Thinking the Unthinkable...

                                   

With the current heatwave gubbins, you can tell it’s reached 34°C behind the abattoir, up Scropton Street back snicket. The scrag-end, chavvy mothers are screaming their tonsils off at the kids and using Elizabethan expletives and swearing like they’re auditioning for a Jeremy Kyle reboot. Meanwhile, a Yamaha YZ80 is being scrambled up and down the estate, closely followed by a Thumpstar 140 fitted with what appears to be a drainpipe for an exhaust. Moreover, UB40 is being blasted at approximately 120 decibels because apparently the entire postcode needed to hear Red, Red Wine because the infamous lyrics had slipped from their minuscule craniums. What with all this global warming and drought situations that are currently prevalent, anyone who has dumped a cadaver in Tintwistle reservoir must be getting a bit twitchy now…

Non-Stick Nora and Barmy Albert attended a fancy dress party at The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife pub last weekend. They were both dressed as tea bags. On the way home, they got mugged!

Much later on, Non-Stick Nora and Barmy Albert were fast asleep when the phone rang at 2 a.m. Nora answered, and after a few seconds, she exclaimed, “How should I know? That’s over 200 miles away!” and hung up. Albert asked her, “Who was that? And what did they want?” Nora replied, “I have no idea. Some stupid woman wanted to know if the coast is clear.” The conversations between them grew more surreal by the day. For instance, Barmy Albert told Non-Stick Nora that his mother-in-law was doing great. “She's gonna get out of the hospital and be with us for decades." "Incredible!" replied Nora "But I don't understand. Yesterday the doctor said she only had a few days to live!" Barmy Albert says, "Well, I don't know about yesterday, but today the doctor told me to prepare for the worst."

Fascinating Fact: It’s ironic that the days of the week are named after gods, because at the moment I’ve no idea what deities.

KITCHENWARE COMPANY BOSS: “So, did you come up with a name for that revolving food tray, Susan?” SUSAN: “Nah. Couldn't be bothered, mate.”

Riddle me this: If you invited Tess Daly, Seb Coe, Val Kilmer and Hugh Grant to dinner and made them cook, would you end up with a Tess Coe Val Hugh meal?

                               

  

Meanwhile, a French bloke, a young blonde girl, an old lady and a fella wearing a Stalybridge Celtic shirt are all on a train to Manchester. The train goes into a tunnel, and the compartment goes completely dark, at which point a loud wallop is heard. When they emerge from the tunnel, the Frenchman is rubbing his jaw. The old lady thinks, "Oh folly, folly! The Frenchman must have gotten handsy with the young lady, so she slapped him. Good for her!" The young blonde thinks, "The Frenchman must have tried to get forward with me, but groped the old lady instead, so she slapped him." The Frenchman thinks, "That Stalybridge pig must have touched the blonde girl inappropriately, and she thought it was me, so she slapped me!" And the Stalybridge Celtic fan thinks, " I hope we go through another tunnel so I can slap the French geezer again!"

I'm currently listening to an audiobook narrated by Chris Eubank. It's called "Thinking the Unthinkable" It's all about the Titanic...

Have you ever been halfway through eating a horse between two back doors and thought to yourself, “You know, I’m not as hungry as I thought I was!”

Young Woody Eckerslyke is telling his brother Willy that he’s dating an unusual Turkish girl, whose mother was Tunisian and her father Canadian, although one of her grandparents was Albanian and her half-brother is Danish. Willy was astounded and told him that he needed to break up with her. When Woody asked, “Why?” Willy replied: “Too many red flags!”

                                                     

The Travelodge Dorky Door Key Dilemma....

                         

The Travelodge hotel chain says it has made "immediate changes" to its door key policy after a vulnerable female hotel guest was assaulted by a dubious bloke who was given a duplicate key card to her room. I stay in many Travelodge hotels while I’m doing gigs nationwide, and I must confess that a voluptuous blonde woman gained access to my room last week, and when I asked her who she was, she told me her name was Inga. Trying to be funny, I asked her if she was any relation to Ingersoll, the watch. She said: “Yes. The same price, but a different movement…”

Fascinating Fact: An anagram of Nigel Farage is: A leering fag.

