Mr William 'buys in' to 'cold calls' and gets 'fingers burnt'!

Good Morrow dear and sublimely tasteful reader,



I’m a bit dizzy today. It might be my ‘vertical hold’ or something, like my old black and white TV, or even blocked-up cocksicks or whatever. I’m not an actual doc, so I don’t know for sure. What I do know for sure is that a combination of the fine weather, the Royal ‘Knees Up’ and my own local affairs has knocked me off kilter!

Never mind anything else, it is very distracting round here--one dry day and all the ladies are out in ‘their figure’ as we say. Let’s say it leaves virtually nothing to the imagination; normally, that’s what I rely on. We have a good sense of humour here in ‘Norn Irn’. Mind you, it has a touch of the ‘gallows’ about it. Irony is that no one gets hanged, no matter what they do! Anyway, on the bright side, I like Terry Wogan’s quip that “people with gynormous wide-screen TVs don’t seem to be able to afford living-room curtains”! Nice one, Tel!



My local affairs? Well, an item appeared on my bank statement, which meant diddlysquat to me. Took days to sort out and I’m no wiser now. (No comments, please! I can read your minds.) Some people obviously think I’m Mr Gullible from ‘Gullible’s Travails’! The bank that likes to say ‘yes’ said they had no idea. Obviously, they like to say yes to every to every Tom, Dick Turpin and Harry who asks for my money! I finally found the ‘culprit’. It was legit, but a service I no longer need, and before you speculate, it was neither my subscription to Mensa nor my standing order for viagra. I never have had need of either. You can work that through yourselves. Getting on, I rang the firm and instead of cancelling my payment arrangement, they sold me something else. So, that’s all sorted. I’m certainly not going to be duped twice, although my smarmy son-in-law says I would buy from every passing, ‘cold-hearted-calling’ tinker on the phone. Who does he think he is, Mr Money-Expert.com or something?



Any road, the ‘PeepMobile’ went through the ‘MOT’ with flying colours; the colour is mostly bright red and I do the flying. Parp, parp! To celebrate, I went to the shopping centre and bought a book about a lady spy. Got it in the ‘Pound’ shop. I can spot a bargain. I heard that people were trying to get a ‘cash back’ from Iceland recently. So, I went to my local store and they looked amused and bemused! By the way, bumped into the lady whose hubby is ‘up the Amazon’. She has a habit of putting her face up to mine when she’s speaking. It gives me the willies. I’m gonna snog her if she does that next time. Wish me luck?!



What about the Royal Wedding bash? Bashful Kate, now the Duchess of Cambridge. Lovely. Congrats to them! I bawled my lamps out ‘til a few amusing things occurred to me. Firstly, the egregious amount of Wedding tat. You had to have ‘Wedding fever’ to buy the stuff! Then there was the advance announcement that stalkers or anyone ‘suss’ would be lifted ‘suss’ style, just in case. I worried about ‘Protestant’ clerics, who clearly professionally protest their faith. It would have been a little embarrassing if the ‘Arch Bish’ had been lifted just before the vows. Anyway, if the worry was about peeps acting suspiciously, what about Duke ‘Phil the Greek’? He always needs watching, in case he puts his foot in his mouth! I actually bought a china replica of my pet dog; it’s a ‘King Charles spaniel’. For me, the irony wasn’t lost that my china dog and Prince Charles will both be purely ornamental! Mind you, they’re both well house-trained!



Personally, the best fun for me about the wedding came from some of the supporting players. There was the funster-munster Prince ‘I’m always up for a larrf!’ Harry. While William looked regal in bearing and was no ‘slouch’, Harry slouched about and then nipped into Edward the Confessor’s Crypt for the signing with Pippa, Kate’s sister. I wondered if he had anything to confess after, as he and she emerged pink-cheeked. Just my overdeveloped imagination? Noticed the Foreign Secretary’s wife FFFFion arrived with a leg plaster, being propelled in a wheelchair. What a trooper? No, not her, the soldier who was pushing her. Bet she didn’t get that injury in the ‘front-line’ of duty in Afghanistan! Cameron, the toff, who is trying to kid us he isn’t, encouraged us all to have street parties. Maybe he was trying to prepare us for being made homeless after the cuts?



