Tosser Talk.

It irks Mecannylad no end when I hear the business set in our local village pub going on about their creative compensation packages.
I ask you, what the hell is a creative compensation package ? …… The rest of us are happy to call it either our salary, a bonus or our wages.
Get off your posing high horses you bunch of nonces and talk some plain English.

So bloody utterly useless.

Mecannylad has come to the conclusion that nowadays – at least here in England - if your favourite football team still regularly kicks off at the traditional time of 3pm on a Saturday it’s a sign that they are so bloody utterly useless no TV broadcaster is interested in covering them !!

These pea-brained creeps should be put down.

No animal is more full of love than a dog and no animal is more worthy of love than a dog. Mecannylad has had another great day in the company of Mecannycocker.

But it seems wherever you decide to exercise your dog these days – and the beautiful hills and dales of the Peak District are unfortunately no exception – you are still likely to come across young, preening, ­pea-brained creeps brandishing their canines like lethal weapons. 

I`ve come to the conclusion that the real problem is not so much aggresive dogs but more the bone-headed, bloody idiots who own them.

…… That’s who we should be putting down.

The scandal of all scandals.

Mecannylad has been having his regular moan to Mecannylass about how much tax I am still paying …. and me being a pensioner now …. I tell you …. it`s nothing short of scandalous !

But the scandal of all scandals is how last year our ex Prime Minister Tony Blair has contrived to pay just £315,000 tax on an income of £12million. Just do the sums for yourself !

The real wonder is that the man hasn’t died of shame by now.

I wonder how many times `God Save the Queen` will be played at this summer`s Olympic games ?

Pity we didn`t have an anthem with more bloody `oomph` about it ! 

Methinks the UK should take a leaf out of La Marseillaise.

Aux armes, citoyens!
Formez vos bataillons!
Marchons, marchons!
Qu’un sang impur!
Abreuve nos sillons!

That’s what we want. Shoulders back, chin up ….. and a National Anthem with an exclamation mark after every line !!

She still has an uncanny knack of getting me going !

`Hi, Mecannylad , it`s only me` ….. Oh my goodness, and there I was expecting the Queen.

Why does Mecannylass always insist on announcing herself to me like that whenever she returns home from a shopping trip or something. It is so damned annoying.

And whilst I`m on my high horse ….. another one of her bloody expressions that gets me going …`Are you prepared to take this on board ?

I`m not on a bloody plane or a boat for God`s sake !!

Farting for England.

Don`t you just love the involuntary smells and noises old people generate.

Mecannylad was in a queue behind nonagenarian George in our local butcher`s shop the other day. He was rattling away like a popcorn machine; obviously quite unaware of what was happening back at his rear end. I can only put this down to the fact that perhaps old George is a little hard of hearing and maybe also suffering from a dulled sense of smell.

Whatever it was, George was farting for England, chatting away as if nothing was happening …… and by inference deflecting the blame onto a blushing yet innocent Mecannylad stood right behind him !!

What technique !

Honest guv … it really was Witney Houston`s brother !!

Don`t you just love those obscure celebrity connections some people come up with in conversation ?

Is it because living where we do we feel more remote than most from the glitzty world of showbiz ? I don`t know …. but the villagers here in Eyam are some of the worst name-droppers Mecannylad has ever known.

Like the mother of the guy I see most mornings walking his dog once worked with a woman who went to school with Susan Boyle !!? ..... and our milkman`s cousin`s husband used to deliver newspapers to Simon Cowell`s brother`s house !

And how about this from Mecannylass no less. She has apparantly been passing the time of day with Whitney Houston`s brother Gary and his wife Pat. She bumped into them in Wardlow yesterday. Yes …. Really. I ask you…What the hell is Whitney Houston`s brother doing in a Peak District hamlet on a damp and miserable January afternoon ?

Answers to Mecannylad @ !!

Peak District Pariahs and Poser`s Postcodes

I imagine there are thousands of Gordon Gekko clones out there dreaming about quitting their mad city existence and escaping to the glorious Peak District in search of the good life. Mecannylad is one of the lucky ones who has grasped the nettle and done exactly that … although I don`t think I was ever in the Gordon Gekko league !

