Time for a rest

Due to unseasonable weather, Peter’s Friends will be taking a pre-festive sabbatical. Your correspondent hopes to be back in the new year.

The Thames Corridor of Uncertainty (don’t get your Hampton Court)

Cheers Dave

This joke can run and run......

Many happy returns of the day to Sober, who rumour has it is celebrating his 35th birthday with a big night out at Chasers in Swindon. Dave asked me to let you know its alcopops for a pound, and wonderbra-get-in-free night, so if you’re in his manor, you’d be more than welcome.

The patter of tiny Boden socks....

He has much more hair that when I last saw him

Your correspondent at Peter’s Friends (termed “Mother” rather cuttingly by Susan at the weekend, amongst other) is delighted to announce news from the wild east, where George Best emailed to say he was delighted to announce that the fount of all wisdom Dr Livingston Raper and his wife Sarah have recently become the proud parents of a boy, Jack Alexander. No other news thus far, but on behalf of all at Peter’s Friends, we are delighted to wish them all well, and hope that we meet again soon one day. Good name, by the way. Well, they were never going to call him anything common like Darren, were they? Or Christian, for that matter.

The birthday season

Still crazy after all of these year's - some of Peter's Friends

2 birthday girls in celebratory mood - Bush & Sweens

The haul

Many happy returns of the day to our chum otherwise known as Red Brooks, Helen Bush. It is ill-becoming to mention a lady’s age (34), so I shall say no more than she is still remarkably well preserved all things considered, especially as she generally finds it difficult to decide which moisture cream to use of a morning. Sober went so far as to say that Helen doesn’t actually age, sentiments I very much agreed with when a gathering of Peter’s Friends took place at Howards’ End last Sunday on the occasion of Angela’s birthday. As I said to Dave, “I’ve always thought Bush looked 34”, sentiments with which Dave seemed to agree. Well, I say agree only in so much as anyone can agree to anything when you’ve had one glass of Champagne, 2 glasses of fizz, one glass of red wine, three of Steptoe’s bison grass vodka cocktails (plenty of cock and not a lot of tail) washed down with 8 cans of Strongbow…..

All of this followed a splendid weekend in the Smoke co-hosted in the Peoples Republic of Brentford and in N.21, which was attended by the Sweeney-Phillips’s and the McEllison’s, culminating in the aforementioned birthday lunch for 14 including 3 children. Suffice as to say the week thus far has been one of decidedly moderate indulgence. Until Bush cracks open the chardonnay this evening, that is…..

Clear the decks

I have too much time on my hands, obviously

Just another quiet night in Neyland

It’s a big weekend in the Smoke. Angela, Nicholas & Rohan arrive later today, the McDonald’s tomorrow and a big knees up for Angela’s birthday at Howards’ End on Sunday. In anticipation of a major visit, we’ve moved anything breakable from the reachable surfaces.Not, it should be added, that it’s Rohan we ever have to worry about…..

Are you in there, Dave?

Go on – bet you thought it was him too, didn’t you?

Guess how many of Peter’s Friends actually thought this was Sober as opposed to some non-specific gimp in a chain mail mask which your correspondent found when clicking on the following link? Well, Liz & Toto for starters. Oh yes, and Dave himself, of course.

Wombatz

Fluffy

Email received from Toto this morning.

Gweetings from Sthydney, and yeth I thaw the bit about me you cheeky bugger.

Off to cwicket tomorrow followed by a film on Indian call centres. Hope all is well with you. Felling a bit cold after India, only 24 degrees here.

Big Hug,

xxx.

As the weather in the Smoke is 8 degrees, gloomy and wet, I’m sure I can say without fear of contwadiction that our hearts bleed for our chum overseas. Although it’s very good to hear that she’s having fun.

A fiver say's it's neither

Nice top

Bush is back from Madeira tomorrow, bearing cake or Madeira, no doubt. Either that, or she'll be in such a quandary deciding which one to bring back she'll bring back neither. As and when I find out, you’ll be the next to know.

A fate worse than death.

I'd have gone for the ostrich costume myself

Three guesses whose office is celebrating Children in Need day with a village fate in the office which included a donkey derby complete with bunting? A bottle of cooking cava and £25.00 of S & M vouchers for the first correct answer out of the hat.

