IF ONLY YOUR LEFT LEG WAS CHRISTMAS
If only your left leg was Christmas
And your right leg was New Year’s Day
Then I could devote all of my time
To visiting you between the holidays
WE HAVE THE SAME CHRISTMAS WINE
We have the same Christmas wine
Every year on Christmas day
“I don't want any Brussels sprouts”
The family all shrilly say
I WENT OUT CHRISTMAS SHOPPING
I went out Christmas shopping
But I didn’t get very far
Before I got caught shoplifting
As I stole an advent calendar
The shopkeeper had me arrested
Because of my larcenous ways
And for stealing an advent calendar
I got twenty five days
CRACKERS, FRUITCAKE AND NUTS
Crackers, fruitcake and nuts
They mean Christmas to me
Although to be honest, they
Could also describe my family
WHEN SANTA RETURNED HOME
When Santa returned home
To have his tea
His wife was there
Waiting apprehensively
“There was a phone call for you”
Said Mrs. C
“It was a little garbled
And made no sense to me
Something about Saville
And Operation Yewtree”
CHRISTMAS DAY JUST AFTER LUNCH
Christmas day just after Lunch
My family, being a fun loving bunch
Engage enthusiastically one and all
In parlour games to enthral
At first the alcohol fuelled the fun
And a good time was had by everyone
However as the day wore on
With all self-control long gone
The games degenerate into farce
As an opponent is knocked on his arse
And the afternoon ends in tears
As it has done across the years
And dad makes his annual decree
“Games are forthwith banned” said he
THE YOUNG ELF EDUCATIONALISTS
The young Elf Educationalists
Have discovered an alarming theme
Those who struggle to learn the Elf-abet
Will in later life suffer low Elf esteem
NOVELTY TREE CHOCOLATES
When we were kids,
Before we went to bed,
My brothers and me
Were allowed a pick
A novelty chocolate
Off the Christmas tree
RED BIKE
One Christmas
I got a big Red Bike
With white mudguards
All new and shiny like
But alas it was gone
Again on Boxing Day
It belonged to the post office
So the police took it away
OLIVE THE 10TH REINDEER
Olive the other reindeer,
Used to laugh and call him names
She never let poor Rudolph
Join in any reindeer games
So he planted drugs in her stall
And got her chucked off the team
SO YOU THINK THAT YOU ARE CLAUSTROPHOBIC
So you think that you are Claustrophobic
Well I doubt that is a phobia of yours
As I should tell you that Claustrophobia
Is definitely not a fear of Santa Claus
Tuesday 3 December 2013
A Little Bit Of Humour # 35
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 1
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour, are not dead
But are doing a Piano cabaret act
On a cruise ship instead
NO DOMESTIC GODDESS
I am not by any means
A domestic goddess
To be perfectly honest
My house is a bloody mess
So by way of camouflaging
My domestic disgrace
I always keep on display
Above the fireplace
Get well soon cards
Displayed to be seen
By guests who think
I’ve been too ill to clean
WE HAD ANOTHER TRIVIA QUIZ
We had a Trivia quiz at the pub last night
And I got most of the questions right
But the final question always tells
“Name two things commonly found in cells?”
It appears that a Manc and Scouser
Was not the correct answer
SMOKING KILLS
Smoking kills
Of that there is no doubt
Especially if my wife
Were to find out
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 2
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour of their demise
Are presenting shows as Ant and Dec
In their most cunning disguise
SLUMBER WARNING
There is a limit to how early
You might go to your repose
Or you might end up retiring
Before you actually arose
MY CRAZY BROTHER IN LAW
My crazy brother in law
Has had a penis extension
Now visitors approach his
House with real apprehension
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 3
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour are not deceased
But are locked away in Broadmoor
And will never be released
THE CROWD WENT WILD
The crowd went wild
And the opposition reeled
As the Chicago Bugs
Won again at Wriggly Field
I WAS THROWN OUT OF A CLOTHING SHOP
I was thrown out of a clothing shop
It was one of the Muslim outlets
All I did was to ask if I could look
At one of their bomber jacket
YOU ARE TRULY MIDDLE AGED
You are truly middle aged
When your twilight is dawning
And you still believe you will
Feel better in the morning
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 4
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour did not snuff it
They’re living in a bedsit in Merseyside
Where they have to rough it
THE DIARY OF A VIRGIN
The diary of a Virgin
Is a very short read
As there are within
No entries indeed
LAST NIGHT I HAD FOR MY TEA
Last night I had for my tea
A delicious beef stew
With dumplings, better known
As my wife Sue
IN GEORGE CLOONEY’S LATEST ROLE
In George Clooney’s latest role
He’s to play the part of Kevan
A habitual paedophile
And it’s called "Oh, She's Eleven?"
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour, are not dead
But are doing a Piano cabaret act
On a cruise ship instead
NO DOMESTIC GODDESS
I am not by any means
A domestic goddess
To be perfectly honest
My house is a bloody mess
So by way of camouflaging
My domestic disgrace
I always keep on display
Above the fireplace
Get well soon cards
Displayed to be seen
By guests who think
I’ve been too ill to clean
WE HAD ANOTHER TRIVIA QUIZ
We had a Trivia quiz at the pub last night
And I got most of the questions right
But the final question always tells
“Name two things commonly found in cells?”
