Man Wanted For Questioning

Man Wanted For Questioning

Police this morning took the unusual step of issuing a detailed description of a man they wish to interview in connection with a wide range of serious offences.

The suspect is described as being of below average height, and of stout build, bordering on the obese.  He bears a great deal of facial hair, white in colour, consisting of moustache, full whiskers and a long flowing beard.  This may have the effect of partially disguising his facial features, which are said to consist of:

·         Twinkling, sparkly eyes;

·         Glowing, almost red, nose and a

·         Jovial grin, showing white teeth;

He is known to dress in a very recognisable outfit, which may include:

·         A bright red, two-piece suit, trimmed with white fur;

·         A matching red hat, also white-trimmed, tapering to a point with a white pom-pom;

·         A pair of black snow-boots, with trousers tucked in;

·         Black leather belt, tightly cinched at the waist;

·         A pair of wire-framed spectacles;

·         A bulging sack, carried over the left shoulder.

He is often seen wearing a broad grin, and is reported to frequently utter such phrases as “Ho, ho, ho!”, “Have you been good this year?” and “What can I do for you little girl?”

The suspect is wanted in virtually every country in the world.  Interpol have revealed that he is a global criminal, and uses many aliases and different identities to avoid detection and capture.  These include:

·         Kris Kringle

·         Santa Claus

·         Saint Nicholas

·         Father Christmas

·         and Sinterklaas

He is thought to be of North Pole-ish extraction, although his exact nationality is not known.  He has been reported to travel without a passport, crossing international frontiers undetected and with complete impunity.  His criminal associates include:

·         reputed “magic” elves, but also

·         pixies and

·         dwarves

He travels worldwide, using a high-speed sleigh (registration mark unknown), propelled by a number of reindeer, who go by such names as Rudolph, Donner, Blitzen, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet and Cupid, although these too are thought to be mere aliases.

Inspector Foot, of The Yard, stated:  “this is a very dangerous man, and he should not be approached by members of the general public.  Any sightings should be reported directly to the police, who will deal with the matter.  He is wanted in connection with a variety of crimes including:

·         paedophilia – he has been observed “grooming” small children, by offering them sweets and small presents, encouraging them in close, intimate contact by sitting them on his knee, inviting them to put their hands into his “sack” to pull out a goody, and by visiting them in schools, hospitals and children’s parties.  Through his so-called “charity” work, he has been given unfettered access to the bedrooms of small, sleeping children, where he has been free to carry on his sickening activities in comparative secrecy;

·         housebreaking and burglary – he has been reported entering a wide range of private houses without permission from the householder.  His specialism, and trade-mark, is in forcing an entrance by way of the chimney to the property;

·         fraud and deception – goods and services have been ordered from him, which have either never been delivered at all, or have been delivered in a different specification to that required.  When customers have attempted to contact this Mr Claus, no phone-number or business address has been discovered.  Mail sent to Mr Claus at The North Pole has been returned unopened;

·         Health & Safety and Industrial Relations violations – his workshops near the North Pole have been discovered to exploit elvic workers by paying less than the minimum wage, by denying rest-breaks to elves, and by operating these workshops under sweatshop conditions during certain seasons of the year, especially September to December, then laying workers off without pay in the January period;

·         Animal cruelty – his nine reindeer are reported to have been driven around the globe for long periods without a rest, pulling extremely heavy loads through appalling weather conditions;

Inspector Foot added:  “we would very much like to talk to this man.  He is known to go to ground for nine or ten months of the year, but usually makes a sudden rush of appearances around the Christmas period, when we are often inundated with sightings.  Our job has been made that much harder by the recent phenomenon of members of the public dressing up in imitation of the suspect.  However, I cannot stress strongly enough that this man is not a charming, quaint, folk-lore hero.  He is a vicious international criminal intent on spreading his particular blend of “tidings of great joy”.

A large reward, consisting of £500 of Comet vouchers, has been offered for any information leading directly to this man’s capture.

