Pastygate or Pastiegate?

You will need to see the earlier post 'Humble Pastie Innocent of all Charges' to answer that one.

My Mate's grandfather was a Cornish Miner. The seagulls used to drive them crazy when they came up to the surface at dinner time to eat their pasties. His grandad used to alternate throwing a bit of pasty up to the most annoying seagull with a piece of carbide which was used to fuel his lamp. Water drips on to the calcium carbide which gives off the inflammable gas acetylene for the lamp to function.

If water did that, you could imagine the effect of the stomach contents of the gull on the stuff. According to my mate the seagull got about 20 yards away before it exploded. The other gulls got the message and went off to annoy the emmets.

Over the years the gulls developed a taste for cream teas with the decline of the tin mining industry and the explosion (Sorry about that) of tourism. I hear these days they are plaguing the Coronary Unit of Treliske Hospital at Truro.

Please note that this post was published after midday so there is no doubting the veracity of the tale, not that I am encouraging this sort of behaviour at all as I am a firm supporter of the RSPB.

I couldn't get a picture of a seagull, as there doesn't seem to be any around since I installed the owl (pictured) that Mr Cameron asked me to trial in my garden. In the last COBRA meeting they came up with the idea of putting them all over London to prevent the pigeons from shitting on the Olympic visitors from a great height like Seb and the LOWLIFE Committee have on the great Ticketless British Public. I'd better let them know of the owl's success as their alternative idea was to promote the pigeon pie over the Cornish Pastie as a local delicacy that doesn't need transporting from Cornwall now there's no petrol left.

You read it here first

Go through the archive, if you don't believe it. Pasties got a mention in February, so did a petrol mower. What a pity I didn't feature George Galloway as we all would have made a fortune at his price of winning the seat at 200-1. He did get a sort of mention in 'French and Spanish Cricket for Beginners' in a mix-up between 'Peter and the Dyke', not very appealing Dutch camper vans and Dick Whittington. I won't reproduce the whole sentence as it's still early spring, but the words 'Dick, finger and pussy' combined to raise their ugly heads in Chapter 4. The Sweet Pea? If you are not due to flower until May and you were to emerge in March then you deserve to be highlighted, unlike the purple sprouting broccoli and the rhubarb which just get eaten.

I'm pleased about the defib adverts. Click on to save a life maybe. Her Royal Highness has not yet responded to my e-mail. I did phone Radio 5 Live about it making the point that these defibs should be available to all. The researcher listened and talked in an engaging fashion before stunning me by saying that she had watched her husband die of a heart attack in front of her. That sort of thing shuts an ignorant Semi-ranter like me well and truly up, and after a few of my apologetic mumblings the phone line fortunately was cut off, perhaps because it was Budget Day and there were more Detached ranters in the phone queue, waiting to complain about Stamp Duty.

On 'You and Yours' this week they covered Defibs and whether they should be in all schools. The same arguments were being made. It was good to hear the coverage. There are some brave and dedicated people who despite suffering great personal loss are working hard to get these life savers to become more widely available. However, even though they seem to be attracting great support, one gets the feeling they too are banging their heads against a brick wall. Perhaps if the BBC change the name of their Radio 4 programme to 'One and One's' the Queen may take notice of what is being asked of her by her subjects. Indeed the Duke of Edinburgh could show what a Diamond Geezer could do after a life saving op as part of an opportunity of a lifetime.

Plumbing the Depths

Two Camerons plumbed the depths this weekend. JC descended into The Mariana Trench, Greasy DC regurgitated the Tory Party Stench. JC was reported as being rather stiff from being in a cramped position for such a time. Greasy DC sounded like a dick as he tried to bullshit his way out of the mire.

Tory Sleaze is the dogshit of our country's politics. Like dogshit it deserves its bad press. I've seen naturalists orgasm as they pulled badger crap apart. I've been on field trips where the guides have tried to persuade me of the significance to the Universe of cow pats. TV gardeners wax lyrical about the powers of horse manure. I own a T-Shirt with bird droppings emblazoned across it. I've heard people celebrate their good fortune when a seagull crapped all over them. In contrast they go bonkers if they step on dog shit even though they are guana white in bird mess.

