The Brooklyn Beckham Balderdash...

                                         

The hound wanted to go out in the early hours, and I couldn’t sleep, so I put on BBC News 24. At that unearthly hour, it becomes the sign zone for deaf folk and features a woman in the right-hand corner of the screen who thinks she can dance. She also rapidly translates the news agenda into Sign Language. Last week, there were horrendous storms in the Lake District, and she had three attempts at Cockermouth before abandoning the process completely.

Fascinating Fact: Many teenagers actually turn into competent drivers. Moreover, if you’re a competent driver, then keep a lookout for turning teenagers!

In my local pub, the Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife last week, Dastardly Derek, the barkeep, shouted: “Do anyone know CPR?” I yelled back: “I know all those letters!” Everybody laughed, except this one bloke….

Brooklyn Beckham is of the profound opinion that he had it tough growing up. I reckon that we all had it much harder because we had to listen to his mother sing.



Young Willy Eckerslyke was absolutely paralytic drunk, his shirt was torn, and he had lipstick marks all over his face, as he staggered onto the 237 bus in Stalybridge and flopped down right next to a priest. He pulls out his iPhone and, after doomscrolling for a few minutes, turns to the priest and sez: “Father, do you happen to know what causes arthritis?” The priest gazes at him with a saturnine grimace and sternly replies: “Arthritis, my son comes to those who have strayed from the path of righteousness and who sleep with fallen women and abuse alcohol!” Young Willy is astounded by this answer and replied: “ Seriously?” He goes silent and stares thoughtfully through the window. The priest starts feeling guilty about being so harsh to this vulnerable young man and softens his tone. He asked: “Well alright my son, how long have you had arthritis?” Young Willy sez; “I don’t have it. I was just reading a news item that says the Pope suffers from arthritis.”


                                   

Life has taught Barmy Albert two important lessons. He doesn’t remember the first one anymore, but the second is that you should write everything down! Non-stick Nora and Barmy Albert were having trouble remembering things, so they decided to visit their doctor to get checked out and ensure everything was okay. When they arrived at the doctor's, they explained to the doctor about the difficulty they were having with their memory. After checking the couple out, the doctor tells them that they are physically okay but might want to start writing things down and making notes to help them remember things. The couple thanked the doctor and left. Later that night, while watching TV, Albert got up from his chair and Nora asked, "Where are you going?" Albert replies, "To the kitchenette." Nora asks, "Will you get me an ice cream?" He replies, "Sure." She then asks him, "Don't you think you should write it down so you can remember it?" He sez: "No, I can remember that." She replied, "Well, I also would like some strawberries on top, with a sprinkling of sugar. You had better write that down because I know you'll forget that." He says, "I’m not an imbecile! I can remember that. You want a bowl of ice cream with strawberries and a sprinkle of sugar." She replies, "Well, I also would like whipped cream on top. I know you will forget that, so you'd better write it down." With irritation in his voice, Albert shouts, "I don't need to write that down! I can remember all that." He then fumes into the kitchen. After about 20 minutes, he returns from the kitchen and hands her a plate of bangers and mash. Nora stares at the plate for a moment and says angrily: "I TOLD you to write it down! You forgot the onion gravy!"

                                                       

  

Tattyfilarious!

Standing as the last great titan of the music hall tradition, Ken Dodd believed a comedy show was an endurance test for everyone involved. With his wild hair and legendary "tickling stick," he was a living cartoon who brought a surreal, high-energy frenzy to the stage. Dodd was famous for his five-hour sets, often refusing to let the audience leave until well past midnight, firing off one-liners at a rate that left people physically exhausted. He viewed himself as a "jester" whose sole purpose was to dispense joy.

He created the "Diddymen," mythical creatures from the Liverpool suburb of Knotty Ash, turning a simple neighbourhood into a kingdom of jam butties and treacle mines. This world-building was a form of folk-art, a surrealist escape that appealed to children and adults alike. Dodd was also a record-breaking singer, with his anthem "Happiness" reflecting his unpretentious philosophy that a laugh was the most valuable thing a person could own. Despite a high-profile tax trial—which he brilliantly turned into material—his popularity never wavered, because the public recognised his total dedication.

