I'm Dreading a Shite Christmas.

So, to recap:

1. Mrs Pither has buggered off and shacked up with someone else.
2. I am in the financial doo-doos up to my armpits and it looks as though the house could soon be repossessed.
3. The Cow and Carrot has announced 120 redundancies and there are whispers that I am going to be on the list in the New Year.
4. I am 48, unhealthy and going fucking nowhere.
5. The tenative relationship I had with a lovely sex of the opposite gender has just gone bosoms up - albeit with the best spelled and punctuated Dear John text I have ever had.
6. Christmas will now be a distinctly canine affair with just me, five dogs, a bacon sandwich and Steve McQueen (assuming THAT film is on again).

If anyone knows of a wealthy, unfeasibly large-breasted, morally casual woman, who is blind, has no-sense of smell, has a fetish for overweight, balding men, lives over an off-licence and has a Nottingham Forest season ticket then could they please put her in touch with me.

Happy Christmas.

...And The Special Guest Star Is........

I was so moved (to the bar, anyway) by my pal The Big Green Thing and his considered opinion of a small town in the West Midlands that I have allowed him the honour of being the first special guest star to appear at Grantham New Town. Only his words do his thoughts justice so, it's over to him:

"I’m tremendously proud and honoured to have been invited by Reg to be the first person to contribute a guest spot rant-by-proxy to his esteemed blog. The following is the result of a conversation I had with Reg that started with a series of text messages and continued in the pub. Well, not THE pub, actually. Another one.

"For some time now, I’ve been carefully considering my opinion of a small town by the name of Walsall that isn’t a million miles from where Reg and I reside and is somewhere we both know fairly well. When I shared some of my more recent insights with Reg, a frank exchange of ideas ensued and we found ourselves in close agreement about the character of the place. After mutually exploring different aspects of the town from a wide range of perspectives – civic governance, aesthetic appeal, amenities, infrastructure, the nature of the local residents and so forth – we found ourselves in almost total agreement. Reg therefore thought it might be both novel and appropriate for him to offer me the use of this platform in order to share our views more widely with his readership. So this is the result: my report of our joint observations on the town of Walsall.

"It’s completely fucking shit."

(Reg – will this be enough? BGT)

20 Things You Didn't Know......

So, that de Menezes inquest result in full:


1. The British public are all vicious, vindictive and compulsive liars.
2. All officers of the Metropolitan Police always tell the truth and have no track record whatsoever stretching back 40 or more years for being lying, corrupt, deceitful bastards who would sell their grannies for a bacon sandwich.
3. It is perfectly permissible for the police to shoot dead whoever they want, whenever they want, wherever they want, for whatever reason they deem fit.
4. It is a complete and utter mystery how an innocent Tube train passenger met his death after being shot seven times in the head without warning by one police officer while being restrained by another so that he could not move.
5. No-one facing the prospect of a murder or manslaughter charge being brought against them would ever lie to a court to avoid such an eventuality.
6. A jury’s duty when considering evidence brought forward by a lengthy investigation involving testimony from more than 100 witnesses at a cost of around £3 million shall be to conclude whatever the coroner was told to conclude before said investigation even started.
7. Two verdicts shall be open to British juries;
a) Members of the public put on trial for a crime can be found either not guilty or guilty.
b) Police officers put on “trial” for a “crime” can be found either not guilty or not guilty.
8. Anyone carrying a rucksack, using public transport and being foreign in a built-up area shall be deemed to have committed a crime punishable by death (on-the-spot penalty).
9. The moon is made of cheese.
10. Former England football international and club manager Peter Reid has NOT got an ugly monkey’s head.
11. From the basement of Framley’s department store in Barnsley you can see 97 continents.
12.Women really aren’t bothered how big a man’s penis is.
13. Men never think after they’d had sex with a woman “Oh God, I’ve got to hold her now and the pizza place closes in half an hour”.
14. Buying a second-hand car off Jeffrey Archer is a really good idea.
15. Timmy Mallet is NOT an abject cunt.
16. David Icke was right all along.
17. Walking into work and telling your boss he is a pathetic, fat, ugly, insecure, arse-licking, talentless tosser with a face like an anally recycled curry who you would not piss on were he on fire is both dishonest and a good career move.
18. It is a good idea to always be honest when your wife asks “Does my bum look big in this?” and say “Walk 200 yards down the street and ask me again”.
19. Staines is one of the forgotten beauty spots of England.
…………………………and finally…………………………
20. Father Christmas DOESN’T exist for members of the Metropolitan Police Force’s tactical firearms unit.

Ivor the Engine or Noggin the Nog?

SCENE: “The” pub, 6pm, the end of the week.

ENTER: PITHER; suit grubby with fag burns, tea stains, newspaper print and dog excreta; top button undone, tie knot down by left nipple, shirt out at the back; hair akin to that of Mayor of Hiroshima shortly after “the incident”.