Because of present day Health and Safety regulations the naturalists are no longer allowed to handle badger droppings. In order to study the stomach contents of the animals to investigate their feeding habits the researchers now set up a tape recorder by their sets at night to play Greasy DC political speeches, returning in the morning to pick through what the badgers had thrown up.

Greasy DC has done a bit of a cull on my year group. The Sunday Times, the paper that provided the laxative for Greasy DC's outpourings, reckoned that 700,000 of my classmates will be worst hit by his chancellor's attack on pensioners. It's enough to make you marry an aussie cricketer.

A letter to the Queen's Collection sent Sunday

Good afternoon,

The tragic events at White Hart Lane yesterday could have been even more devastating if the life saving defibrillator had not been available. I hesitate to contact you so soon while Fabrice Muamba fights for his life. However the sooner defibrillators are more widely available to the ordinary person the better. I'm not a Royalist but I am aware of the Diamond Jubilee and its potential in bringing the British people together at a time of great difficulty for the ordinary person. I need to say that not all who have heart problems will have access to a helicopter and some may be additionally concerned with what they see as a potential threat to the NHS.

I am not trying to make a political point. What I am saying can be illustrated by my activities as a member of Gravesend Cricket Club. I attend a Cricket Club Colts training session each week. Our Cricket Club has at least 100 youngsters playing football on the ground on a Sunday morning to raise funds. I attend nets for our 5th team at NW Kent College on a Wednesday evening, and in the summer I play cricket on a weekend. Such and similar activities would be pursued by millions of people throughout the country. For those not in Premier or 1st Class Clubs who suffer a similar fate to Mr Muamba, what would be their chance of survival without a defibrillator being immediately available? Probably as much chance as those five unfortunate horses when they fell at the Cheltenham Festival.

Some people in Football crowds are often rightly criticised for the way that they behave. Every now and then, however, there is a moment when they are able to react in a dignified and respectful way. The fans and media certainly managed this yesterday. With Hillsborough again in the news for the smearing of football fans, the forthcoming Olympics with people feeling discouraged by the ticketing fiasco, and a general feeling of unfairness amongst your subjects now is the time for a gift to your people. This is not a time for 'Spin', it is a time for a reaction to an event which has touched the heart of the country, which could become a legacy for you.

If you do not have direct access to the necessary pot of gold to enable a greater countrywide distribution and hence immediate availability of appropriate defibrillators, you may have the attention of those that do. No doubt you are unaware of my blog www.frenchandaussiecricket.blogspot.com so you may not have been reminded recently of the Confucius saying 'Pot of Gold at end of Rainbow not available to all. Only to those who say 'After You.'

Thank you for your time

Best wishes

The letter was sent to the Queen's Collection as I didn't have Her Majesty's direct E-Mail. I haven't received a response yet so with the photograph at the top of the blog I am giving them an opportunity to do something for the Art World and the Dead, as this may be a better option for them to pursue rather than saving commoners' lives.

Feel free to step up to the mark yourself in either area. Be quick on the first one as I hear the cost of the defibs could be rising with the Water Companies considering taking over both the NHS and the Queen's Highway. I hear that the plan is to drain the rivers and replace them with roads except for the Thames Estuary which will become a runway.



Mike Kelleher

Ruby Wednesday

Apologies for no posts lately. I haven't been my usual 110% which is 100% in old money.

Before I start I'd like to pass my condolences to Mervyn Davies' family. I was once introduced to him not long after his heyday in The Glamorgan Arms Pontardulais (sic) by my brother. Mervyn stood up to shake hands towering over me, but still looked me in the eye with the air of the professional but also of a decent man. May he rest in peace.

To explain the accompanying photograph. As boffins will know, last ditch attempts by those who still get TMS on Long Wave to negate the digitalisation of the airways are in full swing. By the time the backlog of ditching analogue catches up with Kent, my sweet pea aerial (pod patent pending) will be tuning into Aggers & co. in Sri Lanka.

Have a last look at the garden hose as this will soon be a thing of the past. Despite my water bill increasing from £690 odd in 2011 to £750 odd this year, and a massive increase in the number of wind farms operating offshore, there has been no equivalent increase in the rate of evaporation of water from the sea, just hot air from the companies. If there has been, it has been transported elsewhere by the not very fair trade winds, leaving us in the South East high and dry and the companies out of their depth.

