Invasion!

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Burglar Bill

Burlar Bill

Burglar Bill answered the door
A chicken stood outside
Pecking a small policeman
"Come In" said Bill,
"and pull up a swag bag,
sit yourself down and
Have some truncheon meat
sandwiches".

Arresting him he replied
"You have lied to me,
Bill you scurvy knave."
The chicken pulled the switch
And the front door slammed
"My finger!" Bill screamed
Overcome with guilt
and indegestion.

The Fidle Of Girrmstone

The forth part of the Girrmstone trilogy by the acclaimed author who also wrote The Bucketh Of Cithtard and My Swanlike Trilbs. A stunning adventure set on the South Seas of Iceland and involving the Cod Wars of 1878 and dodo smugglers.
The story is a long and involved yarn with many spools and tangled strings - looms of a many webby fronds and mangles , whose origins are lost in the fringes of time.
Part soap opera and part sci-fi seafaring tale the reader is plunged into a world of mutant tea cups and piratical teapots. The main protagonist- Stuffid Maltravers has been left the famed Fidle of Girrmstone in his late uncles will and travels to Iceland to collect it. On way he has many adventures including being shipwrecked , being laughed at by brigands, having scalding tea tipped down his trousers and discovering the Lost Island of the Dodo.

Donkey Business

Donkey Business

We're off to Colwyn Bay to gather bath buns
Up to our knees in hay and turnips
We shout at Neddy to strum his fun
A basket on his head for trips

Gradual Pythonic Deriavations

The tinkle of the cheese grater - the elk hiding under the duvet
Reminds me of my vestibule- the outer coverings of creosote
Creative spoonfilled lumpen gravy - clobbered in hay
laughing like a drain - crying like an old steam boat

fetch me my grey flannels - the onnes made of newspaper
My edam trilby and Goya's favourite hillbilly pipes
The one with the fringe on the top - and the edge of fur
Lift up the corners now - say hello to the packet of wet wipes

Guest Artist - Roger Radio

Space Cucumber

Meanwhile back on Space Cucumber Nine , Polly and Peregrine were perplexed by the sudden arriavl of Space Cucumber Seven that wasnt due to dock until the 14th ( St. Gherkin's Day ). They pressed their noses on the porthole glass and watched as the Biognomic Flangles gripped the spunnions and sent tiny shards of space crystals out into the starry void. The light was so intense they put on their smokey visors so as not to damage their eyes. Once , Captain Trilby of the Wally Cadets looked out and forgot to wear his and he was blinded for a week and had to spend the whole time in sick bay with a Venusian Flannel over his face.
A strange grunting noise came from the outer deck as the nanoplanks rubbed against the bilge pumps. It sounded not unlike a Martian Goat flossing it's antlers.

The Handbag Snatchers

Ee by gum! It's a reet crime wave going on't street what with the whippet rustling and chip buttie flinging. The Phantom Hot Pot pilferer has never been caught either our chuck. Now the latest from Oswaldtwizzle Road - Ena managing to lasoo a sneak thief with her hair net - but he snipped through it with a sharp frozen haddock he had concealed about his person and made a getaway.
The Rovers was a gog with excitemant and yatter. Even Ena felt it hard to get a word in scrimmage ways. Our Ken told them to have a bit of 'ush. Wilma told them about the police and the sniffer dogs round the corner shop eyeing up the treacle toffee and bull's eyes. Joe Longbottom interjected that street was going to dogs and everyone laughed ecept Ena who remembers the time a corgi nibbled her fetlocks down t'Co-op.
Now the hand bag snatcher is abroad and in daylight as common as yer please too! The only description being a short swarthy chap with a goitre and a nasty rash on one of his necks.