But the increasing numbers of `greed is good` city slickers who are buying up rural properties only to use them as fancy high day and holiday retreats are doing us no favours whatsoever.

These weekend shysters end up taking more out of our local community than they put in to it. For the life of me, why don`t they stay within the confines of their beloved city, take the money they are spending on second homes and upsize to a grand mansion in Whirlow or some other Poser`s Postcode. It`s more their style surely.
We`ll willingly take your money as a day tripper of course but never forget that as a `weekender with a wedge` you will stick out a mile and simply be frowned upon as a `phoney local` …. A Peak District Pariah.

I know Mecannylad does bang on about this sort of thing ….. but it does get my goat !

It was enough to offend anyone`s nostrils.

Right …. Have you ever passed close by a field after a farmer has just sprayed it with fresh slurry ? Now imagine a bit more …. Have you ever stood at a bar next to a farmer who has just sprayed his field with fresh slurry ?

Mecannylad had the pleasure yesterday …. and there is not a word in the dictionary to describe this assault on my olfactory nerves !

Mr Stink stank. He also stunk. And if it is grammatically correct to say he stinked, then he stinked as well !! This reprobate surely must be the stinkiest stinky stinker who has ever set foot in our village pub in a long time. Disgusting …. and he was gorgeously oblivious to it all !

Possibly the worst case of odorant signaling I have ever come across. Put it this way ….. it put me off my pint !

Is it better with …….. or is it better without ?

Mecannylad has been reading about this bloke who is myopic and who alternates between wearing contact lenses and glasses. 

 So what you may ask. While being shortsighted might be a common affliction amongst us hoi polloi ….. it doesn`t usually affect goalkeepers who are at the top of their game …. and paid millions to play for Manchester United. 

 I just can`t believe Sir Alex has chosen to ignore the mild inconvenience that his new goalkeeper is badly myopic and is what amounts to being functionally blind in one eye !!

You `re getting too old Fergie … come and enjoy Mecannylad in retirement !!

Wombs, willies and speed-reading the Karma Sutra.

Shhh … Mecannylad has always had this fancy notion of being an Agony Uncle for some national tabloid newspaper or other! I think I could do a canny job.

For a start. The only thing that prepares first time parents for the daunting job ahead of them is knowing that they have a womb and a willie and by pointing the latter towards the former amazing things will develop.

I suppose,by way of preparation, if Mr Grunt and Miss Nubile were to attempt to climb Everest then they could perhaps  wisely always tackle Snowdon first. But what is the parental equivalent ? Nowt.

And why do you think so many relationships falter nowadays ? It`s simple …. we`ve chosen the wrong partner in the first place! Rushing in unprepared and you are sure to end up wasting years trying to repair a faulted partnership. We don`t research our relationships as much as we should …. that’s what is lacking these days.

There remains a kind of castaway mentality when it comes to the final choice of our lifetime partners. We tend to think, if it is meant to be, then life will do its wondrous work….. life will wash Mr or Mrs Right up on our shore and we will all live happily ever after. Its not like that of course … preparation, research and revision is vital. Don`t laugh, but there is a place for the likes of risk assessments and method statements … even where partners are concerned !

Now before you all go off to sink a bottle of Shiraz and speed-read the Karma Sutra can I suggest you update that risk assessment first. It would be an awful shame if you ended up  climbing Mount Everest yet again !

Combat trousers, PLO scarves, designer stubble and the Hoi Polloi.

Mecannylad has got to tell you that it hasn`t gone unoticed the number of neuralgic professional couples who have been gobbling up the prime properties in our lovely little village lately. You know the sort; – looks, attitude, so called style, city career … and now, country pile.

The `40 something` women amongst them are all cheekbones and cliches, clinging on to their youth, but more obviously clinging on to their bloody iphones and blackberrys much the same way earlier generations of women hung on to their mock leather handbags.

 And their equally cliched husbands are no better. These over assertive, egotistical corporate creeps are always trying too hard to be one of the lads; dressing down so inappropriately – and amusingly - in their outdated M&S Blue Harbour combat trousers, PLO scarves …. and designer stubble.

As a respected representative of the village hoi polloi Mecannylad will have to have a quiet word with these tossers !
 

