DID YOU KNOW IT WAS ILLEGAL TO OWN A NUCLEAR BOMB? 'COS I DIDNT!...

As i was slurping at my 47th gallon of tea of the day i was watching the 'BEEB' news. This to help me to help you by keeping my finger on the pulse of just what is occurring in our great wide world. One thing that came out is the rocketing numbers of rules and regulations n' laws n' stuff. This mass of laws, etc , covers virtually everything. So, whatever your doing, you better stop it right away, as its probably illegal. One of the rules ,is that, apparently it's ILLEGAL TO OWN A NUCLEAR BOMB!!!... I mean did you know that? Because i certainly wasnt aware of it. When we moved into our new house in Warrington, after our few years in the far east, we brought a pile of stuff we'd aquired with us. A lot of this stuff ended up in the garage, shed or attic.
Our story begins in India. One day ,partaking in the KINGFISHER and COBRA beers in various boozers in the fine city of BANGALORE with a few friends , i got talking to a fellah ,in a bar, as you tend to during the aquiring of 'a skinfull'. He sold me an old nuclear missile and warhead. It was old Russian army stock, which the Indians ,always people with an eye for a bargain were swallowing up. Lynne went up the wall. I had to take the MIG FIGHTERS and the AIRCRAFT CARRIER back. The nuclear missile got lost amongst the LOVELY LYNNES stuff.

So after the news i got a shock when i was getting the lawnmower out of the shed and there in the corner was the nuclear war head. A little dusty and rusty and droplets of URANIUM 235 on the floor glowing away. I thought,"maybe i'd better get rid of some of this junk", as THE LOVELY LYNNE is always going on to me about doing. I thought of selling the warhead and booster together on E-BAY(UK), but i didnt know how much to charge for postage for the booster assembly.I mean it wouldnt be worth selling after all the wrapping and cellotape. And i bet ,even if i did wrap and stamp it . It wouldnt fit in the letterbox and that miserable cow in the post office wouldnt take it over the counter. The only thing i can think of is the local carboot sale, up the road. As even the charity shops wouldnt take the stuff. "Some days you just can't get rid of a( nuclear) bomb!"( Thanks to ADAM WEST in BATMAN,THE MOVIE for that immortal quote!).... Gawd! its hardwork being a honest law-abiding citizen

THE GOOD OLD BRITISH PUB IS DYING, BUT THE GOOD OLD BRITISH HANGOVER IS FIT AND WELL !

I found this cartoon the other day, done a few years ago for an independant Liverpool brewery called Cains. Sadly the, once small, but highly successful brewery, i think has had to close up a while ago now. Which was/is sad, as it needn't have happened it was all down to some red tape involving the gobshites in Brussels;Westminister and Liverpool city council. Some might say that my idea of an ad campaign, focusing on the concept of the hangover wouldn't be something that would help the sales of beer. I would dispute this feverently, as in my considered opinion the hangover is what made the British great. As i have had many experiences of hangovers throughout my formative years, or what i can remember of them. I feel i can speak with some authority on the Great British Hangover. I, of course include my kith n' kin over in Ireland in this. Partly due to the boozy geography aspect, but also , because its 'The black stuff and an Irish wee one, as a chaser' which has been the main cause of my suffering , and as a result personal development through the years.

When Johnny Foreigner hits the bottle, it normally is ,a bottle. Whereas we Brits go all out on quantity rather than quality, after a few pints. There is something inherantly strange about drinking beer. The more you drink the faster it goes down and the more you can drink. You would find it totally impossible to drink 15 pints of ;water, milk, lemonade, etc....But 15 pint of black sludgey Guiness and it doesn't touch the sides. Nobody drinks like as we do. So, that is why our hangovers are like no others. Other countries get hangovers, of course they do, but our hangovers are truly British hangovers.

It is said when people, die on an operating theatre, they see a golden light, etc, etc. The hungover, virtual corpse, sees nothing but impeneterable blackness as they lie in 'their pit' like a dead jellyfish on the beach. Eventually as the 'body' becomes aware that, unfortunatly they are still alive and have to wake and face the pain and suffering that is waiting on the other side of those tightly closed eyelids. The hangover incorporates every symptom of every disease virus, bug, injury or bang on the head that you could catch, be infected by, be hit by or inflict upon yourself. It has ;headaches, blindness; Nasal and sinus problems and blockages; Furry tongues; Inflamed throats; Flemmy lungs; Incredibly upset and volatile stomach, gastric and intestinnal problems; Bowel disorders; Nervous disorders causing damage to co-ordination. Even the most simple and natural of tasks become virtually impossible. The body temperature veers madly between raging almost fever like high temperatures to shivering chills.......And we do this to ourselves, for fun and pay (increasingly) large amounts of money to do it . But there is a cure, but it takes a cast iron stomach and courage beyond belief to attempt the cure........... A GOOD GREASY FRY-UP...(As frowned upon by good doctors everywhere.)....Followed by a stumble down the road to the local boozer, if it hasn't closed down, yet for A COUPLE OF PINTS!!!!...(As frowned upon by good politicians everywhere).. It's a case of if it doesn't kill you, it'll cure you. There, y'see, If we can survive and joke about this level of suffering we are indeed a hardy breed, possibly not the most sensible of hardy breeds, but pretty hardy.