A Very British Post (Part Three) - Iconic Symbols

Did you know that I am a British icon? It’s true, I swear. The Queen, a fellow icon, when recently asked about me, said “Is there plastic in Manchester?” and our Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, said “Who?”

Yesterday, I went for a walk and started asking random people about British icons. Most of them told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was a weirdo. But those that took me seriously gave me many diverse answers. Britain is a place so full of iconic objects that I could write a book about them. And even then I wouldn’t cover them all. There are just so bloody many of them.

Moreover, these icons can be subdivided into various classes. I have therefore decided to split the icons into two classes: symbols and places. I will start with symbols.

Bagpipes/Kilts: I would like to meet the man who thought that bagpipes were a good idea. This Scottish instrument is one of the most bizarre ways to make music that I have ever encountered. Incredibly, the bagpipes don’t actually originate in Scotland (something that surprised me); there is evidence of bagpipe-esque instruments dating from the times of ancient Greece. However, the Scottish bagpipe has the most visibility today and the unique wailing noise is mostly associated with our northern neighbours. It is strange watching a piper play; he blows up the bag and plays the tune, yet the timing of the tune is totally different from the timing of his exhalations. As crazy as it sounds, I think that bagpipes actually work musically. I don’t know why And do you know what my favourtie bagpipe tune is? Don't laugh - I'm already embarrassed enough! It is “Amazing Grace” as played at the end of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn, when Spock’s coffin is ejected from the Enterprise. Brings tears to my eyes every time. What a sad fool I am.

As for kilts: I have often been in trouble taking the mickey out of our Scottish neighbours for wearing “skirts”. They don’t take this joke too kindly. To be honest, a Scot dressed in a formal costume complete with kilt and sporran does actually look very smart. Personally I wouldn’t wear a kilt for any amount of money – well perhaps a million pounds as long as there were no cameras to record the event.



Beefeaters: Beefeaters are really “Yeoman Warders” whose purpose in life is to guard the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London. Why are they called beefeaters? One theory is that part of their salary package included slabs of beef in the 17th century. In the time of Henry VIII, these guys were responsible for guarding prisoners, like his wives, held in the tower. These days, of course, the tower is not used as a prison and beefeaters are largely ceremonial. The uniform is ostentatious and flamboyant but it might not be a good idea to poke fun if you are tempted, as these guys are ex-army officers.



Bowler Hats: Whenever I think of bowler hats, I don’t picture a London city gent with an umbrella and a briefcase; I see Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy (two of my all time favourite comic actors). And I’ve never seen anybody wear one, other than in films and in musicals - oh and in that video for "Rock Star" by Nickleback.



Britannia: Britannia is a symbol of the British Empire but originated in Roman Times as a goddess. She is depicted as a beautiful young woman, wearing the helmet of a Roman centurion, carrying a trident and shield, sitting on a rock with a bloody great big lion next to her. I think I would say she is beautiful if threatened by a trident and a lion.



John Bull: This guy is a little like America’s Uncle Sam. He is a rotund Englishman wearing a union jack waistcoat. I would say that he is typically British but the Scots, Welsh and Northern Irish see him as English and don’t accept him. However, apparently he likes a beer, so that makes him okay with me.



Bulldog: Let’s face it, bulldogs are ugly brutes and the fact that this stubby little creature is the British mascot is really funny and typically British. Purists will say that this muscular little canine is a tenacious little beast and therefore represents the dogged spirit of your typical British citizen. How mad is that? I personally think we picked the ugliest mutt on purpose (probably after a few beers).



Cricket: I love cricket. Every summer you will find me and several thousand like-minded Englishmen sitting at a cricket ground watching England in battle with Australia, the West Indies, India, Pakistan, New Zealand or South Africa, relaxing in the sunshine with a pint of best English bitter. As a day out it can’t be beaten. Cricket, however, is seen as an enigma to those that don’t play it. As I’ve said before, I once tried to explain the rules of cricket to an American. It was almost impossible – I thought I had explained in great detail but terms such as "deep long leg", "silly mid-off", "googly", "bowling a maiden over" and "long hop" left him in a confused state. I came across this amusing “rules of cricket” that perhaps I should have used. It makes sense to me because I understand the rules. Does this make it easier?

You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side that’s been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out. When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. There are two men called umpires who stay out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out. When both sides have been in and all the men have out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game!

