The Last Farewell...

Yesterday, we bid farewell to an old and valued friend, Dave Robin (aka MacDonald).









We first met in the halcyon mid 1970's, when gigs were aplenty and so were many other temptations of showbiz, which we took full advantage of regularly.

Post gig, we would assemble, along with all the other acts, in The Long Bar on Oxford Street, Manchester, together with most of the exotic dancers from the Bertie Topham stable at The 21 Club, where I was Emcee and Dave performed his sixties extravaganza. After staggering out of the Long Bar, we'd invariably visit Charlie Chans restaurant in Chinatown for Goldie Hawns in Men of Harlech (Prawns in garlic- Teppanyaki style) and further liquid refreshment. In those dark days, the restaurants weren't licensed to serve alcohol after 2am, so wine would be dispensed in a teapot, under the guise of Chinese tea!




He worked at the Golden Garter 1969/72 With the G set trio, and also compared the venue.

Dave also played with The Ivy League for a spell.

He also attended Salford College of Music.



He was an avid comic writer and composed several humorous stories for Stockport-based publications and The Stage Newspaper. Dave always maintained that he bought a second-hand guitar off Adam Ant. It was £50, but Adam told Dave that for an extra £10 he would throw in a Stand and Deliver.

 

We saw each other most weeks and failing that, we'd exchange phone calls containing hilarious banter that was entirely nonsensical and worthy of Edward Lear's rhetoric.




In 1980, I was the best man at his wedding, and the Manchester club circuit was still mega-busy, with doubles at weekends and lots of midweek gigs too.










Rest in peace, dear friend. It was a privilege to know you. Life will be infinitely poorer for your passing.

                        

Straight Up Hormuz....

                                                     

Surreal Scenario: I’m still trying to comprehend the fact that in Makerfield, the Labour MP stood down to run a Labour candidate to remove the Labour Prime Minister. Moreover, folk still voted for Labour! Are we in a parallel universe?

There is something quite quirky and idiosyncratic about a middle-class British couple going for an afternoon sail and almost starting a war with Russia. It's very much like an Ealing comedy.

I ordered a deck of cards from Amazon, but they didn’t arrive, so I called Customer Services, and they told me that they’re dealing with it!

Non-Stick Nora has reached the unfortunate conclusion that her body is no longer a temple. It’s now more of a bouncy castle, which means anyone can have a go as long as they’ve got a quid and remove their shoes first. Yesterday, she told Barmy Albert that he’s not the most idiotic person in all the world, but he’d better hope the most idiotic person doesn’t die.”

Last week, Non-stick Nora’s dog died. In a futile effort to cheer her up, Barmy Albert bought her an identical one. Nora was livid and incandescent with rage! She screamed at Albert: “What the hell am I going to do with two dead dogs!”

Fascinating Fact: Whenever I point the remote control directly at the telly, nothing happens. However, if I accidentally drop it between the sofa cushions, it switches from Netflix to Amazon Prime, opens six different apps, changes the subtitles to Japanese, and mysteriously starts playing Christmas carols!

Three conspiracy theorists walk into the Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife pub and each orders a tankard of Farquharson's Auld and Filthy Ale. Now you can’t tell me that’s a coincidence! They were swiftly followed by a pessimist and an optimist. The pessimist declared: “Things can’t get any worse!” The optimist replied: “Oh yes, they can!” They were both right, and the pair of them went home sober…

Octogenarian Tommy Grabknuckle arrived home and was greeted by his wife, Elsie, who shouted: “What's going on? You have four penguins in the back seat of the car!” Tommy sez: “I know! When I stopped at the traffic lights in Stalybridge, they all jumped into the back seat, and now I don’t know what to do with them!” Elsie pondered this unusual situation and concluded: “You’ll have to take them to Chester Zoo.” Tommy thought it was an excellent idea and set off towards Chester. Later that day, Tommy returned with the same four penguins, only now, they’ve all got buckets and spades. Elsie asked: “I thought I told you to take them to the zoo?” Tommy answered: “I did. We had a fantastic time, so now we’re going to Blackpool beach!”
                                       

Young Woody Eckerslyke had a job interview and got into the lift at Scropton Street Skyscraper and went up to the 15th floor. As he was getting out, the lift operator said: “Have a good day, son.” Woody replied: “Don’t call me son. You are not my father.” The lift attendant says: “No. But I brought you up, didn’t I?” After his interview, Woody got back in the lift, and the same attendant was there. They descended in an awkward silence. Upon reaching the ground floor, the attendant confessed: “I’m sorry.” Woody answered: “Because you thought you were my dad?” The attendant shook his head and replied: “No, son. It’s because I let you down…” This joke is wrong on so many levels.

We all make terrible mistakes as we weave a weary course through life’s rich tapestry. Last night, I slept with my best friend's wife, and now I feel terrible. She must have given me a cold or summat.

                                             

  


                                                 

Life is a rollercoaster!

                                             

Non-Stick Nora was shopping up Scropton Street Precinct and spotted octogenarian Elsie Grabknuckle visibly upset and weeping outside the haberdashery, so she approached her to see what the matter was. Nora says: “Are you alright, Elsie. You look a tad crestfallen?” She sobbed and replied: “No, my best friend Cynthia passed away yesterday while we were at the MECCA Bingo Hall.”  Nora opined: “I’m so sorry to hear that you must have been close? Elsie replied tearfully, “Yes, we were very close. She needed number 37, and I was sweating on number 82 for the full house!”



