Ellen Page - Update
August 11, 2008
Today
August 11, 2008
Another month another top Trevor Chettle bet. The last bet on may 15th won, it was Man U to win the european Cup outright at 10/11 which won putting the profit to £52 for three bets at £10 a time, average stake, heres the Fourth bet, and the fifth, put some of that profit on these. BE QUICK, its tomorrow. Tuesday 12th august. LEEDS TO BEAT CHESTER CITY, some bookmakers going 4/6 take that, you can get even better online although some are only offering 1/2 small odds but its all about winning. making profit nothing else. put £20 on this at 4/6 returning £33.32 when it wins. its a shoe in. Leeds putting out their strongest side. Chester haven`t got a strongest side. they lost 6.0 at weekend with whats left. You can get better odds of Leeds winning by two or more goals but a win I am going for. also put £10 of your profit on a LEEDS win double with Crystal Palace to beat Hereford at 1/2 although better prices may be available. that should return you a further £24.99 that match starts tues eve at eight. Last year I made a 74 Point profit on 44 bets. Not enough for some people but I WIN REGULARLY. couldn`t afford not to get a job if i didn`t. all my luck,TREVOR CHETTLE,monday 11th august 2008
Gazza Goes Lapdancing
August 11, 2008
Gazza goes lapdancing in Bridlington and knocks down the Pack Horse.
Well Ay. Ave been oop that new lapdancing cloob in Brid. Canny good man. It’s had over seven thousand visitors so far, so the papers say. I went with Sheryl, we’re gonna get married like. I’m sure we did that before.
Anyway, this lapdancing club is like full of old blokes drinkin’ Baileys and swearin’. And there’s this wee bairn in a bikini on an’ she’s sat really bored in the corner readin’ Heat magazine. Wish I’d bought me owl book Kes with me now. Sheryl won’t let me have a beer so I’ve gotta drink Coke at eight quid a can. It’s cheaper than that on the fookin’ moon man.
I think I might go fishin’ off the pier. Caught a dolphin once like, put it in me keep net then let it go ‘cos it were crying’ like. They’re intelligent them things apparently. Not like that Stephen Hawkins, more like that Jordan. Ya know, street smart. Or sea smart probably.
I really canny see what all the foos is about these lapdancing clubs. I’m gonna go oop Old Town fer a lime and lemonade at the Queens Hotel. They got that Sky Sports now, five different channels on five different TV’s. It’ll do me head in watchin’ Spurs vs Barnet with the commentary from the boxing in the background. There’s even Test Cricket in the fookin’ bogs - champion eh! The footie season starts proper next week an I haven’t got a team to play fer. Might see if Bridlington Town need a daft mid-fielder. Now I’m off the ale I feel canny. Fit as a fiddle. I fancy me chances at fookin’ cricket like. Daft game that, throwin’ a ball at some daft fookers head at aboot a hundred miles a fookin’ hour. Mad that. Canne sus out the rules like, but I’m ok with one of them baseball bat things, so I could be canny good at that cricket. Might look into it now I’m off the ale, like.
I’m gettin’ back to me old smiley self, Sheryl even trusts me to walk back to The Priory on me own like.
TEN MINUTES LATER.
Well, I just popped into The Pack Horse fer a wee snifter. Just a glass or two to help me sleep tonight. An’ one thing led to another and somehow I told Sue the Landlady I was a qualified bricklayer like. Don’t know where that came from, and after me eighth pint I’m knocking a fookin’ wall down at the end of the bar. Don’t have a fookin’ clue what I’m rippin’ out just put a window in the mens bogs though with me sledgehammer. And somehow the cistern fell on the floor and there’s water and shit everywhere. I think maybe I’ll pretend that I needed to take this wall oot as an integral part of me smashing oop the wall in the bar, thirty yards away.
God, I’m pissed as a monkey, and if I’m honest I’ve made a bit of a mess of this job. Think I’ll sit down, have a few more pints and tell Sue I’ll finish the job in the mornin’ like, when they’ve got rid of all the water and they can get the leccy back on.
25 MINUTES LATER
Now Johnny Hill and Jules, two proper tradesmen are inspecting me handywork and I think they’re canny impressed how much I managed to break in such a short spell of time. Well, I’ve been told I’m not needed to finish the job, got paid in ale like, an’ am gonna have a couple more while I watch proper tradesmen rebuildin’ me wall with me owls as company like. Yup, me owly mates are back, only a few of ‘em but I reckon if I keep drinkin’ I might get a whole flock of ‘em by closin’ time. Or is it a pride of owls? Nah, that’s cows innit. Or is it sunflowers?
CLOSING TIME
I’m layin’ in a ditch with a whole host of screamin’ owls and a crate of Pimms.
I’m a little fookin’ monkey man, me.