Whenever I see a warning label on peanut butter saying it may contain peanuts. I understand why aliens don't visit us anymore. Imagine if an alien looked down and witnessed us picking up dog poop. Who would they think is the superior species?

Although I’ve never spoken to the woman next door in 24 years, until today. I’ve discovered that her name is Alice…

                              

Barmy Albert and Non-Stick Nora were languishing in their local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife, and it was Quiz Night. This question cropped up, and they were asked to name three hits by Meat Loaf. Albert racked his brains and could only come up with ‘I Would Do Anything for Love’ and ‘Bat Out of Hell’, and then his mind went blank. Nora opined: “Two out of Three Ain’t Bad…

As my wife and I were leaving for a night out, the babysitter told us to take as long as we like...
That was two years ago. I hope she's enjoying being a parent...

                              

Young Willy and Woody Eckerslyke arrived late at Stalybridge Train Station along with maestro of bunkum and baloney Chester Draws; however, the train was already leaving the platform. A station worker managed to push Willy and Woody onto the moving train, but Chester was left behind.

The station guard told him: "I'm sorry. I couldn't get you on the train." Chester chortled and smiled and sez: "No problem. The two guys on the train are the ones who'll be sorry." The guard asked: "Why?" With all the dignity that he could muster, Chester replied: "Because they were only here to see me off."



                           

Octogenarian Elsie Grabknuckle was in a quandary. When her dear friend Cynthia passed away, she left her fifty quid in her will, and Elsie couldn’t decide what the safest thing to do with this money. Her husband Tommy told her to put it in the bank. "What if there's a recession?" says Elsie. Tommy reckoned that if the bank fails, then the bank administration guarantees your money back, Elsie was still somewhat perturbed by this scenario. "What if the administration fails?" she asked.
Tommy replied: "If the administration fails, the Bank of England guarantees your money back."
Elsie asked him: "What if the Bank of England goes pear-shaped?" Tommy told her: "If the Bank of England goes into liquidation, the International Monetary Fund would guarantee your money back."
Elsie was still worried and said: "Well, what if the International Monetary Fund goes bust?"
Tommy assured her, "Then the British government will guarantee your money back." "What if the British government went bust?" says Elsie, Tommy, who by now was totally exasperated, told her: "Are you telling me you wouldn't pay fifty quid to see that?"

A blonde goes to the counter and says: "I'd like to order fries and a Coke." The man at the counter tells her: "Madam, this is a library." The blonde whispers: "I'd like to order fries and a Coke."


                            

The Funny, Facetious and Farcical French Frog Legs Farrago...

                                                         

Tameside Police are seeking to arrest a prolific shoplifter who has been stealing sweets and chocolate from local retail outlets by taping them to different parts of his anatomy. A senior police spokesman told this newspaper: "He won’t get far because he’s got a Bounty on his head."

One of billionaire Elon Musk's many children emailed him from his university: Dear Dad, London is wonderful, people are fantastic, and I really do like it here, but Dad, I am ashamed to arrive at my college with my limited edition, custom pure-gold Ferrari F80 when all my teachers and many fellow students travel by train: your son, Tomas. The following day, Elon replied: Dear Son, Thirty-five million dollars has just been transferred to your account. Please stop embarrassing us. Go and get yourself a nice train too. Luv, Dad

A vicar, a doctor and an engineer were playing golf together. After a few holes, one guest exclaimed: "That foursome ahead of us is really slow. They're all over the fairway, they're in the rough, four-putting holes. Couldn't we ask to play through?" The host replied, "No, we don't like to do that. Those guys are partially sighted. They have a special professional who helps them line up shots, and our club lets them play free." The vicar declared: "Why, that's incredible. What exemplary fortitude they possess! I'll ask my congregation to pray for them; maybe we could get a miracle." The doctor pronounced:  "Well, perhaps I can beat that. I know an ophthalmologist who's having good luck with some experimental surgeries. I’ll ask him if he could assist with his immense knowledge." The engineer scratched his head for a moment and replied:  "Couldn't they play at night?"

 

Two fascinating Facts: What's the opposite of a croissant? A happy uncle. I just purchased a First Aid Kit because I thought I’d treat myself!.