Do you suffer from arseholism ?

Mecannylad continues to suffer from being exposed to so many arsoholics living around and about me. This is hardly surprising as experts suggest that we all come across at least one every day of our lives!

And the phenominal thing is that arsoholics are totally oblivious to their own arseholism! (Consequently, I suppose, that is the reason why Arsoholics Anonymous hasn`t caught on.)

So how do you know whether one of your friends  is suffering from arseholism ? It`s easy. It`s an incurable human wiring problem that forces sufferers to instinctively speak as if their thought process comes through the lower end of their alimentary canal and not their brain.

If you know what Mecannylad is on about then it is likely that you too could have the early symptoms of being an arsoholic. 

Go and see a doctor.

Even if I say it myself ..... Mecannylad is word perfect !

After months of hard practise Mecannylad is pleased to announce that I am well on the way to qualifying for my badge in practical and hands-on grandparenting.

Infact if ever the powers that be decide to introduce a formal examination in this new found skill of mine, my dissitation would have to be ` Roary the Racing Car`

         “Roary the racing car …Roary my number one star. Rrrroary ….”

Can`t get the bloody tune out of my head now !

F*** Off Roary !!

It has taken me all of my life to realise that a lot of things you think matter don`t !

Mecannylad`s `Sod It` house rules for a better life infuriate Mecannylass something rotten but she knows I am not going to change now !
Be like Mecannylad and imagine, for example, that it doesn`t matter if you are late … or early. Or whether you are here … or there. If you said it … or didn`t say it. If you were a silly so and so … or you were a clever sod. If you are having a bad hair day … or have no hair at all. If your neighbour gives you a funny look, or your wife gives you a funny look … or even if you give yourself a funny look.

Friends; there is always a way.

Join Mecannylad and say `Sod it … it doesn`t bloody matter`Take a leaf from my Geordie Book of Life … you know it makes sense.

How about this Sir Alex …. it surely couldn`t happen at Old Trafford, could it ?

Mecannylad was walking Mecannybairn in the nearby village park yesterday afternoon whilst the local football team were playing their arch rivals. It seemed a feisty affair and there wasn`t long to go before the final whistle so I paused for a few minutes to take in some of the huffing and puffing.

Just as Mecannylad got settled to watch the game I noticed that the managers of both teams were squaring up to one another on the touchline. One accusing the other of influencing play through a series of furtive, tactical mobile phone messages …. to their goalkeeper of all people !!! You what ?

It had transpired that the mobile phone belonging to the defending goalkeeper had actually started to ring (in the pocket of his shorts!!) just as the attacker was taking a penalty kick….. which was missed !

What a farce .. you couldn`t make it up … but great fun.

Mecannylad is feeling particularly patriotic today ... Christ knows why !?

It`s funny how I always consider myself an Englishman before ever being British; yet the flag of St George never stirs my heart the same way as the sight of the dear old Union Jack does.
I don`t know what it is but the red cross on a white background to me always has the cheap scent of a petrol filling station about it; a tatty  100% nylon promotional gift - made in China probably - designed for you to flutter from your car whenever our footballers are playing in a big tournament.
But Mecannylad will never stop loving the Union flag … a flag for all seasons ... my flag … our flag ... a proper flag ... a 100% cotton flag.

God save the Queen ..... what brought that on !!!
 

Get yourself on a sunbed in Majorca and be done with it !!

Mecannylad is mystified by the growing trend for obscure escorted adventure holidays …. you know the sort I mean … trekking in the Kilimanjaro foothills, hiking around Machu Picchu, orienteering in Estonia etc.
The most challenging part of these so called `once in a lifetime experiences` is still probably going to be tackling central London on the way out to Heathrow !

Too busy stealing dead flies from blind spiders.

Friends often ask Mecannylad, whether I ever miss working for a living ?

Yes I do actually, but on reflection I definitely retired at the right time.There was probably not much more a simple song-and-dance man like myself could have offered process, procedure and protocol obsessed organisations.
I could have put them all straight about the piss artists they had a tendancy to recruit and over-promote but nobody ever took the time to ask !

They were all too busy stealing dead flies from blind spiders to ever think whether Mecannylad could do more than sing and dance !
 