I know some people don't like Mondays but in my heyday I didn't like playing cricket on Sundays. Our club's Sunday 2nds had a catholic fixture list with several games on some big club pitches. It wasn't league so it was my sort of cricket. Because I didn't like Mondays either I needed a day of vegetation to cope with them. Hence I didn't put my name forward for selection.

I should have negotiated a four day week with Edward Heath so that I could have started work on a Tuesday. Some smart ass will now tell me that Tuesday will become the new Monday, and everybody will feel the same about Tuesdays as they do about Mondays. I don't agree. I've tried to imagine Melanie singing 'Ruby Wednesday', but it doesn't have the same ring to it.

Not that it really matters as our club doesn't play matches on a Monday. There is a Wednesday XI which might be forced in the present climate to play its games on a Thursday. I've got nothing against Thursdays unlike our Local Education Authority which obviously doesn't like Maundys or Thursdays as they made us work on a Maundy Thursday, no doubt to save their pennies and the Queen's shilling. It must be working as our Council Tax only went up by about eight quid which is a drop in the ocean compared to the Monopoly Board money of the water companies.

I'd like to be serious and get something off my Community Chest about the rather premature, in my opinion, statement by American Defence Lawyers while families or what is left of them are still grieving. But I won't as I don't want to be sent to gaol, with a good Chance of getting myself extradited, eh Mr Cameron?

Rude Tubes on BBC Radio4

At 2.28pm today on BBC Radio 4 the word 'Asshole' was to be heard. It was not being used to describe Boris re. his Island nor Seb for continuing to defend the indefensible and reprehensible LOWLIFE ticket touts. Maybe there is a chance of my book being chosen for 'A Book at Bedtime', without the need for dramatic cuts. Even the following passage might survive.

A previous head teacher wanted to tap my brains to select a couple of outstanding scientists whose contributions like Newton's were of world renown. As the school was about to go Grant Maintained, a sort of first step to privatization, it was felt by the powers that be that the Chemistry and the Physics Labs should be called after distinguished people of science.

The Science Department gave the matter some serious thought. Two names came to mind. My Physics colleague had always been impressed by the Kundt's Dust Tube Experiment with which the speed of sound can be calculated. In Chemistry I loved those bottles of Wanklyn's Soap Solution that smelled of meths and kept the glassware crystal clean before dishwashers became commonplace.

We sent back our suggestions of the 'Kundt's Laboratory' and the 'Wanklyn Laboratory' which seemed in the opinion of the Science Department to both honour effective and practical scientists as well as reflect the Senior Management of the school. I think the labs are still without names.

The Physics of Marital Guidance

5th Team nets tonight where my reaction to action will come under strain. In the physics text books of yesteryear there was always a cartoon picture to illustrate reaction and action being equal and opposite. It inevitably showed some poor matchstick man stepping off a boat with an ever increasing length of stride pushing the boat back as he attempted to step forward onto the quay, until he did the splits and dipped his balls German Officer style into the Turpentine or Serpentine or into whichever river it was.

As BBC Radio 4 are promoting Science more these days I have no hesitation in quoting from that font of information regarding the re-Kindling of relationships, The E-Book 'French and Spanish Cricket for Beginners', downloadable from Amazon.co.uk, but not as yet featured on 'A Book at Bedtime'.

Every couple has their moment and this could be yours. If your last inklings for Science were first scrambled and then laid low by having to listen to Professor Heinz Wolfe and his pack talk what seemed to me to be bollocks, pronounced 'bow locks' during 'The Great Egg Race' on TV, then read on.

Disadvantaged couples who can string only one or two theories together should feel free to go hypo without the need for a thesis. There are loads of principles and laws that can prevent studious couples from enrolling onto a collision course by offering a path of restitution, thus avoiding the need for a speedy separation, so long as the right approach is followed.

Physics can be blunt, but that may be necessary to avoid leaving couples in a state of flux. Strain, stress, pressures, sensitivity, reflection, attraction and repulsion, excesses, coils, potential differences, emissions and forced vibrations are all in your face, possibly resulting in Harmonic Motions being anything but Simple.

Fleming's Left Hand Rule can help point you in the right direction. If you are like the good lady wife who can't tell right from left he also has a Right Hand Rule. If Couples adhere to these principles there should be a reduction in the total strains, stresses and and pressures without disturbing sensitivities in about seven days in accordance with Dalton's Weekly Law of Partial Pressures.