All Hallows Eve

Dear me! It’s all so very American! The costumes! The pumpkins! The economy-size tubs of sweets! The legalised thuggery! When I was a kid Mum occasionally used to make toffee apples that’d take your fillings out, and I’d mess about with a bucket of water and an apple. One year I had a witches hat, and I was quite pathetically excited about it. Sigh. Tempus Fugit, and all that. 

Having said all that, I did toy with the idea of dressing Harry all in red, providing him with a small toy trident and standing him appealingly on next-door’s doorstep, whilst I ring the bell and hide.  But I reasoned that since we live in the arse-end of beyond, the Delightful Doctors are our only possible target for the annual demanding-of-money-and-chocolate-with-menaces – so in a couple of years, Harry will most likely be hitting them several times in an evening, with a quick costume change between-times. Ergo, we’d best leave them in peace while we still can.

I eventually managed to acquire a second pumpkin – half the size and twice the price of mine – at 4.50pm this afternoon. Town was Out Of Pumpkins. Hubby was distinctly unenthusiastic about taking up the challenge – oddly, he seemed to think that you were all biased in favour of mine already – but duly stabbed away with a kitchen knife for 20 minutes. I think it’s fair to say that he wasn’t actually expecting to win… but fate has unexpectedly come to his aid, because WordPress are sheepishly admitting that their PollDaddy gadget thingy isn’t currently working. Lucky man.

Hubby’s scary ghost chappy.

Ann’s scary face with rather singed stitches.

This will mean absolutely bugger-all to non-UKers, but I’m grouchily pissed off tonight, as I was rather looking forward to seeing David Attenborough (who is something of a personal deity of mine) on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. I am left with 100 channels of rubbish and a snoring hubby instead.

Dear Aunty Beeb,

I like Wossy. Dock his wages if you must – because, oh my, that was indeed a very brainless set of remarks – but don’t suspend the chap from coming to work! Who will I listen to tomorrow morning? 

Greatly Miffed of Warwickshire.

P.S. Wogan must not be allowed to retire. Or die.

P.P.S My period is trying to start again, a mere 5 days after finishing. I realise that you can do absolutely nothing about this, but I have paid my licence fee, and therefore I expect you to listen.

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10 Responses

  1. While I am annoyed with Wossy and his bouffant pal for being nasty little sniggery school-boys, I am considerably crosser with whatever fluff-for-brains actually passed their idiotery (is that a word?) for broadcast. I mean, there’s a reason these shows are pre-recorded. It’s to make sure the Talent hasn’t got carried away and said something horrible. Why pre-record it if you’re going to broadcast every faux-pas and lapse regardless?

    Anyway.

    Your pumpkin wins. Sorry, Hairy Farmer. But it’s a very NICE ghost.

    I don’t suppose being told his ghost is nice is going to help much on Halloween.

    Your period can join mine in the Naughty Corner for Badly Behaved Hormonal Lapses.

  2. Well, I do find Husband’s good in an unglossy, outsider out kind of way. Yours, on the other hand, is a polished work of art. Which is better? Oh, the eternal arguents that could result…

    Don’t get me started on the BBC thing. I didn’t care much about it until I realised that most of the people who have submitted complaints hadn’t even listened to the original broadcast. Can you really complain if you didn’t know it existed until the Daily Mail told you about it? Grrr.

  3. Empathies on the period.

    Mine has been overstaying it’s welcome, presumably remarking it’s territory, for a good 13 weeks now after a 36 week absence.

    Bloody thing.

    J

  4. I’ll give HF a bonus set of points for original design but yours manages to sneak over the line by a point for creative effort.

    Hope Aunty Beeb has an answer to the period problem. You will share any gems forthcoming, of course?

  5. Hahahahaha I love your final PS. And I think the whole Ross/Brand thing has gotten a bit out of hand. Who cares if people complain AFTER the fact?

    Love the pumpkins!

  6. I liked the five penultimate paragraphs of this post. It was like reading something in Urdu. I am a dumb Yank.

    Husband tried hard. But the plaintive facial expression of that bat suggests it already knew the polling results.

  7. hey – nice pumpkins.
    No idea what you’re talking about otherwise..

  8. Husbands is very good, but, sorry, you win – it’s even worse / better lit up.

    Oh and the beeb thing! I’m with MsPrufrock there were only 2 complaints until the transcript along with irate commentary was in the mail. If the Daily Mail told you to jump off a cliff would you? Yes? Ok! I’m doctoring every DM headline tomorrow. Something along the lines of “The only way to rid our ports of immigrants is to register your distaste by leaping off the white cliffs”.

  9. Pssshhh, you totally win. Tell HH to bring his A game next time. (Although now I feel bad so tell him he’s also got a great many other skills like tractor-wrangling and shutting the gate on the goose pen. He wins at all that.)

    I’m also a dumb Yank who does not speak Urdu. But I wish you the best.

    And tell your blasted period where it can get off. Blech!

  10. Eh, I don’t think what they did was so bad – Sachs’ granddaughter is a grown-up after all. It’d be different if she was younger. If I were Sachs, I’d be less offended that they said they slept with her than the idea that it’s actually possible for someone to want to sleep with Brandt.

    I miss Woss too. Including his Saturday show, even though I hate his music.

    And I used to hate Wogan, but now I love him and his show. I’m a dork.

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