It appears that a Manc and Scouser
Was not the correct answer
SMOKING KILLS
Smoking kills
Of that there is no doubt
Especially if my wife
Were to find out
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 2
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour of their demise
Are presenting shows as Ant and Dec
In their most cunning disguise
SLUMBER WARNING
There is a limit to how early
You might go to your repose
Or you might end up retiring
Before you actually arose
MY CRAZY BROTHER IN LAW
My crazy brother in law
Has had a penis extension
Now visitors approach his
House with real apprehension
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 3
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour are not deceased
But are locked away in Broadmoor
And will never be released
THE CROWD WENT WILD
The crowd went wild
And the opposition reeled
As the Chicago Bugs
Won again at Wriggly Field
I WAS THROWN OUT OF A CLOTHING SHOP
I was thrown out of a clothing shop
It was one of the Muslim outlets
All I did was to ask if I could look
At one of their bomber jacket
YOU ARE TRULY MIDDLE AGED
You are truly middle aged
When your twilight is dawning
And you still believe you will
Feel better in the morning
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN # 4
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Contrary to the rumour did not snuff it
They’re living in a bedsit in Merseyside
Where they have to rough it
THE DIARY OF A VIRGIN
The diary of a Virgin
Is a very short read
As there are within
No entries indeed
LAST NIGHT I HAD FOR MY TEA
Last night I had for my tea
A delicious beef stew
With dumplings, better known
As my wife Sue
IN GEORGE CLOONEY’S LATEST ROLE
In George Clooney’s latest role
He’s to play the part of Kevan
A habitual paedophile
And it’s called "Oh, She's Eleven?"
Me And My Brother – On Thin Ice
My brother was five years older than me and as a result from the time I was five years old he looked upon me as something of a burden.
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.
It was a Saturday morning in early January 1963 when the country was in the grip of the big freeze.
Apart from the weather it was an average Saturday, my Dad was a Coldstream Guard and was on duty, my sisters were upstairs fighting over who’s turn it was to get in the bathroom, my mum was at the sink washing up and me and my brother were still sitting at the breakfast table tucking into a second bowl of cereal.
Just as I was finishing the last mouthful there was a loud knock on the front door.
“Get that Peter” Mum called
“Ok he said and he was gone about five minutes
“Who was it?” mum asked
“Colin and John” he answered “they’re going sledging and want me to go too”
“I see” mum said without turning around
“Can I go?” Peter asked hopefully
“Yes but take your brother with you” she replied
“Oh mum” he moaned “do I have too?”
“Yes” she said sternly looking up from her task for the first time.
“But he’s a baby” Peter protested
“I’m not a baby” I shouted “I’m six”
“Yes you are” Peter barked at me
“Well if he doesn’t go” mum snapped “you don’t go”
“Oh mum” he protested “That’s not fair”
“Your choice” mum said without looking up from the sink
“Ok” Peter mumbled resignedly
“Hooray” I yelled and ran to the coat cupboard and donned my duffel coat and wellies.
Apart from the duffel coat I also had to wear gloves and a grey knitted balaclava helmet, which was obligatory headgear for children at that time.
Peter was similarly equipped but he removed his balaclava once we were out of sight of the house.
“Look after your brother” Mum said as she followed us to the door
“Alright Mum I will” I said and giggled
“Have fun you two” she said and laughed “don’t do anything silly”
“Bye” I said and ran after Peter
“And stay away from the canal” She shouted just before she closed the door.
It was a cold grey day and there had been a fresh fall of snow overnight which is why sledging had been suggested.
Colin and John were waiting for us on the corner with the sledge.
“Come on Pete” Colin shouted
“Alright we’re coming” Peter replied “Sorry Col but I had to bring the runt”
“Oi” I protested
“Bad luck” Colin said “I had to bring mine as well”
And he patted John on the head.
“Get off” John said and gave his brother a shove.
He was only a couple of year’s young than Colin but unlike me John was not considered a burden by his brother.
They had a brilliant sledge, bright red with a varnished seat.
They always had nice stuff, their Dad was an officer in the Grenadier Guards.
He didn’t really like his boys playing with the progeny of the lower ranks but they did anyway.
We had the snow and a wizard sledge but we trudged around for ages searching for a good place.
It wasn’t that there was a shortage of hills in the small corner of Surrey that was Pirbright.
The problem was however finding one that wasn’t covered in Trees, Ferns and Bracken, or that terminated on a road or railway lines.
After about an hour we struck lucky when we found an old disused gravel pit which had a long straight slope that ended in a thick accumulation of snow.
We had a brilliant time and we sledged until we were utterly exhausted when we began the long trudge home which was an hour away.
“Let’s take a short cut across the canal” Colin suggested
“What on the ice?” John asked
“Yes” he replied “it’ll save us time”
“We’re not allowed” I said
“Shut up baby” Peter snapped
“Is the ice thick enough?” John asked cautiously
“We’ll soon find out once you stand on it” Colin said
“Why me?” John asked with alarm
“Because I said” Colin replied
“Well I’m not going first” John stated adamantly
After a few minutes of arguing between the brothers Peter said
“For God’s sake I’ll go”
“Good man Pete” Colin said as Peter gingerly inched his way onto the ice.
Once it was apparent that it was safe Colin followed suit then me and finally John.
“This is great let’s go down the canal to the footbridge” Peter suggested and we all slipped and slid our way the half mile or so to the footbridge.
When we got there I thought it was quite a steep bank up to the tow path for a kid my size so I decided to go the other side of the bridge where I thought it would be easier for me to climb up.
When he saw what I was doing John shouted
“Don’t go under there!”
“It’s ok” I replied “I can climb up easier down here”
“That’s not what I mean” John shouted
The shout attracted Peter’s attention and he said
“Listen to John”
“Come over here and we’ll help you out” Colin suggested
“It’s all right” I insisted “I can manage”
Then all three of them shouted in unison
“Don’t go under the bridge”
“Its ok I’m not a bab…” I began as the ice gave way beneath me and I sank like a stone.
I went straight to the bottom and then luckily bobbed straight back up and through the same hole I’d fallen through seconds before.
When I reached the surface I took in a huge breath, not because I’d been deprived of oxygen but rather more because the water was freezing.
All three of them were by the hole when I surfaced and quickly pulled me out of the icy water.
“That’s why we said “Don’t go under the bridge”” Peter said
I didn’t reply as my teeth were chattering too much so I just nodded.
Every stitch of clothing was soaked through and both of my wellies were full to the brim with icy water.
Once they knew I was unharmed the laughter began and when I squelched to the bank and water exuded from my boots with each step they were in hysterics and rolling around on the ice.
I sat on the ice and emptied each welly in turn and the cascade of water was greeted with fresh peals of laughter.
“What are we going to tell mum?” I asked soberly which silenced Peter in an instant.