                               

Andy Burnham was visiting an old folk’s home purely as a publicity stunt to show how sympathetic he was to the cost-of-living crisis for the elderly. He went up to octogenarian Elsie Grabknuckle, who was in a wheelchair, and because he’d only been Prime Minister for a few weeks, he asked her: “Do you know who I am?” Elsie replied: “No, I don’t, but if you ask Matron, she will tell you.”



Meanwhile, over at Tameside College, Young Willy Eckerslye sauntered into the lecture room, only to discover his physics professor face down on his desk, crying inconsolably. Willie put his hand on his shoulder and asked him: “Hey. What’s the matter?” The professor replied: “Anything that has mass and takes up space….”

Non-Stick Nora phoned Currys PC World, and the call went thus: “Hi, we bought a computer from you yesterday and it won’t turn on.” The Tech Services guy told her: “Press the big button.” She answered: “I’ve done that already.” He continued: “Try the cord at the back of the PC. Maybe it’s disconnected?” Nora sez: “Hang on. I’ll go and fetch a torch. Don’t go away, I’ll only be a minute.” The Tech Services guy asked her: “Why on earth do you need a torch?” She told him: “It’s dark. We have no electricity….”




Little Tarquin was crying because he was lost in town and stopped a policeman. He told him that he couldn’t find his daddy. The efficient copper asked him: "What's he like?" The little boy replied, "Beer and women!" The policeman asked: “How old is your father?” Little Tarquin replied, “As old as me.” The copper laughed and sez: “How can that be?” He answered: “Well, he didn't become a father until I was born.” ” It's people like David Beckham, Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin that give kids a bad name...

 

I took the missus out for dinner last weekend.  We visited a new French restaurant up Scropton Street.  The wife had frog legs and chicken thighs, but she’s got a wonderful personality....

 

When I was a kid, my dad always told me that the jingle of the ice cream van meant they had sold out.

 

Police are investigating why the plaque on the wall outside Colgate head office keeps disappearing.

 

When a Righteous Brother sang: "You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips." His missus sez: "Hold it right there, mister, there's only one way you'd know that!"

 

Revenge is a dish best served cold. Just for your own information, you can have a ton of gravel dropped off in your ex's driveway for a mere fifty quid.

 

In Romania, a geezer entered the bar and announced: “Free beers outside!” So, everyone in the bar, except the bartender, legged it outside in excitement. The bartender, visibly angry, yells at the man, “What in Tarnation did you do that for? Now I have no customers!!” The man sez: “Sorry landlord, I  honestly didn’t reckon any of those blokes would be brave enough to fight one grizzly beer, let alone three of them”

                                        

I wondered if you have noticed the striking resemblance between the new Lord Mayor of Manchester and the Rt. Hon Edmund Blackadder, and does the former have a cunning plan?

The doctors esteemed prognosis....

                                   

                                      
Yesterday, my doctor advised me to pack in the booze. This will be a massive change for me. I have been with that doctor for 25 years. 

"I just can't abide it anymore, doc," I told him, wincing. "I stand at the urinal for twenty minutes, and nothing happens. Is there something I can take?" "I'll tell you what you can take," the doctor snarls. "A cold dose of reality! Do you have any idea what's happening out there? Global warming is destroying the planet! Wildfires are engulfing the landscape, mega-volcanoes are waking from dormancy, spewing molten lava down the mountainside, engulfing the homesteads below! Putin has started World War III! Visibly shaken, I felt the urge to pay a visit, rushed into the toilet quickly, and all was well! Ashamed, but relieved, I thanked the doctor profusely. "No trouble at all," the doctor chuckled. "All you needed was a little dire rhetoric."

Last weekend I had dinner at an excellent Christian restaurant called "The Lord Giveth". They also do takeaways.

The double-glazing salesman knocked on the door, and after a few seconds, it opened to reveal a boy about eight years old with a tumbler of malt whiskey in his hand, smoking a cigar. The salesman was flabbergasted and asked the kid, "Excuse me, are your parents home?" The boy took a puff of the cigar, sipped some whiskey, then replied: "What do you think?"

