Death and Stuff.
March 17, 2006
Ahoy Ahoy.
Two old locals dies this month so I move up the Village Idiot charter to 82nd in line. I had little or nothing to do with their deaths and neither you, nor Whitby police can prove otherwise.
Our cottage has involuntarily moved another two inches towards the beach. The dustbins have eventually been emptied leaving thirty million flies homeless. Our mad friend and her baby have moved into a new house in Scarborough with her boyfriend who still lives in the 1960s. They seem happy. Eric is still alive but telling more lies than the British Government so I am avoiding him.
Not much more to add at present, now get off your sorry arse and package me up some DVDs. If you can’t be bothered to write me a letter surely you must have the brain power to do that.
Don’t make yourself a stranger.
Yours, dribbling in hope
Ted and long suffering family.
P.S. If you ever do that again, I’ll burn your fucking house down. Got It?
Ted.
Robin Hoods Bay Daily Grind
March 13, 2006
Ahoy Ahoy.
Well, Holly’s at work and I am cleaning the microwave with some smart squirty chemicals I ‘borrowed’ from one of my cleaning jobs. This rich couple buy all the latest gadgets and the most expensive caustic sprays for me to clean their flat with, and I replace them with 18p bleach from Wilkinsons, and own brand Vim. Our house is very clean though. So is the dog now. The bottles said ‘NOT TESTED ON ANIMALS’ so I recified that. He now smells like an alpine forest in spring. Albeit a hairy one. Have you tried thos Mr. Sheen floor cleaning devices? They’re about a million pounds to buy but the’re great fun for scaring cats with.
The cricket has resumed again. Bad light keeps stopping play. They are such fucking wooses the cricketers. When I was younger, I used to play football in the dark, and darts.
My book (books) are going well. One needs a load of layout and cut and pasting which is fiddly and time consuming, but it’s coming along. I need inspiration today. I might go and stand next to the headland and breathe in the cool breeze from the arctic sea. Or I might just go to the Dolphin next door for a pint.
The post has just been. The dog got three parcels (true) all addressed to ‘Ben The Dog’. One from Littlewoods giving him his own credit account, a free book and a membership to a gardening club. I shall have to have a word with him. But in the meantime I’m going to study the bra section in the Littlewoods catalogue. Just for, erm, research purposes. I put his name as a joke on a market research survey and now the little bastards getting stuff on H.P. - I’d love to see them get him into court. Piss and shit everywhere. (It’s ok, I’m not really going to order anything in his name, I might be stupid but I’m not a thief).
Just been out, it’s midday and a school bus is wedged, stuck fast, by the Laurel pub and our local bucket and spade shop. Stupid Leeds Bastards. Well, Bradford actually, but near enough. There are HUGE signs at the top of the hill warning that NOBODY will be allowed in a motor vehicle in our village yet the driver but be blind, or drunk, or indeed blind drunk.
I looked inside but there were no dead children. Shame. I had my digital camera on me and I could have sold that picture everywhere. The police will come. The insurance firms will come, and eventually a tractor will come. Fucking stupid idiots.
Still you gotta laugh.
Anyway, I’d like to thank the public for the Oscar I received last week for the world’s most pointless man, and I dedicate my award to the fucking baby Jesus.
I am now going to set fire to some school childre. But it’s ok, Mr. Bush and Mr. Blair used the same excuse “God told me to do it”.
See you in the Sunday Papers.
Yours offensively.
Ted.
Leeds, Whitby, Schoolkids and Piss.
March 11, 2006
Ahoy Ahoy.
The Bay has been over-run by school parties from Leeds visiting the Maritime museum and catching bird flu on the beach. Crime has gone up four fold. I forgot just how much eight year olds can swear, and smoke, and drink. White Lightening cider sold out in all the stores (something to calm the teachers probably) and all the litter bins were left over-flowing with Dairylea Dunkers cartons and Penguin wrappers, and junior condoms.
Bastards.
I fucking hate Leeds. I go to hospital regularly there. It’s so tall and full of chavs. Everything is either broken, graffitied, run by an immigrant, or all three together. The trains smell of piss, the bus station smells of piss and all the public toilets are closed. I know, I pissed in the Bus Station.
In Whitby it’s now 20p for a wee and 40p for a poo in the ‘public’ toilets. I go to William Hills and get 60ps worth of defecation for nothing. Fuck the Council.
The cricket is at ‘lunch’ it’s 6.30am. England have already lost two wickets for 37 runs. Not Good. I’m going to take the dog on the beach before the sea comes back. I’ve made a stew and curry and a pasta dish and it’s not even 7am. Now I’m off to clean the toilet, do all the washing up and then shave. Holly will be up about 8am. I will walk up to the car with her, I need some stamps and a newspaper from the Post Office, nearly a mile away, where we park the car.
Still no parking permit. The Counmcil are bastards. I’ve put the rubbish bags out. A small van comesaround and picks them up. No chance of getting a proper dustbin lorry down our village. Well, If one did get down it would never be able to get back up. I dont think it could take the corners anyway.
Ahoy Ahoy.
