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Friday 9 November 2007
Football Match - Part 1/3
…………………Hello
The other night I went to Dreary Lane Stadium, home of Dulstead Oblivion Football Club, to watch the football match
between Dulstead and Woolwich Asbos United. Dulstead were languishing at the foot of J & L Coaches Southern League
2nd Division and desperately needed to pick up three points. Actually they needed to complete a home game without
it being abandoned, which has been the case in every home fixture this season.
Conditions and prospects were gloomy as the rain turned from a powdery mist to a sustained downpour.
The pitch looked soggy and uneven. Being laid over a medieval burial ground, the surface is slightly bumpy
and the ancient headstones sometimes prove hazardous to players' ankles. The floodlights sparked and flickered ominously
as the Public Address announcement confirmed the team line-up. It transpired that Oblivion were without Jenkinson,
their goalkeeper, who was still missing after the last away game at Broadmoor Rovers.
A substitute was found in the shape of seventeen year old Tyrone Jenkinson, who would take his father's position
between the posts. This portly youth is an exciting prospect for Oblivion. He signed a twelve month contract
in the changing room before the match, and was given an advance on his half time orange.
The crowd consisted of the programme seller and myself. It was good to see the attendance numbers rise
from the last home game, at which I was not present. The Woolwich supporter arrived late because he'd been selling
home-made lighter fluid to the youngsters in the adjacent supermarket car park.
To be continued . . .
Monday 5 November 2007
…………………Hello
This summer’s inclement weather, which caused so much damage across the country, reminded me of the flooding which London has
encountered over the years. The last time central London flooded was in 1928 when the Thames spilled over the Embankment walls and
fourteen people were drowned.
London’s most bizarre flood occurred in 1814, when the area around the junction of Oxford Street and the Tottenham Court Road
was hit by a damaging deluge of beer. Over a million litres of fermenting alcohol exploded from the decrepit vats of the
Horseshoe brewery and surged through the neighbouring slums. Buildings were destroyed as a result of the torrential tide of tipple,
and nine lives were lost. The area stank of booze for the next six weeks as desperate parishioners attempted to soak up as much of
the dirtied drink as possible. The incident was an Act of God: to some it was a disaster; to others, a miracle.
Are you aware that there is a way to tell if London is in danger of flooding? Look at the Lionhead mooring rings along the Embankment
of the River Thames. If the water level is up to the lion’s mouth then a flood is imminent.
‘When the lions drink, London will sink
When it’s up to their manes, we’ll go down the drains
When the water is sucked, you can be sure we’re all ... in trouble’
Friday 2 November 2007
…………………Hello
During these dark days of winter I recall the summer afternoon during which I attended the Lambeth Country show in Brockwell Park.
The two day event is a curious mixture of falconry displays, sheepdog trials, handicraft stalls and reggae music.
I arrived at the same time as three gentlemen from the Royal Artillery Parachute Display Team. They had come by aeroplane, I by 159 bus.
I thought that my entry, while less exciting, was more dignified.
I watched lunatics in customised Minis tearing up the soggy turf and then a found a vulture from the Impact Falconry Display,
who was staring with interest at an elderly lady.
Then I visited the cider tent.
The St John’s Ambulance people were very kind and provided me with Epsom salts and cold buckets of water.
I revived my spirits by winning a jigsaw and a Travel Cluedo on the air-scout tombola and then I gave blood at the give blood stall.
Give blood.
Friday 26 October 2007
…………………Hello
I have just arranged my annual holiday. I booked it through E.H Grimway’s Funeral Directors and Travel Agency,
“For a traditional bucket and spade outing”.
They organised my trip to the Westmoor peat bogs in 1987 and this year I thought I might head for a more exotic destination.
I will be visiting the island of Sycopanthos. The island has a hotel, an airport and a volcano. Here is a copy of the itinerary
that the Agent sent me:-
Holiday Itinerary for Mr F. W. Strangebone
o Land at the Airport*
o Stay in the hotel
o Visit the Volcano
*Sycopanthos airport is being closed down and customers must make their own return travel arrangements.
I have packed my bag which contains flight tickets and passport for the airport, a reservation number for the hotel and a
camera to take a picture of the volcano. It promises to be an exciting leisure break. I just wish I’d booked more than three weeks
Monday 22 October 2007
…………………Hello
One day during the summer I adjourned to my local park for the purpose of recreation. The atmosphere was serene and peaceful
save for the police helicopters and machine-gun fire. As the sun seared against my pale flesh, I became aware of the fact that I was
sweating. This is not a common personal experience. The last time I perspired was when my wife locked me in my shed and set fire to it.
In addition to the discomfort of sweating, I also suffered third degree burns and the loss of the shed.
This being a British summer it soon started raining. I moved under a tree near the bandstand where there was a diminutive orchestra
from the St Graham’s Hospital for Sick Children. They were playing a selection of tunes by Gloria Estefan and Slipknot. Sadly most of the
musicians were weakened from their illnesses and the unfortunate young lad on euphonium vomited through the horn of his instrument.
They struggled to a second encore and finished with the National Anthem although the conductor had to revive several children with
ammonia in order to make them stand up.
Then I went to feed the ducks who were quite fussy … but then I don’t think they are used to paracetamol.
Are you are aware that London’s parks have a curious history?
Hyde Park contains a secret Pet Cemetery.
Green Park is a former burial ground for victims of leprosy, and has a haunted tree called ‘the tree of death’.
Victoria Park contains stone alcoves which were once on Old London Bridge.
Kennington Park is home to a mass grave. During the Second World War an air raid shelter was dug under it.
The shelter suffered a direct hit killing 100 people. Half of the bodies were not recovered and remain buried there to this day.
