Friday, 26 November 2010

Mr William is unsure of his 'Lines'!

Fab-u lous Friday to you, dear Reader,
Yes, as Craig 'Revile' Horwood would say, it's a 'fab-u-lous day, darrrling!' The reason?, I'm feeling a lot better after a bout of 'man flu'. I was, of course, at death's door, but a couple of days of 'TLC' ( tender loving care, not some new obscure 'Boyband') have got me on my feet. My lawyer, Robin Scheister, tells me that he has 'goggled' something on the 'infra-red net' and says there is a girl band called 'TLC'. Well, before the rumours of my prowess spread even further, I have to admit that they did not come to my aid- more's the pity, but I will keep them on speed dial for any future emergencies.

No, my daughter watched out for me, with food, medication etc and my son-in-law, the one who reckons my diary is his brainchild, managed to shift his behind and deliver my Daily Telegraphs and shift my bins. What does he want, a medal? Well, yes, he probably does.( Just like Muttley!) Anyway, I have never watched so much tv in my life, out of sheer boredom. If I hear one more reference to Gillian McKeith's underwear, Ann Widdecombe's dancing 'bloomers' or whether 'Wagner' should be for the high jump ( and for the uninitiated, I do not mean that the 19th century maestro composer should compete in the 2012 London Olympics), I will do an Elvis and throw something heavy at my HD ready 'goggle box'!

Any rate, believe it or not, I have strayed off the point. Now that I am better, I can concentrate on getting prepared for my 'blind date'. No, she's not blind, but some unkind people have suggested that would be an advantage for me, but they're just jealous. No, you see, my stunning good looks are not my problem, it's getting my chat-up lines right. That's why I chose the pic at the top, 'cos I have a feeling I might be better being gagged, wearing a Santa hat and going for laughs rather than romantic lines.

I hear you rightly say, 'But, Mr William, you can charm birds out of the trees and have taught the world's greatest lotharios. What could be amiss?' Well, the answer is, that I get nervous about 'blind dates' after a few dodgy experiences in the past. The worst one was a few years back. I answered a 'lonely hearts' ad and when I rang, the person was a male, who said he was the lady's brother, but his sister had asked him to vett the callers. So, we set up a rendezvous. I should have suspected something, when he said I could meet 'Martha' behind a motorway service station on the M25. Well, when I got there, I find that 'Martha' was a cross-dressing truckdriver and all-in wrestler called Arthur. Let's just say, it took all my Gurkha training and a well aimed boot to his 'family jewels' to extricate myself, before I spoke with a falsetto and walked like John Wayne after 2 weeks 'in the saddle'!

So, you see why I am a little more circumcised this time. I have looked to my hero of stage and screen for some lines- the great  Leslie Phillips, he of 'Well, helloooo!' fame. One of his was, 'I thought there were only 7 wonders of the world, but now I see there are 8!' He tried this with Marlene Dietrich and she apparently loved it. Times have changed, though, and my research with a few experts (ie women) has revealed that they don't want chat-up lines, they want politeness, kindness, humour and straight forward attention and respect. Well, I can do that. I'm better avoiding trying clever lines. They tend to go wrong for me. Like the time I told a lady 'of a certain vintage' that she was a bit of a looker 'for her age'. She seemed a bit underwhelmed!

Anyway, I think I am sorted now. I will be the soul of discretion and a total gent. Although, to be honest, if I get to the restaurant and find my date is Gillian McKeith, I might have to ask her what she is trying to conceal 'in her knickers' this time. (Any rate, if you 'are what you eat', as she says, then I'm sticking to the pies!)That will be just before I yell, 'I'm a Celebrity, get me out of here!' Wish me luck?

Yours apprehensively but word perfect?

The blogging Gogfather
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Friday, 19 November 2010

Mr William is a 'Man with a Plan'?

Ian Fleming's image of James Bond; commissione...Image via Wikipedia
A Sparkling Friday Morrow to you, dear Reader,

I'm over the moon. I have a 'blind date' coming up and Cilla Black is nowhere to be seen. Yes, I did it all by myself with my Italian charm and debonair wit. There are a few of us about- James Bond, Leslie Phillips, Bill Clinton, Berlusconi--I taught them all they know! So, I am a man with a plan. Can't give you any more details on the lucky lady, 'cos I am too much of a gent, but also the damsel in question has still to be stunned by my dashing good looks. I may be an octogenarian, but 'matinee idol' was a phrase invented for me!

