Buuuuuuuuuuud's 35 today

Mother, daughter, and Mother to be. Birthday girl Buuuuuud with er best girl Buuuuuud & the delightful Abby

Daddy and his joint no.1 girl

Abby

So. To the fens on tour, where we firstly encountered Sarah, who today was celebrating her 35th birthday. Having been celebrating her birthday with her off and on for the last 16 years, it is the pleasure of your correspondent to report that Buuuuuuud looked as fresh faced today as she did 16 years ago. All down to Pears soap, I have it good authority. It was such an emotional occasion that tears were shed, but these came from Abby on this occasion, who became agitated due to the encroachment of her sleeves on her small hands. Which, if you are 18 months old, could seriously put you off your stroke, I can tell you. Happy birthday Buuuuuud – here’e to the next 16 years. Whatever they may bring.

You couldn’t make this up (although I usually do)

My bag, of course. Theu still hadn't chosen anything by the time they left

You will never guess who your correspondent bumped into in the Oxford Circus Mamas & Papas this afternoon. No idea? Well, other than Liz, she’s the only one of Peter’s Friends who is currently pregnant, and her husband has a beard. One more clue? Well, they were deliberating over which colour of nursery furniture to choose. I bumped into them at 2.30pm, and they had apparently been there since opening time this morning, and were no closer to making a decision.

By way of contrast, I also bumped into Bush & Ming whilst I was there, who were focus personified when it came to impending parenthood, although Helen has apparently sought a third opinion as to the gender of the child to be, as she still can’t believe it’s going to be a boy. As I said to her at the time she revealed the news in an state of mild disbelief, "there was always a 50/50 chance it could be…"

By George, he's arrived!

Christian, Helen & Oliver George. Yes, George!

George Best, Angie & Callum, back in the day. Time to wet the baby's head?

After a year best forgotten by far too many of Peter’s Friends, your correspondent is delighted to revel in the good news that Christian & Helen had a son on Saturday, arriving fashionably late by 1 week. All is well, and the parents are understandably delighted. Your correspondent had the news broken to him by George Best yesterday morning, who apparently lost any sense of reserve and calm during the delivery process. And understandably so, I gather. Anyway, he had managed to compose himself by the time he called, dragging himself away from "Scrapheap Challenge" in order to break the news to the waking world on Sunday morning. The press release from Harleston read as follows, and Christian was thoughtful enough to include some biological details for those who like such things.

Hello all,

Please see attached photos of Ollie Whiting, born 10:10 am on the 12:12:09, weighing 7lb 12oz.

Best laid plans and all of that - our well progressing home birth suddenly turned into a forceps hospital delivery, as little man passed meconium and became stressed; on the upside that meant an epidural for the last 20 mins of the birth - sheer bliss!

We are obviously heavily biased, but we think he's gorgeous.

Lots of love, and Happy Christmas,

Christian and Helen XXX


What he forgot to include was that fact that he his son had taken his christian name as his second name. Not Christian, of course……….. but George. This is quite true.

41 not out

And to think Liz has had 15 years of this steady decay into middle age..

Greater love have no-one in risqué behaviour with their oldest male chum for three of Peter’s Friends to purchase your correspondent a pair of rather fetching pink Diesel pants for his 41st birthday. I thought you might like to see the evidence. As ever, the Coven are very thoughtful. And rude, of course. And yes, this is after breathing in!

Bush, Ming and a video gatecrasher

The answer, my friends, is confetti in the wind

Your correspondent would like to share a small offering thoughtfully provided by Shteeeeve, depicting the scenes outside the church at the Bush/Ming nuptials. The clip, rather bizarrely, heavily features your correspondent offering his formal congratulations, but this should not detract from the overall effect of the occasion. Well, hopefully not, anyway.

No beating around the Bush

An ageing roue, and a bride who had plenty of occasion to blush after the speech

I have been overwhelmed with messages asking if anyone thoughtfully filmed 7/8ths of the speech given by your correspondent at the Tiffany nuptials, and after much searching, I have been able to locate a rough cut of the address as filmed by Liz, who managed to press record when she had overcome a similar bout of nerves as enjoyed by your correspondent, who went un-characteristically tense before his address. I know it’s rather self indulgent, and you may well ask if I have managed to get any video clips of the bride on the day (my answer is sadly in the negative), but I shall be delighted to upload/link to any clips any other of Peter’s Friends have also managed to take of the day.

