Thursday, 24 May 2012

Recipe, Noddy Holder and new nomenclature.

I was watching teevers the other day and Noddy Holder came on (presenting some arts prog. concerning heavy metal) and, as I watched it, I thought: 'cor, you don't half remind me of someone else.'  And then it occured to me.

So, here is Noddy Holder:



And here is his doppelganger:


Yes, Margaret Rutherford!!  How did that happen?  Do you reckon they might be related?  Or do lots of old geezers start looking like Margaret Rutherford?  I might send a letter to Richard Dawkins, mebbes he can explain it.  Weird one.

Anyhow.  So much for hiding out in casa cos of Melvis's court case: it's only been shoved back in the pile (apparently the courts have got a lot of stabbed kids and dead pensioners and such pending) and now won't go to court for another month.  So, me and Man Friday were hiding in casa for abso nothing - typical!  And, to add insult to injury, he's started peeing in the bath again and it's currently dripping down thru my bathroom ceiling.  I'm not being rotten (cos he's totally rip, bong, giddely dee) but for crying out loud - the khazi is only 2 feet away from the bath.  Ah well.


Good old Chance (of chantscottage.blogspot.co.uk) actually made a proper recipe of my fave grub (egg with an anchovy).  I didn't know it was possible.  You really ought to go to her site for a gander, she bloody makes me laugh.  Though, I must say, her's looks 8 million times more better than mine.  So, I thought I'd spread my cunning method of making ertsatz Ben and Jerry's.

Buy tub of cheap vanilla ice cream (I mean cheap)
Buy packet of bourbon biscuits (I mean cheap)
Buy jar of Dulce de Leche (unfortu, it doesn't come cheap - it's sort of floppy caramel stuff in a jar)

Scrunch up bourbons.
Bung ice cream, bourbons and Dulce de Leche (not too much, it's doesn't grow on trees, you know!) into big bowl.
Stir it up a bit.
Bung it back in ice cream tub.
Bung ice cream tub back in freezer.
Eat.

Totally tastes like B&J's and costs 57 thousand times less - bargain.  Tip: if any kids are around, just put it in a dish and tell 'em it's B&J's - I do like kids but they can't tell their arses from their elbows and are easily fooled.

Oh.  English has been evolved in casa.  MF and me were watching Star Trek and Mr. Data was at the steering wheel and everything was going wrong.  The captain's jumping up and down saying something along the lines of: 'Do something, Mutley!' and suddenly the ship goes all lurchey and everyone falls over. 
Capt says: 'What happened Mr. Data?'  And Mr. Data gets a pained looked on his face.  He says: 'Sorry, Capt.  I just had to vent some drive plasma.'

And mebbes you had to be there at the time, but it didn't half sound like a euphemism for: 'Sorry, I farted.'

Now, me and MF are constantly saying: 'Oops, sorry, just vented some drive plasma,' and making ourselves laugh like absolute cretins.

It doesn't take much...

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Cabin Fever Reveals 'Stupidest thing I did as a kid.'

Me and Man Friday have been stuck in the flat for a few days cos Melvis's court-hearing is today!!  He has been badgering MF like mad to be a 'character witness' in his defence!  I mean, what could he say?  'Oh, I've known my neighbour Melvis Valentine for four years.  During this time he punched the indian bloke (from the off-licence) calling him 'paki bastard'.  He also threw a large bucket of pee and poo over the workers at the local council offices.  Then he 'kidnapped' a council workman who had come to repair his door (cos it had been kicked in by the police).  Mr Valentine constantly asks me for money/beer/fags; he pees in his bath and cos there is a leak under said bath, the pee eventually seeps thru my own ceiling; he makes loads of racket.  All this said, however, he is quite jolly."

I ask you - how would that do any good.

Anyhow the court hearing is to determine whether the council are allowed to bung Melvis out on his ear for, well, basically driving them to distraction.

Therefore, MF bought in a week's worth of supplies and we have been keeping our heads down.  As you might imagine, we've gotten a bit on the 'cabin fever' side of things.

Just now, we were discussing: 'what was the stupidest thing you did as a child?'.