Any rate, at least Tone Blair and Cherie weren’t invited, although it is ironic that Kate’s uncle from Ibiza and her local pub landlord, together with the crowned heads of some dodgy regimes were. It all gets a bit odd. Anyway, Elton was there. I wondered how the baby was going to get its breast milk. Maybe he expressed some from the ol’ ‘moobs’, before he left? By the way, is it only me that wants someone to call out, “I do.” when the exalted rev. asks if anyone has any just cause or impediment and then asks them to ‘hold their piece’? Strange, yet always leads to a pregnant pause. Yes, that will be the next of it; ‘constipating’ the marriage and offspring. Did you wonder with me if Kate’s first regal act was to get out of that dress and exercise the privilege of the Royal ‘wee’? Well, you would have after all that! Main thing, though, the day went off without a ‘hitch’ except the intended one! Romance and the Royal brand are alive and well. Great. I still remember, by the way, the feeling of walking past Buckingham Palace on VE Day in my Ghurkha officer’s uniform and being saluted by the guardsmen. What a feeling and what an honour! Yesterday brought it all back, those feelings of joy, pride, optimism and romance. I’ll stop before I bawl again.



Before I dash, I nearly had a connery the other day. Michael Palin was on TV. Thought he said he’d just made a 4-parter “Exotic series on ‘bras’! Sadly, it was Brazil, but I’ll look in anyway. See they’re dumping ‘Best Before’ dates on food; maybe that will stop the wags (Not the chavvy footie ones) who say I have passed mine! Yes, I’m off to the post office as I heard on the radio something about a ‘sexual license’ and they were trying to do away with it. So, I’m going to apply before they stop doing them. Hey ho! One more chore to bother about, just to get by as an ol’ geezer! Have a great day! Wonder if that lady spy will be watching me as I drive by? Well, she’s only human and I am a matinee idol!



Yours warmly yet avoiding cold calls,



The Blogging GogFather

(If you are new to my diary, ‘Gog’ stands for ‘Grumpy ol’ geezer or git’. You can choose.)

Image by dragon762w via Flickr

Write text here

Mr William Braces Himself?!

Mr William Braces Himself




Good Morrow, lightly steamed but enlightened Reader,



People jest that I am full of contradictions, as I have many sides to me. I reckon that makes me a multi-faceted diamond. Others proffer the term 'oxymoron', with the emphasis on moron. Charming! Anyway, what's that when it's at home? Never mind, the weather is sunny and every bod (No matter what their shape) is out 'in their figure', as we say in these 'ere parts. Does that mean we are like the USA now and have the right to 'bare' arms? Well, don't know about US, but it's short-term and seasonal here. We leave the other 'arms' to the 'hoods and the cops' and take our chances!



Talking of dodgy situations, I'm involved in a hold-up situation right now. No, reader, don't panic. There are no guns involved--yet! (Who do you think I am, dopey Jim 'So ya err' McDonald from #Corrie?). No, it's my blinkin' trousers again. Now before you start thinking this is an elaborate attempt to explain away an unfortunate misunderstanding in the supermarket recently, then you are so wrong. Don't you know me by now? No, actually, come to think of it, don't answer that!



You see, it's like this; I urgently require a 'lady who does'. (Now you can stop that thought in your head right there. My trouser problem is a serious and potentially life-threatening matter for me!) I mean, I have been overindulging on the spuds and fire-water recently, together with the ol' guy prob of 'ass disappearance'! Stop laughing; it's a known phenomenony type doofer. Ol' lads' butts fade away, but are never forgotten; never mind losing love-handles, I can't see my shoes and I have no continental shelf, like Beyoncé's at the rear to keep the johdpurs at waist level. My bags have been like the 'Dow Jones' recently--yea, up and down like a 'hoor's droors' as they politely say round here. Of course, I wouldn't demean myself to say that, but I'll stick it here in my diary to give you a larf! Also I should stop keeping all my worldly goods in my trouser pockets. I call it my family jewels, but I think people had started to think I was spending too much time handling my 'family jewels', if you catch my drift, and I'm sure you do!