COLLECTION OF MUTANT PALS PROPPING UP BAR, HEADS SWIVELLING ROUND: “Whaddo, Piths. How’s it hangin’?”

PITHER: “Crap, but your concern is touching. A pint of Scruttocks Ole Dirigible please……and a bag of Scampi Fries – they’re the nearest I get to oral sex these days.

GENIAL HOST aka CHARLIE CAROLIE: “You been covering that Shannon Matthews thingy?”

PITHER: “Strangely, no. I work on the Cow and Carrot Cruncher, you see. Dewsbury’s not on us. Besides, my talents are limited to “bird found in tree” and “traffic lights change” these days.

UBIQUITOUS POMPOUS TEACHER: “How would you seek to transform the social under-class of which Shannon’s mother and so many other benefit-dependent, amoral, sink-estate chavs are a part?”

FATAL (so called, because his name’s Alan and he’s fat): “Are you going to finish those Scampi Fries?”

PITHER: “That’s a tricky one, Martin. I’ve got to admit, right now I couldn’t give a shit!”

UBIQUITOUS POMPOUS TEACHER: “I believe we will never advance as a society until we abolish the welfare state and introduce a policy of selective, forced sterilisations.”

THE TROUBLES (he’s Irish and can start a fight in a phone box): “Do I hear the distant sound of jackboots?”

PITHER: “It’s a view, certainly. Challenging, but a view. You always were a tad right of centre for a supposed Labour voter, Martin. You have always wanted to bring back hanging.”

UBIQUITOUS POMPOUS TEACHER: “Millions of people up and down the country want to bring back hanging.”

GENIAL HOST: “Not in public!”

LAMB: “What was the real name of Sid Vicious?”

ALL, AS ONE: “What??!!??”

LAMB: “Well, that Johnny Rotten cretin who’s advertising butter now was John Lydon……so who was Sid Vicious?”

FATAL: “Are you going to eat that pack of dry roast?”

PITHER: “I never really got punk. I liked the music but couldn’t get my mind round hoards of kids with purple Mohicans po-going around with bolts through their noses, all shouting ‘I want to be different!’.”

LAMB: “Did you know, there never really was a Seaman Stains in Captain Pugwash?”

THE TROUBLES: “Bollocks!”

LAMB: “S’true!! There wasn’t a Master Bates, either.”

STRANGER: “John Simon Ritchie.”

GENIAL HOST: “Pleased to meet you, John – are you going to drink or just stand there?”

STRANGER: “No, no. John Simon Ritchie – he is Sid Vicious.”

PITHER: “Not any more!”

LAMB: “You’ll never beat The Herbs. ‘I’m a very friendly lion called Parsley……..’”

Mrs LAMB: “He’s been under a lot of stress at work lately.”

PITHER: “I’m going outside for a fag.”

ASSEMBLED CAST: “Me too….and me….and me…..yeah, why not?”

MEIN HOST: “I’ll join you.”

THE TROUBLES: “Errrrr, Charlie, that’ll leave no-one behind the bar.”

MEIN HOST: “The new barmaid has started tonight. She’ll keep an eye on things. She’s thick as a yard of pig shit and got a face to match…..but she’s cheap.”

PITHER: “What’s her name?”

MEIN HOST: “Dunno.”

PITHER: “You never did get that Investors in People Award, did you?”

FATAL: “Whose are those crisps?”

LAMB: “Didn’t you used to love Airfix kits? I remember my mate and me once got all our models together in the back garden and then shot them to pieces with his brother’s air rifle.”

THE TROUBLES: “You do realise people can hear you talking?”

PITHER: “Yeah, Pete. A cracking tale……just don’t mention it when your social worker comes round.”

UBIQUITOUS POMPOUS TEACHER: “Well, I’m off. I’m going to a skittles night with my wife’s choral society.”

MEIN HOST: “Shhhhiiiiiiitttttttttttt!!! Life on the edge, no net!!!! Try not to crash on the way there.”

BLOKE WHO’S ALWAYS IN THE PUB BUT NO-ONE KNOWS HIS NAME: “I’m going back inside. I’m freezing my tits off here.”

PITHER: “Thank you, Michael Fish. Yeah, it is a bit nippy. Another pint of Scruttocks, please.”

FATAL: “Be a mate, get us a bag of Bacon Fries while you’re there.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

And so the evening went. I got home at about 10.30pm, somewhat lubricated but alive. Where else can you get conversations of this calibre? Why have I recorded it? Well, because it's all true and it's typical of the intellectual exchanges which go on there every night.

I love the pub.

Psssst!! Wanna Dog?

I've taken in another dog - that brings the canine count up to five!!

I'm only fostering him until I can find him a permanent home - this I swear unto myself.
.
He and two others were left tethered in a back garden for two weeks after the scumbags in the house buggered off and left them. They were fed by neighbours throwing food over the fence until they were rescued. Two were found homes quickly. That leaves the lad who's with me. He's gorgeous, gentle, loving and clever - just starved of affection.