Stranger than fiction

The calm before the guitar

I’m sure we would all like to offer our congratulations to our friend from Swindon , who you will no doubt be delighted to hear has recently been rewarded by the Thames corridor’s most whanky employer since Wernham Hogg for the endeavours of both himself and his colleagues in the “Rapid Response Team” by award of the Customer Relations Colleagues of Distinction Quarter 3 team winners, which comes with a bottle of Champagne and £25.00 of M & S vouchers. And no, I’m not making this up.

Sthydney here we come

I didn’t know Toto was going to Newcastle, Matt

Toto called this morning and was full of beanthz, organic, of course. Our Fluffy friend (no, not Sarah’s rabbit Dave) was in excellent form prior to a 5 hour journey in a 4wd jeep to Bombay airport tomorrow from where she is due to Sydney, where she is looking forward to salad, a trip to Manley and presumably a proper drink, although she’s apparently not missing the vodka at the moment. There, I can do it. I could easily have written “sthalad”, but I showed restraint. I mustht be mellowing with age.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuud has kindly taken time off from playing with her rabbit to kindly forward to me a link to a voucher entitling the bearer 1/3rd off a meal at Chef & Brewer establishments. So, if you’re looking for a good night out with 1/3rd off your total bill, a visit here would seem to be essential. If you need to know if this sort of place will cater for your needs, this link will show you what to expect to eat. I would suggest that any hunger is appeased by 30th of November, however, as this offer expires then. Remember where you read it first.

Only Shteeeeve's & 'taches

Pancho Mulholland?

One of three Shteeeeve sent

You would have thought one would have sufficed, wouldn't you?

Of all of the greatest contributions of the writer John Sullivan to the popular lexicon, the phrases “you plonker”, “lovely jubbly” and “during the war” will often be cited as personal favourites. Mine, however, is the phrase “Jaffa” (meaning “seedless” in the reproductive sense), which I think in a work of genius. “Jaffa” is one of the favourite terms of endearment/abuse which was directed to the character “Boycie” (latterly of Only Fools & Horses, now of the Green Green Grass), who was though to be infertile as a result of the fact that his wife Marlene failed to conceive for an extensive period of time. So, when Shteeeeve rather proudly sent me the enclosed photos of his new Mexican-styleee facial adornment, I was immediately reminded of John Challis and thought I might like to share them with you all. Not, of course, that Shteeeeve could ever be considered to be a Jaffa, based on recent evidence….

Uncle Charlie!

Angela on her wedding day

Corporal Punishment & Lacey Turner in the Queen Vic

So, not only has Lacey Turner (Stacey Slater in Eastenders) nicked Sween’s post-birth hair-do, but as the enclosed evidence clearly shows, she’s also nicked Angela’s wedding dress. What would Uncle Charlie say?

You know when you've been Rallied

His legs are almost as long as his Mother's now

Playing with a hose

Rohan posing with his father Susan

No water shortages in the Principality this summer

You learn at your Fathers knee. Lesson one - Fashion

Rohan, ably supervised by your corrospondent & Timmy Sweeney

Comrade Ralli called yesterday to gently berate me for not posting sufficient pictures of Rohan on Peter’s Friends. Counting myself duly chastised, I am delighted to reproduce enough pictures of Rohan to sate even the unquenchable thirst for celluloid displayed by his paternal grandmother, the Peter Pan of Burton and provider of complimentary fayre for Rohan’s miserly uncle, Fagin Phillips. Enjoy.

The red bushed girl who went up a hill and came down with a red face

Helen excused her absence by stating she couldn’t decide which Goretex coat to wear.

If you think working for the Groaniad is all earnest conversations and Trotskyite doctrine with revolutionary menaces at the Kremlin on Farringdon Road, you couldn’t be more right. Or left as the case may have it. However, you might be surprised to note that when they launched the Groaniad Book of Mountains they did so up a mountain, which they forced employees from their books department to attend with Stalinesque menace. Three guesses therefore where Bush & Ming were at the weekend coinciding with the book launch? Yep, you guessed it, at Exmouth Market quaffing in a gastropub as usual, as the picture above amply demonstrates. I mean, if Bush & Ming had been there, she would have been easy to spot, wouldn’t she? “Especially with her cheeks after a vigorous workout and Ming’s shiny head”, as Anita suggested to me earlier today……

Another satisfied reader

Coming to a pet shop near you

I have been overwhelmed with responses to my blog "Ann Summers haste hath too short a lease". Responses have included

Steptoe
You dirty old *unt

You know who
Dithgwaceful

Red Bush
Why would Dean want to put batteries into a rabbit’s bottom? That’s just silly, Matt

Buuuuuud
Wil b suppling further material for ur merriment in due course (I couldn’t understand it, either)

Mrs Osbourne
Stop calling us the Osbourne’s or Ozzy will come and chin you.

