I wrote last on how an impending move to the North West might spell the end of Beestonia, and was rather touched, sadly only metaphorically, though I’m still open to more literal offers, by your words of condolence. I still am in a limbo somewhere over the equidistant Peak Village of New Mills (no thrills, handy for the hills) between Manchester and Beestonia as I plot my life. Handily, my laptop died recently. This, I hope, is a convincing excuse to add to the many thousands I’ve wrote before to explain my awfulness at updating this site. So right now I’m in a little Cheshire town that never had Ghandhi visit it, never was once home to Paul Smith openly weeps at the fact no actors from Porridge never hailed from it, tapping this piece of regionalistic guff out on a borrowed keyboard as my poor Beestonia lies leaderless under a leaden sky, many miles away. Regrets, Ive had a few……heres a few I must mention
INVENT VIN DU BEESTONIA: My love of wine is well known, especially amongst the good shopkeepers of Aras General Stores who can thank me for keeping them propped up with my purchases early on in their opening of the store. The regularity of my visits were such that there pricing structure is a result of slurred suggestions from myself. This is a legacy I am proud of, but sadly my ambition to make Beestonia Britain’s viti-culture hub failed when what I thought was grape seed turned out to be gooseberry. Thank you, Wilkos, thank you for your sloppiness inthe basic adherance to a strict alphabetical regime. Still, I had a go, and produced a wine of such incredible tartness, such cheek-sucking sourness, that its only stocked by Aras General Stores. Two bottles for a fiver. Go on, try it. Its like Cystitis in a bottle.
CONTROL THE POLITICAL SHENANIGANS OF BEESTONIA: This has been possibly a mixed success. I managed to attend virtually every one of the Broxtowe hustings and comment thus, and met all the contenders except for Mick Shore, the BNP contender who got annoyed when I called him a ‘holocaust denier’ though that never happened. Nope. There was evidence to show that I did, incredibly persuasive, undeniable evidence, that DEFINITELY shows it happened. But it doesn’t really fit my agenda that I did, so it didn’t. And you’d be a commie or a foreign to think I did. I did let Beestonia become a battleground for the parties to rip chunks out of each other, which they did with a healthy vigour. However, as much of this was to do with the statistical probability of how votes would fall, it had the readability of a fight between Marcus de Sautoy and Johnny Ball. Actually, that sounds ace. I did manage to beat The Nottingham ‘Evening’ Post to the result, however ( thanks to insiders at the count), but unfortunately the second recount fell against my backing: Ms Soubry got in and I suddenly realised I was now ruled by a representative who considered me a ‘sexist’ and ‘rude’. Awww, bless her *pats curly head*. Anyhow, I leave knowing that despite backing Palmer and Soubry getting in, I still came through the experience knowing that politicians are actually quite lovely people, despite all the Machiavellian knockabouts . Except for Mick Shore. Who doesn’t exist.
INFLUENCE THE LEADERSHIP OF THE FORTHCOMING LABOUR LEADERSHIP BATTLE ELECTION: I didn’t get to meet Balls, was involved into a ruckus when meeting Abbott https://beestonia.wordpress.com/2010/08/11/abbot-loves-beestonia-e-d-bloody-l-swings/, thought Milliband (Dan) was a bit robotic https://beestonia.wordpress.com/2010/07/30/756/ couldn’t be arsed to attend a meeting with Burnham and had a mole see Miliband ( Ed) have a poo on a train https://beestonia.wordpress.com/2010/05/01/round-three-then-there-were-four-i-get-papped-by-mystery-activists-cause-a-divorce-and-other-fun-ed-miliband-snips-one-off/. Allegedly.
DISPROVE THE CURSE OF BEESTONIA: Much talked about, yet it still goes on. When I mention my potential exodus of Beestonia, the VERY NEXT DAY I lose my job, rendering what was just a vague long term plan into a no-choice, no option move to the wild reaches of the North West. In mind of this weird supernatural phenomena, I would like to say I totally believe I will NOT get six numbers in Wednesday’s lotto, will NOT be taken on by the Guardian to be Charlie Brooker’s replacement, and DEFINATELY WILL NOT have Mariella Frostrup suddenly fall from the sky and land in my lap. Just saying.
PREVENT THE EAST MIDLANDS BEING THE FORGOTTEN PART OF ENGLAND: lofty, I know, but I read an article recently on how Metropolitan journalists ignore the rest of the country. It began, I kid ye not: ‘Wales, Ulster, Scotland, the North, the West Midlands, EastAnglia, the West Country…ever feel neglected?’ …. well, I was LIVID. The EastMidlands became thus not just a forgotten place, but a place forgotten even by those who were self consciously trying to not forget what everyone tries to forget but forgetting it anyway. I felt slapped, and all the Freudian flood-back-memory of being a second child out of four gushed in like lit naplam, burning, furious, but igniting, igniting a FURY unsurpassed in Nottinghamshire-based glib-blogging. I dedicated myself to redress this evident geographical aberration, but then got side-tracked by a certain Malaysian Lady…
MEET TERI LOU, MY MALAYSIAN GODESS: Oh Terry, oh my beautiful teddy-hugging sweet, how could I forget you. Its maybe seen as uncouth that a writer throwing his mucky product over the face of his loving readership, as I did cheapening our relationship with my LOVE, my DARLING, the fire-engine permitting, cash-stuffed sofa purveyor Terry Lou. It was not to be. And if you have no idea what I’ m talking about, click here and revel in how I wasted Christmas…. http://teresalou.wordpress.com/
INSTIGATE A WAR BETWEEN THE SOUTH AND NORTH: Its been a long fascination of mine that the North/ South divide is such an unfair open wound, seeping bad, pus-soaked blood over our daily affairs that the only hope of settling it is with violent warfare. Extreme, yes, but it worked with the USA where the North and South are in total harm0ny and never diss one another, no siree. My fantastical view on the future war https://beestonia.wordpress.com/2009/10/03/frontline-beestonia-a-post-from-the-future/ bizarrely failed to attract the attention of the masses in the same way that the Dystopias of Orwell and Huxley.
Ah well, I tried. And I will continue to do so, even it is from the rainy side of the Pennine Ridge…..
Theres many, many more. Stay tuned…