Breaking News: Mecannylad accidentally puts his wheelie bins out on the wrong day.

Our domestic waste bins here in Eyam are usually put out by yours truly on a Wednesday night, for collection on a Thursday morning. For some reason this week I put the bins out a day early on Tuesday night instead. Disaster.
 

I am frankly unable to take any personal responsibility for my actions on this occasion … I have to put it down to a temporary confused mental state. I'd had a busy day and I was a little bit tired. Mecannylad simply got the days mixed up. But I feel so guilty and such a fool to think that Mecannylad`s domestic waste and recycling would have sat there for a whole day, out in the rain … and the bitter cold. 

 I can't imagine what the neighbours' must think of us.

You will need to know that this mistake has caused my relationship with Mecannylass to be under considerable strain. Infact this has hit my wife very hard. 'Complete Bloody Numpty' were the words she used.....`and I hope you put that in your bloody blog as well!`

We've had our ups and downs over the years; who hasn't? But this is the worst I can remember … I only hope we can come through it.

 ….. I`m off for a pint.

Which bean made you fart ?

Living within the confines of the glorious Peak District does have the habit sometimes of dulling Mecannylad`s senses of the real world out there. I just need, for example, to take an occasional trip into a typical provincial town centre like Chesterfield to realise that there is still no letting up in the trend for feral teenage mums.
Their irresponsibilty beggars belief. The coniving young so and so`s think nothing of dragging up a small army of kids simply to trouser more benefits to finance their spray tans and seedy social habits.
You know what I mean. Asking these ferals who`s the father of their children would be rather like asking which bean made them fart !

Oh and another thing ... hats !

Kojak looked good in a hat. Hopalong Cassidy looked good in a hat ..... and without a doubt Frank Sinatra looked good in a hat.
But Mecannylass? Never.
A hat always makes my dearly beloved look like she's the dominant partner in a lesbionic relationship.

What the hell is she up to ?

The manager of our local village convenience store has confided in Mecannylad about an awkward situation he is being drawn into.
He is a seriously worried little shop keeper …. unsure whether his conscience should drive him to contact Social Services or the Home Office anti- terrorism Branch about recent purchases from his shop ?! 

You see, he has had a run on Cillit Bang kitchen bleach. He has shifted eighteen plastic spray bottles of the stuff since Christmas …. all to the same person …. dear old octogenarian Hilda. And to add further mystery to the whole affair the shop can recall ordering marzipan from the Cash and Carry especially for – yes, you`ve guessed it – Hilda !
What on earth is going on in our sleepy little village ??

It`s so bloody predictable I don`t take it seriously anymore.

Mecannylass keeps pestering me to consider a sunshine break.
I am never convinced; but the prospect of a cheap and cheerful short holiday to somewhere like Tenerife just won`t go away … it`s the same this time every year!

Four thrombotic hours on a plane … a couple of bladder busting hours on a coach just for a few days being transfixed by nothing more exciting than the shady growth on the upper lips of the local women.
However warmer the weather may be at the other end, the side attractions simply don`t float Mecannylad`s boat I`m afraid.

Gut retching Asian muck.

Those of you who know Mecannylad well enough will remember that I can`t stand curry. The mere thought turns my stomach and starts me retching. I hate the bloody stuff with a vengeance ... and the bloody stuff hates me too!

The Mecannylad approach to eating is a bit like cricket really !…. there are so many straightforward strokes you can play without getting yourself out with a risky hook shot !!

Been there, done that … can`t be arsed!

With so much time on my hands these days, people expect Mecannylad`s passport to have more visa stamps on it than Carlos the Jackal … and my hard drive to be crammed with more exotic photos than Gary Glitter could shake a hip at.
I can`t be arsed if the truth were known.
Mecannylass reminds me that travel would broaden my mind …. but she never complains, bless her. She fully realises that if my mind was any broader I could be bloody dangerous here in the conservative confines of the Peak District. !

 p.s. Talking about travelling;Mecannylad went to The Moon* last week.
        (*a canny little pub down the road in Stoney Middleton!)