Friday 12 October 2007
…………………Hello
My week has been very curious. It began on Sunday evening which is quite common. I presented an evening of silent film
at the Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club. Some of the films were made over one hundred years ago but in accordance with modern
classification guidelines it was necessary for me to warn viewers of the following content:
o Violence - Frequent and strong, and directed mainly towards fat men with moustaches.
o Sex- Graphic glimpses of ladies’ ankles
o Drugs – Moderate images of laudanum-induced fantasy
The evening was a success. Live musical accompaniment was provided by Miss Lilly Henley on Piano, Carmelite on strings,
Mr Paul Barret on musical saw and Andrew Bailey on the electric Eccentrica. Refreshment was provided in the form of rather fancy cake.
The evening reminded me that London has been the setting for many films of the horror genre. For example, the gruesome humour of
‘An American Werewolf in London’; the true account of human evil in ’10 Rillington Place’; and the chilling psychological torture of
‘Love Actually’.
The 10 Rillington Place murders were committed by the landlord of that notorious address between 1940 and 1950. Richard Attenborough
starred in the 1970 film which chronicles the grisly tale. Dickie gives his best as the homicidal necrophiliac Christie.
Are you aware that the film used the actual street for the location shots? After the film was completed the street was demolished,
to prevent weirdos from visiting the site. So you’ll just have to watch the film instead . . . like I did.
Sunday 7 October 2007
…………………Hello
I recently visited Buckingham Palace where I saw the State Apartments and other rooms of the royal residence.
I found a member of staff and asked him where the Queen’s bedroom was. He declined to tell me, and rather physically
requested that in future I should restrict my visits to the period when then Palace is open to the public.
The incident put me in mind of the many occasions when the sovereign’s abode has received uninvited guests.
When Queen Victoria first moved in, young urchins from neighbouring slums would steal into the building and hide in
grandfather clocks before raiding the pantry.
The current Queen has had a number of visitors including:-
- A naked para-glider who landed on the roof
- A protester dressed as Batman who climbed onto a ledge at the front
- A group of German tourists who scaled the garden wall and erected a tent in what they claimed to believe was Hyde Park
But most successful was one Michael Fagan, who, in spite of lacerating his hand, managed to gain access to Her Majesty’s bedchamber.
She was in bed at the time and awoke to find the intruder bleeding over her sheets. Our noble Monarch kept calm and the trespasser
remained in her room for more than ten minutes until he was discovered by a chambermaid. Fagan was taken to hospital and received
psychiatric evaluation. It is said that he received only one visitor, the Duke of Edinburgh … who wanted to know where the Queen’s bedroom was.
Friday 28 September 2007
…………………Hello
This week I witnessed an assault, on the upper deck of a number 159 bus.
A group of boys were happy slapping a young lady. I couldn’t sit back and
watch such a violent spectacle … for very long. So I intervened.
I stood up and walked over the offending boys and told them to consider
the damaging effect that their actions were having on the fabric of society,
and that they should desist from any further similar behaviour. They stopped
what they were doing and alighted at the next stop, and so a potentially
dangerous problem was solved by polite intervention and simple words of
reason. It may have helped that I was naked from the waste down and holding
a pair of pliers.
Are you aware that West London is haunted by a phantom bus? The ghostly
number 7 has been seen travelling at speed in the middle of the road in
the Cambridge Gardens area of North Kensington, without driver or passengers.
The apparition caused the death of a motorist who swerved to avoid it. It
has even soaked witnesses to the bone by splashing through ectoplasmic puddles.
The dreadful double-decker has not been seen since the council straightened
the stretch of road that it haunts. However, you may still bear witness
to a terrifying experience by taking a ride on any one of London's night
buses.
Thursday 27 September 2007
…………………Hello
This Bank holiday was the annual East Dullstead Carnival held every year
in the Streets of Dullstead with a steam fair on Dullstead flats. The carnival
has its origins from the 1840s when natives of Sarongatoa emigrated to Britain
in order to escape the religious persecution blighting their islands. Christian
missionaries were refusing to recognise their sanctified right to practise
cannibalism and so they fled to Victorian London in the belief that there,
they could feast on human flesh without prejudice.
The carnival parade has floats made by Local businesses and education centres.
It features music, cuisine and costume of the South Pacific with oversized
motifs such as femurs and tearing forks which are brandished in the air
as the procession passes through the high Street.
This year’s Carnival Queen was Miss Mabel Tanner who hails originally from
Deptford. Mabel has been in a coma for 53 years and was ‘animated’ on her
processional float by a system of ropes and pulleys operated by the local
scout troop. There youthful dexterity enabled her to drink a pint of Campari
and Gin with her feet – without spillage - whilst blowing into a harmonica.
The condemned funfair on the common was re-opened for the occasion and I
got to ride on the dodgems just like when I was a boy. Except that these
days, there are no cars to sit in. Customers hold a metal pole against an
overhead mesh with a strong electrical charge and convulse until their token
runs out. The skill is to dodge the flailing limbs and bodily fluids discharged
by the other customers.
A Firework display closed the proceedings. The fireworks were displayed
on a trestle table in the town hall for people to file past. They will be
let off on November 5th.
Revelry continued into the night I then danced in the streets to the banging
of a petrol drum and the music of Irene Cara.
Everyone else went home.
Friday 10 August 2007
…………………Hello
I’m writing this web log to bring you comedy, give you an insight into my
private life and tell you about the little known curiosities of London.
I share my thoughts because I’m bored of talking to myself all the time,
even on the telephone.
A typical phone conversation might be;
Me “Fred”
Me “What?”
Me -“Nothing”
Me “No. Go on, what?”
Me “Nothing”
I’ve taken to leaving prank messages pretending to be someone else. Now
my mind will be accessible to the entire world via the internet. On second
thoughts maybe this isn’t a good idea.