That makes it all clear, doesn’t it? I’ll be testing you later …



Double-decker bus: Double-decker buses are used extensively in the UK and while they also exist in other places, Britain is deemed to be their home. Significantly the most famous double-deckers are the old red London Routemaster buses, that have sadly been replaced and exist for tourists and heritage only. I think they are great to be honest: as a kid I used to race up to the upper deck so that I could get a superb view of the surrounding area from the bus. To be honest, I still do this now.



Dr Who: Who (I hear you cry)? Yes “Who”! Dr Who is a British science fiction series about the adventures of a Time Lord (an alien time traveller) called Dr Who, who travels around through time and space in a blue 1950’s police box called the “Tardis”. It began on the BBC in 1963 and is the longest running science fiction series in the world. It was shown consistently between 1963 and 1989 when it was axed. It returned in a one-off special in 1996 and was relaunched in 2005 and has been going ever since. I am a HUGE fan of the show. “The Doctor” as he is known has “regenerated” nine times and we are currently on our tenth doctor with number eleven waiting in the wings. Enemies include the Daleks (left picture below) and the Cybermen (middle picture below), each British icons in their own right, as well as a rogue Time Lord called “The Master”. In addition to countless TV series there have been two movies. Every British person knows about the Tardis, the Daleks and the Cybermen, and those who claim not to are lying (in a vain attempt to keep their street credibility). For those of you out there in the world who have yet to experience the wonder of Dr Who, I implore you to do so at your earliest convenience. You won’t regret it.



Football: Whether you are a fan of Manchester United, Arsenal, Liverpool, Celtic, Rangers or Walsall, football is THE greatest sport in existence and is THE sport of Britain. There is nothing better than spending a cold winter’s afternoon with a wagon wheel and a cup of Bovril shivering as your beloved team of warriors battle on the field of play. You become part of a tribe of like minded people who are completely focused on the game. You chant at the opposition; the more obscene and humorous the chant, the better. If you can’t make it to the game, you watch it on TV and hurl abuse at the blind linesmen and cheating referees. If it were up to me football would be played all year round. And for any Americans reading, I am not talking about the rugby-clone that you call “football”. I think you refer to it as “soccer”.



Grenadier Guards: These are the men wearing the red uniform who stand sentry outside royal palaces and are most famous for standing completely still in their huge busby hats while tourists and scamps try their best to make them twitch. However, be aware that Grenadier Guards are in the most senior regiment of the guards division in the British army.



James Bond: The most famous and greatest fictional spy in the entire world is 007, aka Commander Sir James Bond (KCMG, RNVR), a man who flies the flag of Great Britain as he jets around the world, killing psychotic megalomaniacs intent on world domination, while seducing gorgeous young women as he goes. It is rumoured that Ian Fleming used me as a role model for the super spy, but I can say that this just isn’t true. Compared to me, James Bond is an absolute clueless wimp.



London Underground Map: I find it bizarre that the map of the London Underground system is a popular icon amongst tourists. To me it is a simple means to find your way around the vast metropolis that is our capital without getting utterly and totally lost. All you need to do to find your way is identify the nearest “tube” station to the sight you are looking for and use this map to get to that station. It couldn’t be simpler. Having travelled on the tube many times, I can honestly say that it is a simple and very good experience – unless you hit the rush hour, which unfortunately for Londoners, seems to be all day every working day. In that event it is an absolute nightmare!



The Mini: The mini is, as the name suggests, a small car that somehow became an icon in the sixties, thanks to films like “The Italian Job”. It is difficult to believe that this little car was really popular from 1959 to 2000, when the manufacturers stopped making them. The good news, if you are into cars, is that there is a new model called the MINI (the name is in capitals to distinguish it from the previous model). However, this new effort is a little bigger and some mini enthusiasts don’t actually like it.



Pubs: Pubs are my favourite British icon and I have spent a fair amount of time in them over the years. There are approximately 58,000 pubs (short for “public houses”) in Britain and you can find at least one in every village as well as hundreds in towns and cities. In fact, sometimes you can be driving along a lonely country road and sometimes stumble into one in the middle of nowhere. Pubs these days are more than just places to meet and chat over a few beers. In recent years, many pubs double as restaurants and hotels and you can have a decent meal in the majority of them. A recent change in the licensing laws means that instead of pubs closing at 11pm, they can in theory stay open for 24 hours (though most choose not to do so). You can therefore find somewhere to have a nice cosy drink all day and most of the night, should you so desire. Another great thing about pubs are the names such as "The Red Lion", "The Royal Oak", "Lass o'Gowrie", "The Jabez Clegg" and "The Ape and Apple" - and these are just in Manchester. Below is a lovely little pub in the centre of Manchester with a fabulous name: "The Peveril of the Peak".