4YEO*

I admit it, Mecannylad can`t text for toffee … and when I do get the odd message from Mecannylass it does feel like I am trying to crack the Da Vinci code!
So she may be able to text the equivalent of 100 words (?) a minute on her Blackberry … but is she aware of the traditional grammatical distinction between good old fashioned real long-hand words like ‘less’ and ‘fewer’ … between ‘uninterested’ and ‘disinterested’ … between ‘infer’ and ‘imply’ etc, etc ?
You see … when push comes to shove … you can`t beat the old school !

 DWYDLIP**
 (* for your eyes only)
 (** don`t wash your dirty linen in public)

Ernie … and he drove the fastest milk cart in the west.

Like almost everyone else it would be so much easier I suppose to buy our household milk supplies in those handy 4 litre plastic cartons from a supermarket. 

But Mecannylad believes there is still something quintessentially English in hearing the chinking sound of milk bottles being delivered on your doorstep at the crack of dawn by a happy, whistling milkman … so I have persevered all these years with the inconvenience of having to leave cryptic  notes for extra pintas etc. 

Thinking about it though, our village milkman is far from friendly. He has long since turned into a miserable old fart; in fact if Mecannylad had a head like this grumpy giffer I think I would have it circumcised ! And another thing, adding insult to injury, our particular Ernie is certainly not the fastest milkman in the west either … out of his depth on a wet pavement!

Drugs, alcohol and promiscuity? … Don`t knock `em !!!

Mecannylad has always been one for taking the piss out of the useless pastime of celebrity worship.

Since time immemorial we humans have been naturally disposed to falling at the feet of some god or other … to build pantheons and valhallas in our dreams. 

So notwithstanding a bit of drug taking here, a touch of alcohol there and blatant promiscuity everywhere, can it be such a bad thing then for so many of our impressionable youth of today to be dewy eyed over daft pop singers, thicko footballers and air-headed reality TV stars? 

Surely it keeps them from joining the ranks of their far more dangerous brothers and sisters who fall at the feet of drug free dogmatic zealots, sober militant extremists and celebate fanatical preachers.

Anile Runts & Happy Hikers.

I would say that on balance living here in the heart of the glorious Peak District is nothing other than an endless pleasure. 

Perhaps the only drawback of note are the anile city runts you come across masquerading as day trippers.
These shouldn`t be confused of course with the ageing ghosts from my past - masquerading as happy hikers - who have cottoned on to where Mecannylad lives and now regularly pop-in mid walk to dry their soggy hiking socks infront of my stove … and effect other miscellaneous adjustments to their personage whilst they are at it !
Always nice to see you friends ... but who left their germoloid cream in our bathroom yesterday ?

Two New Year Resolutions for Mecannylad.

The UK has become a country full of pussies who are afraid to say what is really on our mind. So how about Mecannylad towing the line more then; joining this growing army of politically correct softies and biting my tongue as a noble New Year`s Resolution? Not on your nelly !

If keeping my trap shut is a resolution too far for me, others have suggested that I should perhaps resolve to become more active in this Olympic year. Really? To care about my body suggests that Mecannylad ever had a body of note in the first place! Since my youth I have felt nothing but indifference for this useless casing of flesh I inhabit. It could`nt bowl, bat, kick a ball, swim, run fast or dance when it was younger, so what chance has it got now! Indeed whenever it walked into a pub or club it didn`t ever attract lustful glares of desire or even faint sideways glances of interest.

Infact Mecannylad`s body has nothing to recommend it bar its basic function as a fuel cell for my brain and of course a dumping mechanism for my toxins. Mecannylad to turn over a new leaf and become more active in 2012? You are kidding aren`t you!

Mecannylass is not just tone deaf …. I think she`s bloody tone dumb as well !!

Remind me never to agree to Mecannylass hosting a home karaoke party ever again !
Who the hell is this Pixie Lott when she is out of nappies ? 

 Oh my, my, my, Delilah … come back Tom Jones all is forgiven !

It`s only the 1st of January but it`s great to be back to normal already without any of the bloody hassle.

First arguement of the new year over and done with. 
Much to the disgust of Mecannylass Mecannylad has already taken down our Christmas decorations and despatched them gleefully into the loft for another year ......bloody well sick of our place looking like a cross between Santas grotto and an elve`s tacky lap dancing parlour!