I said: 'When I was 13, my mum sent me to buy a pint of milk.  It was Sunday and the shop was miles off and it was raining a bit.  So, I walked a few houses along the road and nicked a pint of milk off some poor buggers door step.  I felt more and more guilty as the day went on and told my step-father what I had done.  I begged him not to tell my mum and he totally promised as long as I never did it again.  What total little George Washington tit, I was!  Step-father immediately went and dobbed me into Mummy, she came charging downstairs, screamed and shouted and got in some really severe whacks with a salad spoon.'

MF said: 'When I was about 8 and my brother was about six, we used to have a bath together and we always took toys into the bath with us to muck about with.  One time, I brought an empty plastic lemonade bottle in with me to pour over my brother.  Then, for some unknown reason, I squeezed the air out of the bottle and held it over my penis.  Of course, my willy started getting stuck in the bottle neck and being pulled down into the bottle.  I jumped out of the bath with the bottle stuck on my willy and a bath towel covering the lot and got a sharp knife out of the kitchen drawer.  My mum shouted out: 'What's going on?'  and came in the kitchen, to see me stabbing my self in the meat and two veg with a vegetable knife.  She rushed over, the towel fell off to reveal that I was, in fact, trying to stab a hole in the lemonade bottle to free the old dongler.  Then my brother came in, wearing a bathrobe, my dad came in from the garden and a neighbour shouted out: 'Is everyone alright in there?'.  My dad shouted back: 'Einstein's got his dick stuck in a bottle.''

I really, really wasn't expecting that story.

Saturday, 12 May 2012

My Mate's Book!!! And: We have company...

Time for a bit of the old name-dropping...

My good mate, Geoff Wilson, has only got his novel out in paperback!!!!  Am not, of course, one bit jealous (lies, lies and more lies!) - I'm bigger than that (even more lies!).

No, really.  It's really true, I actually know a bona fide author who works really hard everyday (unlike me) and does research in the British Library (unlike me), and doesn't have to stop at 4pm every day to watch original Star Trek with Cpt. Kirk et al.

The above reasons are why Geoff has now got his book out in paperback - graft!!!  Plus plenty of the old talent (hard-working, talented: I hate him sooo much!  Nah, only kidding...no, I hate him....no, only kidding!



It's one of those alternative history jobs: India invades, conquers and colonises England!!  Totally cool premise (wish I thought of it!).  The protagonist bloke works for the Indian Rajas (used to be in their army, bit like the Sikhs, I suppose, used to be in our army), he's a sort of head of security on a rich Indian bloke's estate.  Anyhoo, his best mate and his daughter muck the whole think up by starting a rebellion against the Indians (trust your own relatives to tip the apple cart).  Then, the daughter only gets herself captured and is sentenced to death (typical!).  So, our hero has to go save her.

Best part, I reckon, is the steam-powered machines of war that the Indians use for fighting; a bit like the Nautilus in 20k Leagues Under the Sea.  Oh, and the Indians use this mystical sort of yogic based magic (the fat cheats!) but our hero starts to learn some of the tricks of the trade as he goes along - so ner!

LoHG is the first book in a trilogy (Geoff's written the 2nd one, prob. published end of this year) and this is SO going to be a film (you heard it here first!).

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Land-Hope-Glory-Geoffrey-Wilson/dp/1444721100/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1336850185&sr=8-1

The above link should take you to the section where you can have a gander at the book.  It really deserves a read, I bloody loved it (whilst sticking pins into a voodoo doll of Geoff!!); it's one of those 'good old romp' books, you know?  Where stuff keeps happening?  Instead of someone staring at a mantelpiece for 200 pages and remembering a tea-party in 1927?  Nah, LoHG is more of a 'punch, bang, argh, oh my gawd, what the bloody hell, run, hide, shoot the bugger,' sort of book - thank heavens!!


COMPANY

Last night, Man Friday runs into kitchen, goes to cupboard under the sink and starts Febrezing his trousers.  I said: 'We got company coming?'.  He goes: 'Yep, can I borrow yr deodorant, mine's run out?'