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

How To Cook Your Christmas Turkey

How To Cook Your Christmas Turkey

1.       Buy your turkey, free range or organic if possible

2.       Wash the turkey in cold running water, pat try & allow to sit at room temperature

3.       Have a glass of wine

4.       Prepare your mixture of choice, and stuff the turkey

5.       Have a glass of wine

6.       Bring the temperature of the oven up to 180C

7.       Put the stuffed turkey into a roasting dish, and put turkey in the oven

8.       Relax and have a glass of wine

9.       Turk the bastey every 30 minutes or so

10.   Wine a glass another get

11.   Hunt for the meat thermometer

12.   Glass yourself another pour of wine

13.   Turkey the bake for at leasht four hours

14.   When the clear run juices, done is the turkey

15.   Take the oven out of the turkey

16.   Bottle the finish of wine

17.   Relax the drink and have a glass of turkey

18.   Tet the sable

19.   Wonder where the roasht potatoesh and veggies are

20.   Get another wottle of bine

21.   Turk the carvey!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Chard Gratin

Recipe for: CHARD GRATIN

Ingredients:

• 750g chard
• 500ml cream
• 2 cloves garlic, crushed
• Nutmeg
• Salt & pepper
• 2 handfuls breadcrumbs
• 2 handfuls grated cheddar

 Method:

1. heat oven to 180C/ fan 170C
2. smear inside of a gratin dish with butter
3. wash the chard & separate stems & leaves
4. boil or steam the chard, giving longer to the stems than the leaves
5. drain & squeeze out excess moisture
6. layer the chard in the gratin dish
7. mix the cream with the garlic and a good grating of nutmeg, salt & pepper, then pour over the chard in the dish
8. scatter the top with breadcrumbs & cheese
9. bake in the oven for about 40 minutes, or until the top is golden & bubbling

 What else you need to know:

1. this recipe also works with spinach, fennel, broccoli etc

When I Am Sixty I Shall Wear A Hat

When I Am Sixty I Shall Wear A Hat

When I am sixty I shall wear a hat

Whether it be cold or not

I’m not sure what you think about the idea

The weather notwithstanding

I feel the time has come to adopt a little style

To assume a certain persona

A characteristic feature by which I am known

And seen about the town

I haven’t yet made a decision about the gloves and scarf

Although I think both are highly unlikely

For I do not want to be too encumbered

In my daily perambulations

But a modest titfer perched aloft

Covering what remains of my thin hair

May be that thing which is missing from my life

And makes a certain statement

And although it may slow me down

Owing to wind resistance

Its shape being unlikely to be streamlined

Perhaps I might appear a little taller

And people will recognise me from a distance

As I go about my daily business

And say to one another ‘there he goes –

That man who wears a hat because he’s sixty.’

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 29th November 2015

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 29^th November 2015

                                             

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

1.       The Parish Council has been thrown into political turmoil over the debate on whether to begin saturation bombing of Heddington.  Parish Councillors are split down the middle.  The Bromham Air Force is already carrying out selective drone raids against Seend Separatists, and the latest intention is to carry the fight over the border, in order to root out terrorist elements in their homelands.  Bromham’s Defence Threat Warning Level is now set to fairly dark orange (very miffed & quite afraid).

2.       Meanwhile villagers have begun their preparations for excessive spending in the lead-up to Christmas.  Following “Black Friday” (although every day is fairly black in Bromham), the village shop has run other promotions, such as “Spending Saturday” and “Sod It All Sunday”.  Next week it plans to run “Moron Monday”, “Twatface Tuesday”  and “Woeful Wednesday”.  However must shoppers are expected to stay indoors, do all their shopping online, and to spend the savings made on cheap cider in the pub.

3.       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Nativity

Nativity

Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be,

But I can’t help thinking of that day,

Right at the back end of the Fifties,

When I did my first Nativity Play.

We were in the first class of the Infants,

Young and innocent, no more than five or six,

When our teacher announced the production,

And we’d all be thrown into the mix.

There were to be parts for everyone,

Of that fact there should be no doubt,

For the school couldn’t cope with the aggro,

If any of the class were to be left out.

For parents would want to see their darlings,

Deep in the Christmas story engage,

Showing off to their friends and relatives,

Of their first public performance on stage.

None of us knew what to expect,

Because none of us had ever done it before,

But if we couldn’t have a major role,

We decided we didn’t want to play any more.

