Wednesday, 5 December 2012

Mr William lunched & launched himself on an unsuspecting world!









Dear and doubtless levelheaded reader,

I will surprise you today by starting on a sombre note. That’s because we know that life has its highs and lows. In the midst of life, we are in death. We are aware that death, taxes and Simon Cowell’s massive ego are the only certainties in life. Yet many of us chose to have faith, hope and charity, whether religiously or secularly based. Most of us also choose to seek out the positive and see humour as a redeeming quality rather than just a relieving sedative. Sometimes, though, some things cannot be overlooked or forgotten, even for an ol’ geezer like myself with the memory of a lobotomised goldfish on mind-altering drugs, living purely on a cocktail of meths and pink champagne! (The goldfish, not I. My poison is a cheeky Merlot.) No, one cannot forget the horrors of war and man’s inhumanity to man, but recently I have been shattered to hear of the suicide of a dear young friend. We all struggle with loved ones dying of natural causes, but the loss of a young human being, because she felt she could not go on living is tragic beyond words. Even our vicar is struggling to find the right words to say, if there are any. For me, only deep love for others, prayer and a listening ear will do it, eventually! I know you read my diary for laughs, but life has suffering and joy. We cannot appreciate the light and light heartedness without acknowledging the ‘dark night of the soul’. I dedicate this little offering of life-affirming fun to a family in grief and pray that one day they will smile again.


Please let me lift your spirits and mine by letting you in on ‘peeps world’. Yes, they should name a theme park after me. It’s ‘off the wall’, like those mad motorcycle riders in fairs, but at least in my park there would be a dizzying roller coaster ride guaranteed. I’d have a coconut shy, but mine would be brash. The distorted mirrors would make everyone look gorgeous like yours truly and the fare would be so credit-crunch busting to allow everyone to experience ‘all the fun of the fair’! Fair enough? Any rate, I have another idea for expanding my fame and horizons. I was lunching the other day, as is my ‘Will’ or wont, when I realised that my ‘continental shelf’ was incontinently shifting south. I had tried on three pairs of ‘keks’ (Trousers to you, perhaps?) and all struggled with my equatorial region. The continental shelf has enlarged to an alarming degree and a diet is vital for my vitals. If I don’t take action soon, only a Santa outfit or a romper suit ‘onezie’ will fit my torso! Then it struck me. No, not an irate boyfriend’s fist. It was a good thought. You may mock. Well, you may, but keep it clean! I have to consider the ‘Leveson’ findings and maintain some self-regulation of my musings, while, like PM ‘Camera-on’ avoiding legal underpinning. Wonder how the press will handle Kate’s pregnancy? I wish her well. There’s an ‘heir’ in the air!



Any hoo, back at my diet thought. It’s simple and every other celeb is doing it, so it must be simple. I’m sure little Helen from the ‘jungle’ reality twaddle will make a fitness dvd and a pop video or would they be a pair of ‘boobs’ too far? Yes, my idea is a diet/fitness dvd. You see, everyone needs something after the Christmas blowout has blown us up. So there is my New Year resolution sorted early. What? You’re sceptical about my ability to produce an effective regime? (Have you seen some of the other dvds? Also, have you seen some of the world’s regimes? Take Syria and I wish someone would!) Well, it was actually something the twitty son-in-law said that put this idea in my head, along with my long-term strategy of showing the world what an ass he is. He heard me bemoaning my inability to eat food before it walked off to the dump by itself. It’s not my fault. It’s because I’m 88 and I can’t remember diddly. I go to the shop, see food I like, buy it, come home and find I bought the same stuff the day before. Oops! I then scoff all I can with the results described above, but can’t cope with the high volume, although with my hearing, that’s ironic. Ask my neighbours about my tv! So, the dopey one cheekily suggests the solution is in my own hands. (No, not the Merlot again.) His quip was that I should cut out the middleman and give the shop my food order and ask them to bin it for me or give it to someone whose tummy needs it more than mine. Any rate, at the time, I pretended to be amused and tried hard to get him with a killer comeback. The best I could come up with at short notice was that his ass was so big that when he walked past, peeps thought there was a full eclipse of the sun! Well, he deserves it and ironically, the eclipse thing fits well with his moon face.



So, anyway, I had my ‘eureka’ moment, jumped out of my metaphorical bath, like the great Greek thinker of old, Archie Medes or whatever (They could do with him now in Greece!) and ran, again metaphorically down the street in the nuddy. Well, it had to be metaphorical after that misunderstanding, when I burnt my ass in the bath, leapt out, slipped on a soap bar, saw a large spider and found myself moments later locked out in the corridor, wearing nothing but a smile, which wore thin when the elderly ladies started yelling for the warder/warden. She let me off with a final, final warning. Mind you, she kindly patched up my war wounds, for which she deserved a medal, thankfully not posthumously!