Any road, my lady 'what does', after she got over the initial shock of seeing me constantly fiddling with my fork and seeing gravity take over and me bending over to rearrange my trousers and undercrackers, suggested braces. By the way, I now (Unfortunately) have lived to demonstrate in glorious technicolour the phrase, "Shove it where the sun don't shine!" Very embarrassing, but very witty comment by my normally demure housekeeper. She's great! We have a wonderful understanding; she runs round and does all the work and I chase her and banter her with my ribald humour. It seems to work for us both. I'm sure she'd do it for free; no, not that, the cleaning etc. She'll turn her hand to anything. (Again, it's all in your own minds!) The other day, she helped me erect my line-pole; it was rusty and had been in the garage all winter. I'll leave that there, if you don't mind, along with the clothes swaying in the breeze, when the spring-clean was complete. She also gave the garden and me a 'short back and sides'. Is there no end to this woman's talents? Leave it, before you start suggesting 'Happy Endings' and all that. We're too set in our ways for all that kaffuffle!



Any rate, I needed the braces after the incident in the shopping centre, when I was carrying bags in both hands and could not hold onto my 'breeks' as they drifted to the floor; of course, all captured for posterior, on CCTV and the memory banks of hundreds of horrified shoppers and regrettably two grumpy security men. What is it about minor officials? They looked like I had done it on purpose. I stammered that they could see my embarrassment on my red face. They cheekily said, they might have done, but they were too busy looking at the rest that was on show. I should have worn my 'lucky' undershorts that day, but at least they were freshly laundered by you know who. Thankfully, I got away with a final warning!



Well, you'll be glad to know that the braces have done the job, as long as I literally get the hang of them. My daughter says I look like your man from the 'Wall Street' movie. No, not the doorman--Michael Douglas! (Good luck to him and the missus! We all have our trials, but it's even harder in the public eye; mind you, I could do with some of the wealth). Anyway, the Dow Jones can do what it likes, my trousers are holding up, Gordon Gekko style!



Before I go, did you see Dolly Parton on the box this week? What a gal!

Couple of quickie quotes.."I'm not offended when they call me a dumb blonde, 'cos I ain't dumb and I sure ain't a natural blonde!" Also, "No, I couldn't go into politics, although I was tempted, but there have been too many big 'boobs' in the White House before!"



I'm off now to the shops. Need food and drinks. I'm going on a sea-food diet, instead of my 'See food, eat it' diet. I'm cutting back on the alcohol calories and for all the right reasons, but all this talk about the health risks is 'driving me to drink' Boom,boom. Cheers everyone. At least, I don't smoke. Give it up, if you do. Just think of Liz and Becky in Coronation Street puffing their way to an early grave. I can't be passive to stomaching such a bad influence on young women! Lecture over.



Hope my braces hold up today. Any 'hitch' and those security guys will have my 'family jewels' for pips on their officious peaked caps! Wish me luck?!



Yours anxiously but 'baring' up as per

The blogging Gogfather!

Mr William's Life is still in its Infancy?

Image by ...anna christina... via Flickr

Write text here...

Good Morrow, steamed up Reader,



I may have mentioned to you before that I love life and live it to the full. There’s nothing like a good laugh, when things get hard. (Now if you were tempted there, to add, “As the actress said to the bishop”, then it’s all in your mind, but you’re my kind of reader. If you don’t get it, as many of us don’t, then just ignore me and we’ll move on.)



You see, I try to see the funny side of things. Take my family, and I wish you would sometimes, you may ask how we all get on. Well, I reckon that Einstein was right, ‘cos in families it’s all ‘relative’! My childhood was bizarre at times. We had a dog called Audrey and my mum called it Audrey Hepburn—you know the gorgeous one from ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s—no, the dog and my mum weren’t in the movies, but they should have been. (By the way, do something nice for your mum on Mothers’ Day. My mum was not in the movies, but she was a ‘star’ to me!)

Anyway, leaving sentimentality aside, I would like to say that I’m the only geezer I know who can say that Audrey Hepburn bit his ass on a regular basis! Top that? “Infamy, infamy, she had it ‘in fa me”, as the great Kenneth Williams said.