Singing Dingo

Captain Helmet

Ah the thrilling days of yesteryear and those Saturday morning flicks - the big feature, the cartoon and the creaky black and white serial in 12 jaw dropping episodes. The Flaming Cube and The Robot Hens, Mr. Invisible and the Plant People, Smudge Gargoyle and the Planet of Fertilizer to name but a few. My absolute favourite was Captain Helmet - Queen of the Flatosphere. A serial so full of gadgets and cliff hanger endings it almost topples over on its side with the weight of them and dies!
Captain Helmet and his Helmet Rangers has to save the universe from the evil Emporer Pong and his robotic warriors from the planet Zlurg, who are bombarding earth with a mysterious custard gas which turns everyone into his slaves and Emporer Pong has enlisted the help of evil scientist Dr. Prang and his henchment who will stop at nothing to get rid of Captain Helmet and his Rangers every ten minutes and you find them dropping into ravines, down wells, mineshafts, in burning shacks. over cliffs, in burning dynamite factories etc. Somehow Captain Helmet manages to escape in the nick of time and every week is able to do battle again with his cardboard ray guns and his bakelite thermo blaster - not to mention the brain wobbling beam.
What joy we had in running home afterwards to make our own ray gun from an old plastic Squeezy bottle and an egg carton and re-living the whole episode all over again!

Cat To Dog

Cat to dog and back again
Robot kitty to robot doggie
Strange metamorph of my pet
Round again and back to moggie.

How Much?

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck would chuck wood? That's the age old question we all have to ask ourselves. The answer comes back - " Quite a large heap of three ply, two be one, and some offcuts".

Biggles Aftershave

Michael Bentine

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Piece of chair becomes many things in the hands of a genius.

Falsies

I've tied her to the railroad track
Now I laugh and twirl my moustache
Ha ha! Nobody can save you now!

But who's this? Big Jim Rivit!
He always spoils my fun
Riding up on his white horse
With his gun spinning round
On the end of his thumb

Chickens

I dropped my shoe from the upstairs loo
Out popped a chicken and a away it flew.
I dropped my chicken the the garden shed
Out popped a great big hard boiled egg.

Custard Sheep Dip

Custard sheep dip
Makes my wooly jumpers
Plumper like no other
Treacle goat nip
Gathers fluff for farmers
Under the drippy lip
Of Old MacDonald's mother

Down on the farm
We keep the blancmange
Soft and wobbly
Inside the charm bracelet
Not the knobbly
Tree stump where the jelly
Is hidden under felt
Wanting a new job
Like harvesting wellies

The Other Side

Do you remember the blackout- the smell of trench foot - the pulsating rhythyms of Gerlado and His Orchestra? Those were the days when comics were full of free gifts and only cost a penny. The Squirting Face Flannel- The Sticky Pink Biscuit - The Joke Ironing Board etc. Oh the hilarity. The playground was awash with tears of joy every Wednesday when the Beano and Dandy appeared ( or was it a Friday?). Anyway, awash it was. Jokes to fill a boys busby and giggles galore- enough for a bulging pocket of conkers or a bag of sherbet mice. Yes, the playground fun- the games! Hide The Leg- Dodge That Spit - Cough Up A Gobstopper.
Cigarette cards were my favourite. We used them as legal tender. Played "flickies" and swapped them for the sets we wanted. I was keen on Cricketers of Colonies and anything with drooling monsters like Wireless Stars of Yesteryear- Wilfred Pickles, Doris Chutney and Betty Piccalilly.

Tickling The Ivories

They laughed when I sat down at the piano but when I stated to play - they still laughed. But, after several hundred lessons with Prof. Stanislav Von Gerbilov I could tickle the ivories with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. I was invited to play at the most prestigious concert halls in the world and appeared on prime time television to the astonishment of all who knew me before I had my lessons.
The secret is in the ancient Gypsy art of crystal hedgenology, where by my fingers were pinned to the keyboard by clothes pegs dipped in a mysterious Gypsy ointment and the spirits of Liberace and Toscanini were called upon by the Head Fiddler.

Dilly

My old man said follow the van.