MY MUM IS A DORK
August 9, 2008
My mum is still giving me grief over the credit card thing. That was months ago old dear. MOVE ON . Christ on a bike what`s wrong with you woman nobody got killed. Lighten up. anyway, I promised to be extra good to her and she has re instated my pocket money. Good that saves me having to nick it out of her purse. Ive had to survive on the fiver Twiss gives me to clean her flat on a saturday morning. She has put a password on her computer the bitch and I cant get in. Not that I would. I`ve learnt my lesson. She doesn`t trust me obviously well thats great big sister thanks. who`s side are you on ? Anyway I`ve saved my mum loads of trouble this month, I`ve not leant out any of her clothes to Hannah or Boosh, I saved her hassle by Signing my own school report card when we broke up in July, and don`t forget I stopped my Hunger strike after four hours, saving her the problems social services would have caused her should I have starved to death. and I`m not going to tell her I`ve started smoking, therby saving her having a heart attack. see who says I don`t care.
PS Boosh where is my henna shampoo. You borrowed it when we went swimming, let me have it back and I promise to try and get the cat shit off that skirt you lent me.
More coming
Birthday Hangover From Hell
August 8, 2008
Oh god what a birthday. I have been puking green vomit since six am, Seven hours ago and its still coming. Ben Kirkham, irrisponsible drinker of the year 2007 made me drink Lambrini and vodka and cider.lots of it. And he made me ill. My own boss made me ill. Bastard. Still, I never did get round to finishing his bloody kitchen, serves him right. My head feels awful, my legs are jelly and I have to blow up 40 balloons for Avos 21st birthday tonight at the Queens. I will never drink again, well not until I get to the pub later anyway.
I am getting too old for this crap. My virtual party went well with over 50 people turning up. Carter Usm played a set and I spiked the punch.
Tunes Ice Cream Vans Shouldn’t Play
August 8, 2008
‘Greensleaves’ is ok, so is ‘Yankoo Doodle Dandy’. Can’t fathom why you’d associate them with buying a cone with frozen cows juice swirled onto it, but what music shouldn’t ice cream retailers advertise their wares with?
The Fight Song, Marilyn Manson,
Reality Nightmare, Crass,
Anything by Bolt Thrower,
Insane Membrane, Cypress Hill,
Stupid Kid, Alkaline Trio,
Breakdown, Buzzcocks,
DOA, Foofighters,
Geek Stink, Green Day,
Dead In Hollywood, Murder Dolls,
The Hate Song, Raging Speedhorn,
The Hell Song, Sum 41,
We Die Young, Alice In Chains,
Torniquet, Marilyn Manson,
Candyman, Siouxie and the Banshees,
Anything by the Butthole Surfers,
Suffer Little Children, The Smiths,
I Touch Myself, The DeVinyls,
Mickey Mouse Mother Fuckers, Mocky,
Unsolved Child Murder, The Auteurs,
Can you think of any more?
Kes - A Book Review
August 8, 2008
Bridlington Priory Lockdown
Way Ay, I’m in the Priory an’ they locked me door so I canne go to the poob. A’ve got basket weaving and group councilling comin’ out me fookin’ arse. Am so bored. Bianca won’t see me and bring me tabs, an’ I need a can or two badly.. All I got is me four walls an’ a book on owls called Kes.
It’s canny good mind, It’s set oop north an’ a kid trains a fighting owl or summit.Not read a book since I were at junior school. Paddington or summit it were. About a tame lion livin’ in London as I recall. Used to bite tourists as I remember.
Anyway, this Kes the owl thing, he’s like this kids best friend an’ he takes it to school in his pocket. It learns Spanish as I remember. But to be honest me heads a bit mucked up with the drugs they’re giving me like, an’ I might have got some of the finer points mixed oop. Anyway, this Kes the owl has a fight with the school dog. And wins. And becomes everyones best friend. And the dog dies. And they bury it alive or summit.
It’s a love story, anyhow. The lads brother strangles the owl in a fit of rage and everyone lives happily ever after.
Canny good book. Canne wait fer the fil’m. That Demi Moore’s gonna be in it. As the owl.
Gazza.
Trevor Chettle Ace Chip Fryer
August 7, 2008
Lost me job at the fair for fiddling. Got grassed up. You have to collect tokens see but I had this scam going with this bird in the information booth. I`d give her £1.50s worth of tokens and she`d give me a quid for em. We both win. Nobody gets hurt see. The fuckin Management didn`t see it that way and they fuckin sacked me .Cunts. Got me full pay though and I still had forty quids worth of tokens which I flogged to a family of Wezzies on the sea front for £25 and a packet of tobacco .Anyway as luck would have it a mate of mine told me a chip shop in the old Town were looking for counter staff. easy money really and when you need work, a jobs a job. So Now I`m working part time at Gabbys Chippy and on the door in town. I just about get by. I`ve put on six pounds in weight cos of all the chips I nick, and none of me jeans fit me. Fuck I gotta find a way to make some easy money. Life wasn`t supposed to be as hard as this.