“Oh bloody hell” he said “She’ll kill me”
The three of them helped me up the bank and we began to slog up the wooded hillside in the general direction of home while they all suggested excuses for why I was sopping wet.
“Can’t you just tell the truth?” Colin said
“Are you kidding?” Peter replied “We were told not to go near the canal”
“She’d be really mad” I added
“That’s an understatement” Peter corrected me “I wouldn’t be allowed out again until the cricket season”
“How about a car driving through a puddle and splashing him?” John offered
“That won’t work” Colin retorted
“Why not?” john asked
“Well Einstein if a car drove through a puddle how come Paul is the only one that got wet?”
“I hadn’t thought of that” John admitted
“Whereas he could have fallen in the puddle” Colin suggested
“Look at him” Peter said “Does it look like he fell in a puddle?”
All three of them turned to look at me as I squelched along in their wake.
“What?” I said in response
“We’re trying to account for why you look like that” Peter said
“Can’t we just say I fell in a ditch?”
When we got back to Slade Road we said goodbye to Colin and John on the corner and with a sense of foreboding trudged the last few yards to the house.
Once inside we kicked of our wellies and hung up our coats in the cupboard.
“Is that you boys?” Mum called from the kitchen
“Yes mum” Peter replied
“Did you have fun?” she asked
“Yes it was great” I answered
Then Peter ushered me up the stairs as Mum came out of the kitchen.
“You must be perished” she said “I’ll run you a bath”
“I’ll do it mum” Peter said
“Oh alright darling I’ll get on with tea then” and she returned to the kitchen.
I got in the bath first and while I was in there Peter snuck my wet clothes into the airing cupboard to dry them off a bit.
We were both on the landing ready to go down and feeling rather pleased with our management of the situation when she called up the stairs
“Why is Paul’s coat soaking wet?”
And without pausing to take a breath Peter replied
“He fell in a ditch on the way home”
“How did that happen” she asked
“Colin, John and me all jumped over the ditch and then Paul tried and fell in” Peter replied and we held our breaths until mum said
“That’s typical of the Clumsy so and so”
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.
It was a Saturday morning in early January 1963 when the country was in the grip of the big freeze.
Apart from the weather it was an average Saturday, my Dad was a Coldstream Guard and was on duty, my sisters were upstairs fighting over who’s turn it was to get in the bathroom, my mum was at the sink washing up and me and my brother were still sitting at the breakfast table tucking into a second bowl of cereal.
Just as I was finishing the last mouthful there was a loud knock on the front door.
“Get that Peter” Mum called
“Ok he said and he was gone about five minutes
“Who was it?” mum asked
“Colin and John” he answered “they’re going sledging and want me to go too”
“I see” mum said without turning around
“Can I go?” Peter asked hopefully
“Yes but take your brother with you” she replied
“Oh mum” he moaned “do I have too?”
“Yes” she said sternly looking up from her task for the first time.
“But he’s a baby” Peter protested
“I’m not a baby” I shouted “I’m six”
“Yes you are” Peter barked at me
“Well if he doesn’t go” mum snapped “you don’t go”
“Oh mum” he protested “That’s not fair”
“Your choice” mum said without looking up from the sink
“Ok” Peter mumbled resignedly
“Hooray” I yelled and ran to the coat cupboard and donned my duffel coat and wellies.
Apart from the duffel coat I also had to wear gloves and a grey knitted balaclava helmet, which was obligatory headgear for children at that time.
Peter was similarly equipped but he removed his balaclava once we were out of sight of the house.
“Look after your brother” Mum said as she followed us to the door
“Alright Mum I will” I said and giggled
“Have fun you two” she said and laughed “don’t do anything silly”
“Bye” I said and ran after Peter
“And stay away from the canal” She shouted just before she closed the door.
It was a cold grey day and there had been a fresh fall of snow overnight which is why sledging had been suggested.
Colin and John were waiting for us on the corner with the sledge.
“Come on Pete” Colin shouted
“Alright we’re coming” Peter replied “Sorry Col but I had to bring the runt”
“Oi” I protested
“Bad luck” Colin said “I had to bring mine as well”
And he patted John on the head.
“Get off” John said and gave his brother a shove.
He was only a couple of year’s young than Colin but unlike me John was not considered a burden by his brother.
They had a brilliant sledge, bright red with a varnished seat.
They always had nice stuff, their Dad was an officer in the Grenadier Guards.
He didn’t really like his boys playing with the progeny of the lower ranks but they did anyway.
We had the snow and a wizard sledge but we trudged around for ages searching for a good place.
It wasn’t that there was a shortage of hills in the small corner of Surrey that was Pirbright.
The problem was however finding one that wasn’t covered in Trees, Ferns and Bracken, or that terminated on a road or railway lines.
After about an hour we struck lucky when we found an old disused gravel pit which had a long straight slope that ended in a thick accumulation of snow.
We had a brilliant time and we sledged until we were utterly exhausted when we began the long trudge home which was an hour away.
“Let’s take a short cut across the canal” Colin suggested
“What on the ice?” John asked
“Yes” he replied “it’ll save us time”
“We’re not allowed” I said
“Shut up baby” Peter snapped
“Is the ice thick enough?” John asked cautiously
“We’ll soon find out once you stand on it” Colin said
“Why me?” John asked with alarm
“Because I said” Colin replied
“Well I’m not going first” John stated adamantly
After a few minutes of arguing between the brothers Peter said
“For God’s sake I’ll go”
“Good man Pete” Colin said as Peter gingerly inched his way onto the ice.
Once it was apparent that it was safe Colin followed suit then me and finally John.
“This is great let’s go down the canal to the footbridge” Peter suggested and we all slipped and slid our way the half mile or so to the footbridge.
When we got there I thought it was quite a steep bank up to the tow path for a kid my size so I decided to go the other side of the bridge where I thought it would be easier for me to climb up.
When he saw what I was doing John shouted
“Don’t go under there!”