Just in case you are interested, the speech read as follows, and I cut off where the video cuts in. Highlights include a “Yes” by Angela Sweeney at 7.15, in approval of Mike's fig, and the "Oh no" from the bride at 2.17, when the story of the hair removals cream kicks in. As Wham! once sang, If you were there, you’d know. And even if you weren’t, you know now. Enjoy.

Introduction

Unaccustomed as I am to speaking so far north of Watford, Helen wondered earlier this year if I might like to say a few words today. Whether she envisaged me saying quite as many words as I plan to use today I cannot be sure, but I know that by the end of this speech, you will all be delighted that no expense has been spared when it comes to the quality of the upholstery provided for your comfort here today.

When Helen did me the honour of asking me to speak today, I offered her three options : A serious speech (which nobody ever opts for), something traditional or, finally, the well, frankly slightly rude and irreverent offering which I am generally noted. It will not surprise you, therefore, to note that based on what I am about to share with you today, Helen specifically opted for the third choice, and, as the bride always gets what she wants on her wedding day…………

I have made several such speeches as the one I am about to give, and the trouble with these occasions usually revolves around finding enough funny stories to run to an hour and forty five minutes of…..

At least the Tiffany's are still talking to me.

Bush has always been my inspiration, Helen.....

Kevin the hairdresser and Comrade Ralli

Lydia & Jane Bush with your corrospondent

I saw this, Helen......

One of the highlights of the wedding, if only for lovers of camp hairdressers, was the appearance of the legendary Kevin at the Tiffany nuptials. Bush, as we all know, occasionally indulges herself in some rather grand habits, and few indulgences are grander, in my not so humble opinion, than importing your hairdresser from sarf of the border all the way up to Cheshire for the weekend just to apply the Frizz-ease and give Mother Bush a blow dry. Of course, the overall effect was somewhat more than that suggested by your correspondent, as all of the Bush ladies did indeed look splendid, but three guesses what singer inspired the ethereal-woodland style sported by the bridesmaids? None other that Kate Bush, of course. Well, who else could it have been, really?

Wedding breakfast with the Tiffanys

Mr & Mrs Bush-Tiffany

So, the big day has come and gone, and your correspondent at Peter’s Friends is delighted to announce that Bush & Ming finally got married on Saturday. There were no dramas, a few post-nuptial spots of rain (but no more) and gundogs at the wedding reception at Willington Hall – what more could a bride and groom ask for? What more indeed, apart from a speech by your correspondent, a reading from Comrade Ralli and a toast from Toto. Oh yes, and the arrival at Church some 40 minutes after the bride of one Alexander Francis Bacon Esq, who appeared from his burgundy Fiesta (all of his cars are named after Paul Raymond publications) offering apologies and congratulations.

A selection of your correspondent’s photo can be located here, which barely do justice to the occasion. I have never seen Bush & Ming happier – who needed sun when disco went on till one, and when all of the guests knew of the bride’s use of depilatory creams? Not the bride & groom, that’s for sure.

So Matt, where do I put it?

I particularly liked the "finally" addition by Sharon Bush

The happy hens and token cock

In front of the bay window prior to the Saturday night oysterfest

Charming

"It looks rather like Mike's. Only it's somewhat pinker, and made of plastic, of course"

The Mini-Ming, enjoying some light refreshment

So. The wait is finally over, and as the t-shirt read, Bush & Ming are “finally getting hitched”, and amongst the final acts of singledom was, of course, the hen weekend. As your correspondent was bags-ied by the hen, all the photographs and reports relate to the visit to sunny Whitstable for a weekend of oyster eating for some, and discovery for others. A few tears, a lot of laughter, a number of presents with which batteries were, thoughtfully, included, and more seafood that you could wave a big stick at pretty much sums it up. The photographs for public consumption can be viewed here, and the choicer offerings are included above. As you can hopefully see, a good time was had by all. And, most importantly, Bush loved every minute of it.

Just in case you couldn’t make it, or were not invited, the following awards as voted for by a jury of one pretty much sum the weekend up


Most sloshed hen : Zoe
Best dinner guest : Comrade Ralli
Hen Olympics winner and best swimmer award : Sweens Sweeney
Nice pair award (based on the jostling brought about by exertions in the sack race) : Mrs Weber-McEllison (who won a conference pear to accompany her two blackened eyes)
Best painted toenails : Kirsty Calvert-Ansari
1st photographs up on Facebook : Kirsty Calvert-Ansari
Same top worn all weekend award : Kirsty Calvert-Ansari
Most unlikely hen : Your correspondent
Most indecisive menu hogger : Anita Patti
Best top on Saturday night award : ‘Er indoors (of course)
Best hen presents : Comrade Ralli’s beads
Rudest hen present : Pauline’s vibrating cock ring and vibrator set

Solo Sambuka award : Jo Flood
Silkience girl of the weekend : Sarah Buuuuuuuuuuuuuud
Hen virgin of the weekend : Anita Patti
Matching bra & pants award : Lindsey Bush
Most thoughtful hen (with the dirtiest laugh): Sharon Bush
Redest Bush & best hen : Helen Bush – there was only ever going to be one winner, wasn't there?