I’m currently in Tameside Hospital. Unfortunately, I have been diagnosed with this hide-and-seek virus. They are transferring me to ICU…

Maestro of bunkum and baloney Chester Draws visited Scropton Street Casino, and as he meandered among the various gamblers, he noticed a poker table where one of the players was a dog. He was astounded and asked young Willy Eckerslyke, “Is that dog actually playing poker?” “Yes.” Willy replied. “That’s got to be the smartest dog in the world!” Chester exclaimed. “Nah,” Willie replied. “Every time he gets a good hand, he wags his tail.”

To impress her guests, Non-Stick Nora was preparing a complex Heston Blumenthal recipe of Escargot, which roughly translated is snails in garlic. She dispatches Barmy Albert to buy the snails, which he dutifully does, but then pops into the Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife pub for a quick tankard of Farquharson's Auld and Filthy Best British Bitter Beer. He gets involved in a game of darts and dominoes; one thing leads to another, and he stays for a few rounds, so many in fact, that by the time he leaves it's after nine o’clock. Realising he's extremely late, Albert legs it home, pours the snails over the path leading to his house, then he rings the bell. A furious Nora opens the door. “Where the hell have you been?” she screams. Albert waves back to the snails, “Come on, lads!” he shouts “We're almost there!”
  

                                                                     

Octogenarian Tommy Grabknuckle had a row with his neighbour so in a fit of pique, he dumped an old wash basin on his front lawn. As Tommy was walking away, he shouted: “If you think I'm apologising, you’ve got another sink coming!”

A lawyer died and ended up at the pearly gates. “There’s got to be some mistake,” the lawyer opined, putting his case. “I’m far too young to die. I’m only 42 years old!” “Just 42? That doesn't sound right,” said St Peter. The lawyer sighed with relief. "Thank you so much. I knew this had to be some manner of error." "Ah, wait, here it is," St Peter declared, looking over his records. "According to our calculations, you're actually 102 years old." "Where in the world did you get that number? That’s completely fabricated.” The lawyer responded. St Peter replied: "Not according to all the hours you’ve invoiced your clients!”

                                            

The Seductive Specsavers Scenario!

                                    

I was on holiday in Turkey and came across one of those Turkish bath houses. They shave with a solid steel stone-ground razor, snip out nose and ear hairs, wax off chest and stray black hair, all finished off with a moustache trim and alcohol rub. Honestly, the wife has never looked so good....

Barmy Albert told Tommy Grabknuckle that he argued with Non-Stick Nora and told her that what she’s wearing is wholly inappropriate for gardening. Tommy asked: “Did she listen to your advice?” Albert replied: “Nope. She’s digging in her heels…”

On the TV quiz show front, did they ever reveal what 'Blankety Blank' was actually called?

I told the barber that I wanted my hair cut like Tom Cruise. So, he gave me two cushions to sit on.

I spent the weekend installing a high-voltage electric fence around my property. My neighbour’s dead against it.

I recently had my pet frog Fritz DNA’d. Apparently, he's part German, part French and a tad Pole.

                       

  

Went to see my granny yesterday in the care home where she is domiciled and one of the residents kept saying what a pretty boy I am! I thought she's got good eyesight for her age. Ten minutes later I noticed that she was reading her newspaper upside down.

My girlfriend accused me of cheating. I told her she was starting to sound like my wife.

Seductively, she leaned in, lowered the lights, and looked straight into my eyes. I measure the mood, and go in for a kiss. Then the next thing, I’m being escorted out of Specsavers and banned from going in there anymore!

Two young chemistry students walk into The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife pub. Trying to sound smart, the first one asked the barman for a pint of H20. He was served a glass of water. The other student, who was also trying to sound impressive, said, "I'll have a pint of H20 too." His funeral is next week.

Yesterday, I burned 2,000 calories. That's the last time I leave a pepperoni and mushroom pizza in the oven while I take a power nap.

Hey! Andy Burnham! I reckon that I've come up with a credible solution to the illegal immigration and asylum seekers problem. Why don't you swap Border Force with GPs receptionists and then no one will get in. Furthermore, another brilliant brainwave that I’d dreamed up is: why don’t you get rid of all the Lollipop men/women and rebuild all the schools on the other side of the road!