He kept meticulous notebooks of every gig he ever played, analysing which jokes worked in which towns with the rigor of a scientist. This obsession with the craft meant that he remained a master of timing until his final performances at age 90. Dodd was a bridge to a vanished world of variety, a man who treated every audience like a family gathering. He proved that pure silliness is a timeless virtue and that the best way to spend a night is in a theatre, losing track of time while a man in a red, white, and blue suit tells you jokes.

It's what he would have wanted,,,,

                                       

If any of my readers know someone who can correct botched cosmetic surgery, I’m all ears…

All the pipes at home were frozen solid last week, and we had no water for a couple of days. The domestic supply was the bottled variety, and we conserved it as much as possible. The missus put a note in the bathroom, which read: ‘Save Water! Don’t forget to put in Percy Plug before turning on Tommy Tap. I wrote underneath, “And don’t put too much Sammy Soap on Fanny Flannel!” That’s when the fight started!

The wife (or Shrek in a frock, as I lovingly refer to her) informed me that she had been to an Ann Summers party, whatever that is. Apparently, it's just like a Tupperware party, but with batteries. She purchased some really odd items. She bought some edible underwear and a pair of handcuffs. I don’t eat her cooking, so I’m not going to eat her vest, am I? She made a rhubarb pie last week, it was two foot long and one inch wide! She reckoned that if we went upstairs and I handcuffed her to the bed, I could do anything that I desired. So, I handcuffed her to the bed, then I went down to Wetherspoons.

There’s a recipe by Mary Berry, and she says that you can use ‘leftover beer’ to make battered chicken wings. What exactly is leftover beer? I was also trying to construct Mary Berry’s Octopus soup. What a flamin’ fiasco! They have suckers on their tentacles, so I couldn’t get it off the tiled Kitchenette floor! It took me two hours to get the little critter in the pan, then when I eventually got it up on the hob, it kept turning the gas off!

                                       

  

I’m uncertain what is more horrifying. What is happening in our world, or the number of folks who are unconcerned with what is happening in our world?

I got a lot of abuse from mourners at my friend's funeral last Friday. He died from drowning, and I took a floral wreath in the shape of a life jacket. Although everyone thought that it was in poor taste, it’s exactly what he would have wanted…

Barmy Albert was in his local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife and was stuck on the crossword. Non-Stick Nora asked him what the clue was, and Albert replied: “Comedy actor who sang My Boomerang Won’t Come Back.” Nora sez: “I know this one. It’s Benny Hill.” Dastardly Dennis, the barkeep, advised: “It’s Charlie Drake.” Nora told him: “It couldn’t have been Charlie Drake. She’s the one who does the gardening programme without a bra,” Barmy Albert replied, “No. You’re wrong again. That’s Alan Titmarsh.”

Thursday Quiz: I am the first on earth, the second in heaven. I appear twice in a week, although you can only see me once in a year. What am I?

Liverpool Police pulled over a local Toxteth lad and were flabbergasted to discover that the vehicle was taxed, had a current MOT and was fully and comprehensively insured. The car wasn’t stolen, and no drugs or stolen merchandise were found in a thorough search. The driver was breathalysed and was sober, he possessed a full licence and no points. A police spokesman said: “We had no other option but to fine him £80 for wasting police time.”

Fascinating Fact: Koi carp always swim around in groups of four. If a predator attacks them, Koi’s A, B and C scatter quickly, leaving behind the D Koi.

Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every man has many, not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some. Charles Dickens.

                         

  

That Was The Year That Was!

                                     

My New Year's resolution is to stop using spray-on aerosol deodorant. Roll On 2026! I remember going to see Dr Hook in 1976. It was the worst prostate examination ever!

Breaking News: Sam Allardyce has been appointed as the President of Venezuela until the end of the season.

Fascinating Fact: Before I got married, I was unaware that there was an incorrect way to eat, drink, sleep, chew and breathe, et cetera.

I went to the doctor with a nasty cough, and he asked me, "Have you started smoking again?" I replied: "No, why?" He sez: "That’s a shame. I'm selling 200 Lambert & Butler for forty quid.” After completing a thorough medical examination from the doctor, I asked, "Well, Doc, how do I stand?" The doctor replied: "That's what puzzles me.Anyway, I have your test results back. It would appear that you have early onset rigor mortis.”