Red Telephone Box / Red Pillar Box: In recent times you could wander around Britain and see bright red structures almost everywhere. The public telephone box, containing a pay phone used to be ubiquitous but with the advent of mobile phones appear, sadly, to be in decline. Red pillar boxes are still omnipresent and are simply mail boxes. What’s weird about both of these truly British icons is that I have seen them on my travels to other countries, either in a British themed pub or as part of a rich foreigner’s strange collection. I find that bizarre to be honest.



Rolls Royce: I can’t help but admire Roll Royce cars. I would love to drive one but I can’t see that happening unless I win the lottery. Why? Because these cars are not meant to be driven by people like me – they are for the so-called elite, i.e. those with a stupid amount of cash to spend on them. That said, they are gorgeous cars. Sadly, they are owned by BMW, which to me doesn’t sound right.



Sherlock Holmes: Forget Hercule Poirot, Sam Spade, Phillip Marlowe, Perry Mason and Ellery Queen. The most famous detective in the history of fictional detectives is our very own Sherlock Holmes, the greatest sleuth ever to step forth from the imagination of an author. Sherlock Holmes had almost supernatural powers of reasoning, observation and deduction and no villain could escape once Sherlock was on his trail. Elementary, my dear readers.



Taxis: Many foreigners make the mistake of thinking that the black cabs (or Hackney Carriages) they see around London are used only in that city. In fact, the black cab is in use in many other places in Britain, including Manchester. Furthermore, London cab drivers are famous for their opinions and observations but that too is not limited to the capital; Manchester taxi drivers are exactly the same, keen to put the world to rights and offer solutions to every conceivable problem. My problem is that I am equally opinionated and end up clashing with them on a regular basis. I should learn to shut up and listen really.



As I said at the beginning of this post, there are thousands of British icons – I have limited my list and still written, for me, a long post. I do apologise. However, feel free to comment and add your own icons or disagree with my choices.

In the meantime, do you remember the rules for cricket?

Oh, and if you want to start a campaign to make “The Plastic Mancunian” a British icon, don't let me stop you. I wonder how many votes I can count on?

I shall return with a post about iconic places.

A Very British Post (Part Two) - British Cuisine

Let’s face facts: British food is not too popular outside Britain, particularly in Europe. I came across an article in the summer in which continental Europeans voted our food the least popular in Europe. Only three percent of our European brethren thought our cuisine was any good.

To be honest, I don’t know why. I love British food (though I have to admit there are some dishes that are a bit of an acquired taste).

Let me take you on a tour of traditional British fare. I have tried most if not all of the offerings below and can in most cases vouch for their quality and taste. So let’s begin:

English breakfast: What better way to start the day than with a plate full of grilled bacon, sausage (not the American sausage but the “Great British Banger”), baked beans, fried mushrooms, fried egg and grilled tomato? Believe me, it sets you up for the day (particularly after too much ale the night before). For added zest, slaughter your bacon and sausage with HP sauce, a thick spicy brown sauce or add some black pudding. I must tell you about black pudding (or “blood sausage” as it is known in some quarters). It is made by cooking pig or cattle blood until it is solid enough to congeal when cooled. In fact, the best black pudding comes from a town called Bury, which is just a few miles north of Manchester. As disgusting as it sounds, black pudding is actually surprisingly tasty. And I tell you what? If you are ever in England and sample a little too much of our warm beer the night before, there is no better hangover cure than a full English breakfast. I speak from experience. Oh - and the picture beneath the English breakfast is black pudding. Doesn't that look fantastic?

Fish and chips: First of all, let me just say that although deep fried, battered cod and chips wrapped in newspaper may not sound too appetising, let me assure you that it can be a divine meal, particularly in the north of England where the best fish and chips are produced. I wouldn’t advise eating it for every meal, simply because if you do you will almost certainly double your weight. However, as a one-off it is a great meal, especially if you add a tub of mushy peas to add a little flavour. When I really can’t be bothered to cook, I often stroll down to my local fish and chip shop (or “chippy”). Unbeatable.