It’s raining cats and batteries

Kirsty wearing a cardigan made from her first rabbit, Duracell

Ian's a fan. Are you?

Kirsty’s pussy is being considered by the voting public for best in class, as Kirsty is hoping to win free feline food for a year. If it wins, you too can see it in all of its natural glory on tins of catfood in Aldi, Kwik Save and Fine Fare. Go on – make Kirsty’s day, as I to hope to do with this blog posting. You too can vote for Kirsty’s pussy by logging on to this link. It would be rude not to, really.

If you want to see something on the box that Kirsty is shamelessly plugging, by the way, tune into ITV1 this evening at 8.00pm, and you too can watch a programme about the Metropolitan Police Dog Support Unit. I know Helen has cancelled everything to stay in to watch it tonight, and I for one cannot wait.

A taste of north London

It will look like this. Only with less (and different) people

When Isaac was in the womb, with Bush who is washing her hair this year

Different people this year, but probably the same food

Karen Brady & the Fonz in 2007

The frog, who will be coming

The Howards’s of N.21 are delighted to announce the forthcoming arrival of the newly hyphenated Weber-McEllison’s, who are coming to town to attend the Taste of London food event in Regents Park next weekend, and who will be guests of honour at a gathering of a selection of Peter’s Friends who had not received a better offer at the time of asking. Just to whet your metaphorical whistles, your correspondent is pleased to publish a selection of images from the 2007 gathering, 2008 having been cancelled due to lack of energy. Let’s hope that the sun shines on the righteous, self and otherwise, next Sunday. And no, despite speaking to him regularly, we still have no idea of whether Sober will be joining us for the festivities.

Ding dong! the bells are gonna chime

Helen & Mike. Not the Helen & Mike, of course.....

May I be the 18th person to formally offer my congratulations to Bush & Ming. Just in case you are looking for any ideas for wedding presents, a visit here and here may offer some assistance. Well done to them both – no-one could me more happy for them except their families, their colleagues and their landlord Mr Pearman. Here’s to a big bash with big hair. Roll on October!

Dib dib dib

Susan is certainly a bear of a man. Discuss.

Bear Grylls

I was delighted to see that an old friend of Peter has been made Chief Scout, as the photographic evidence here amply demonstrates. The big question is, of course, whether he will be introducing new badges for water sports, eating, fatherhood, drinking…..

The No.1 day out at Christmas

The iconic listed BBC TC Centre building

The look of excited anticipation on our faces is paplable

Girls allowed out for the evening

Christmas isn’t Christmas without Top of the Pops, and for your televisual entertainment this year, there are two programmes to choose from (the traditional Christmas day show, and one on New Years Eve), recorded on three separate occasions and welded together as the editor sees fit. Your correspondent, his research assistant and Holly Bush attended a recording featuring the Kaiser Chiefs, Dizzy Rascal (prior to his arrest), Leona Lewis, Peter Kay (as Geraldine) and Girls Aloud, amongst others. The highlight of the evening was touching three members of Girls Aloud (excluding the ginger one and the loud one), and Liz telling Nadine Coyle to take her dress off. If you enjoy the shows half as much as we enjoyed the recording you will have a wail of a time. Festive fun for all the family, I'm sure you will agree.

Sorry Father (and Mother)

Language, Matthew

I’m not saying either Bush or Ming haven’t good cause to retaliate to the joshing they receive on this forum, but to say I was shocked when they brought to my attention a piece in the Groaniad from 28th November which alluded to an ensemble such as that displayed here being more akin to that of Timothy Lumsden than Sebastian Flyte. I mean to say – what have I done to deserve opprobrium such as this? Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

It's wild in the west country

'Arrers John? I never even saw the Indians.

And many happy returns of the day for Sunday to Sober, who when asked by Beryl at my recent 40th birthday celebrations what his favourite drink was, replied “Strongbow”. Not much beats a chap certain of his favourite pleasures, and many’s a night when Sober can be found on a park bench ladling down cheap cider with the local archers complaining things ain’t whet they used to be, and how much better it was when Tony Blair was taking us to war left right and centre.….As we say in N.21, happy birthday Dave, and looking forward to seeing you soon for a Strongbow.