Ming
That was very funny Matt, just don’t tell Helen I thought so.

Dean
I’ll see you outside

Good to see I’ve struck the right note as per usual.

Scorchio

Ashley Giles with a strategically placed hose (covering his cock)

You will all be delighted to know that the Osbourne’s are off to Greece on holiday next week. They have either got a thirst for knowledge or for Keo – one or t’other, and have purchased an Ipod to save having to watch the films on their Air Cymru flight on Monday. We set them up with I-tunes when we visited recently, and showed Susan how it all worked but on his only attempt at uploading a CD thus far, all the CD data came out in some oriental font. However, as Susan was uploading the Best of the Vapors (an even more extensive work than the Stereophonics Greatest Hits), one can hardly be surprised. Bon voyage, as we say in N.21 Or should that be buono estente?

Ann Summers haste hath too short a lease

It’s all to do with the ears apparently.

“I can’t seem to get the batteries in the bottom, Sar”.

Our dear chum Buuuuuud called last week to see if I was thirsty, but unfortunately on this occasion I had other plans. I say I had other plans, although to be more specific, Liz did, as I have been applying paint to our bedroom for the last fortnight like it’s going out of fashion. Anyway, my being confined to the bedroom neatly brings me on to the recent activities of Buuuuud & Dean, of whom not a lot has been heard of late, and when she telephoned, all became apparent. In short, Dean had brought Sarah a rabbit to keep the cat company, and she has been at home playing with it all summer. Apparently, the new addition to the family brings a rosy glow to her cheeks on a daily basis (twice on Saturday’s) and they have named the rabbit “Floss” (bless).

On top of that, her department is in the process of being revamped at work, which has probably been a worry. As a result, it all seems to have been too much for Sarah, who commented to me regarding her recent hectic schedule “Do you know Matt, some days I don’t know whether I’m coming or going”. For once, even I was lost for words. One can only hope that the rabbit doesn’t give Sarah’s pussy myxomatosis. Now, that would be tragic.

Sober's joke of the day

Ken Dodd

Q: Why is an old person like a slinky?

A: Because although they’re not much to look at, you can’t help but laugh when they fall down the stairs.

As ever, the older he get’s, the greater the quality of the output. Or not, if you’re of a sensitive or tasteful disposition.

Out of Africa

Listening to the House of Pain on Steptoe's ipod

Christopher Biggins eat your heart out

Al’s been big game hunting (and we we’re not talking about a United Chelsea match). See him shooting tigers and playing with ivory chess sets lovingly carved by Rachael during the long evening on the Serangeti Plain on a video he has thoughtfully uploaded to YouTube by clicking here. As Alex himself wrote on the accompanying email publicising his new-found editing skill,

“It's 8 minutes long, but it's worth persevering with, especially if you enjoy the music of Vic Reeves”.

The joys of Facebook

Have you enrolled on Facebook yet? Those of whom I am aware who have enrolled include Red Bush, Ming, Kirsty, Comrade Ralli (Herald of the Red Dawn), Steps & Shteeeeeve. Fun for all of the family, I assure you, and a splendid waste of time for those of you without anything better to do during the day. Come on in, the water’s lovely.

Curry Queen

Coming to a High Street Kensington near you soon

I prefer a light salad myself

Bush and Ming spent yesterday poncing around High Street Kensington, and encountered one of those typically whanky food shops one finds in such parts, Whole Foods, who have taken over building which previously housed Barkers department store and converted it into something resembling Harrods food hall (the web site advertises free parking if you spend over £100.00 on groceries – you get the idea) Anyway, they thought that they might like to buy themselves a spot of deli-surprise lunch, and Bush found a tub which stated 100g for £1.70 Well, here’s a bargain, she thought, and proceeded to fill the pot with cold curry for her lunch (classy), whilst simultaneously patting herself on the back for finding the deal of the day. Imagine her surprise when she got to the till, only to realise that the food was charged by weight, not pot size, and as she had just purchased almost a kilogram of curry……This is quite true.

Oval and out

"I had a sister in law once. I went with her to see …..errrr, India. At the Oval!"