“It’s ok” I replied “I can climb up easier down here”
“That’s not what I mean” John shouted
The shout attracted Peter’s attention and he said
“Listen to John”
“Come over here and we’ll help you out” Colin suggested
“It’s all right” I insisted “I can manage”
Then all three of them shouted in unison
“Don’t go under the bridge”
“Its ok I’m not a bab…” I began as the ice gave way beneath me and I sank like a stone.
I went straight to the bottom and then luckily bobbed straight back up and through the same hole I’d fallen through seconds before.
When I reached the surface I took in a huge breath, not because I’d been deprived of oxygen but rather more because the water was freezing.
All three of them were by the hole when I surfaced and quickly pulled me out of the icy water.
“That’s why we said “Don’t go under the bridge”” Peter said
I didn’t reply as my teeth were chattering too much so I just nodded.
Every stitch of clothing was soaked through and both of my wellies were full to the brim with icy water.
Once they knew I was unharmed the laughter began and when I squelched to the bank and water exuded from my boots with each step they were in hysterics and rolling around on the ice.
I sat on the ice and emptied each welly in turn and the cascade of water was greeted with fresh peals of laughter.
“What are we going to tell mum?” I asked soberly which silenced Peter in an instant.
“Oh bloody hell” he said “She’ll kill me”
The three of them helped me up the bank and we began to slog up the wooded hillside in the general direction of home while they all suggested excuses for why I was sopping wet.
“Can’t you just tell the truth?” Colin said
“Are you kidding?” Peter replied “We were told not to go near the canal”
“She’d be really mad” I added
“That’s an understatement” Peter corrected me “I wouldn’t be allowed out again until the cricket season”
“How about a car driving through a puddle and splashing him?” John offered
“That won’t work” Colin retorted
“Why not?” john asked
“Well Einstein if a car drove through a puddle how come Paul is the only one that got wet?”
“I hadn’t thought of that” John admitted
“Whereas he could have fallen in the puddle” Colin suggested
“Look at him” Peter said “Does it look like he fell in a puddle?”
All three of them turned to look at me as I squelched along in their wake.
“What?” I said in response
“We’re trying to account for why you look like that” Peter said
“Can’t we just say I fell in a ditch?”
When we got back to Slade Road we said goodbye to Colin and John on the corner and with a sense of foreboding trudged the last few yards to the house.
Once inside we kicked of our wellies and hung up our coats in the cupboard.
“Is that you boys?” Mum called from the kitchen
“Yes mum” Peter replied
“Did you have fun?” she asked
“Yes it was great” I answered
Then Peter ushered me up the stairs as Mum came out of the kitchen.
“You must be perished” she said “I’ll run you a bath”
“I’ll do it mum” Peter said
“Oh alright darling I’ll get on with tea then” and she returned to the kitchen.
I got in the bath first and while I was in there Peter snuck my wet clothes into the airing cupboard to dry them off a bit.
We were both on the landing ready to go down and feeling rather pleased with our management of the situation when she called up the stairs
“Why is Paul’s coat soaking wet?”
And without pausing to take a breath Peter replied
“He fell in a ditch on the way home”
“How did that happen” she asked
“Colin, John and me all jumped over the ditch and then Paul tried and fell in” Peter replied and we held our breaths until mum said
“That’s typical of the Clumsy so and so”
Me And My Brother – Hunting For Christmas
My brother was five years older than me and as a result from the time I was five years old he looked upon me as something of a burden.
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.
But it wasn’t just outside babysitting Peter had to do, he was often “lumbered” as he would put it, with looking after me at home.
It was on one such occasion in 1964 when I was 8 and Peter was 13.
I remember the day vividly because it was the day my loving brother, five years my senior cast a doubt over the existence of Father Christmas.
My Dad had left the army the previous year and we were then living in the village of Abbotts Ripton in Cambridgeshire where he was chauffeur to the 3rd Baron de Ramsey.
We lived in a quaint “chocolate box” thatched cottage on the edge of the Estate.
Due to some extremely wet weather we were confined to barracks while Mum and dad went shopping in Huntingdon with the gamekeeper and his wife.
There had been the usual fruitless exchange between Peter and Mum.
“Can we go out?” he asked
“Of course not” she replied “it’s absolutely tipping down, you silly boy”
“Boring” he retorted
Mum just tutted and closed the front door behind her.
“Oh great” He cursed “stuck indoors on a Saturday with you and nothing to do”
To put things into perspective we had no computers or video games and there were only two TV channels and they had a limited schedule.
“What are we going to do now?” Peter said and flopped down on the sofa
“We can do a jigsaw” I suggested
“Nah” he replied
“We could play cards” I offered
“Like what?” he queried
“Snap” I said happily
Peter shook his head
“Fish?”
“Brilliant” Peter responded “not only am I stuck indoors on a Saturday but I’m doing it with a baby”
Undaunted I pressed on
“Ludo then, you like Ludo”
“Oh God” he said and buried his face in a cushion
“Snakes and ladders” I said in desperation
“Nah” he said and then he emerged from the cushion and continued “I’ve got a better idea”
“What?” I asked hoping we might finally do something
“Let’s find the presents” he said
“What presents?” I asked
“The Christmas presents” Peter replied
“Huh?” I responded
“The Christmas presents, dummy” he repeated
“I don’t understand” I said
“We’re going to look for our Christmas presents” Peter said
“I still don’t understand” I said confused “it’s not Christmas yet”
Peter had got up and stood by the door
“How can we have presents when Father Christmas hasn’t been yet?”
“God you’re more of a baby than I thought” Peter said with contempt
“You actually still believe in Father Christmas” he added scornfully and laughed
“Shut up” I screamed
“There is no father Christmas you dummy” Peter responded
“Mum and Dad buy all the presents, and put them in our pillow cases”
“No they don’t” I shouted and ran past him and out of the room crying,
This just made him laugh even more.
I just kept running and went upstairs and onto my bed.
I don’t know how long I lay on my bed crying but when I emerged I found Peter carrying a step ladder up the narrow staircase clearly still engaged on his great Christmas present hunt.
“What are you doing?” I asked wiping my eyes on my sleeve
“I’ve looked everywhere except for the loft” he replied panting hard
I refrained from pointing out the reason why he hadn’t found anything and elected instead to watching him struggle with setting the stepladder up and climbing up.