                                           

Non-Stick Nora texts Barmy Albert at work: "Don't forget to get some bread. Oh, and your girlfriend Cynthia says hi." Albert was perplexed and asked: "Who's Cynthia?" Nora replied: "Nobody, just making sure you read my text." Albert sez: "Phew! I'm with Cynthia right now. I thought you copped us! Nora sez: "What?! Where are you?" Albert told her: "In the Wetherspoons next to the bakery." Nora is incandescent and tells him: "Stay there, I'm on my way!" Five minutes later: Nora: "I'm here, where are you?" "I’m still at work. While you're there, get a loaf!"

Maestro of bunkum and baloney Chester Draws dad sadly passed away, so he goes to the undertaker and tells him he wants the best of everything for his father. The funeral is absolutely beautiful, and Chester is extremely pleased. The next day, Chester received an invoice for four thousand quid, and he pays it. The next month, he gets another bill for £85. He figures it's just a little supplementary bill, so he pays that, too. The following month, another bill for £85 arrives, so he calls up the undertaker and says, "I keep getting these bills for £85. I thought I paid for the funeral already?" The undertaker says, "Well, you said you wanted the best for your father, so I rented him a tuxedo from Moss Bros."

Bountiful bunkum and baloney from bounder Chester Draws...

                                            

Barmy Albert reluctantly agreed to paint the local church. Money was tight, so he surreptitiously watered down the paint to make it go a lot further. Halfway through the job, a violent storm rolled in. Thunder crashed. Lightning struck. Then a booming voice came from the sky: "How very dare you swindle MY church!" Albert fell to his knees and lay prostrate at the altar. "Lord, I'm sorry! What can I do to make recompense?" The voice replied: "Repaint... Repaint... and thin no more!"

I attended a dinner last week where they held a wine tasting event prior to the main event. I must admit that whenever I hear wine experts talk about a ‘complex’ wine, I assume they mean one that doesn't have a screw top. In an effort to improve my limited knowledge, I’ve joined a wine club. We meet at 9 am in the local park every morning.


In the spirit of Wimbledon, I bought a punnet of strawberries and looked on the internet to see the best way to serve them. It suggested I halve the strawberries, sprinkle them with icing sugar and pile cream on top. My verdict is that Preparation H tastes awful!

In the unlikely event I ever get offered three wishes by a genie, I not only have them all planned out in advance, but typed up in a Word document. One of them has fifteen subclauses (so far) to avoid any malicious genie skullduggery and malpractice.

Octogenarian Elsie Grabknuckle was telling Non-Stick Nora that her husband Tommy went to the local Co-op to get some spuds for their tea and he was hit by a van." Nora opined: "That’s terrible! What are you going to do now?" Elsie thought for a moment and replied: “I think I’ll go to the chippy!”.

Isn’t it fascinating how potatoes give us not only French fries, but vodka too! All the other vegetables should sort their life out and step up to the plate!

A shady character in my local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife, asked if I wanted to buy a pocket calculator. I politely declined and told him in no uncertain terms: "No thanks, I already know how many pockets I have." The wife suggested, on the way to the pub, I drop my trousers at the dry cleaners, which I did. I got a round of applause but was banned from ever going in there again.

                                           

Master of bunkum and baloney, Chester Draws was on the prowl in his Double Glazed Windows company's reception area when he spotted a bloke languishing in the corner, doomscrolling on his phone. He asked him outright: "What are you doing?" The fella replied; wasting my time until I get paid." Chester was furious. "What is your monthly salary?" The guy replied: “Fifteen hundred quid.” Chester then counted out £1500 in cash and gave it to the man. "Take this money and get out! You don't work here anymore!" The bloke silently took the money and left. Chester walked up to the reception. "By the way, who was that guy?" With all the dignity that she could muster, the receptionist sez: "Pizza delivery."

I was in a Top Man store trying to buy a plain grey pin-striped jacket. The cashier asks for my email for the receipt. I told her: “No thanks. Just the jacket is fine.” She stops scanning, looks me dead in the eyes, and whispers: “Please just give me a fake one. My manager tracks my capture rate.” I panic and blurt out, batman@hotmail.com. She types it in, nods slowly, and says: “Thank you for your valued custom, Mr Wayne.”

Thursday Quiz: Q) How do you apply Tartan Paint? A) With a Bay City Roller.

I visited my local Chinese takeaway last night, and she asked me if I'd like to hear The Specials. They gave me Too Much Foo Yung....

