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Monday 2 November 2020

Gonna Lockdown 2 Electric Avenue!


In 2019. I don’t go out, sit on the couch nearly all day in pyjamas, drinking bottles of beer, watching Netflix .  The missus reckons I’m a lethargic, overweight, lazy slob! Fast forward to 2020. Same scenario. Now I’m a responsible, moral, pillar of society.  Strange days indeed. Most peculiar, mama!


So, Boris has announced yet another lockdown until December 2nd. I’m gonna be opening my advent calendar before I open my front door! Who’d a thowt it!


If you were a spider, which make and model of vacuum cleaner would you hate the most?


I've found during lockdown I really enjoy mulled wine. I drink one bottle of Malbec and then mull over whether to open another. I only drink whilst having dinner.  I’m down to ten dinners per day now.


Finding a mask in your pocket is the new equivalent of finding a fiver!  Wahay! Wetherspoons here we come!


I was thoroughly depressed when the new lockdown measures came in.  Then I received a text that sez: “I am here for you.”   I didn’t recognise the number, so I replied: “Thank you, that’s really cheered me up.  Who is this?”  Then came the reply: “This is your taxi driver.  I am outside your house...”


No Covid vaccine is forthcoming as yet. However, doctors have finally found a cure for Noddy’s tinnitus.  They’ve cut the bell off his hat.


The missus asked me to go to the local Co-op.  She sez: “Get a litre of milk and if they have eggs, then get a dozen.  When I returned, she started ranting at me!  “Why in God’s name, have you brought back twelve litres of milk?” With all the dignity that I could muster, I replied:   “Because they had eggs!”


I went back to get the eggs and return all the milk and I noticed that on the egg box, it bore the legend ‘The eggs in this box have been laid by hens which have been allowed to roam freely.’   With all this new lockdown lark, I never thought I’d be jealous of a chicken! 


Boris has completed a degree in politics. In the exams, he got extra marks for not answering the questions.


Non Stick Nora was waxing lyrical and talking about her new job: "I'm in anger management." She sniffed. Barmy Albert replied:  "Jeepers! You're a therapeutic consultant that is really impressive!"  "Therapist?" She laughed, "No, I'm in charge of clothes hangers at the Stockport branch of Primark."


Sharon tells her mum that she’s pregnant and her mother asked: “Who’s the father?”  Sharon opined: “Dunno. He was wearing a mask!”


Shutting restaurants, bars and pubs for a month does NOT kill the virus. It just kills pubs, bars and restaurants and jobs, lots of jobs and folks livelihoods.  End of rant.

The accounts described in this gloppy column are merely recollections of the author, and may or may not represent actual occurrences or involve those named in the text, such as Non-Stick Nora and Barmy Albert. Any resemblance to real people is entirely deliberate, and in accordance with apocryphal law, accounts that are undisputed more than three minutes after this newspaper is printed become incontrovertible truths. Visit my Jokey-Blog via: You can email me: Now, behave yourself and get back to work!

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