Barmy Albert always had an aversion to milk since he was very young. He still maintains this peccadillo right up to the present day. It’s because his mother ran off with the milkman when he was just a little kid. Watching them drive away on his float was probably the most miserable two hours of his entire life. Then just yesterday, Non-Stick Nora sez to him, “Nip to the Co-op and get a litre of milk and if they have eggs, get a dozen.” Albert duly returned, and Nora started ranting and raving at the poor soul, “You absolute moron! Why the heck have you brought back twelve litres of milk, for God’s sake?” With all the dignity Albert could muster, He replied, “They had eggs….”



If my body were a car, I would definitely be trading it in for a more state-of-the-art model. I've got bumps, dents, scratches and my paint job is splattered with varicose veins. My headlamps are out of plonk. My traction isn’t as graceful as it once was. My head cloth is now grey. My gearbox is just about seized up. It takes me hours to reach maximum speed. I overheat for no reason. But worst of all is that every time I sneeze, cough, or laugh, either my radiator leaks or my exhaust backfires!

Non-stick Nora and Barmy Albert were having trouble remembering things, so they decided to visit their doctor to get checked out and ensure everything was okay. When they arrived at the doctor's, they explained to the doctor about the difficulty they were having with their memory. After checking the couple out, the doctor tells them that they are physically okay but might want to start writing things down and making notes to help them remember things. The couple thanked the doctor and left. Later that night, while watching TV, Albert got up from his chair and Nora asked, "Where are you going?" Albert replies, "To the kitchenette." Nora asks, "Will you get me a bowl of ice cream?" He replies, "Sure." She then asks him, "Don't you think you should write it down so you can remember it?" He sez: "No, I can remember that." She replied, "Well, I also would like some strawberries on top. You had better write that down because I know you'll forget that." He says, "I’m not stupid! I can remember that. You want a bowl of ice cream with strawberries." She replies, "Well, I also would like whipped cream on top. I know you will forget that, so you'd better write it down." With irritation in his voice, Albert shouts, "I don't need to write that down! I can remember all that." He then fumes into the kitchen. After about 20 minutes, he returns from the kitchen and hands her a plate of sausage and baked beans. Nora stares at the plate for a moment and says angrily: "I TOLD you to write it down! You forgot my toast!"

I had a tankard of ale with old Tommy Grabknuckle in my local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley-Knife, and he told me that he’d caught his 12-year-old grandson looking up ladies' skirts. I informed him that they tend to do that at his age. “No.” He opined. “This was on Amazon!”

                               

 

With all the current ridiculous shenanigans occurring in America, has anyone considered unplugging Donald Trump and plugging him back in again, to see if there’s any improvement? There was an American bloke I met in Manchester. He sez: “Hey, boy, ya see that building over there, why back in the States, we have buildings a hundred times bigger!” I replied: “I’m not surprised, it’s a lunatic asylum!”

I bumped into young Willy Eckerslyke on Scropton Street back snicket. He had two black eyes. I asked him what had happened." He replied, "I was standing behind a rather large woman at the supermarket checkout. I noticed that her dress was caught in the nape of her derriere, so I pulled it out. She turned around and punched me square in the eye." "Where did you get the other shiner from?" I politely enquired. "Well, I figured she preferred it the way it was before, so I pushed it back in again."

Next week is Awareness Awareness Week. If you are unaware of awareness and would like to be more aware of the fact that you are unaware, then Awareness Awareness Week could be for you.

I’m currently reading a book on DIY house construction, by Bill Jerome Holmes.

                                 

 

Advent Calendars days are numbered....

                                 

I always thought that Advent Calendar days were numbered. When I opened the first door on mine last year, a bailiff was standing there!

 

Q: Did you hear about the Eton Advent Calendar? A: It’s just like a normal one except Daddy opens all the doors for you.


                                     

Unite General Secretary Sharon Graham warns Labour risks “sowing the seeds of its own destruction”. She reckons that Keir Starmer is ‘toast’ and will be replaced as Labour leader in the very near future. Of course, the main problem with Starmer and toast is that virtually every decision he makes is akin to toast landing on the kitchenette floor, buttered side down. An obvious measure Starmer could take would be strapping the piece of toast to Larry, the Downing Street cat, thereby ensuring the toast would land correctly. However, Larry has two left feet, whereas Kier is two-tier, so it could still go awry. Starmer is so inept that if his toast landed buttered side up, then his current track record indicates that he’d buttered the wrong side! Labour voters should all start texting each other like old-time explorers. “Dearest friend, I have survived yet another week; however, the horrors persist….”