Now, as you might gather, me and M.F. have been slobbing around the house all day long - I was still in my ruddy pajamas (and it was far too early to pretend that I was just off to bed!).  So, I was just on the verge of leaping (well, heaving meself) off the sofa to give the bathroom the once over, when I had a brainwave.  I said: 'Who's coming?'  And M.F. said: 'James is popping over.'  So, I immediately laid back on the sofa and got M.F. to spray Channel No.5 over me.

Odd really.  If my girlfriends are coming over, the first thing I do is to overhaul the bathroom, then the kitchen, then I spray the dog (with Fid-eau), sweep up and spray the hallway with Channel No.5.  Weird one.

Just to say: I don't know anyone else who Febrezes themselves.

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Irony!

Just a quick note.  Was reading Northsider Dave's blog (excellent geezer who owns a little farm in Ireland) and when I posted a comment to him, the computer goes to me: 'Please prove that you're not a robot' - and then I have to type in two weird, wobbly words.  I tell you, for two pins, I would've typed in: 'How bloody dare you, Hal!' - cheeky bloody thing.

I type in the words 'Orvid Eldish'; I may re-name myself thus.

Yrs,

Orvid Eldish

p.s.  The awful Nita's kid, Norris, who had to go hearing specialist cos Nita thought he was deaf is now having to go a Educational Psychologist for the 'once over'.  I would feel sorry for poor Norris, if only he hadn't been one of the kids who threw that pebble at me.

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Ho! Vtz saga continues (a bit)

Latest from Mrs Labradoodle via Evie (upstairs from Vtz and Mrza) is that he never spent the money for a fruit and veg stall, but an entire shop!  So, obvi there was far more dough involved hence the flying visit from the Transylvanian brother.

Man Friday saw Mrza up at Tesco's today and she didn't look happy, not one bit!

And Melvis (who always seems to be hanging around the Magistrates Court, sort of a home away from home) said the brothers weren't on today's list for appearance before the judge.  I tell you, if he isn't up the bookies, he's up the Magistrates - in a different life he could've been an MP or a lawyer.

Oh yes, bit of bad news on the Fr. Piot front.  Some of his parishioners who are 'helping' him around the area took him on the tube, for a visit to Westminster Abbey.  I'm not a religious expert but I'm sure it's not a Catholic church.  Anyway, turns out he'd never been on a tube train before (when his scrap of paper said: '...I am from Lithuanian country...' it actually meant 'countryside') and when I looked the place up on Google it looks like a very horse and cart sort of place esp. in the countryside.  So, he was all nervous going there, the escalator nearly caused him a mischief, what with never having been on one and his long robes.

However, he got there and calmed down a bit but on the way back he had a panic attack and him and about 4 old girls (who meant well, bless him) were stuck on the tube going back and fore for ages cos Fr. Piot couldn't get up the nerve to get out of the carriage!  Luckily, someone had a paper bag from an old quarter of nut brittle and that seemed to calm him down and they got him back to the priesty house place and the housekeeper told them all off!!

Oh yes, I found fox poo in the garden today - I thought I saw the little bugger climbing over the fence the other night.  And there's me thinking: 'ah, so cute,' and then he does a shit in me garden, the ingrate.  So not only content with rusing stupid lying puppets and stupid uppity ducks, they're now picking on me.  Connie Brix is no help, probably inviting 'em over, just to get me...

Monday, 7 May 2012

Vtz locks himself in the bathroom

Sorry, such slack bloggage from me, am worst blogger in the universe.

Anyway, we've had a bit of excitement round these parts.  A bloke called Vtz (dunno how you spell it, but that's how it sounds!) lives down the other end of our Stalag.  All I really knew about him was that he was called Vtz and had huge eyebrows.  His wife, Mrza (don't ask me!) works part time in Tescos: she is a very nice, very circular woman who ends every conversation with: 'Yes, yes, very good.'  I.e. 'I think you gave me the wrong change,' and she says: 'Yes, yes, very good, goodbye. Next!'

So, about 10 days back, Man Friday comes in circa 10pm at nacht (having just taken Connie Brix for a drag around the estate) and he says: 'Vtz has locked himself in the bathroom - there's a right old to-do outside.'