Don't look now

"I quite fancy the idea of sausages and bagels for my breakfast duvet feast Matt, which Mike thinks is hilarious. Am I missing something?"

Many happy returns of the day to our chum Helen Bush (35 tomorrow) who Ming invariably refers to by the moniker I thoughtfully endowed her with all those years ago when she isn’t around (and sometimes when she is). Apparently, he arranged a surprise weekend of treats for Bush, starting with breakfast in bed, something I gather my Mother was looking forward to this weekend, only to be disappointed when she found out that Ming was otherwise engaged. Quite what other surprises Bush should expect I am not sure of, but if she ends up with a flight to Venice and a red coat for her birthday, then Ming might have given his Julie Christie fetish more wings than propriety would ordinarily allow.

Happy birthday Bush. It is one of life’s ultimate truisms, but life would not be the same without you.

Here pussy pussy.

"Now look here Sarah. It's my birthday on Saturday, and I want to win for a change. Matt always lets you win - I can't think why. "

I am delighted to reproduce some of the finer entries into the Kirsty’s kitten caption competition. Some of them were frankly un-publishable and sorry Steve, but using smutty innuendo just doesn’t cut it I’m afraid. So here we go. I sense an old-school dowsing for someone in the immediate future…

George Best
Mama Mia! Hasn’t Kirsty got a hairy pussy?

Sober
Does Kirsty’s pussy like Strongbow. Ha ha.

Anonymous from Battersea Park Road
Kirsthty’s puthy looks like it needs a Bwazilian.

Isaac Ralli-Yahya
Kirsty’s pussy is nearly as hairy as me.

Liz from Enfield
Grow up.

Pauline (from Redwood Publishing)
If Kirsty thinks she’s coming out with a pussy that hairy on Helen’s birthday, she’s got another thing coming. I might be busy that night.

Red Brick, Brentslow, Middlesex
You are a rude man Mr Howard. Isaac is, however, right.

Helen from SW11
I used to have a cat when I was young Matt, but the cow’s ate it out of desperation when Sharon was trying to turn them vegetarian. I saw Kirsty the other week, and both Toto and I said how fond we were of cats. Toto said generally speaking, she preferred her cats short haired, but on this occasion she thought that Kirsty’s long haired variant was certainly the hairiest pussy she had ever seen. I went home to tell Mike all about this, and he absolutely wet himself. I was (and am) very confused. Do you think Mike doesn’t like hairy cats or something Matt?

Sharon Bush
It wasn’t me. It was Lindsey after when she herd (sic) that cows ate grass, got very confused and the cows got the munchies and were too stoned to yield any milk for the whole of the Cheshire Solstice.

Herr Jambon
No. It was me. I gave them acid.

Ming from the BBC
F*!k me. I haven’t seen one that hairy since I watched Don’t Look Now when Helen was at her organic pilates class last Tuesday. Julie Christie, eh. Now there was a woman. Don’t tell Bush.

34 today

Life's always more fun when we are together

Many happy returns to Sweens Spiteri who is (would you believe) 34 today, although as I’m sure you will agree, doesn’t look a day over 33. If any proof were necessary as to the resemblance between Sweens and the Texan songbird, this surely is it.

Many happy returns of the day Sweens – we hope to see you again very soon.

Today's Kirsty caption competition (or "Pin the tail on the pussy")

Where's the whiskers?

Just in case you are not on Facebook, you might have missed this gem Kirsty decided to share with the world at large. I spent 20 minutes with my female colleagues delving the depths of our respective depravities yesterday afternoon but came up with nothing, so I thought I would throw it open to a wider audiance. Entries to the usual address, and I shall be publishing the best answers when I have made them up. Three guess whose will be the most filthy? Bush.

Bloody hell. It's just like Peter's Friends (only with parents and the Campo's)

Granville in the pub with a Campari & lemonade on Saturday lunchtime

A lunch fit for a Jedi. Much like his parents, Rohan isn't a big fan of food as we can see

Isaac Ralli-Yahya

Father & son - Shteeeeeve & Paaaaaaaaaaaul

Abby's proxy

As many of Peter’s Friends will be aware, your correspondent recently celebrated 40 years on this planet with a surprise birthday weekend away with 33 of his closest family and friends, many of who can also count themselves as friends of Peter as well as your correspondent (not to be confused with friends of Dorothy, who make up the majority of Bush’s colleagues).