Bangers and mash: As I mentioned above, “bangers” are traditional British sausages. I have travelled to many countries and never have I ever tasted “bangers” as succulent and delicious as the ones you find in the British Isles (including Ireland). And, as the name of this dish suggests, bangers taste divine when firmly embedded in a pile of fluffy mashed potato, with gravy as an option.




Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding: Really this means any roast meat (pork, chicken etc.) served with two vegetables, roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding smothered in gravy. Yorkshire pudding originated in Yorkshire (of course!) but are eaten just about everywhere. In Yorkshire itself, the pudding is often served before the meal covered in gravy as a sort of starter. Strange lot, these people from Yorkshire. In France, this dish is considered so typically British that the French actually call us "rosbifs". Cheeky buggers! But to be honest it is better than certain Brits call them.




Cottage pie: I love cottage pie. Basically a cottage pie is cooked mince covered in mashed potato, which is grilled to form a crust. For added flavour, I usually grate some cheese on top as well. Truly divine.



Ploughman’s lunch: There’s a pub around ten minutes walk from my house that serves an amazing ploughman’s lunch with a wedge of cheddar cheese so colossal that you could ski down it. A ploughman’s lunch consists of chunks of homemade bread, cheese, salad, raw onion, fruit and pickles.



Lancashire hotpot: You can’t beat a good Lancashire hotpot to warm your cockles on a cold winter day. The dish originates in Lancashire, the area just north of Manchester and consists of meat, potatoes and as many vegetables as you can throw in. Throw the whole lot in a pot and leave in the oven for as long as you like (on low heat of course).



Toad in the hole: What do you get if you cross bangers with a massive Yorkshire pudding? The result is “toad in the hole”. Why it is given this weird name I don’t know. Weird ancient British humour perhaps? I am reluctant to speculate, given the oddness of my trains of thought.



Cornish pasty: These originate in Cornwall and are really beef, onion and potato pies. Well not pies exactly; they are semicircular in shape and wonderfully tasty.



Haggis: I’ve eaten haggis – once! I won’t eat it again, that’s for sure, but not for the obvious reason. If you don’t already know, haggis is a traditional Scottish dish consisting of sheep’s innards minced with onions, suet, oatmeal and spices and then stuffed into a sheep’s stomach and boiled for a few hours. It doesn’t sound very appetising does it? To be fair, it wasn’t the taste of it that I disliked; it was dry and stodgy and a real chore to eat. I’m sure that there are loads of people in Britain who love it – it’s just not for me.



Cream tea: Cream tea is a traditional afternoon snack in the county of Devon in the south west of England. If you visit the place, you will see cream teas advertised everywhere. A cream tea is not a cup of tea with cream. It is a cup of tea served with a scone, a dollop of clotted cream and a splodge of jam. Clotted cream and jam are not my cup of tea (if you’ll pardon the pun) but this snack is very popular all the same.



Afternoon tea: We all love our tea in Britain. I prefer it to coffee and drink several cups during the day. Many other countries drink tea too but the problem is that outside Britain it is horrifically weak. The only country I have been to outside the British Isles that serves a decent cup of tea is Australia. Afternoon tea normally involves a good strong cup of tea and a sandwich. Contrary to popular belief, we don’t all eat cucumber sandwiches; it seems to be the required snack for members of the so-called upper classes. Normal people rarely eat them. Personally I love ham and cheddar cheese sandwiches smothered with Branston pickle.



Marmite: When it comes to marmite, people are in two distinct camps: those who love it and those who loathe it. I love it. It is made from yeast extract (left over from brewing beer) and is a thick, brown sticky spread suitable for toast or sandwiches. The Aussies have their own version called vegemite but I prefer good old marmite because it is stronger tasting.



Jellied eels: I am very squeamish about eels, particularly after having eaten a clossal and disgusting eel stew in Hong Kong, which was full of all sorts of very suspect objects that I ate with trepidation and a shaky hand. The chances of me ever trying this traditional East London delicacy are extremely remote because of this experience. As the name suggests, this dish consists of eels, stewed in a spiced jelly and is available almost exclusively in London. I’ve never seen anybody from anywhere else in Britain actually eating them. We all have sense!



Bubble and squeak: I know what you’re thinking – what the hell is bubble and squeak? I have no idea why this particular dish has such a bizarre name. I have eaten it a few times and I can tell you that it doesn’t squeak and there are no bubbles involved (thankfully before AND after it has been eaten). Basically bubble and squeak is a simple concoction made up of cabbage and potatoes and any other vegetable you wish to throw in, all fried in a pan. And mighty fine it is too.



