Discussion Forum

Sorry to come to this late...

We're just crap. End of. Bunch of loanees, employed by the week...

It's a crying bloody shame what the bastards have done to Pompey.

Oh - well done, Orient.

He sells home furnishings on this side o't pond.

On Armistice Day the Philharmonic will play.

Uh-huh.

By the way - who was it who wanted to take out Paul Simon? You'll have to get past me to get at the diminutive minstrel mate. He's the bee's knees...

Me and Julio down by the schoolyard.

OK?

Oh yeah... and he may not be up there with international perpetrators of genocide and a religious torture from the Iberian peninsula, but I'd get that bleeding git Ben Thatcher who nearly killed Pompey's Pedro Mendes at Man City with an unprovoked attack that time.

And while I'm dealing with Iberians, Cristiano Ro-bloody-naldo!

Slap.

Oh yes!

Don Fernando Álvarez de Toledo y Pimentel, 3rd Duke of Alba. Git.

It's not the Spanish per se, honest. I like Goya. And Penelope Cruz. And Antonio Banderas.

Also, I'm not a big fan of Torquemada...

(I should state that I don't have a particular problem with C15/16 Spaniards.)

That Pizarro was a bit of a git, wasn't he?

Power of Love - Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

Link? er...

You don't go back in the chain... you must link to the last one...

Dick Dale... the subject of a Steeleye Span song "rode up hill and he rode down dale..."

Black Jack Davey - Steeleye Span.

Funny you should say that Clivey - the missus has just done the very same... Sherlock on the Kindle, I mean, of course.

Michael Caine and Ben Kingsley were a good pairing... especially the scene with the pea...

Flippy neck and flamy nora! I've just seen that completely unjustified attack launched on my character by that Clivey D - taking advantage of my annual sojourn. What a cheap thing he is! I'm now very glad I heard all those unseemly stories about his behaviour in France and shared them with my friends here.

Hey, Clivey... calm down. I'm only telling what those Frenchies told me. I'm sure we'd all love to hear your side of the story. Purely for balance you understand. I mean - I was shown some pretty damning photos (has to be said you did cut a dashing - if somewhat camp - figure round Biarritz Grand).

Ah… back and refreshed.

Hi everyone. Just had a couple of weeks investigating some of the western reaches of La Belle France. Very nice too - lovely friendly people everywhere, very patient with my crap French but… when folks found out we were from London, there were moments of slight hesitation. For example: at check-in at Hotel St Nicolas at La Rochelle, the charming receptionist says: "Welcome to La Rochelle - where are you coming from in the UK?"

"London," we reply.

"Ah! Oui, Londres… this is silly, I know, but I don't suppose you know, er, ze Clivey Danton - ze chap 'oo looks like our own revolutionaire with the same name but who wears a funny, 'ow you say, 'at of the porky pie?"

"Er yes… I do," I say somewhat hesitantly.

"Well don't tell anyone round the old port that you know 'im… it may go badly for you."

Thanking her for the advice, we head for our room and I explain to Lady Fields that this Clivey cove is one of my fellow denizens at The Spoof and while being a top-hole scribe of banging compo entries that always win by a country mile he is known by the rest of us to have some dubious hobbies and habits. "The sort of thing that a delicate thing like you needn't worry yourself about," I add, reassuringly.

Later that evening, enjoying a digestif at a popular, friendly bar, I notice behind the counter a picture of a familiar face bearing the label, "Attention! Le Grand Bum-Bum Anglais!"

Of course, curiosity piqued, I ask the chap behind the bar about the photo.

"Ah… oui. Clivey D… ze Grand Bum-bum Anglais. Ough, eez a 'orrible story. Deux, maybe trois years ago, 'e comes to La Rochelle, dressed like ze matelot, avec ze hoopy shirt et ze beret. 'E spends ze week mincing around ze old port asking 'where are all the nice garcons?' Zen 'e comes into bars like zis and gets out 'is 'ow you say, er Little Clivey, waggles it at ze customers and says, 'Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Please meet the Admiral! How about a little bum-bum?'

"How awful," said Lady Fields, as we wandered back to the hotel. "Think nothing more of it, dear," I soothed.

Well, I wish that were so easy, because, I'm afraid to say the story was repeated, with slight alterations, in our other destinations, where Le Grand Bum-bum Anglais was still remembered with shudders.

Apparently, in Bordeaux, Clivey tried on the same pick-up technique posing as a negociant and touring the great chateaux. At Yqem, apparently, he surprised one owner, 'approaching' him from behind while he sampled the '87! In the evenings he would wander around the café bars in the Place Comedie outside the Grand Theatre and perform an 'introduction' to his member again, 'Allons-y, garcons, anyone fancy this vintage? Pretty noble, eh?'

And in Biarritz - and again, I can only report what I was told - he strolled along the Grand Plage in a blazer, slacks and cravat like some boulevardier, pestering the life guards and unaware surfers as they bent over divesting themselves of their wetsuits. Then later in the evening he would parade the bars and cafes, again with an introduction to his 'chappie', 'Vive L'Empereur! Forget the others, garcons, this is Napoleon the Fourth a votre service.'

A sorry story, I'm sure you'll agree. But, as I say above, it's strictly entre nous.

Aaah, you big soft get, Clivey!

(Runs from office and locks himself in the lav where he blubs uncontrollably for ten minutes, before pulling himself together, returns to his desk and determines to maintain a stiff upper lip).

Talking of the great man...

... the little geezer in the red titfer can play a bit too! Love the way the roadies collect his axe at the end!

Oh yes... he might make it sometime...

Brilliant.

You mean that's not a picture of you, Maria?

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Quote: Maria Rios

Anyone want to call me so I can finally prove that I'm a female, not a troll and not out to cause trouble?

What more can I do?

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That "artist of light" Thomas Kinkade has a shop on the High Street down here. Hate it, I do, but me mam always says you shouldn't speak ill of the dead.

Jeez, Clivey - I've had Blackberry for more than a year and I'm still not sure how to use it...

ToC:

517,000 watched the first episode, 384,000 the conclusion.

Hunderby doubled Sky Atlantic's usual audience (no numbers).

According to Broadcast today, anyway.

Nope - a bunch of people have, predictably, complained to the Beeb that it insults Islam.

I didn't see it, so I dunno. But as it was written by someone I understand to be Muslim, you have wonder...

Not for some years, Skoob. But it is a daily battle.

Just watched Cloth.

Meh.

Come on... it didn't get it right.