Another dream over . . . . back to skittles & beer ! :(

My lad, Mr. R. Kydd, (BSc Hons but now, thanks to Tony, owing big bucks - what DID he spend it all on ?) recently learned a major lesson about his genetic inheritance when he went to get tickets for Peter Kaye's March 2003 concert in this uniquely cosmopolitan east-Pennine metropolis. He nipped out in his 'dinner hour' and the queue was gi-normous . . . Soon he was bursting for a widdle, as it was a bit parky, but was reluctant to give up his place, and so he 'endured' for nearly two hours. Later he made loud cursing comments to ME, as if it was all MY fault he had weeping lesions in the nethers !

"Na'then lad", sez I, "I've had to put up wi' the famous ancestral hand-me-down for a lot longer than thee . . better get used to it. Oh, and here's a good piece of advice. Always remember that, just like in your 'alphabetty piscetti', PEE comes before QUEUE . . . !" - He wasn't amused . . but he surely will be next Paddy's night when BOLeTON's finest hits town. (I'm taking one o' those crap pop bottles, in case needs must ! - Some bugger'll no doubt try to drink it afterwards.)

I'm under orders to cut down on the beer . . ! - It's as a result of taking the first tentative (as in medically qualified finger up the tradesman's) steps along the road to my date with destiny and the dreaded Dick Doctor. They took samples and weighed and measured me and, guess what ? - It's now been confirmed . . . I'm officially FAT ! - Well into the orange segment - not just plain old overweight, but bloody fat !

OUT go the occasional bacon butties, fish & chips, root & lung pies and Netto's version of Kit-Kats.

IN comes Purgatory . . . (It's that or Bulimia . . .Hmm !)

I'll be having to attempt a piss into some Heath Robinson-meets-Meccano-meets-Dr. Jekyll contraption soon. It could always be worse . . . some poor buggers have to earn a crust being roadies for the (insert name of Band-U-don't-like) . . . Do they get mandatory ear-defenders 'on the house', or is deafness a pre-requisite for the job ? - What like must it be ? - Yon Archer shoulda got 2000 hours wi' the likes o' them . . . either that or ten minutes lashed to the Bones PA on an average night. Did you all enjoy Denny's Jodrell Bank Interlude at half-time last time when he picked up ring-modulated signals from Dark Star ??

However . . . there's always a silver (-ish) lining . . . (which is a better colour than the normal hue of my family's underwear.)

The GOOD news is that 'they' have demolished one of the ugliest buildings in the city centre, wherein once dwelt a few notorious Town Hall Twats. The BAD news is that, as popularised by Elvis, they had already left the building. Help Ma Boab !

You can't always get what you want . . . but hey ! - It is the season for neeps an' tatties . . . not to mention sprouts.

Five portions a day . . . that's what the doctor ordered - Need I say more ?

Happy Deepawali, an' that !