Thing is, she may be expecting James Bond or Jamie Oliver, and, of course, she won't be disappointed. (Although, I hope she doesn't ask me to cook any time soon. You see, I had another culinary disaaaster, as Craig 'Revile' Horwood would say. I had to cook this fish thing. I didn't see that the cooking instructions were under the label. So, I guessed. Well, that's the ass burnt out of another pot!) Come to think of it, I have only heard her voice. I could either meet up with Lady Gaga or Vera Duckworth! Anyway, I'm sure it will all go swimmingly, as I have a bit of a way with words.
At least I have more of a silver tongue than that Lord Young, who put his foot in his mouth and almost choked on the silver spoon that was there from birth. Imagine saying, 'Some of us have never had it so good.'? Well, yes, he was obviously speaking about himself and his rich tory toff friends! (Not that I'm jealous or anything). Suppose I had better raid the bank account and push the ol' boat out for a special meal. It will have to be some place where the headwaiter is suitably snooty!

That reminds me. All my preparations for the date were going well. I went to the barbers and asked for something amazing that would dazzle my lady friend. He offered me a flashlight and said I could shine that in her face and murmured something about not being a 'miracle worker'. Some people have no sense of romance! Then several minor 'disaaasters' befell me. Firstly, on 'Remembrance Sunday', a daffy lady reversed into my shiny red 'Peepmobile' in the church carpark. It's a good thing we were in holy precincts or I would have let her have both barrels. She didn't bat an eye- I nearly took a buckle in mine!

Then I went into church with my 'Gurkha' tie on, but I had mislaid my war medals somewhere along the way and decided to wear the only things to hand-boxing medals I won at school. It was a good thing no-one came too close or they would have seen the picture engraved on them of a young pugilist with boxing gloves at the ready. It would have been hard to explain how I took on the Japanese single-handed with a pair of boxing gloves, but, as I said before, I have a good way with words! Anyway, I always feel honoured to remember the sacrifice of the 'fallen'. Trouble was, there was a kaffuffle this year with the 'Last Post' and I am sure the '2 minute silence' turned into 10. I started to sway with exhaustion and thought I had met my 'Waterloo' and was going to join the 'fallen'!
The next hiccough was Aung San Suu Kyi being released from house arrest. I know it's good for her and democracy and all that, but she is going to be too busy now to do that little job I asked her to do. You remember I wrote to her about that girl I met in the war, when I was in Burma, to see if she could trace her? I didn't have a name or anything, but I am sure Aung could have looked into it, when she was at a loose end. Ah well, another loose end for me!
The last straw had to be when my 'implant' tooth fell out yesterday. I couldn't go on my date, like a toothless wonder. So, off I went to my dentist, Doctor Phil McAvity. He fixed it, but told me my teeth needed a 'plan'. I'm sure he knew what he was on about, but I'm also sure it will involve me paying through the nose!
Anyway, I think everything is hunky-dorey right now and I am ready to wow my lady friend on our blind date. So, wish me luck. Do you know any good chat-up lines that won't end up with me getting a bat around the chops?
Yours romantically yet really organised

The blogging Gogfather

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Thursday, 11 November 2010

Mr William and his 'Remembrance of Things Past'

Remembrance Day Poppies Laying on a Soldier's ...Image by Defence Images via Flickr
A Thoughtful Remembrance Day Thursday to you, dear Reader,

What's your memory like? Mine's a bit 'hit and miss', now that I'm an octogenarian. Yes, I tend to hit all my furniture with my shins and miss important appointments, all due to my patchy memory. I go into rooms and can't remember why. I make notes to remind myself of things
and then lose the note. 
The Bard asked, 'What's in a name?'. Well, a lot, especially if you find it hard to recall anyone's name, when you meet them. I'm reduced to calling everyone, 'Darling', like Craig 'Revile' Horwood. Some like it, even some of the men, but I do it to cover up the fact that their names have escaped me (along with my 'inhibition' chip, according to my daughter. It escaped years ago!).
By the way, did you know that Anton du Beke, yes, Brucie's wannabe love-child off Strictly Come Dancing, was christened Anthony Beech. Well, stars are always doing that to give themselves a bit of glamour, aren't they? Wonder what Lady Gaga was called at birth? Goo goo gaga? Ha, made myself laugh there! To be honest,though, I am in a serious frame of mind. I have just stood for the Remembrance Day 'silence' and I don't feel flippant. You see, I remember a few things really clearly. Firstly, the horrors and futility of war, including unforgiveable crimes like the 'Holocaust'. My problem right now, though, is not my patchy memory, but the patches of ground that will have to be dug for future victims of war and violence, if we don't learn the lessons of history. Of course, we should protest and stand up for what is right in life and society. Of course, dictatorships should be opposed, but military responses should be appropriate and compassionate.