Many moons ago, I recollect chatting to a lovely young lady in a hotel bar, and we became quite friendly. I asked her back to my room for an evening of unbridled passion, and I drank vintage Champagne out of her shoes. I was paralytic drunk for the next two days. She was wearing wellies.


                                          

It’s 2:00 am, and Barmy Albert is stopped by the traffic police driving a golf buggy and buzzing down the hard shoulder of M67. Albert is wearing a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops.

The efficient policeman walks up and asks, "Alright, buddy, where are you heading in a golf buggy at this ungodly hour?” With a forlorn frown, Albert looks him in the eye and explains: "Officer, I am currently en route to a mandatory, high-intensity seminar on chronic alcohol abuse, the respiratory dangers of chain-smoking cigars, and the psychological toll of staying out late at the clubhouse." The copper looks around the empty motorway and asks: "Seriously? Who the hell is giving a lecture on that at two in the morning in this neck of the woods?" Barmy Albert sighs and replies: "That would be my wife!”



Fascinating Fact: AI won’t replace people. Folks who understand how to use AI will replace people, until AI replaces them too. Furthermore, AI will never replace natural stupidity.



I came home from my local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife, and my wife sat me down for a serious discussion about our marriage. She gazed at me with much disdain and opined: “We’re at a crossroads in our relationship.” She continued: “One road will lead to hard work and total commitment, whereas the other is a dead end.” I replied: “That’s not a crossroads. That is a T-Junction.” That’s when the fight started!



I remember reading a paragraph in the Tameside Reporter a few years ago. It was a wonderful use of the word 'suspected'. It read: "A man was arrested on Market Street, Stalybridge, yesterday. He was suspected of robbing a launderette on Market Street. He was wearing 13 jumpers, some of which were still damp.”
                                   

Fascinating Fact: I can't get 10CC’s hit song "I'm Not in Love" out of my head! It's probably just a silly phase I'm going through. Moreover, I tried Gary Barlow’s new wine range last night and got really drunk. Can’t remember much of the evening, but just want to say that whatever I said, whatever I did, I didn't mean it.



Top Tip: You should always agree to a quick half-hour beer with friends, because that impromptu hour and three-quarters could turn out to be the best five hours of your entire life!



It’s difficult to believe that exactly twenty-five years ago today, will mark the day that I asked my girlfriend, soulmate and the love of my life to marry me. It’s even harder for me to believe that all three said no…

                                

The Kerfuffle Down Scropton Street Abbatoir...

                                     

The cost-of-living crisis is real! British people don’t actually recover financially anymore. Your income goes into the bank and immediately gets divvied up like a drug cartel payout. Mortgage takes half. Council tax, electricity, gas and water take the rest. Then Tesco somehow charges you eighty-eight quid for what appears to be a leg of mince, a jar of pickled herrings, a lump of scrag end and untold emotional damage. By the third week of the month, you’re sauntering around Lidl whispering: “Do I really need Fairy Liquid or should I start using paper plates and plastic cutlery? Nothing humbles you quicker than after one ‘quick trip’ to B & M. You walk in for four AA batteries and come out £46 poorer, carrying a bamboo bath tray, 14 snacks you’ve never heard of, a lava lamp, patio citronella candles (despite not owning a patio) and a Japanese ornamental Aspidistra shaped like a rugby ball. I also bought some essential oils. I’m wondering how I got through life before I started using them if they're so essential. Isn’t life grand when you’re barmy!

Busy week last week! Ever since joining the Glen Campbell fan club, I keep getting cards and letters from people I don’t even know. Moreover, I had to see my accountant yesterday. His office is on the 7th floor. I asked the receptionist if there was a lift, and she said, “We call it an elevator where I come from.” I reckon we were just raised differently.

Barmy Albert’s mum always told him to be a gentleman and give up his seat on the bus to a blind man. Yesterday, he lost his job as a bus driver.

Many moons ago, when I had my own flat, I remember taking this young lady back one night. Fast forward to the following month, as another girl and I lay on the bed, a mysterious voice announced: “She’s a stone lighter than the last one you brought home!” The girl asked me, “Who the flaming hell was that?” I replied: “It’s the memory foam mattress!” Curses! Foiled again!

                            

Non-Stick Nora attended an auction where she spotted an exotic parrot. She really wanted this magnificent bird, so she got caught up in the bidding. Unfortunately, she kept getting outbid, and the price kept rising, leaving her more tenacious with each bid. Finally, after bidding much more than she had intended, she won the auction. The parrot was hers! As she was paying for the parrot, she told the auctioneer, “I sincerely hope that this parrot isn’t defective. I’d hate to fork out so much money, only to get home and discover that he can’t talk!” “Of course he can talk,” replied the auctioneer. “Who do you think kept outbidding you?”

Yesterday, a strange woman (She had a face like a Chihuahua, chewing a wasp) approached me near the Scropton Street Abbatoir, and declared that she knew me from the Vegetarian group. I’d swear that I’d never seen Herbivore….

Barmy Albert was struggling with his accounts, where he had to separate the VAT from the gross amount. He called Non-Stick Nora and sez to her: “You’re good at maths, so maybe you could help me with this. If I were to give you £300 minus 20%, how much would you take off?” Nora replied: “Everything but my earrings!” Is she a temptress or a Jezebel?

The missus asked me to take her to see Pirates of the Caribbean. However, dropping her off on the Somalian coastline wasn’t quite what she expected. That’s when the fight started!