                                              

Summer tales from the Scropton Street Back Snicket...

                    

It’s Saturday, and the heat has settled over Scropton Street like a damp towel someone forgot to wring out. Thirty‑six degrees, the kind of temperature that makes even the brickwork sweat. You stand at your window, watching the neighbourhood come to life in its usual, unhinged choreography.

Up the back snicket, the miscreants are stirring — a slow, feral awakening. Paddling pools materialise from sheds like relics of a forgotten civilisation, each one held together by 79% masking tape and 21% blind optimism. Four kids are already submerged in one, splashing around with a lolloping Lurcher and Uncle Derek, who’s cooling his cans of Carlsberg in the same tepid broth.

The shirtless tattooed blokes have emerged for their annual migration, pale as Matthews Turkey Twizzlers now, destined to resemble lobster thermidor by teatime. They still insist they “don’t burn, me,” even as their shoulders audibly sizzle.

The air outside is a cocktail of Factor 30, Lynx Africa, Hollands meat‑and‑potato pies, and the rancid pong of No. 32’s wheelie bin, which has been quietly fermenting since last Monday. Non‑Stick Nora is parading her new £15 fan from B&M like she’s installed full air‑con, while Barmy Albert’s nan sits in her conservatory in a buttoned‑up cardigan muttering, “It’s not that warm.”

The local Facebook group is already in meltdown. Half the posts are “Is this your dog?” The other half are people complaining about children screaming. It’s the first sunny weekend in eight months — they’re feral now. Accept it.

Tommy Grabknuckle is washing his Skoda with Fairy Liquid, blasting Max Bygraves’ 12‑inch Megamix cassette loud enough for three postcodes to harmonise. By early evening, two blokes will be arguing about whose turn it is to fetch more ale, someone’s kid will have lost his front teeth, and the air ambulance will probably be landing because Big and Daft Dave has attempted a somersault off the dog kennel into two feet of water.

Burnham BBC Breaking News Breakfast Bulletin....

 Young Woody Eckerslyke told Barmy Albert: "I'm having a clandestine dalliance with the vicar's wife. Could you distract him and have a long conversation about God and the bible in church for an hour after the service for me?" Woody asked. Albert wasn't comfortable with the concept, but as a good pal, he reluctantly agreed. Once the service ended, Albert began engaging the vicar with all sorts of pointless questions in an effort to buy Woody some time. Eventually, the vicar grew impatient and asked Albert what he was really up to. Riddled with guilt, Albert finally confessed, "Look, I'm very sorry. My mate Woody is having an assignation with your missus right now, and he asked me to keep you distracted." The vicar paused for a moment, smiled warmly, and with all the decorum that he could rally, placed a comforting hand on Barmy Albert's shoulder and sez: "You might want to hurry home, dear boy," he said. "My wife died over two years ago.”

                                                            

                                              

Andy Burnham visited one of the poorest towns in the North of England yesterday and asked the local mayor what the three priorities were to revitalise the area. “The first is the hospital”, he said. “It’s there, but there are just not enough doctors and nurses to fully staff it. Andy pulls out his cell phone, talks for a couple of minutes, and then announces: “Done. When I become Prime Minister, a team of doctors and nurses will arrive at the end of the month” “The second is the potholes; they’re everywhere” He picks up the cell phone again, says a couple more words, and announces: “Sorted! When I’m PM, they’ll be filled within a month. “And the third?” He asks. “The third is cell phones,” the mayor replies. “There’s just no signal whatsoever, and nothing works around here.”



Last weekend, I got home from a gig, and the wife wasn’t there; all her stuff was gone, and her wardrobe was empty. Then right in the middle of the TV screen, I spotted a Post-it note. It read as follows: “This isn’t working – Goodbye.” However, when I picked up the remote control and switched the telly on, it was working perfectly; Graham Norton was on, interviewing Madonna. The missus had me worried for a minute or two there. She’s in a bad place right now. Not mentally, just Gorton town centre.


                                                                

Q) What’s green, fuzzy, and if it fell out of a tree, it would kill you?

A) A pool table.


                                  

A harridan with a face like a bulldog licking frog spawn from a thistle was in Tesco yesterday morning. She put the divider down for the bloke behind her in the queue. He didn't thank her, so she just picked it up and put it back. Honestly, that level of curmudgeonly, misanthropic pettiness was just awesome to witness.





