...one of the few remaining decent sports in this country of ours, and all the more satisfying for the high levels of skill it requires. The first step of course is to hide behind a bush and make a noise like...
...a lettuce in distress. Elusive or nay, the pickle will undoubtedly become curious, and drop his or her guard, and that, dear reader, is when you must strike, and strike true. Now, most importantly...
...you will need a sharp cleaver or axe. I prefer to use an Acme Xtrasharp #43, honed like a razor and as light as a feather. Incidentally, they also make a superb nailfile, which is excellent for picking locks. Hold the axe in balance and take a....
...the wild pickle to blanch and then jump headlong into your creel or other ready container. Mind you, you must act swiftly while the pickle is still stunned by fright. Then take the pickle inside. Halve it, chop, and add to the tuna mixture. Be careful not to ...
focus too much on some random chuntey experience whilst withdrawing from Crack Cocaine and muse about the nets that strangle dolphins and your ex lovers. Embrace Christ and her...
seven dwarves, Dave, Dee, Dozey, Beaky, Mick and Titch. My, there appears to be one missing. I wonder where I left him (or her, to be politically correct)? Ah, yes! I remember, it was....
...me and some guys from school had a band and we tried real hard. Jimmy quit and Jody got married, I should have known we'd never get far. But when I look back now that summer seemed to last forever, and if I had the choice I'd always want to be there. Those were the best days of...
...simple fact that band members always get married, or fall in love, or, in any case, care about something else other than the band. But in '69 we were all recovering from the Chicago convention and many other life altering events. We had no hope that year and so when we thought about entertaining and recipes and such, we almost automatically turned to ...
..Mrs Beatons most excellent, if now somewhat arcane, cookery books. It is not well known but Mrs Beaton was actually my Grandmother's, friends, cousins nextdoor neighbour. They used to have such a laugh chatting over the fence. She once told us the story of how she first caught the pheasant that she used in her classic recipe Pheasant stuffed with chestnut and aubergine chutney . It was amazing to hear her laugh, it sounded like...
..was throttling a cat whilst being hacked to death by my wife. This was a harrowing experience, particularly when re-lived in the cold light of day - this was when I realised that...
*sighs* Ignore me! [rab] the website now seems to add your entries automatically when you "haven't seen the latest moves", when it used to give you the chance to change them! is there anything i can do about that?
..American films, where they are always portrayed as either superior beings or fawning snobs. Now where was I? Oh, yes, my dream. At least I think it was a dream, but I was floating gently just above a...
..., a question so intriguing I decided to make it the basis of my new arthouse film, "'Do! The Locomotion Story", which was recently nominated for a palm d'or and three...
..filmstar shedding tears and saying "darling" every other word during acceptance speech. It is not well known, but I once appeared in a film. I was one of the extras in "Far from the Madding Crowd" you could just see me as the camera panned past the...
..the Hunchback of Notre Dame, naturally, with my looks I was chosen for the lead role. I can remember the look on the make-up artists face when she came into my dressing room. Then she doubled up with laughter and ran hysterically out into the set falling flat on her face among the gargoyles and bells. The producer took exception to that incident and replaced me with Jimmy Krankie, but he did offer me the part of the rat in the sewer. Moving on..
..move on when I realized that in fact the face was that of David Blunkett. That gave me even more of a turn and I was about to leg it when a door opened and....
..simulation of the World War I trenches from Flanders. I like poppies, don't you? The look so lively and bright with their pretty red faces bobbing above the..
...horrifically mangled corpses of young men. Fine, strong young men, called to do their duty. Fine gardeners all! But no good as bomb disposal experts. Oh well! That reminds me, one of them was called Jimmy and his last words to me were...
..Miss Farquar-Harrington, the geography teacher, she always used to lean over our shoulders to explain something but we could never hear a thing as her ample bosom used to muffle our ears. She also used to have terrible BO which she tried to disguise with cheap perfume from Woolworth which used to smell of aniseed. I think it was called...
...Shmoo or somthing like that! The other thing about Miss Farquar-Harrington that springs to mind was her amazing quiff of black greasy hair. It was thought that she got the idea for it from....
...written by a meat eater with a twisted sense of humour. The recipe for Tofu with chick peas and black bean sauce, for example, included lamb's eyes, pig's trotters and...
...refused to ignite properly. That was when I knew there was something fishy about the recipe (besides the shark steak and cans of tuna) as I never previously had a problem with incendiary cooking, whether purposely or no. I earned the Pulitzer Prize for my letter of complaint to that magazine, which of course...
That Dennis the Menace had already thought of that scam. Ah, well! Returning for a moment to Mr Llewelyn, the local bookie. I sems like only yesterday that I found that £50 note outside the Labour Exchange and nipped in to the betting shop and placed £25 each way on Foinavon in the Grand National. How we celebrated that night (all except Mr Llewelyn, that is), down at the Aligator and Ferret. Why, that was when I first discovered that....
... conduct myself in a manner befitting my regal status; unfortunately, shortly after making everyone in the pub kneel before me, I passed out. The next morning ...
...it was all over the tabloids that I had the makings of a fine Russian leader in me. Unfortunately, it was also all over the broadsheets that some Bolshevik Fundamentalists wished to claim my life in the name of eternal communism, so then and there I had to...
...take up dancing. I'd had ballet lessons as a youngster so I thought, the Bolshevik's could use a good dancer in the Bolshoi. Heck, even the names are similar. So I wrote away for a tutu. Imagine my surprise when the postman arrived one day, accompanied by...