I did laugh when he banged his on the loft hatch but he responded with a glare.
Once he’d disappeared through the hatch I ventured gingerly up the steps.
“Aha” Peter exclaimed and my heart sank
“What is it?” I asked fearing the answer
“I’ve found them” Peter said as his head appeared through the hatch.
“Oh” I responded weakly as his head withdrew much like a tortoise retreating into its shell
“Do you want to know what you’re getting?” he shouted
“No” I shouted back “Don’t tell me”
“Are you sure?” he taunted me
I hesitated, though I didn’t want to know what was in the loft I did want to know something.
“Just tell me if there’s a Fireball XL5?” I said
Fireball XL5 was my favourite program and having my own rocket was the one thing I wanted most in all the world, all the kids at school were talking about it, and I wanted one.
It was the one and only thing I had asked for in my letter to Father Christmas.
“No there isn’t” he replied “and there’s no Walkie Talkies either”
The Radios were the one present Peter had asked for though he would never have admitted that he’d written to Santa.
He spent the next hour sulkily playing Ludo with me until Mum and Dad came home.
I was in a much better mood because in my naivety I took the absence of the rocket in the loft to mean that Father Christmas would be bringing it.
In the days following the present hunt I was troubled by the devastating news that Father Christmas might not exist but I made sure Peter didn’t know how upset I was.
But despite the doubts that now filled my head, on Christmas Eve that year I went to bed with all the usual expectations and having gone through the usual rituals.
Putting out by the fireplace, milk and cookies for Father Christmas and a carrot for the reindeer and then laying out the pillow case on the foot of my bed.
And as I lay snuggled down in bed I thought that it didn’t really matter, it was still fun and there would still be presents in the morning.
Well that’s what I told myself.
It was still dark when I stirred the next morning although I didn’t know what time it was.
I waited for my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness but I couldn’t make out anything.
Then I stretched my legs down as far as they would go and whoopee the presents were there.
I couldn’t put the light on incase it was too early, we had been warned about the consequences of getting up too early, so I had to quietly slip out of bed and onto the floor where I reached beneath my bed until I found my torch.
Well when I say it was my torch, it was actually Peters and I had sneaked into his room and stole it from under his bed while he was in the bathroom.
I switched it on and pointed it at the end of the bed.
“Wow” I said as the torch light fell on the pillow case stuffed full with presents as well as a pile of wrapped parcels on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“He’s been, he’s been” I exclaimed
Sometime later I was sitting on my bed and was surrounded by torn and screwed up bits of wrapping paper and I heard a sound at the door.
Before I had chance to react the door had opened,
“So that’s where my torch went?” Peter said stepping into the room and closing the door behind him
“Is it too early?” I whispered
“No its fine” Peter said and switched on the light
“Good” I responded
“Blige” he exclaimed at the scene of devastation
Totally oblivious of the festive mess I was sat amidst I just said triumphantly
“Look what Father Christmas brought me”
As I brandished above my head my brand new Fireball XL5 rocket.
“Happy Christmas” Peter said
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.
But it wasn’t just outside babysitting Peter had to do, he was often “lumbered” as he would put it, with looking after me at home.
It was on one such occasion in 1964 when I was 8 and Peter was 13.
I remember the day vividly because it was the day my loving brother, five years my senior cast a doubt over the existence of Father Christmas.
My Dad had left the army the previous year and we were then living in the village of Abbotts Ripton in Cambridgeshire where he was chauffeur to the 3rd Baron de Ramsey.
We lived in a quaint “chocolate box” thatched cottage on the edge of the Estate.
Due to some extremely wet weather we were confined to barracks while Mum and dad went shopping in Huntingdon with the gamekeeper and his wife.
There had been the usual fruitless exchange between Peter and Mum.
“Can we go out?” he asked
“Of course not” she replied “it’s absolutely tipping down, you silly boy”
“Boring” he retorted
Mum just tutted and closed the front door behind her.
“Oh great” He cursed “stuck indoors on a Saturday with you and nothing to do”
To put things into perspective we had no computers or video games and there were only two TV channels and they had a limited schedule.
“What are we going to do now?” Peter said and flopped down on the sofa
“We can do a jigsaw” I suggested
“Nah” he replied
“We could play cards” I offered
“Like what?” he queried
“Snap” I said happily
Peter shook his head
“Fish?”
“Brilliant” Peter responded “not only am I stuck indoors on a Saturday but I’m doing it with a baby”
Undaunted I pressed on
“Ludo then, you like Ludo”
“Oh God” he said and buried his face in a cushion
“Snakes and ladders” I said in desperation
“Nah” he said and then he emerged from the cushion and continued “I’ve got a better idea”
“What?” I asked hoping we might finally do something
“Let’s find the presents” he said
“What presents?” I asked
“The Christmas presents” Peter replied
“Huh?” I responded
“The Christmas presents, dummy” he repeated
“I don’t understand” I said
“We’re going to look for our Christmas presents” Peter said
“I still don’t understand” I said confused “it’s not Christmas yet”
Peter had got up and stood by the door
“How can we have presents when Father Christmas hasn’t been yet?”
“God you’re more of a baby than I thought” Peter said with contempt
“You actually still believe in Father Christmas” he added scornfully and laughed
“Shut up” I screamed
“There is no father Christmas you dummy” Peter responded
“Mum and Dad buy all the presents, and put them in our pillow cases”
“No they don’t” I shouted and ran past him and out of the room crying,
This just made him laugh even more.
I just kept running and went upstairs and onto my bed.
I don’t know how long I lay on my bed crying but when I emerged I found Peter carrying a step ladder up the narrow staircase clearly still engaged on his great Christmas present hunt.
“What are you doing?” I asked wiping my eyes on my sleeve
“I’ve looked everywhere except for the loft” he replied panting hard
I refrained from pointing out the reason why he hadn’t found anything and elected instead to watching him struggle with setting the stepladder up and climbing up.
I did laugh when he banged his on the loft hatch but he responded with a glare.