For example, was it right to invade Iraq with the endless death and destruction it wreaked, and the resulting tension between East and West? Is George 'Dubya' Bush right to try to justify torture of prisoners? History teaches us that we have to only engage in a 'just war' and treat our enemies and prisoners fairly, if we are to retain any moral high ground; or else dear reader, what is it all about? Oscar Wilde talked of 'being in the gutter, but looking up at the stars'. Well, we have to be clear as to when we are simply wallowing in the gutter and when we are truly aspiring to reach the heights that the human spirit can achieve. Just look at the 'Pride of Britain Awards' and try not to be moved and inspired!

All you 'students of life' out there will have seen how some 'students' behaved yesterday in London. It may have been hijacked and I believe in peaceful protest, but what good did violence and criminal damage ever do for a cause if you want to win over 'hearts and minds'? All of us should be students of history and learn to 'study war no more'! I want to hear apologies for violence and war, not apologists! What do you think? We want fairness for all in society. Maybe the 'Condems' who have a  right to condemn the attack on their HQ could strive to help us all create a fair society. Perhaps, they could start with being very careful how they treat the poor and vulnerable in the coming years?

Well, I will leave it there. I'm sure I'll be more chirpy tomorrow, but I think sometimes we have to be serious about what is important to us all as humans. By the way, have you seen my glasses? I set them down somewhere...

Yours slightly hazily but clearly focused

The blogging Gogfather

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Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Mr William 'cooks up a storm' with the ladies!

Mrs. Laura Bush and daughter, Barbara Bush, ar...Image via Wikipedia
 A Throbbing Tuesday to you, dear Reader,
I may have given you the mistaken impression last time that I have something to learn from Berlusconi about the ladies. Truth is, I taught him everything he knows, even though I am 86. He has nothing on me( and my ever vigilant, but highly nervy lawyer asks me to point out that I have nothing on Senor B. either, at least nothing that would stick-Teflon was a great invention!). You see, I also have latin blood in me. My grandfather was Italian. This explains a lot about me, as you may have guessed!

Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about food and to mess around with the bard's timeless words, I say that 'Food is the Music of Love'. For starters, I find that music gets in the way of eating. My son-in-law, (the smart alec who thinks he is amusing), he insists on putting on music when I am eating my nosh. How can I concentrate on my din-dins, when there is a racket of a din in the background. I prefer the silence broken only by the sound of my satisfied slurps. (aliteration, what next? Correct spelling? I prefer grammatical correctness to political correctness!).
Moreover, my friends, I find that music gets in the way of wooing a lady. By the time you find something to listen to that you both agree on, the moment is past. Any rate, you can't exactly smooch to Lady Gaga, and Barry White is a bit single entendre! For a time, I used to regale my lady guest with some romantic ballads on the 'joanna'. Sadly, this led to the noise abatement order the neighbours got. Everyone's a critic. It was either that or an 'asbo'. I could have been in the Guinness Book of Records as the most geriatric ASBO holder in the UK. Never mind!
No, cooking is the new rock 'n roll. Only one thing I can't eat and that's spinach. Well, I'm not Popeye, although I have his muscles and I love 'Olive Oil'. Boom boom! My wife was a great cook. I loved her and her food. I'm no Jamie Oliver, which is probably a good thing, as I don't really want to cook in the buff. It's gets draughty around the trossachs. I'll leave the whole 'naked' thing to Jamie, although, if you come round to my place and you are a lady, feel free to cook up something in the nip!
Anyway, I have been lured back into the kitchen by Nigella. She and I enjoy our food and are very adventurous in the kitchen, and, no doubt, in other rooms too! She, the sainted chef, has inspired me in many ways, some of them are even culinary! She has the same recipe for life as I do. Enjoy everything to the full, even if it involves a load of cream and saturated fats!
One minor hitch for me, though, is following recipes. I'm ok with the cooking part, but the recipes are a closed book! I have admittedly burnt the ass out of a number of pots, but that is inattention, mostly due to watching Nigella when I should have minding the stove. Things get overheated when she is around! I tried one of the recipes from my daughter's cookbook the other day. I had everything in the pot and then it said 'season'. Well, I rang my daughter for an explanation. She sounded bemused and asked if I hadn't heard the term before. Apparently, it's salt and pepper. I didn't know. I'm not f-ing Gordon Ramsey,am I?

Did I tell you my checklist for deciding if I should chat up a lady? Well, firstly, she must be stunning. Secondly, she must fancy me, but that's automatically the case. Thirdly, she has to be significantly younger than my daughter, so that she can keep up with me, when we go clubbing and such like! You ask about the age difference? Well, I always say, 'If she dies, she dies!' For some reason my daughter gives me black looks, when I mention this and mutters things under her breath. Now that I have the hearing aids, I might be able to translate her murmuring. What do you think? As I said to her the other day, 'If it's not for sale, they shouldn't put it in the shop window!' She seems to have developed a nervous tick recently. Can't think why? It's probably living with that husband of hers!