A Moscow citizen goes to buy a car. He goes through all the endless red tape and bureaucracy, fills out the copious paperwork, and counts out all his rubles to pay for the car in advance. The official stamps his papers and says: "All right. Everything is in order. Come back in exactly ten years to pick up your car." The buyer scratches his head and asks: "Should I come back in the morning or the afternoon?" The official gets annoyed: "It's ten years from now! What difference does it make?" The citizen replies: "Well, the plumber is scheduled to come in the morning."



Here we are, 30-odd years on, and the Spice Girls' music has really stood the test of time. It's still bobbins!



An airline pilot goes to his wife and declares: "All my mates are telling me you are having an affair with an air traffic controller." "No, Roger.", says his wife with a big sigh, "I'm not having an affair with an air traffic controller. If I've told you once, I've told you niner-niner times. Roger. Over."

                                             

Non-Stick Nora has two handsome admirers. One of them is a doctor, and the other is a deaf guy. Every day, the doctor gives Nora a red rose. And every day, the deaf bloke gives her an apple.
One day, Nora asks the deaf geezer: "Hey, that doctor friend of mine gives me a red rose every day, and I get the symbolism of that. But why do you give me an apple a day?" And the deaf guy sez: "Eh?”



It was roasting hot last week, and we all should be thankful that it wasn’t snowing. Just imagine trying to shovel snow in that heat!

                                                                      

The thin line between success and failure...

                                                 

The missus was on the warpath. She shouted at me: “You’ve been sat here watching Wimbledon tennis day in and day out. You have no consideration for how I feel. I bet you can't even remember how many years we've been together!" "Fifteen Love," I replied. That’s when the fight started!

It’s Saturday, and it’s 36 degrees. All the miscreants and reprobates who are domiciled up Scropton Street back snicket are awakening. The paddling pools have appeared from the rear of the shed. Every front garden has one that is 79% masking tape and 21% optimism. There are at least four kids ensconced in it, one lolloping Lurcher, and Uncle Derek cooling his cans of Carlsberg in the same tepid water. The shirtless tattooed blokes have emerged like they’re migrating for summer. Pale as a packet of Matthews Turkey Twizzlers at 12 noon, then resembling a lobster thermidor by teatime, still insisting, “I don’t burn, me.” The ambience outside is a fascinating mix of Factor 30, Lynx Africa, Hollands meat-and-potato pies, coupled with the rancid pong of No 32’s wheelie bin that’s been percolating nicely in the heat since a week last Monday. Non-Stick Nora has purchased a 15-quid fan from B&M and is acting like she’s installed full air conditioning in her hovel. Meanwhile, Barmy Alberts nan is sat in the conservatory wearing a buttoned-up cardigan and opining: “It’s not that warm.” The local Facebook group is in meltdown. Half the posts are “Is this your dog?” The other half are people moaning about kids playing outside. “Can they stop screaming?” Karen, it’s the first sunny weekend we’ve had in about eight months. They’re feral now. Accept it. Meanwhile, Tommy Grabknuckle is washing his Skoda with Fairy Liquid while blasting Max Bygraves’ 12inch Megamix cassette tape on his ghetto-blaster loud enough for three adjacent postcodes to sing along to. By early eventide, there’ll be at least two blokes arguing over whose turn it is to visit the corner shop to buy more ale, someone's kid will have lost his two front teeth, and the air ambulance will probably be landing because Big and Daft Dave thought it’d be a good idea to somersault off the dog kennel into two feet of water. Such is life.

                         

 

Fascinating Fact: In football, there's a thin line between success and failure. It’s called Hadrian's Wall.

Further Fascinating Fact: Many moons ago, Little Richard once helped me with the gardening. He lopped all the rhubarb; he lopped bamboo.

TV Top Tips: Watching a fabulous show on Netflix called “The Snotty Conk.” It’s streaming now!
                                  

Back in the day, Adam Ant sold me a guitar for fifty quid, but he told me that for an extra tenner, he would throw in a Stand and Deliver…

 
Young Woody Eckerslyke asked Barmy Albert if he could help re-turf an entire field so he can stage a civil war re-enactment over the Bank Holiday weekend. Albert said: “Sod that for a game of soldiers!”