Well, that was enough for me.  I go straight out and immediately meet up with Melvis who says: 'Cor, that dick Vtz has locked himself in the khazi.'  And we both head up to the other end of the flats.  On the way, the nice lady with the labradoodle comes running up to us and says: 'Oh, I just heard from the lady who lives above Mrza that Vtz has gotten locked in the loo.'  So, we've got conflicting versions of events.

However, when we get to his block there's a crowd outside (well, about 3 people plus dogs).  Mrs Labradoodle goes inside cos she knows the lady who lives above Vtz and Mrza.  So Melvis holds her dog and then he can't stop himself (you know Melvis) and he says: 'Can you hold onto Lally - I'm going up there to render assistance.'  Well, he never actually said 'render assistance', it was more along the lines of 'sort the **** out.'

So, there's me hanging onto Lally (who is probably at least as tall as my waist) and it's dark out (and I haven't got any night vision), so I let the dog drag me over to the grass and I sit down on the kerb and hang onto her for dear life - bloody Melvis.

Thank god Lally's mum comes back down and rescues me in no time.  She says: 'Oh, my friend Evie upstairs is having to let Mrza and Erik (her son) use her loo but, ' she whispered, 'only to do Number 1s.'  Which is understandable.

Apparently, for some reason unknown to Mrza and Erik (and everyone else), Vtz had indeed locked himself in the khazi and wouldn't come out or, more to the point, let anyone else in (which really is a bit rich).  Turned out he started screaming and hitting himself on the head, then ran in the loo, locked the door and started crying and hasn't stopped since.

Lally's mum said that Melvis was in their house now and arguing with Mrza about kicking her door in i.e. Melvis wanted to do it to save Vtz and Mrza was worried that the door would crash into Vtz and kill him(it is a really small bathroom).

So, it goes on for a full night and a full day and then (so it is written...)  Mrza calls Vtz's brother for advice.

This is when it gets a bit interesting...

Vtz's brother immediately gets on a aeroplane from (dun, dun, dun!!!) TRANSYLVANIA!!!!!!  (Turns out they are all Transylvanian - I didn't even know it was a 'real' place!)

So, now it's been two nights and one morning and a mini-cab turns up, a huge angy geezer gets out and rings on Mrza's bell and he's shouting and obvi it's the brother(!), so Man Friday comes running in and tells me the news.  Of course, we have to immediately go and do the recycling and turns out so do about 4 or 5 others including Mrs Labradoodle and the giant Lally.

We hear some shouting coming from the right storey, but it's all in Transylvanian (we presume), so it's all a bit hopeless and we all trickle off.

Later that night...the police turn up outside Vtz's and Mrza's!  And they bring out Vtz and his brother in handcuffs (this was all reported to me by Melvis - who doesn't half ham stuff up) and they're all shouting and screaming and they've obviously been in a severe punch-up with lots of blood and gore and such.  And they get whisked up the cop shop.

I didn't hear the full story till a few days later when Mrs Labradoodle heard it from Evie (upstairs from Mrza) when Mrza came round to give her a bottle of vodka to say thanks for being a good mate and letting her use the loo so much.

Turns out...Vtz's brother sent Vtz the seed money to open a fruit and veg stall.  Vtz (unbeknowst to anyone) spent all the money playing online roulette!!!!  Vtz's brother goes raving mad, comes over, kicks the khazi door in, kicks Vtz's head in(!), Mrza and Erik run up to Evie who calls the old Bill and they come and arrest 'em!

Will let you know when I hear more.

Make you laugh: Man Friday was watching some apocalyptic type film, where aliens blow up all famous landmarks (I don't know why either).  So, I'm sitting in the front room watching the elections and he shouts in: 'Here, Cal, where's the sixteenth chapel?'  So I say: 'The what?' and he says: 'You know, the pointy finger bloke on the ceiling.'  So, it comes to me (god knows from where!) and I say: 'Do you mean the Sistine chapel?' and MF says (reasonably enough): 'I don't know.   Don't you mean the sixteenth chapel? '  I go in the bedroom and (on the telly) the Vatican's taking a pounding, so I say: 'No, it's definately the Sistine chapel.'  And I go back in the front room.  Then he shouts to me: 'So where is it then?'  So I say: 'It's in the Vatican.'  And MF says: 'Oh.'  And two minutes later he shouts out: 'So where exactly is the Vatican?'