Show Us What Yer Made Of - But Don't Tread In It.

The bad news is that some local dog or other left us a little pile on our pathway today, - the good news is that a Jehova's Witness trod in it! Presumably on his way to deliver his sermon to our good selves. We didn't actually answer the door to him, but maybe we should have, as it proves to me there actually is a God after all.
Overheard conversation in the gym the other day. - "So, Mary, how's Trevor, is he not coming in today?".
"No, he's had to take the car into the garage.It broke down yesterday just outside Layton and he phoned me in a panic. He says "I've just broken down, - phoned the AA and they've refused to come out!". I said, "Well, they would do, we're in the RAC aren't we? - I mean how can you forget that?!" - I had to agree.

Although it's rained nearly every day since I've been here in Blackpool, I'm still loving it, especially the "Cumberland Bar Reunion" a couple of weekends ago. Oh how lovely to see Charlie No-Nuts, Tommy Sunfly, Big Babs, Dozey Dave from the day centre, Mad Mozzer the mad midget from Runcorn and all the rest of the loons.

Thou Talks Through Thine Arse

Went to the east coast this week and during this time I went to see "Midsummer Night's Dream" in Scarborough, - it was either that or The Chuckle Brothers. This was my first flirtation with a Shakespeare play, (though I have heard of him) and far from being bored to death, or distracted by the all modern Bear Pit like auditorium or flummoxed by the flowery language and costumes, - It just plain baffled the socks off of me!
The plot seemed a little complex and somewhat bizarre to say the least, and was a sort of, Doctor Who, Monty Python, with bits of the "Star Challenge" on the end of Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer's  Shooting Stars hybrid.
With all the "Thee's" "Tha's"  and "Don't bugger about's", it's obvious that Shakespeare was a Yorkshire man and it was only when it was spoken in a Yorkie accent that I could make head or tail of it. It was lucky then that the chap who played "Bottom" was indeed a Yorkshire man and his striking resemblance to a bloke called Frank who was a fellow Postman with me back in the early 90's was the sole reason that kept me riveted until well into the 2nd half.
It's a wonder then how a good proportion of the audience for whom English wasn't their first language managed to get their head round it (I distinctly heard Scandinavian, German, Japanese and at least one Geordie voice in there during the interval), but they all stayed to the end, laughed in all the right places and generally seemed to enjoy the experience.
Overall, I'm glad I went, if only to marvel at how the hell the actors manage to learn such vast chunks of script that doesn't actually make any sense at all, their skill at voice projection and annunciation and attention to detail - Puck was depicted as having a shocking case of Malaria for the whole play for some reason. Summing up then, I can honestly say it was an enlightening experience - but it'll be The Chuckle Brothers next time thank you.