Never trust a man with a pineapple on his head

So, off to the Oval on Saturday with Shteeeeeve & Dave. Spurs lost 1-0, Lincoln City 4 -0, England played poorly, the rugby team were defeated by the French at Twickenham and Shteeeve ended the evening taking 26 pictures of nothing on the tube, all blurred, and of no obviously discernable subject matter whatsoever. This followed a late evening during which drink was taken, and an argument with an inanimate object at the public conveniences at Euston Station (a turnstile, which saw fit to decline Shteeeve entrance without parting with a hard currency, something Shteeeve failed to discern), an afternoon drinking gin & coke (we ran out of tonic) and an evening at London Bridge sans repast. Shteeeve thought it would be a good idea to stay at Howards End, in order that only my wife would see him after his day in the sun, which in hindsight might have proved wise. Especially as Shteeeve cannot remember any of the day after Sober appeared from the bar with a jug of Pimm’s just before 10.00pm….....

Blue Bush?

Off to Ralli’s with Bush & Liz yesterday evening. All is well with the world with Brick, Muk & Isaac, and Anita produced a meze feast which even defeated Bush. Not that it stopped her tucking in a little later to a bag of cookies which she proceeded to demolish with relish. “Some things never change”, Anita reflected in a confidential email to me this morning, which also included the suggestion of the picture of the Cookie Monster we see above. Glad to oblige as ever, Comrade. And thanks for all of the chorizo.

Wetiring but not shy

Red Bush, "Fluffy" & Liz

Comrade Ralli & "Bill"

Your corrosondent, Ming & Ming

So, south of the border for the retirement of our dear chum, who as careless blogging costs jobs, will remain disguised on this occasion (we shall call her “Fluffy”). After having been endowed with an ipod case and a bottle of wonky vodka (or should that be a wonky bottle of vodka) for her six and a half years hard labour, our chum proceeded to produce a flawleth display of hostess-ship, with hot and cold running canapés and more champagne than you could wave a big sthick at, as it was important to celebrate the fact that at last, the metaphorical “witch is dead”, and Fluffy can dedicate the immediate future to Phillip & Fern, Jeremy Kyle, a trip to the homeland for some voluntary work and the supervising of a refit for the flat. Good luck Fluffy, and well done.

Don’t Look Back in Anglia

If you are feeling in any way nostalgic for the halcyon days of life at the old alma mater, may I recommend the “listen again” feature accessed by the following link. An opportunity, if any were necessary in these days of broadband, to look back in Anglia. And if you’re anything like me, almost burst into tears on several occasions.

The patter of tiny feet

Peter’s Friends is delighted to announce that Helen Jenkins gave birth to a daughter, Sara Elin, yesterday evening at home, weighing in at 7lbs 11oz. The message, from HJ, announces that “We’re all doing well!”. There is nothing Peter’s Friends likes to announce more that the safe arrival of a new child, so well done Helen and Paul.

To Lord’s with Harry F****r

Taking shelter from the rain whilst ensuring that we didn't go thirsty

England in the field on Saturday morning

Dickie Bird & Sober at Lord's on Saturday

The full Monty? Dave and a cardboard cut-out.

On the day that the new Harry Potter book was released, your correspondent & Sober ventured to Lord’s on Saturday for a curate’s egg of a days play, watched by large numbers of the great and the good, and old Harry Phucker himself, Daniel Ratcliffe, according to press reports. Sober was rude enough to enquire when I went to Lord’s with Shteeeeve in May whether we were having jerk chicken again for lunch as usual? Bearing in mind that it’s either me or Shteeeeve who invariably provide lunch on such occasions, I thought it a little rich that the repast I habitually produce was subject to satire, so I produced for lunch tandori chicken chapattis with raita and mango chutney, bhajis (no samosas obviously, as they have peas in them), fried chapattis with mashed spicy potato in them (courtesy of Comrade Ralli’s recipe) and poppadoms, all washed down with Cobra & Cava (not very Indian, but the local sparkling wine is not particularly well thought of in the sub-continent).

The England bowling on Saturday morning was described as “outstanding” in the Murdoch today according to Christopher Martin-Jenkins, a view with which I would readily concur, and although it rained, resulting in only an hour and a half’s play after lunch, the day was not ruined, as it gave us an opportunity to sate our thirsts and belatedly chew the cud, Sober having been an infrequent visitor to Howards’ End this year. He still managed to trash our recently renovated spare bedroom, however, as per usual. Oh yes, and it apparently took him 4 hours to get home after work on Friday as a result of the floods. Guess how many of those hours were spent in licence premises? Give yourself a prize if you guessed anywhere near three. Priceless.