By the by, I’d like to say that the ass-biting days were behind me, so to speak, but my daughter has insisted on buying an overly curious and loving Cairn terrier and it has taken over from Audrey Hepburn. It heads straight for my ‘family jewels’ every time I visit. The daughter says it’s just a friendly greeting sniff. Well, each to their own, I say, but a man’s private kingdom should be private, don’t you think?



Mind you, getting back to the ol’ childhood in the west of Ireland, we had other creatures to contend with in the menagerie, and I’m not talking about my siblings. We had this cat, and I apologise in advance to all animal lovers and the ‘Elf ‘n Safety brigade, but remember my brother and I were very young and not actually qualified vets. We saw one day that the cat was sick, so we thought a little of dad’s whisky might be helpful to it, purely for medicinal purposes. Well, although the poor thing perked up eventually, in the short term it shot through the roof and was seen circling Mars. Mum decided to get in a proper vet, but we learnt a valuable lesson that day. Yes, if you want to go through the ceiling and circle Mars, then whisky your man! Remember, treat alcohol with respect. I treat it with the respect it deserves on a regular basis! (Do, of course, reader, bear in mind, I’m using my fully up to date poetic licence to make you laugh, not adjust your moral compass.)

Did I mention I’m 86? Thing is, it’s an average thing. You see, I’m 60 from the waist up and 90 in the trousers area. I think the whisky doesn’t get as far as my legs, due to the ol’ circulation—or maybe it’s the other way round!

Any road, I forgot to tell you what we did with our food as children. How we ever grew up, I don’t know. Maybe I never did. Well, we sat at table and thought it highly amusing to shove all our nosh through the holes in the floorboards. I’m sure the mice in the cellar had a field day. They should honour me with a medal or something. Although that reminds me of some ‘decorated’ soldiers I have met. We spied loads of ‘cookey’ retired Colonel types. Some would get drunk and drive horses and carts like chariots at full pelt up our main street, and that was a quiet day. One accidentally peppered his wife’s ass with a shotgun, after a few snifters. Can you imagine explaining that one down in the ‘Emergency Room’?



Well, as you can see, my youth was eventful, but I still managed to get educated and became an army officer in India. (No, it wasn’t because they were desperate; well, not in that sense. Like my hero, Leslie Phillips, I was a pretty good officer.) Thing is, I can only remember the funny bits now, like the frequent times local ‘spivs’ would approach you with the equivalent of a dirty Mac and offer you a copy of ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’. They always said, “Lots of rude bits, sahib”. It makes me chuckle now how innocent we all were in many ways. I only have 3 regrets now about India. The things I didn’t manage to bring home; my priceless ‘kukri’ Ghurkha sword, that little Burmese young lady and my copy of ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’! Don’t ask me what happened to them! I think they call it the ‘fog of war’. By the way, I’m still foggy on Gaddafi and Libya. Is the mission to bomb him into accepting a luxury villa in exile or am I missing something? (Unlike the Coalition ‘smart’ bombs?)



Anyway, got to go now and fill out my ‘Censeless’ form. They are very nosy. They want to know who was staying over at my gaff on the 27 March. I’ll say, “No-one but willing to consider any reasonable offer”! One of my ‘ladies’ at the shopping centre is still considering my offer to take her up the Khyber Pass, since her husband is down in the South Pole. Saw her the other day and she was talking to a lady friend. She studiously held up her handbag to cover her face. It’s obvious—she doesn’t want me to meet her friend and make her a once in a lifetime offer instead. She’s only human, after all! Before I go, a word to the wise. If you are a ‘twitcher’ like me, you know a ‘bird fancier’ ( The feathered variety, unless you are at the ‘Moulin Rouge’-better not go there). Well, normally they can’t ‘touch you for it’, but you have to be circumcised in what you say. I was at the duck pond, staring through my binoculars and I spied 2 swans attacking a small dirty coloured duck. I suddenly and innocently shouted, “Would you look at that great white pair having a real go at that dirty wee duck!” Personally, I don’t where the misunderstanding arose, but the park keeper said I was on my last warning. Hay- ho! Keep smiling and remember God loves you and so do I, even though I’m a ‘gog’ (Grumpy ol’ git)



Yours almost truly but always with youthful exuberance



The blogging Gogfather