Top Tip: Upcycle a chest of drawers by turning one of the drawers upside-down, thereby making a writing bureau.

Fascinating Facts: Apparently, the average adult swears over 80 times per day. Finally, something I’m excelling at! Moreover, 50% of Roger Federer's name is "er"

The missus is proper childish. Every time I’m having a bath, she just barges in and sinks all my boats…

Non-Stick Nora was late for church and was running up the steps. She asked young Willie Eckerslyke: “Is mass out?” He replied: “No. But your hat is a tad skewiff!”

92-year-old Tommy Grabknuckle visited his doctor, and the doctor told him: “I’m very sorry to tell you this, but you’re gonna die.” Tommy opined: “Isn’t there anything that can be done?” The physician advised: “Well, you could take 3 or 4 mud baths every day.” Tommy asked: “Will that cure me?” The G.P. sez: “No. But it’ll get you used to the dirt….”

Barmy Albert's boss phoned him and asked: “Where the hell are you?” Albert told him: “I’m in Brighton. I’ve been here since 5 am.” His boss sez: “Why?” Albert replied: “The last thing you said to me yesterday was, I want you in Brighton early tomorrow!” His boss said: “But you were late yesterday.” Albert replied: “That’s because I left the house late.” The boss asked him why he couldn’t have left the house earlier. With all the dignity that he could muster, Albert told him: “It was already too late to leave earlier….”

Ladies! Listen up! If you feel like you have been left on the shelf and you’re approaching middle age, don’t worry! Madonna is 67, and her boyfriend is 29. Cher is 79, and her boyfriend is 38. Ladies, if you are still single, relax. Take a chill pill. Your boyfriend hasn’t even been born yet!

In 1920, we took children out of the coal mines. In 2020, the most popular video game on the market is Minecraft. Children yearn for the mines!



Top Tip: Marriage is realising that your missus is the sweetest human being alive, except when she’s tired, hungry, too warm, too cold or the kids are misbehaving, or her hormones have become discombobulated. In essence, she’s flawless for five days per month, so use them wisely…

                       

 

Did you know that dishonest people conceal their faults from themselves as well as others, honest people know and confess them. Jazz music is an intensified feeling of nonchalance. Furthermore, you should never trust an electrician with no eyebrows. For more fascinating factual gubbins, visit my website: www.ComedianUK.com and you can also email me: ComedianUK@sky.com. Now get back to work!

                           

The Chav Nativity....

                                         

Santa is chatting to ten-year-old Jason and asks him what he would like for Christmas. Jason tells him that he wants a Mercedes-Maybach EQS 680 First Class SUV or a track-focused BMW iX M Model, the ultimate performance machine. Santa chortles and replies: “Now ask for something a little more realistic." Jason told him: “Well, my dad would really like Keir Starmer to grow a backbone, stop kissing the lily-livered liberal lefties' backsides, stop the boats, repair the potholes, bring down energy prices and the cost of living, shut down all asylum seekers' hotels and admit he is the worst Labour Prime Minister in the history of mankind." With all the dignity that Santa could muster, he sez: "And what colour did you say you want this Mercedes to be again?"



I asked the missus what she would like for Christmas, and she sez: “Chanel No 5.” So, I’ve re-tuned the Freeview Box. She also told me that I could get her anything from The Body Shop. So, I’ve got her a front near-side wing for a Ford Focus.

My next-door neighbour Barmy Albert is a creature of strange habits. He retired from work last year and now refuses to look out of his front window in the morning, primarily because; he’ll have nowt to do in the afternoon! He was leaning over the back fence droning on in a nasal whine about his granddad being killed whilst bungee jumping. Apparently, his granddad didn’t think to tell ’em about his artificial leg.

                                                   

 

I have discovered why men die many years before women do. It’s because they want to! The wife (I call her ’Babe’ – you’ve seen the film) isn’t speaking to me right now, and all because I put a cat flap in the budgie's cage. I was sitting in the living room last night and I said to the missus, “I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug.” She got up, unplugged the telly and emptied my glass of malbec down the sink. Some women possess no sense of humour whatsoever.