Suffice as to say that your correspondent was overwhelmed by the level of sacrifice made by everyone who attended in the form of effort, time, financial outlay, generosity towards your correspondent and the level of affection demonstrated to an old man by so many people. I can say no more than it was the second finest occasion of my life thus far, and 60 of the finer moments from my own camera can be found on my Facebook page by clicking here (worry not - this works even if you don’t do Facebook). Enjoy. I certainly did.

Shock news : Comrade Ralli wearing the same beads two days running at the TUC.

The lady on the left is wearing a new top, apparently

New Labour, same neckless. Well, haven’t you heard there’s a credit crunch on?

Just in case you do not subscribe to that august journal Primary Nursing Care, you might have missed the cover star of the October/November 2008 edition captured in glorious Techincolor after her starring role at the 2008 TUC conference in Brighton. Suffice as to say that Comrade Ralli’s emotive performance was the decisive speech in her debate on mileage allowances, and the motion was carried unanimously.

Should any other of Peter’s Friends have had an increase in their profile that might have gone under the radar, your correspondent will be delighted to help raise your profile at the first available opportunity. It might also increase the profile of the readership to boot, as it has come to my attention that our chum Al Steptoe has been featured rather too much of late for some peoples taste. Mentioning no names, of course.


With thanks to George Best, Mary Stavin, Fluffy P-J, Benjamin Patel-James, Red Ralli, Isaac Ralli-Yahya, Muk (with a sore shoulder),Sober, Jo, Scott & Molly McEllison, Red Bush, Ming, Shteeeeeve, Mrs Shteeeeeeve, Paul Shteeeeeve, Buuuuuud, Dean BJ, "Abby from Waterbeach", Sweens, Susan, Rohan Barbour-Phillips, Sofa Shimmin, Big Steve, Dr Russell, Captain Cunto, Roy Kinneer, Tom Ling and Rachael for bringing this to my attention.

DAN!

Following on from the monumental events of my 40th birthday weekend of which I shall endeavour to justice to when I have written all of my thank-you’s, I thought I might like to share with you where the reference to the phrase “DAN!” came from, as shouted round the back lanes of the Cotswolds by Sober and me on Friday evening whilst looking for my brother, who had been callously abandoned in the mist by his taxi driver. Who would have thought that there would be two churches and only one pub in the village? Had they not heard that Sober was coming for the weekend?

Chavs on the town

Another crap night out

Mine's a large one

Some action from last night

Some photographs from your correspondent’s visit to see The Streets with Steptoe, who also very kindly provided the ticket. It was an excellent gig, which can be viewed on the Ming’s BBCi player by clicking on this link. As you can see, we had a splendid time.

Style never goes out of fashion

Sunday Sunday..

I just thought you might like to see a photograph of Alex on Sunday, who not only managed to survive his 10k run for Cancer Research UK, but plans to do another one hosted by the pub at the end of his road in the middle of next month. Apparently, this is what passes for cutting edge fashion in the world of recreational running, or so I am told, although his mode of dress is perhaps a tad fancy for my liking. Sartorial matters aside however, should you wish to sponsor Twickenham’s answer to Jimmy Saville (or should that be Jimmy Summerville?), I am sure your contribution will be gratefully appreciated.

Je ne sais pas, Steptoe

Mr Harry Viderci and Angela's hairdryer

Strangely enough, our final Steps back in time today takes us to Sweeney’s house above the offy on Mill Road, and the occasion he tried to repatriate the El Grecco’s who lived with Sweens and send them back to mainland Europe. He failed miserably, of course, but was once fed paella by them, I remeber, although I don't seem to ever recall them being invited back for his baked bean salad. Perhaps I was out that day. Or perhaps not.

That will do for now, I think, but there’s plenty more where those came from, as we are all no doubt aware, and it is always a pleasure, as we will no doubt attest, to Steps back in time with any of Peter's Friends.

35 today

Toto eating wubbery stweeths on her hen day

Many happy returns of the day to Toto, who is (would you believe) 35 today. We are celebrating in the time honoured fashion this evening, although it will be somewhat of a busman’s holiday tonight as we’re going to see The All Stars on their weekly residency in a bar near St.Paul’s. Let’s hope it’s not all work and no play for Mrs James this evening. I mean, you’re not 35 every day, are you?

Can’t get you out of your bed

What the lunch lacked in subtelty it mad up for in wine. And gin.

Today finds us taking a Steps back to…..well, 24 hours later, and Sunday lunch at 129 Cherry Hinton Road. We got absolutely smashed on cheap white wine from Peatlings, and Steps proceeded to pass out on his bed whilst we washed up. Plus ca change, plus ca la meme chose, as the El Grecco's used to say.