Once he’d disappeared through the hatch I ventured gingerly up the steps.
“Aha” Peter exclaimed and my heart sank
“What is it?” I asked fearing the answer
“I’ve found them” Peter said as his head appeared through the hatch.
“Oh” I responded weakly as his head withdrew much like a tortoise retreating into its shell
“Do you want to know what you’re getting?” he shouted
“No” I shouted back “Don’t tell me”
“Are you sure?” he taunted me
I hesitated, though I didn’t want to know what was in the loft I did want to know something.
“Just tell me if there’s a Fireball XL5?” I said
Fireball XL5 was my favourite program and having my own rocket was the one thing I wanted most in all the world, all the kids at school were talking about it, and I wanted one.
It was the one and only thing I had asked for in my letter to Father Christmas.
“No there isn’t” he replied “and there’s no Walkie Talkies either”
The Radios were the one present Peter had asked for though he would never have admitted that he’d written to Santa.
He spent the next hour sulkily playing Ludo with me until Mum and Dad came home.
I was in a much better mood because in my naivety I took the absence of the rocket in the loft to mean that Father Christmas would be bringing it.
In the days following the present hunt I was troubled by the devastating news that Father Christmas might not exist but I made sure Peter didn’t know how upset I was.
But despite the doubts that now filled my head, on Christmas Eve that year I went to bed with all the usual expectations and having gone through the usual rituals.
Putting out by the fireplace, milk and cookies for Father Christmas and a carrot for the reindeer and then laying out the pillow case on the foot of my bed.
And as I lay snuggled down in bed I thought that it didn’t really matter, it was still fun and there would still be presents in the morning.
Well that’s what I told myself.
It was still dark when I stirred the next morning although I didn’t know what time it was.
I waited for my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness but I couldn’t make out anything.
Then I stretched my legs down as far as they would go and whoopee the presents were there.
I couldn’t put the light on incase it was too early, we had been warned about the consequences of getting up too early, so I had to quietly slip out of bed and onto the floor where I reached beneath my bed until I found my torch.
Well when I say it was my torch, it was actually Peters and I had sneaked into his room and stole it from under his bed while he was in the bathroom.
I switched it on and pointed it at the end of the bed.
“Wow” I said as the torch light fell on the pillow case stuffed full with presents as well as a pile of wrapped parcels on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“He’s been, he’s been” I exclaimed
Sometime later I was sitting on my bed and was surrounded by torn and screwed up bits of wrapping paper and I heard a sound at the door.
Before I had chance to react the door had opened,
“So that’s where my torch went?” Peter said stepping into the room and closing the door behind him
“Is it too early?” I whispered
“No its fine” Peter said and switched on the light
“Good” I responded
“Blige” he exclaimed at the scene of devastation
Totally oblivious of the festive mess I was sat amidst I just said triumphantly
“Look what Father Christmas brought me”
As I brandished above my head my brand new Fireball XL5 rocket.
“Happy Christmas” Peter said
Me And My Brother – The November The 5th Fiasco
My brother was five years older than me and as a result from the time I was five years old he looked upon me as something of a burden.
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.
In fact I can only remember one occasion when he was grateful for my company.
It was November 1966, I was 10 and Peter had just turned fifteen the week before.
We were living in North London, where my dad worked as a grounds man on Alexandra Park racecourse and we lived in a cottage on the grounds.
It was the day before bonfire night which when I was ten was a very exciting time.
I found everything about bonfire night exciting, the bonfire in the back garden with the guy on top, hot chocolate and marshmallows, but I especially enjoyed the fireworks, now they’re just bloody annoying, but then they were magic when I was a kid.
However we weren’t the wealthiest family and money for luxuries like fireworks was not easy to come by so we never knew if we were going to have a selection box or a small box of bangers and some sparklers.
So it wasn’t until the afternoon of the 5th of November that we heard the news.
Peter and I were upstairs and Mum and Dad were in the kitchen when dad called up.
“Boys? Come down here”
We knew what is was about so we didn’t need calling twice and we dropped what we were doing and ran full pelt down the stairs, Peter got there first as usual.
“Alright slow down” Dad said as we slid into the kitchen on the lino.
“Mums got something for you”
So we turned our full attension to Mum.
“Here you are boys”’she said handing a bank note to Peter “for fireworks”
“Wow Five pounds?” we said in unison
“Yes” she replied, “I did a lot of overtime last month”
“Thanks Mum” I said and hugged her, Peter took his eyes off the note momentarily and joined me.
Then we did the same to Dad.
“Don’t waste it all on fancy stuff, you’ve got enough there for a decent selection box and a few extras” he said and the realisation dawned on Peters face that he was allowed to get them himself.
In previous years we had gone to the shop and Dad had always bought them.
Even though back in those days kids could buy fireworks and most tobacconists would sell you fags or you could get them and beer from the offie, you didn’t need a note or anything.
We both ran out of the kitchen and started putting our shoes on.
“Where do you think your going” Mum said to me
“I’m going with Peter” I replied, “to get the fireworks”
“Oh no you’re not” she corrected me
“Hah” Peter said and smirked rather disgustingly
“But…” I began
“But nothing you still have chores left to do” she scolded
“But…” I began again
“You have toys all over the house that I told you to clear away this morning” she said
Peter was heading for the back door.
Dad handed him a letter and said
“Pop my coupon in the post on your way”
“Ok Dad” Peter said and smirked at me again
“If I pick them all up now can I go?” I begged
“Too late” Peter said and went out the door “Bye”
“If I pick them all up can I run and catch him up?” I asked
“No” Mum said sternly
I looked at my dad for support but he just inclined his head and gave me a knowing smile that said, “You should have done it when you were told to”
I went off sulkily and begrudgingly picked up every toy car, soldier and Lego brick
And then sat down watching the clock
After what seemed like an age I went to the kitchen to find mum, Dad had gone back to work by then.
“Why isn’t Peter back yet?” I asked her
She was stood at the sink and half turned to glance over her shoulder at the clock
“I don’t know” she replied unsurely then after a moment or two added
“Perhaps he had to go to more than one shop”
She accompanied this remark with a distinct nod as if to confirm what a sensible conclusion she had come to.
