childerbeast had all been put to bed was apparently a bit of a buzz killer. I blame Suggs entirely for this.

I have no recollection of this whatsoever as I was away with my old pal Jose Cuervo by then and was, so I’m told, face down in the sofa.    Mercifully, there is no photographic or video evidence of this because it’s usually me who takes that kind of photo of other people.   Perhaps my camera was concealed beneath my prone body at the time, after I had crashed to the couch in what was apparently an impressive face-plant after announcing that I needed a wee.    Also thankfully I hadn’t needed a wee that much that I soiled myself. (I know this because I tested the couch cushions & my discarded tights in the morning for telltale dampness).   Hey! Don’t judge me! Who needs to be classy when you’re painted up like a zombie? No-one, that’s who – it’s a licence to act like an unthinking, mindless lurching carcass!

The cast of Happy Days had not aged well

 

So anyhoo, I woke up next morning naked in bed next to Emma (which wouldn’t be the first time).    I also felt, unsurprisingly like a bag of shite!

When I finally dragged my sorry ass downstairs and laid on the couch with Gill under a duvet, I thought a glass of pineapple juice and a yogurt might help… but I was wrong and had to bolt upstairs to barf.

Shexy lady.

I felt all the better for it until we put on Strictly Come Dancing Halloween Special on the magic digibox and I thought I must’ve eaten the worm from the tequila when I kept seeing an overweight devil shimmying and shaking infront of my eyes.    It wasn’t.  It was Russell Grant camping it up big style and not doing much to improve the sensitivity of my stomach.

The house lay in a state of disarray until yesterday when Bman had to tidy it all up while I was at work, still feeling rough as a dog & teaching inmates who’d had parole for a week & were giddy about going Trick or Treating all about Samhain and how it’s marked all over the world in it’s various forms.   Bman found things beneath the couch and tables that he really doesn’t want to talk about in detail but I still think he may have had the better deal!

All in all, it was  a great success and I only wish we had a larger house so we could invite more people.  Maybe next year we could hold it at The Moss? This would be awesome and will also let me know whether or not my mum still reads my work as I am sure she would have something to say about that suggestion – she’s been on the wrong end of some of my house parties before!

 BTW…. the fake blood is STILL in my freakin’ hair!

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