The missus will NEVER have to worry about me being unfaithful. She’d have to arrange it, forward plan it and then remind me of what time I’m supposed to be there. Then she’d have to tell me what to wear and yell at me while I’m getting ready and tell me that I’m going to be late.

Renowned master of bunkum and baloney, Chester Draws was in his local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife, trying to chat up his ex-wife in a futile effort to rekindle their failed relationship. However, she wasn’t having any of his pleading, because she realised that he was only after his money back! Divorce is like algebra. You look at the X and think Y?



Thought for Thursday: A baby’s laughter is one of the most wonderful sounds that you will ever hear. Unless it is 3 am, you are home alone, and you don’t have a baby…

                                                  

Phew! What a scorcher!

                                  

Great news for Scotland fans! If you purchased your Scotland shirt during the World Cup, you should still be eligible for the 14-day returns guarantee. 

Barmy Albert phoned young Willy Eckerslyke yesterday and sez: "I've just had a massive argument and a fight with Non-Stick Nora. Have you got a spare bed for a few weeks, until I can find a flat?" "I'm afraid not," Willy replied, "but I've got a sofa, if that's of any help." "Spot on!" he said. "You're an absolute superstar. I'll send her round in a bit."

After all the roasting-hot weather last week, I've been convinced that I require some manner of cation. However, I need to ascertain if it's a vacation, staycation, medication or maybe intoxication. I apologise for the alliteration.



Upon entering 10 Downing Street, Andy Burnham discovered a letter from Sir Kier Starmer. A short cover note informed him: "Welcome to your new job. Please find herewith three envelopes. Open and use when the going gets tough". So, all is well for the first few weeks, and then Andy finds himself facing increasing criticism and pressure, so he opens the first envelope and reads: "1) Blame the previous government". He makes some speeches in parliament and for the press, and the criticism and pressure subsided for a brief spell. However, nothing lasts forever, and poor Andy discovers his approval rating is beginning to suffer. So, he opens the second envelope and reads: "2) Blame the media". With a few suitable speeches, he manages to convince his detractors that he is the victim of a concerted campaign by the media in the pocket of his enemies, and once again, all is well for a while. Unfortunately, things get worse once again, and Andy Burnham finally turns to the third envelope. Taking a deep breath to avoid a panic attack, he opens it, unfolds the paper inside and reads: "3) Prepare three envelopes."
                                        

Barmy Albert's boss asked him, “Why do you come out in a terrible rash when I give you your wage packet? Albert thought for a moment and replied, “It’s because I’m allergic to peanuts!” Non-Stick Nora knew of his nut allergy and used to play Russian Roulette with him, using a bag of Revels…



It’s a sad depiction of society today, when you hide under the bed naked to surprise your wife, then remember you don’t have a wife, and now you’re banned from IKEA.



I woke up this morning with a face full of yellow rice. I must have nodded off as soon as my head hit the Pilau…



Octogenarian Tommy Grabknuckle was sitting at the bar of his local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanleyknife with a saturnine grimace and looking quite forlorn. "Wassup Tommy?" asks Dastardly Derek, the landlord. Tommy tells him, "I got the words 'Jacuzzi' and 'Yakuza' mixed up." "So?" asks the bartender. And Tommy replied: "Now I'm in hot water with the Japanese Mafia."



Renowned master of bunkum and baloney, Chester Draws is playing golf by himself on a quiet Sunday morning. He comes to a par three over the water and takes out an old scuffed-up ball to hit. As he addresses the ball, he hears a heavenly voice: "Put down a new ball." He looks around, then goes to his bag and unwraps a brand-new Titleist Pro V and tees it up. He hears the majestic voice again: "Take a practice swing." So, he steps back and takes his practice swing. He hears the voice again: "Put down an old ball."
                                         

Do any of my readers know how I can get rid of eight full-grown lions? I think I misunderstood the meaning of ‘Pride Month’.



After an awful argument with the mother-in-law, I told her that there’s a special place in Hell reserved especially for her. Without any hesitation, she gave me an evil smile and sez: “Yes. It’s called a throne!”

                         

 

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 compered 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!