Half an hour later she was less convinced.
“Shall I go and look for him?” I suggest hopefully
“No” she said firmly “I don’t want to lose two sons in one afternoon thank you very much”
Then she began pacing the kitchen and muttering under her breath, she had just began her sixth length when I spotted him shuffling down the front path.
“Here he is,” I shouted
“Where?” Mum said and went to the window “thank God”
When he came through the door he looked very crestfallen.
“Where on earth have you been?” mum said sharply though clearly relieved
“I...” he began
“Let’s see the fireworks,” I asked
“I…” he began again
“Where are the fireworks?” Mum asked “Did someone steal them from you?”
“I didn’t get any” he replied softly
“Why not?” Mum demanded
“I,,, I” he stuttered
“Well?” mum reiterated
“I lost the money,” I said
“You did what?” she shouted “you stupid boy”
“I looked everywhere” he said “that’s why I’ve been so long”
“Do you know how hard I have to work to earn the money for luxuries like fireworks?”
“I’m sorry” he said and began crying “but I retraced my steps and I really have looked everywhere”
“Well that’s, that then” Mum yelled as she stomped off down the hall “and don’t think you’re getting any more”
“Did you post Dads letter?” I asked
“Yes” he sobbed
“Well at least you did that right,” Mum said
“Perhaps it’s in the letter box,” I suggested
“What is?” Mum asked
“The fiver” I explained “maybe you posted it with Dads coupon”
Peter looked thoughtful as mum came back into the kitchen
“See your brother has got more sense in his little finger than you’ve got in your whole body”
Peter stared at the floor as she ranted on, this was not the first time she had said that particular phrase but it still hurt.
“You need to get yourself up to the post box and wait there until its emptied and ask the postman to check through the letters”
Peter got up and walked towards the door.
“And take your brother with you” She said, “at least I know I can trust him”
“Can we still get fireworks?” I asked as I put my coat on
“Let’s find the money first” she snapped “and then we’ll see”
I had to run up the path to catch up with Peter but when I caught up to him he put his arm around my shoulder and said
“Well done kid,” he said
We spent the next hour sitting on the curb by the post box until the postman pulled up
He jumped out of his Comma van and when he saw us sitting there he laughed and said
“Ok what did you do?”
Peter stood up and explained what we thought he’d done and he laughed again
“You wouldn’t believe the things people post in here by accident” he said as he unlocked the door and began transferring letters from the box into his sack pausing only once to brandish our £5 note.
We thanked him profusely and went running off down the road and hoped above hope that Mum would still let us spend the hard earned £5 on fireworks.
She was much happier by the time we got home and gave us both a hug before saying
“Now the pair of you had better get to the shop before they close”
“Really?” Peter said
“Yes” Mum said and kissed his forehead
“Just don’t tell your father”
Now that might sound a bit melodramatic but it’s not as if he had to raise me or anything although in truth I think he would have preferred that.
But unfortunately for Peter his burden took a very different form.
Ever since my fifth birthday he had to baby-sit me, whenever he went out to play he had to take me along, and he hated it, which he never let me forget.
It didn’t matter what plans he had, football, cricket, riding his bike or fishing, you name it I was there too.
In fact I can only remember one occasion when he was grateful for my company.
It was November 1966, I was 10 and Peter had just turned fifteen the week before.
We were living in North London, where my dad worked as a grounds man on Alexandra Park racecourse and we lived in a cottage on the grounds.
It was the day before bonfire night which when I was ten was a very exciting time.
I found everything about bonfire night exciting, the bonfire in the back garden with the guy on top, hot chocolate and marshmallows, but I especially enjoyed the fireworks, now they’re just bloody annoying, but then they were magic when I was a kid.
However we weren’t the wealthiest family and money for luxuries like fireworks was not easy to come by so we never knew if we were going to have a selection box or a small box of bangers and some sparklers.
So it wasn’t until the afternoon of the 5th of November that we heard the news.
Peter and I were upstairs and Mum and Dad were in the kitchen when dad called up.
“Boys? Come down here”
We knew what is was about so we didn’t need calling twice and we dropped what we were doing and ran full pelt down the stairs, Peter got there first as usual.
“Alright slow down” Dad said as we slid into the kitchen on the lino.
“Mums got something for you”
So we turned our full attension to Mum.
“Here you are boys”’she said handing a bank note to Peter “for fireworks”
“Wow Five pounds?” we said in unison
“Yes” she replied, “I did a lot of overtime last month”
“Thanks Mum” I said and hugged her, Peter took his eyes off the note momentarily and joined me.
Then we did the same to Dad.
“Don’t waste it all on fancy stuff, you’ve got enough there for a decent selection box and a few extras” he said and the realisation dawned on Peters face that he was allowed to get them himself.
In previous years we had gone to the shop and Dad had always bought them.
Even though back in those days kids could buy fireworks and most tobacconists would sell you fags or you could get them and beer from the offie, you didn’t need a note or anything.
We both ran out of the kitchen and started putting our shoes on.
“Where do you think your going” Mum said to me
“I’m going with Peter” I replied, “to get the fireworks”
“Oh no you’re not” she corrected me
“Hah” Peter said and smirked rather disgustingly
“But…” I began
“But nothing you still have chores left to do” she scolded
“But…” I began again
“You have toys all over the house that I told you to clear away this morning” she said
Peter was heading for the back door.
Dad handed him a letter and said
“Pop my coupon in the post on your way”
“Ok Dad” Peter said and smirked at me again
“If I pick them all up now can I go?” I begged
“Too late” Peter said and went out the door “Bye”
“If I pick them all up can I run and catch him up?” I asked
“No” Mum said sternly
I looked at my dad for support but he just inclined his head and gave me a knowing smile that said, “You should have done it when you were told to”
I went off sulkily and begrudgingly picked up every toy car, soldier and Lego brick
And then sat down watching the clock
After what seemed like an age I went to the kitchen to find mum, Dad had gone back to work by then.