Ted.
Victorian Weekend in The Bay
March 11, 2006
Hello all.
The Victorian Weekend is going ahead this year. It’s a very weird time indeed. Two days where thousands of bloody pensioners dress up like characters from `Dickens` and descend on our village singing carols and buying over-priced mince pies from the Coastguard’s drunk wife. I think they also ram small children up chimneys and Mrs. Mad Pie from the shell shop contracts scurvey for charity. I have resolved to dress up in a spacesuit and carry a 24th century ray gun to ruin their ambience. I pay my poll tax, I’ll do what I fucking want.
More from The Bay.
March 10, 2006
Ahoy Ahoy.
England have won the toss. Flintoff (fresh from giving birth) is going to bat, I think. Play should start at around 5.15am our time. You can tell what time it is in India by turning your watch upside down (unless it’s digital, obviously)… it works, I’ve tried it. I’m going to make another coffee, let Ben, our dog run around the village while I chase him with a poo bag and then make Holly’s packed lunch when I get back. I’ve just re-read that bit and it sounds like I might be putting dog’s poo in Holly’s sandwiches. Who knows? I will tell her it’s Marmite and peanut butter and the crunchy bits are onion.
Well, England have batted off, or whatever they do in cricket. The batsmen are facing a seventeen year old Indian who had to take time off school to play (true). He is still better than any of the English players. The dog did two poo’s for those of you who may be interested and he had fresh chicken for breakfast. It’s raining in Bay and today high tide is at 10am (5.4 meters).
I still need DVDs, anything will do. Last night I watched ‘Hitchhikers Guide’ the film, which Holly and I went to see at the cinema. I will watch it again with the Directors commenatry on. Tonight after I’ve finished my writing and reading for the day I will treat myself to ‘Peter Pan’. I’m only watching one DVD a day to make them last.
Holly has nearly finished her website thing. If you want photos of stuff here, you know, snow the high tide fiasco, the dog having a poo etc, send us your email address and Holly might send you some on the computer. I am not alllowed withing ten feet of it.
Ben (the dog) got bitten the other day by a canine the size of a large mouse. He was pathetic for hours afterwards. I had to pull them apart. I am hard like that. The dogs owner was a shit arse wimp of a bloke. I nearly punched him.
Ahoy Ahoy.
Ted.
Good Morning Campers
March 9, 2006
Well, it’s 4am on Thursday, and I’ve been let down by the rain. It’s bloody poored in India and the second test is delayed. The good news is that it has given captain Andy Flintoff time to have a baby(??)
It’s been a busy week, our landlords are coming over from France to do all the repairs on our house they should have done before we moved in (and the heroin dealers were evicted). I’m going to get my carpets steamed (not drunk you understand, cleaned). There was so much broken by the police raid the week before we moved in, it was the talk of the Bay. Six police cars, dogs, riot shields, (more on them later) and two meat wagons. All to arrest a teenager and his girlfriend. They recovered cannabis with a ’street’ (ie. Inflated) price of around £8 and a tenners worth of brown. The operation cost the taxpayers upwards of eight grand and over £1000 worth of damage was done to the premisis. Now is it just me that’s stupid?
Anyway, the landlords are going to replace the fireplace, lino, some sockets, toilet seats, taps etc. -we have already had a cowboy from Whitby to ‘repair’ the light sockets, replace the flourescent in the kitchen and re-attach most of the gas meter and gas fittings, as well as ripping up the lino in the kitchen. (I say kitchen, but it’s really just the walkway between the front room and the combination shower / toilet). That’s all happening next week, clashing with Jude from Worksop and her friend who are supposed to be staying here on the floor crammed between the armchair and fireplace. That’ll be impossible. To be honest I will probably offer them our bed and Holly and I will crush up in the living room / toilet area. It really is that small here. Still, I’ve slept with nine others in a carvanette, so anything is possible I suppose.
Happy Happy Joy Joy
March 5, 2006
Hi, non pen pals.
Ye who have no hands to write - no matter. I will pretend you write me long letters. I have a vivid imagination.
Thank you Finlay and Pru for the 9 DVDs, and to Eric for the 22 DVDs. For those of you who have promised me JPEGS and piles of DVD’s please do send them
Well, I’ve had a good week, surrounded by nine inches of snow. Bob and Louise stayed the week in Scarborough and I saw them most days. Holly couldn’t get into work for for a couple of days because the village was cut off. High tide proved to be a pesky nuisance in Bay and Scarborough.
Poor Linda Smith, a comedien popular on Radio 4 has died of cancer. The mighty Gretna Football Club only need two points to be promoted (Hurrah!) and our local Parish magazine had half a page of poems and obituaries to little Buster the dog who lived upstairs and died in our arms. I tried giving him the kiss of life, that might have finished him off.
My book is coming along well, but again PLEASE send me some culture, and DVDs, MP3s or JPEGS. I cannot play VCDs or computer files, and nor can our computer, apparently, so Holly says. I’m not allowed near it, it could catch fire again.
Don’t be a chump.
Ted. Living in the fast lane at Robin Hoods Bay.
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