Jon Fat Beast cleans Bens Kitchen
August 7, 2008
… and regrets volunteering for the job.
The Queens Hotel used to have a ‘Top Chef’. Lad from Manchester, cooked for the Queen of England, had a Goodyear star after his crappy mancunian name. He was introduced to Ben by a nutter associate of his that really shouldn’t have been trusted. The chef cooked dishes of Wild Trout and Almonds, concocted meals with exotic ingredients from around the globe - the he burnt the pub down.
Yes, he was an arsonist, not a bad cook, a fucking arsonist that had done time in Strangeways Prison for his ‘firestarting’. This all came to light a month after he had set fire to the Queens and run away.
I inherited his kitchen to clean.
Months of putrified take-away trays, rancid, mouldy plates stuck together with alien fungi. The stench was worse than dead bodies rotting in the Old Town sun. I have just emptied two bins of gak, smattered baby turds encased in fried rice mould, faeces splattered cups, broken chop sticks tainted with warm, glowing, oozing shit that was alive, pulsing, trying to make its way to freedom to infect and destroy the human immune system.
I puked twice in the car park throwing the nose piercingly hellish shit into a red Biffa bin. Then I puked again…..
Well, I ventured back into the puke infested hell hole that is Bens kitchen and I wished I hadn’t. The green stench is hanging over the dishwasher, which is still bursting at the seams with unwashed dishes from the Queens Hotel Christmas Party. Bits of tinsel mixed with gungy brown furry stuff. I put three dishwasher tablets in, closed the door and puked in the chip fryer. Well, it already needed cleaning out so that didn’t create another job, just a messier one.
Stuart has now arrived, drunk, from The Globe, and is currently smacking an iron tray ( ala ‘muletrain’) over his already broken and bruised brain. he keeps doing it, whilst screaming loudly for a full minute and a half. His forehead is red raw, really lobster red and oozing with something. He is talking in an oriental / welsh accent about the forthcoming olympics in China. He is thinking of appearing. Of going over to China and telling them whats what. Stuart doesn’t even know where the toilet seat is, let alone where fucking China is. I’m sure he hasn’t ever been allowed a passport. He made his own driving license and his C.I.D. pass, so it’s entirely possible he has a home made one. Made out of a cornflake box and a marrow, probably.
I am going to go back into the kitchen as Stuart has his spotty cock out, and I know what’s coming next. He faked masturbating into a pint glass last week.
Ben wants to cook food again. Or actually he wants someone else to cook it for him. He thinks it’s ‘The Future’. Ben thinks most things are the future. I think it’s because he has no short term memory because of his continuing party lifestyle, which shows no sign of slowing down. ‘Comedians are the future’. ‘Pints of red wine with an aftershock chaser’, they’re the future, ‘fighting with yourself and then having a piss in your own wardrobe’, that’s the future, ‘Cooking meals for our stupid drunk customers’, that’s the future.
It seems it might be my future if I can’t think of a way of getting out of it, or making a great deal of money out of it Ben. Both seem unlikely today. Now tomorrow is another day. Ben will have forgotton all the tasks he gave me to do today and he will have forgotton all about the kitchen too.
FOUR HOURS LATER.
I’m washing the horrible cutlery and I have now disinfected all the surfaces. The place looks and smells like a kitchen. The wheelie bin is full of things I couldn’t be bothered to wash that Kirkham won’t miss and the kitchen can be opened for business. But of course that will never happen because we all know that within a week the place will be full of rancid takeaway dishes and Ben’s mouldy life.
Rock on.
Dog
August 7, 2008
I have the loudest dog in the world.. no shit. He can’t jump through hoops. He doesn’t understand simple commands and he shits where he feels like. Yet he’s loud. In every aspect of being a dog. Now i am a dog person. Dogs rub themselves against me in the street to smell the urine on my trousers. I am a friend of the dog. But why oh why is my small fat dog so loud? I wear ear plugs in bed because of him. He is trying to vocalise, I know it. He is evolving. In a non-stop gesture of grunts, barks, farts and sniffs, and believe me it does not stop, he is trying to communicate. And he is trying to say FEED ME
Business Reviews
BUSINESS REVIEW. This Week Bridlington Old Town Pubs.THE QUEENS HOTEL High Street Old Town Bridlington. Reviewed by MAD GAZZA and his OWLS Way ay, I landed a canny job here like. The Bridlington Penguin has asked me,... Read more »
Bridlingtons Cartoon Network
