The mighty woke onslaught continues apace! I was astounded to hear that Mr Potato Head has been renamed as Potato Head, in a gender-neutral rebrand by makers Hasbro. Will the makers change their own name too, because it contains the word ‘bro’. I think we should be told! What kind of a planet do we inhabit, when we have to reassign the gender of a plastic toy spud?
According to the Boris roadmap, we can go for a beer inside the pub on June the 21st. Taking this into account, I sez to the missus, start getting ready and get yourself all dolled up because we’re going out to the finest restaurant and on a big night out in 74 days time! Fast forward to 74 days time: I shout upstairs “Are you ready yet?” She replies: “I told you an hour ago, I’ll be ready in 5 minutes…”
The Boris roadmap continues: It advises that on 12th April you can have a drink outside the pub, but the pub itself will be empty? Needs more thought this does. It’s on a par with the Scotch egg farrago.
You have to be careful what you say. I told the wife: “You are negative.” She replied: “Really! Well you are arrogant and a total narcissist. You care for nobody but yourself. Furthermore, you’re miserly skinflint that would make Scrooge look like a benevolent philanthropist and you are a fat, ugly wastrel and a total disgrace!” With all the dignity that I could muster, I sez: “I was just letting you know that your Covid test was negative…”
There’s a massive difference between a quiet woman and a silent woman. The first one is a miracle, whereas, the second one is a time bomb! Exercise extreme caution!
The kids are back to school! Teacher sez: Give me a sentence which includes the following words: Defence, defeat and detail. Little Nellie replied: When a horse jumps over defence, defeat goes first and then detail.
Harry and Meghan have contacted Tottenham Hotspurs F.C in order to ascertain what it’s like to carry on without a title. Last week, they went to see the Oprah. Could this be their swansong?
One moment you are 21 years of age, stopping up all night long and boozing with Tommy Cooper in the Broadway Club on Oldham Road, leaving at 6 am and getting just 4 hours kip, but still back in Manchester town centre the following night because you’re appearing at The Long Bar all week and all the other acts congregate there after their respective gigs, so you are burning the midnight oil yet again, but not before sauntering into Chinatown for prawns in garlic and half a crispy duck with pancakes. Suddenly at 60 years old, you’re scoffing All-Bran and going to bed at 9pm, waking up every three hours for a wee, worrying all night because of all the lockdown problems and you can’t go dog walking coz you pulled a muscle putting your on socks yesterday! Isn’t life grand when you’re barmy?