Anubis the Jackal

My late Grandfather was a miner, Welsh as Dame Shirley Bassey's home-made Leek and Caerphilly soup, but he moved as a young man to the Kent coal-fields. It's strange how few people realise that there were pits in the South-East and that when they were closed, whole communities were destroyed, especially as the local fishing fleet had been all but scuttled.

I'm a big cricket fan, but have deliberately abstained from posting here, as I know from bitter experience the pains of supporting England and the resultant hubris from premature congratulation Fair play to the convicts, they played superbly, but not playing 'The Best Finger Spinner In The World' ( © Duncan Fletcher) must rank as one of the worst decisions Fletcher has ever made

I take it then, Rita your annual visit to the world of Deathlist may have something to do with your playing a deadpool for hard cash?

A good motto for us all there.

Given her 'fragile' state of mind, she'll probably send him an 'Congratulations on Passing Your Driving Test' card and a badger. I wonder Mrs M Thatcher has time to send him a "get well soon" card!!!

Chapeau, M.TTG, Chapeau Very good Monoclinic. Whilst I enjoy a 'Smiths' based pun as much as the next man, (next charming man in fact), j'en ai marre with reading the same links.

Having spoken to someone who knows quite a bit about this case, it's incredibly unlikely that Barrymore will be found guilty. It's more the case that Lubbock's father, quite understandably, is lashing out in frustration at the death of his son, and can't stand the idea that he was found dead in the company of a 'known homosexual' © The Tabloid Press. The injury to the poor lads rear end was far more likely to have been inflicted post-mortem by a heavy-handed attempt to take a temperature rectally and the initial inquiry was almost certainly botched by a fame-struck coroner keen to get himself in the papers. Ah, don't you just love life in the 21st Century?

Indeed it was the very same 'truck-driver's gear change, so beloved of writers and producers with a distinct lack of imagination. I once played (I was young, I needed the money) in a god-awful barn dance band run by a religious fascist of a singer. For laughs one night, the bored musos in the band shifted each verse of a song up a semi-tone until he was sweating like a priest in a playground at the very top of his vocal range.... Then drop it by a tone without warning him. I wasn't asked back.

His 'bookie' is not the most generous of souls eh, Phantom?

Thanks for sharing that VT, I'll be having me tea a couple of hours later than planned tonight.

Marvellous idea on the grieving relative, VT. May I suggest Mrs Eartha Rawls?

Q. What is it that men do standing up, women do sitting down and dogs do on three legs? A. Shake hands.

I'm not going to read that link, I'm just going to revel in the poetry of those seventeen words for a while.

I think The Woggles should take care not to walk under any falling pianos for a few weeks. Top band, I'd advise giving them a look-see. The Wurzels and the Wiggles - bad week for badly named bands!

Back on topic for a second, wouldn't it be great if all Prime Ministers were named Gaidar?

"Not a lot"

Scream? Pasquale? Dunn?

Agreed, he's fairly useless at the moment. I went to a festival this year, looking forward to seeing him play the 'Solid Air' album. As I was wandering through the usual festival tat stalls, I said to my companion "What's this awful plodding sub-Phil-Collins-80's rock-dirge they're playing over the PA.?" (or words to that effect.)The answer, sadly, was that the mumbling monoped was live on stage. I found my entertainment elsewhere.

That'll be the Guinness then. Got a touch of that this morning myself. 'Paddys Revenge' I think it's called.

Although he's back on the road, touring his classic 'Solid Air' album, legendary folk mumbler John Martyn may be worth an outside shot. Heroically managed to be both a junkie and alchoholic for many years, punched Sid Vicious' lights out during one of his gigs, has recently (2003) had a leg amputated.

Again, very welcome sleuthing from Phantom, Deathlist parade-pisser-on-in-chief!

And another thing... I liked the silly old git when he was at Radio 1, and at least he had the intelligence to understand that he was too old and past-it for the R1 audience, unlike The 'Hairy Shitflake' Dave Lee Travis whose hilarious 'resignation' speech is available here (registration needed) The puffed-up old fart-knocker was going to be sacked a few days later anyway.

Sadly he wasn't one of our 'hits', pop-pickers. "At the Sign of the Swinging Scythe"

He's a cock. he was right!