Where was I? Yes, the dvd. (I’m not doing it for ‘the good of my health’, you know! Oh, wait! I am!) Well, the son-in-law says he will produce and direct it, write the script and carefully ‘edit’ the video. Well, that’s all right then, a sure-fire hit? What will I do about the groupies and fan mail? What about the begging letters, you say? Oh, I’ll keep on sending those! Mind you, there was one catch. The son-in-law said that to achieve ‘street cred’, I should go ‘nil by mouth’ for all of 2013. Yeah, right! I think he should say ‘nil by mouth’ for the whole of 2013! Anyway, wish me well on my dvd launch! I’ll have to be careful though, ‘cos my daughter said I might go ‘viral’. Surely not, after all I’ve had my ‘flu jab?


Before I go and squeeze into that leotard I bought in the 80s, when I tried to keep up with Jane Fonda’s video (Barbarella, ella, ella, I think it was called?) and tied myself up in a knot for a week until a contortionist figured out how to untie me, I’ll give you a few thoughts to amuse and muse on. A piano is rightly called a pianoforte, as in life, you need soft and loud, light and shade. As they say in ‘X Factor’, the ‘Song is the Key’. (How to state the bloomin’ obvious?) Did I tell you that at lunch, after grace, I always cry, “Let battle commence!”? My prob is the collateral damage. Mind you, 2 squares of kitchen roll can cover a multitude of sins! By the way, do you lose keys? I reckon they should come fitted with a voice-command device. That’s what I ‘call the key’ to it. Boom, boom! Lady at the wine shop loves my banter..I wish I could ‘bottle’ her sense of humour. She pinched a bottle of whisky out of my trolley to confuse me. It worked, but I just laughed it off, as I didn’t want to ‘scotch’ our friendship! I see ‘bogof’ is to bog off to stop us all being alcos. Probably wise. Once I said to the lady, if it’s ‘buy one, get one free’, just give 5 of the free ones and forget the other ones! I see ‘press freedom’ may also be in the ‘last chance saloon’ after ‘Leveson’? The ‘Times’ will tell, hopefully! Cleaner got rid of my empty bottles last week and I gave her the sack. Well, she needed something to put them in. She tiptoed out like Santa Claus to avoid the attention of my teetotal neighbours.



Incidentally, did I tell you it takes me hours to get ready in the morning? Most of the time is spent on doing up my laces, while standing on one leg at the top of the stairs? What? No, I can’t think of an easier way. I may have to stop shaving to save time. Daughter says I will soon start looking like Santa, if I grow a beard. Ho, ho, ho! You see, I need a bit of cosseting. Maybe my lady what does could do something? No, not that! I mean she could do a time and motion study on my routine. Yes, she has to spoon-feed me. Not literally, well, not yet! By the by, why does time go twice as fast after 6 pm? Do the clocks go onto ‘double time’ then? Why is my coffee always cold now? Yep, it’s ‘cos I knackered the kettle. I burnt me fingers on the steam and then burnt the ass outta the bally thing. Now my fingers and I are all weeping. Say ah!?


My housing peeps wrote to me to tell me I’m now a ‘secure’ tenant. Good, I hope, or am I under house arrest for crimes against literature and nearly burning the place down twice? Mind you, they have punished me with triple glazed windows. I can barely breathe with the heat and will have to just wear the leotard, when I’ve worn it in again! I suppose doing the fitness dvd may help my ol’ friend, ‘Lon Gevity’. I may make it to 110, like the guy in the news. My secret will be wine, women and song, but that petition by interfering neighbours put paid to the singing in the bath. That wasn’t singing. That was me yelling when I had my ‘eureka’ moment! Same difference? At least I mightn’t need the help of a local fish and chip emporium with a sign in the window, “Local defibrillator here”. I nearly had a heart attack laughing at the irony of it. Some final funnies-what about the optician teaching at uni, who liked to ‘see his pupils right’? Is paying a ‘brief’ visit, buying underpants in Marks? I see ‘Camera-on’ needs a ‘prod’ over women bishops-does he have a particular ‘prod’ in mind? I read that JP 2nd’s ‘popemobile’ is now being hired out for stag/hen dos in Dublin. Holy cow! Is nothing sacred? Lastly, readers, is a crazy biker a cyclepath?

Bye for now! Does a leotard have street cred and more importantly, is it flammable?

Yours caringly yet always ready for ‘lift off’,

The blogging Gogfather (Your friendly, neighbourhood grumpy ol’ geezer!)

1 comment:

  1. Did I tell you about my ol' schoolteacher, Dicky Tummy? Well, he had to retire with a stomach ulcer. His parting words were "Que sera, sera!" He was the Italian teacher and had a thing about Doris Day!

    ReplyDelete