Monday, 14 November 2016

Thought for the Day, with Justin Webly, more or less Arch of Cant

Hullo,
          
Justin here.

Dear friends, I must admit that I’ve been a little slow off the mark with regard to the USA’s choosing of a new president. Here at the Palace I have been beset by all manner of opinion. But as the young man with the wire in his ear tells me  - notwithstanding some British politicians wanting to ban Mr Trump from U.K. shores, sooner rather than later that will be brushed aside and I will have to meet him. What WOULD Jesus have done?
      
Whilst I know that Our Lord met quite a few out and out rotters in his time, try as I might, I can find nothing in the Scriptures to help me. On the other hand, staff here at the Palace have been only too willing to offer advice. Even my lady wife has remarked on Mr Trump’s expressive hand movements and became embarrassingly coquettish when mention was made of Mr Trump’s fondness for ladies’ bottoms. The young man with the wire in his ear positively waxed lyrical at the thought of the weaponry probably carried by Mr Trump’s bodyguards.
    
However, Mr Hassan was far more down to earth and suggested that Mr Trump was little more than a “rich foreign git”. Rich and foreign I understand. “Git” evades me somewhat. I shall pray for guidance.
    
But I must also offer guidance to the Palace Christmas Arrangements Committee. We are only a little over a month away from that joyous season and whilst as far as Christmas is concerned, I am a self-confessed traditionalist, I do recognize that I must move with the times. However,the local heavy-metal Christian band, “Jesus is Better than Heroin” has offered to open our Christmas service with its latest hit, “ Kick Ciaphas” and I think I must decline. Mr Hassan has offered to arrange a power cut.

What would I do without him ?

Pip,pip,


Justin 

Wednesday, 19 October 2016

Thought for the Day, with Justin Webly, more or less Arch of Cant

Hullo,
           
Justin here... and my apologies for my being away from my Thought for the Day desk recently. Truth be told, I have been involved in not a little Church diplomacy, consulting with my French, Spanish, German and Italian counterparts about Brexit and whether the UK can regard itself as a Christian country after we leave Europe. I did try to point out that Christianity is just ONE form of belief amongst many here, but Monsignor The Reverend Pierre Panique was of the opinion that all the different belief systems tolerated in Europe merely led to unrest. The Italian representative agreed and suggested that I, as head of the most numerous Christian congregation in the UK should declare all inhabitants of these islands Christian. After all, the Spanish bishop said – there is only one God.
         
You might imagine my shock and disbelief. Even the young man with the wire in his ear sniggered loudly at this point. Up until then he had been content with trying to work out what sort of side – arms were being carried by my contemporaries’ bodyguards. (One Beretta, two Browning Hi-Powers and the inevitable Glock, apparently).
         
Consequently, upon my return, I was very anxious that details of my Church Brexit discussions did not leak out, considering especially the fact that my Muslim colleagues are awfully keen on the one God thing. What would Jesus have done?
         
In fact I need not have worried because the Palace was buzzing with ideas about what form our Christmas celebrations should take. I did suggest that it is still only late October. My lady wife actually called me a killjoy  and Mr Hassan laughed heartily. I have never been clear as to what his religious beliefs are, so I asked him. He replied that it didn’t matter and that there was only one God anyway and besides, the main thing about Christmas is getting presents and drinking a lot.
         
I must admit that at this point I left, pleading tiredness and a headache after my international discussions. As I headed up the wooden hill to a steaming mug of Horlicks. I heard the young man with the wire in his ear and Mr Hassan discussing the practicalities of installing a Bethlehem bouncy castle in the Lady Chapel.

Pip, pip,

Justin.

Thursday, 11 August 2016

Pangolin Obituary


The death has been reported of Dame Evadne Manifold-Thrust (b 1906). 

Dame Evadne was an early C20th century Olympian who gained two bronze medals in Club Hurling and Club Retrieval. The present Olympic Games under way somewhere abroad are a poignant reminder of Dame Evadne's altogether more amateur era.

Before her ennoblement, Evadne Thrust, as she was then, supported herself, first as a Stoker 2nd Class on the ill-fated SS Fortinbras (torpedoed, Leeds Liverpool canal 1917) then as part of The Strapping Lasses trapeze team with McFarter's travelling circus. In the days before drugs testing, Evadne often turned up to training clutching a crate of Hinchcliffe's Strewth Brown Ale.

Her marriage to fellow club hurler Sir Jack Manifold (1927) meant that Evadne had to retire. She was a far better hurler than Sir Jack and had no wish to embarrass him.
  
After Sir Jack's sad death, under the wheels of a runaway hearse in 1942, Dame Evadne threw herself into the Campaign for Noisier Hearses, becoming president in 1949, a post she held until her death. Police are investigating the circumstances of Dame Evadne's demise which apparently involved an electric milk float.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Trending: Free-range chicken farm to give free-range samples to bald people

Cheepin Cheerful Chickens of Glossop has announced that it will be making gifts of free eggs to bald people of all ages, in a celebration of what it is to be hairless. The presentations will take place at an open day at the farm on August 19th. There would also be merchandise for sale, such as billiard balls, videos of young coots and bald paté.

Feminist groups have reacted angrily, pointing out that this favours gentlemen of a male persuasion and Sinead O'Connor, but the Cheepin Cheerful spokesman responded that there were no age barriers here and it was all to promote inclusivity. 

"Why, I've visited a maternity ward," chirped MD Henrietta Fowler (74). "Not one of those babbies had a wisp of hair - and I bet they was evenly distributed across all the sexes! And they'll all be welcome here!"