“Why isn’t Peter back yet?” I asked her
She was stood at the sink and half turned to glance over her shoulder at the clock
“I don’t know” she replied unsurely then after a moment or two added
“Perhaps he had to go to more than one shop”
She accompanied this remark with a distinct nod as if to confirm what a sensible conclusion she had come to.
Half an hour later she was less convinced.
“Shall I go and look for him?” I suggest hopefully
“No” she said firmly “I don’t want to lose two sons in one afternoon thank you very much”
Then she began pacing the kitchen and muttering under her breath, she had just began her sixth length when I spotted him shuffling down the front path.
“Here he is,” I shouted
“Where?” Mum said and went to the window “thank God”
When he came through the door he looked very crestfallen.
“Where on earth have you been?” mum said sharply though clearly relieved
“I...” he began
“Let’s see the fireworks,” I asked
“I…” he began again
“Where are the fireworks?” Mum asked “Did someone steal them from you?”
“I didn’t get any” he replied softly
“Why not?” Mum demanded
“I,,, I” he stuttered
“Well?” mum reiterated
“I lost the money,” I said
“You did what?” she shouted “you stupid boy”
“I looked everywhere” he said “that’s why I’ve been so long”
“Do you know how hard I have to work to earn the money for luxuries like fireworks?”
“I’m sorry” he said and began crying “but I retraced my steps and I really have looked everywhere”
“Well that’s, that then” Mum yelled as she stomped off down the hall “and don’t think you’re getting any more”
“Did you post Dads letter?” I asked
“Yes” he sobbed
“Well at least you did that right,” Mum said
“Perhaps it’s in the letter box,” I suggested
“What is?” Mum asked
“The fiver” I explained “maybe you posted it with Dads coupon”
Peter looked thoughtful as mum came back into the kitchen
“See your brother has got more sense in his little finger than you’ve got in your whole body”
Peter stared at the floor as she ranted on, this was not the first time she had said that particular phrase but it still hurt.
“You need to get yourself up to the post box and wait there until its emptied and ask the postman to check through the letters”
Peter got up and walked towards the door.
“And take your brother with you” She said, “at least I know I can trust him”
“Can we still get fireworks?” I asked as I put my coat on
“Let’s find the money first” she snapped “and then we’ll see”
I had to run up the path to catch up with Peter but when I caught up to him he put his arm around my shoulder and said
“Well done kid,” he said
We spent the next hour sitting on the curb by the post box until the postman pulled up
He jumped out of his Comma van and when he saw us sitting there he laughed and said
“Ok what did you do?”
Peter stood up and explained what we thought he’d done and he laughed again
“You wouldn’t believe the things people post in here by accident” he said as he unlocked the door and began transferring letters from the box into his sack pausing only once to brandish our £5 note.
We thanked him profusely and went running off down the road and hoped above hope that Mum would still let us spend the hard earned £5 on fireworks.
She was much happier by the time we got home and gave us both a hug before saying
“Now the pair of you had better get to the shop before they close”
“Really?” Peter said
“Yes” Mum said and kissed his forehead
“Just don’t tell your father”
Friday 22 November 2013
Thanksgiving Gags
Thanksgiving Gags
WHY DID THE TURKEY CROSS THE ROAD? # 2
Why did the turkey cross the road?
There was a very simple reason
It was due to a lack of options for a Turkey
During the Thanksgiving season
WHY DID THE TURKEY CROSS THE ROAD? # 3
Why did the turkey cross the road?
Well contrary to the fable
It was to avoid ending up
On the Thanksgiving table
IF ONLY YOUR LEFT LEG WAS THANKSGIVING
If only your left leg was Thanksgiving
And your right leg was Christmas day
Then I could devote all of my time
To visiting you between the holidays
AT THANKSGIVING TIME
At thanksgiving time
Turkeys, will like as not
Do the thanksgiving dance
Known as the turkey trot
WHY DID THE TURKEY CROSS THE ROAD? # 2
Why did the turkey cross the road?
There was a very simple reason
It was due to a lack of options for a Turkey
During the Thanksgiving season
WHY DID THE TURKEY CROSS THE ROAD? # 3
Why did the turkey cross the road?
Well contrary to the fable
It was to avoid ending up
On the Thanksgiving table
IF ONLY YOUR LEFT LEG WAS THANKSGIVING
If only your left leg was Thanksgiving
And your right leg was Christmas day
Then I could devote all of my time
To visiting you between the holidays
AT THANKSGIVING TIME
At thanksgiving time
Turkeys, will like as not
Do the thanksgiving dance
Known as the turkey trot
This Sporting Life
BACK IN 1966
Back in 1966
When I was just a boy
I was full of pride
Watching Nobby’s jig of joy
And when Bobby Moore
Was raised shoulder high
Holding the World Cup
We all began to cry
I AM PROUD TO SAY THAT I COME
I am proud to say that I come
From a mixed race family
My mum was a sprinter
And dad did cross country
RED SOX
For a Bostonian
At his pleasure
Has a particular calling
When at his leisure
And that’s at Fenway Park
Where he spends the day
With kindred spirits watching
The Red Sox play
BLACK SOX
In the 1919 World Series
The Black Sox scandal took place
When the Chicago White Sox
Much to their disgrace
Threw the series
To the Reds of Cincinnati
An event of epic proportions
That will for ever live in infamy
Back in 1966
When I was just a boy
I was full of pride
Watching Nobby’s jig of joy
And when Bobby Moore
Was raised shoulder high
Holding the World Cup
We all began to cry
I AM PROUD TO SAY THAT I COME
I am proud to say that I come
From a mixed race family
My mum was a sprinter
And dad did cross country
RED SOX
For a Bostonian
At his pleasure
Has a particular calling
When at his leisure
And that’s at Fenway Park
Where he spends the day
With kindred spirits watching
The Red Sox play
BLACK SOX
In the 1919 World Series
The Black Sox scandal took place
When the Chicago White Sox
Much to their disgrace
Threw the series
To the Reds of Cincinnati
An event of epic proportions
That will for ever live in infamy
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