When I bought the Christmas tree from the local garden centre, the salesman sez, “Are you putting it up yourself?” I replied, “No. It’s for the living room…”

                             

THE CHAV NATIVITY:

There’s this bird called Mary, yeah? She’s a virgin (wossat then?) She’s not married or nuffink, but she’s got this boyfriend, Joey, innit? He does joinery an’ that. Mary lives with him in a crib darn Nazaref. One day, Mary meets this dude Gabriel. She’s like “Oi Oo ya lookin’ at?” Gabriel just goes “You got one in da club, sista” Mary’s totally gobsmacked. She gives it to him, Large “Stop dissin’ me yeah? I ain’t no Kappa-slapper. I ain't never bin wiv no one! Yeah, but no, but yeah!” What in the universal credit, fridge in the front garden, Peppa Pig plate used as an ashtray, payday loan, this town is fuller snakes, Strongbow Dark Fruits, Tesco value ham, front garden trampoline, lip filler paid with child benefit, just me and me kids now on, 35p energy drink, shouting in Aldi in your PJ’s , I swear down on me mam’s life, here’s me hand, here’s me heart, sixes and sevens? silver crushed velvet living room wallpaper, only one pouch of baccy til Boxing Day, mattress in the back ginnel is going on here?

The only surviving brain transplant donor....

                            

When I was a kid, we were quite poor. My mam used to sit up all Christmas Eve, stitching a turkey's head on a kipper. On Christmas morning, I opened my present, and it was two AA batteries and a note which said: “Toys Not Included.”

WARNING! If you receive an email with a link titled: “Ronan Keating sings Christmas Carols.” DON’T open it! It’s a link to Ronan Keating singing Christmas Carols!

I went to a Christmas fancy dress party last night dressed as a screwdriver. I must admit, I turned a few heads. Especially Phillips.

                                       

 

They interviewed me on Tameside Radio last week. The presenter asked me: “Do you have a celebrity crush?” “Yes.” I replied,” Piers Morgan in an earthquake.”




On Christmas Eve, a police officer came upon a terrible road traffic accident, where the driver and passengers had been injured and taken away in an ambulance. As he looked upon the wreckage, a little monkey appeared out of the hedgerow and ambled around the battered vehicle. The officer looked down at the monkey and sez: "I wish you could talk." The monkey gazed up at the efficient policeman and shook his head up and down. "You can understand what I'm saying?" asked the officer. Again, the monkey shook his head up and down. "Well, did you see this?" "Yes," motioned the monkey. "What happened?" The monkey pretended to have a beer can in his hand and turned it up to his mouth. "They were drinking?" asked the officer. "Yes!” "What else?" The monkey pinched his fingers together and held them to his mouth. "They were smoking marijuana?" "Yes." "Now wait, you're saying your owners were drinking and smoking marijuana before they crashed?" "Yes." "What were you doing during all this?" The monkey motioned: "Driving!"Fascinating Fact: Mentally, I'm still 29, humour-wise I'm 12, but physically I'm pretty sure I fought in the First World War...

                                   

  


Many moons ago, when Barmy Albert and Non-Stick Nora tied the knot, the new husband and wife spent the quiet intimacy of their wedding night. With a playful, triumphant glint in his eye, Albert slipped out of his tailored trousers and held them out to Nora. "Here, my love," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "A gift for you. Put these on." Nora took the heavy wool pants, holding them up against her waist. The legs pooled comically on the floor. She raised an eyebrow. "Albert, these are enormous. I'd be swimming in them." "Exactly," he declared, puffing out his chest with a smug grin. "And that's how you know I'm the one who wears the pants in this relationship." Nora didn't flinch. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. She gracefully bent down, opened her own suitcase, and retrieved a delicate pair of lace underwear. "Wonderful," she cooed, handing them over. "Now it's your turn. Put these on." Barmy Albert stared at the flimsy silk in his large hands. He tried to stretch them, his face a mask of confusion and futility. "Don't be absurd! I could never get into these!" In one smooth motion, she plucked them from his grasp, folded them with deliberate care, and returned them to the suitcase. "And you never will," she said, her voice soft but firm as steel, "if you keep that attitude."

55 years ago this week, a 52-year-old bachelor, a popular local man, was killed in Middlesex in a street fight over a woman. The victim, who was a milk deliveryman, died in the gutter from his injuries without medical attention or intervention, witnessed by his then-girlfriend, and in full view of the public. The assailant, a local baker, was never charged with any offence, despite the conflict happening in broad daylight.