Well, nearly there for today. Just 2 thoughts. One, if Dubya Bush thinks 'waterboarding' is ok, then I'm against it. If a democracy tolerates torture of prisoners, then God help us all! Secondly, what about Jack and Vera Duckworth from Coronation Street. Tears flowed. No doubt my dear wife will come for me some day. I hope nobody has told her what I have been up to! Don't you tell her for goodness sake! Off to cook up another storm of a meal. Wish me luck!

Yours romantically yet with a hint of spice

The blogging Gogfather

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Friday, 5 November 2010

Mr William is a 'Dizzy Lizzy' today!

From left to right: Bill Clinton, George H. W....Image via Wikipedia
 Fizzling 'Guy Fawkes' Friday to you, dear Reader,
You know, my only problem as I reach the zenith of my sparkling life is that I am running out of time and occasionally, in the autumn of my physical powers, I can't quite keep up. Although I am having a whale of a time, I can't compete with the incredible Berlusconi. Not even Bill Clinton can hold a candle to Senor B., who, allegedly(My nervous lawyer asked me to bung that in. He wasn't on the nerve pills till he met me. Do you think the two events were connected?), yes, Senor B. has the young ladies queuing up to attend to his every need? Naturally, we normal mortals are not jealous. Stephen Fry is definitely not jealous. He reckons women don't enjoy the 'other'. Well, Stephen, we love you dearly, but that is just so wrong on so many levels! Anyway, who said I was normal and what is normal?

Thing is , I have so much going on that I get dizzy, so please forgive me if I don't stick to the point. (What do you mean I never do?) Well, what can I tell you? Firstly, my new phone died. At least, I thought it had until my pain-in-the-neck son-in-law showed me where the on-off button was. It keeps him happy-makes him feel clever. I only have my phone for emergencies, but what should I do if my phone needs an ambulance? Then the roofing guy was working next door and he had the cheek to tell me I had a few slates loose. Is there no respect for senior citizens? To follow that, my car tax disc fell off. A smart alec policeman told me I would have to stick it on properly or get a fine next time. I was tempted to tell him where he could stick it!

Nevertheless, dear reader, I am not daunted and take all these things with a 'widdecombe' of salt.(Had to get the 'Widdy' woman in somewhere, since she is proving that personality is winning over talent in Strictly Come Dancing) Anyway, for me, the day gets most exciting when 'Deal or No Deal' comes on-not because of irritating Noel 'Know-all' Edmonds, but because I then start my first sherbit of the day. Noel believes in 'cosmic ordering' or some such. Well, I don't know which cosmos he is ordering, but I am darn sure it's not this one!

Now that my hearing aids are working (The 'ear guy' had to order in special ones, as my ears apparently don't conform to EU standards), I can hear everything Noel says. Well, let's just say he is getting by with a 'widdycombe' of talent! By the way, the ear man told me to wear my aids as much as poss, but I don't want anyone to see them, so I only wear them in bed or to watch tv, although I find it better to remove them for the tv viewing pleasure. Talking about pleasure, the government want us seniors to get 'surfing on a net or web' or something asap. Well, I wasn't interested till I heard that there are one or two sporting ladies on this web thing, who are scantily clad. I perked up my non standard ears then and have enrolled for a few lessons. Apparently, the first lesson is training a mouse. Maybe, it's some sort of role play. I'll let you know!

Any rate, a quick scan of my paper tells me that Cameron is cozying up to Sarkozy. Better than Blair blowing his legacy with Bush! I also see that the Middletons are being trained up to fit in with the Royals. Bizarrely, the first lesson is how to mow down one of God's innocent creatures. Don't say, I can't do political satire. My lawyer, who, as we speak, is making a valium sandwich, says I should leave it there. He has no cahones. Anyway, as you know, I have a great relationship with Her Majesty. She is so looking forward to presenting my congrats card at 100. I can just picture the scene in Buckingham Palace. We have just got to port and cigars, and, in deference to 'her Maj Lizzy', I step out onto the balcony, to avoid blowing smoke in the royal physog.

Suddenly, my moment has arrived. I blow a smoke ring and give the assembled tourists what I have always wanted to give them, yes, the Churchill 2-finger salute. They can put that in their pipes and smoke it! Does it get any better for a grumpy ol' git (Gog)?
Any rate, that's for another day, I'm getting behind with my sherbits. I don't even feel dizzy yet, well no dizzier than usual! Cheers!
Yours directly if a little unsteadily

The blogging Gogfather!

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