He came with the God-awful name of "Taz". That HAS to go.

In the meantime, anyone want a lovely dog? Don't worry, no harm will come to him if no-one steps forward. Pither Towers will just become that little bit more crowded!

Another Whitewash at The Oval

The familiar dank smell of whitewash is seeping out of The Oval today. Usually it’s the Australians who are responsible for the odour, accustomed as they are to drubbing our hapless cricketers five-nil in The Ashes. This time the stench is emanating from the mouth of Sir Michael Wright QC.

Sir Michael is the coroner sitting on the jury inquest in the John Major Room at the Oval into the death of Jean Charles de Menezes, the innocent Brazilian shot seven times in the head in July 2005 on the London Underground by armed police who believed he was a suicide bomber.





The coroner ruled yesterday that the jury could not decide 27-year-old Mr de Menezes was illegally killed. He would only permit them to bring in either an open verdict or one of lawful killing.

This stinks so much I hardly know where to start! Firstly, I am not entirely sure of the legality of Wright’s ruling. I know that coroner’s can, and do, guide juries on occasions and they have been known to offer them a choice of verdicts – but not when the whole spirit of the hearing is to establish in public whether or not a person was legally or illegally killed.

An inquest IS a court hearing but the rules governing it are somewhat more lax than in the criminal courts. Nevertheless, the coroner’s role is ostensibly that of a judge. He "records" a verdict in normal instances but in particular circumstances a jury is empanelled to "return" a verdict. Like a judge, the coroner is there to decide or rule on matters of law, that’s why a coroner is invariably a qualified lawyer. The role of the jury is the same as it is in criminal cases – to decide on matters of fact. It is the jury which decides guilt or innocence in a criminal court, it should be the jury which decides on the verdicts available to them at an inquest.

Unlawful killing is an obvious verdict which the jury at the de Menezes inquest should have considered, given the circumstances, but Wright said “no”. His justification was that, to his mind, the evidence did not justify such a verdict. S’CUSE ME, YOUR QC-SHIP, SHURELY SHUM MISHTAKE?? You’re there to decide on the law, it’s the jury which decides whether there is or is not evidence to justify a particular verdict. That’s the whole fucking point of having a jury in the first place!!!

This inquest has lasted 11 weeks, heard evidence from 100 witnesses and cost around £3 million. What, pray, was the bloody point of wasting all that money, all that time and the testimony of all those people if the coroner was going to decide what the fucking verdict should be at the end of it??

No evidence to justify a verdict of unlawful killing, eh? Well, what about every single independent eyewitness at the scene disputing the testimony of the police gunmen that they gave a warning to Mr Menezes? What did those witnesses have to gain by saying he was shot without any warning? What did the police officers have to gain by claiming they did give a warning? You do the maths, as they say.

What about the confusion among officers about whether Mr de Menezes had or had not been positively identified as the terrorist target they had been on the lookout for? What about the shooting seven times to the head? One would do it, I would have thought. Two would be a belt-and-braces exercise. Three is the sign of a man intent on doing a thorough job…….but seven??!!?? I think you’re into the realms of a gun-toting, unprofessional, inadequately trained nutter on the loose in public with a loaded weapon there!

No wonder Mr de Menezes’ family walked out in both grief and disgust when Wright made his ruling. Firstly, our out-of-control coppers kill their son for absolutely no justifiable reason. Then, either they or fellow passengers on that ill-fated Tube train lie about what actually happened. Finally, a senior judicial figure overrides the principal of “twelve good men/women and true” and rules that HE will decide what happened, not unbiased fellow citizens.

It is not the role of an inquest to apportion blame to specific individuals, I know. That, however, should not mean that a verdict of unlawful killing cannot be brought in a case where the chief suspect/s are known?

Once again, The Met will get off scott free. I just hope Mr de Menezes’ family brings a civil case against the officers and their commanders and then there is a chance they might actually get some closure. However, if the jury now brings in a lawful killing verdict then the current slim chance of any criminal prosecution will disappear altogether.

Sir Michael Wright QC can go to Grantham - Pither's ruling!

Shitty Chitty No Show.

Theatrical bus queue?


Thanks to The Farmer for spotting this gem in our local newspaper, the Distress & Stir.
I’m not sure if it says more about the paucity of good theatrical productions or the lack of any brains or news sense among kids on papers these days.
The article reads:

“Big-name musical Chitty Chitty Bang Bang will be flying into Wolverhampton next summer, it was announced today.
“The stage version of the classic tale will take to the Grand Theatre stage between July 29 and August 15 with a 100-strong cast, including 10 dogs and extravagant sets.
"It is not yet known whether it will feature the famous flying car."

What does the autumn schedule at the Grand hold, I wonder? Four Brides for Three Brothers? Jack and the Small Legume? Lawrence of Altringham? The Sound of Humming?

All billing suggestions welcomed.