I didn’t get to play Joseph,

And the role of inn-keeper to me was denied,

I finally ended up as fifth shepherd,

I was so upset that I cried.

My mum thought my skill had been ignored,

And my talent not allowed to shine through,

Which just added to the misery,

But I was only five – what could I do?

Rehearsals were more than chaotic,

The teachers didn’t know how to lead,

And scripts were a complete waste of time,

Since not one of us could read.

So we did it by practising quite hard,

Repeating scenes over and over again,

Learning lines was a complete nightmare,

We were children trying to play men.

There was no proper stage to speak of,

You could see it was heading for a great fall,

So they just draped a large pair of curtains,

Right across one end of the hall.

Costumes were left up to the parents,

For each to interpret as they chose,

With no attempt to co-ordinate,

We ended with an array of odd clothes.

  

The shepherds used sheets and tea-towels,

There were cardboard gold crowns for the kings,

The Angel Gabriel was a fantastic sight,

Dwarfed by a pair of white paper wings.

Moustaches were drawn with burnt cork,

And false beards stuck on that were itchy,

Nobody could really see what they were doing,

And the inn-keeper’s wife turned a touch bitchy.

Joseph wore specs and a belted tunic,

Mary appeared in virginal white,

As they stumbled into Bethlehem,

And inaudibly asked for a room for the night.

The innkeeper, over-awed by the audience,

Forgot his lines and burst into tears.

Lots of shuffling at the edge of the stage,

Then the fulfilment of our worst fears.

The baby donkey, hired for the occasion,

Peed on stage, as we’d all hoped that he would:

A large pool spread between his feet,

And surrounded the cast where they stood.

You couldn’t get away from the squelching,

Though the actors were never in danger,

But most of the dialogue was lost,

As ox and ass waded into the manger.

The gold, the frankincense and myrrh,

Were dropped on to the swaddled-up child,

But the rising smell of fresh urine,

Was driving the audience wild.

At this point, the star fell from its perch,

And knocked the Angel Gabriel out cold.

The girls and boys started wailing,

And mayhem ensued, it has to be told.

The head teacher appeared with bucket and mop,

Halting proceedings with a bilious wince.

That brought an end to my acting career,

And I’ve hated Christmas ever since!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Black Friday

Black Friday

We had Black Friday when I was a child:

It was a warning issued every year -

A plea to be careful on icy roads,

To protect all that you ever held dear.

But now it’s about something different -

There’s been a big shift in the detail,

An American marketing trick,

A push to drive up shopping and retail.

A pre-Christmas discounting trick,

Post-Thanksgiving from across the Atlantic,

With bargains and prices knocked down,

Stimulating buying that’s frantic.

They build up the excitement on TV,

Encouraging you to snatch a cheap gift,

As if it’s in your best interest,

Instead of the old stock they want to shift.

Don’t think that they’re doing you a favour,

Don’t believe that one little bit,

You’re just clearing their shelves for them,

So they can sell you even more shit.

Strong elbows are the weapons you need,

To fight your way in for the best,

To get that sixty-inch screen in your bag,

Whilst shoving and pushing over the rest.

You can’t afford to take any prisoners,

If you want a bargain that’s fantastic,

It’s the devil-take-the-hindmost,

When you’re trying to load up your plastic.

The whole nation shows its frustration,

Scenes of fighting that are heart-rending,

There’s grabbing and jabbing and nabbing,

In pursuit of conspicuous spending.

Voices raised high with much shouting,

Like pack animals with their growling,

And the disappointed licking their wounds,

Crying with bitterness and howling.

Their behaviour becomes shameful,

The dominant males are beating their chest,

The women pouting and shouting,

The police move in to make an arrest.

  

It brings out the worst in human nature,

A vicious competitive streak,

Where only the strong are the winners,

As they rampantly trample the weak.

It’s a long way from the season of goodwill,

Bargain-hunters obsessed and gone manic,

A great bun-fight in the superstores,

With scenes of hysterical panic.

Perhaps we’ve lost sight of the bigger picture,

Of gift selection, or having a fun day.

Now it’s all credit and saving money,

So we can spend it on Cyber Monday.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015