Scotch eggs: I love scotch eggs but I haven’t had one for years. I feel an inner craving for one even as I type. Contrary to popular belief, scotch eggs originate in England so why they are called “Scotch” I do not know. A scotch egg comprises a cold hard boiled egg, wrapped in sausage meat, dipped in breadcrumbs and deep fried. They are unbelievably tasty!



Bread and butter pudding: Only in England would somebody dream up the bizarre notion of baking a plain sandwich and serving it as a dessert. It is of course more than that. Bread and butter pudding is made by baking buttered bread in an oven with raisins, egg and milk. It may sound revolting but is actually quite nice, especially served with piping hot custard.



Spotted dick: This dessert causes smirks amongst those British people who love double entendres. “Have you a spotted dick?” is surely a line that has been included in a “Carry On” film or “Benny Hill” show at some point – I’d stake my reputation on it. As mad as it sounds, spotted dick is a very nice dessert. It is simply a suet pudding containing dried fruit that looks kind of spotty (because of the fruit). Where the “dick” comes from, remains to be seen (and again I don't really want to speculate)



Trifle: I used to love trifle as a child but these days I find it far too sickly. It contains every ingredient a child would crave in a dessert: jelly, sponge cake, custard, whipped cream and fruit.



I have one final traditional British dish to tell you about that I know for a fact any American readers will either be shocked about or will fall off their chairs in hysterical disbelief. I know this because when I was at university, this foodstuff had this affect on an American student I lived with for a few months.

Picture the scene.

I’m cooking in the kitchen and Eric, my American friend, strolls in and sits down.

Eric: Whatcha cookin’?

Me: You don’t want to know.

Eric: What d’ya mean?

Me: Trust me, you don’t want to know.

Eric: Come on. Are you burning something?

Me: No! I’m cooking a traditional English dish that may … well … shock you.

Eric: Come on now. What the hell are you cooking?

Me: OK – I am cooking faggots.

Eric: WHAT??????

Me: I am cooking faggots.

Eric stops breathing temporarily.

Eric: You’re joking, right?

Me: No. Here’s the packaging.

At this point Eric erupted in a cataclysmic explosion of pure uncontrolled hysteria that was so astonishing he fell off his chair, which was so hilarous that I reacted in a similar way. We both laughed so loudly and hysterically that it took us both a full ten minutes to recover our composure and be able to breath again. The conversation continued:

Eric: You do know what a faggot is, don’t you?

Me: Yes. It’s a spiced pork meatball from the Midlands.

Eric: I mean in the States?

Me: Yes – why do you think I didn’t want to tell you what I was cooking?

Eric begged me for the packaging so that he could take it home to show all his friends back in America. I imagine that he has the box to this day and still telle the story.

I hope this post gives you an insight into our culinary tradition. I have to say that in Britain today every cuisine you can dream of is available in supermarkets and restaurants but in a typical British home you will almost certainly find one of the above delicacies being consumed with gusto.

Anyway, I must go because unfortunately it is my turn to cook tonight. I won’t make the obvious joke about what it might be. And in case you don’t believe me about the faggots …


I will return with a post about British icons.

A Very British Post (Part One)

Today, I came across an article that discussed the traits of British people, those items that are typically British and the various stereotypes and icons that foreigners consider to be quintessentially British. Intrigued by this, I decided to dedicate a couple of posts to this very subject. The first is about the people (of which I am a prime specimen).

On my foreign travels I have met many people who have fixed ideas about what it means to be British. Some people have the opinion that Britain is a bizarre place full of eccentrics; others think that we moan a lot; still more think that we are so reserved that the expression on our face never changes.

Here is a list of some of the traits of British people according to some foreigners:

Bad teeth: apparently there is a school of thought, possibly originating in America, that we have odd, misshapen, crooked, yellow teeth that stick out of our mouths like those of a tiger shark. I am aware that Mike Myers depicted Austin Powers to have dreadful teeth in his three hit movies but in reality our teeth aren’t that bad. From a personal point of view, I visit the dentist every six months for a thorough check up and usually come away without requiring any treatment. I have to admit that compared to our American counterparts, though, perhaps our teeth aren’t perfect. You seldom see a “Hollywood” smile in Britain, where people have a row of perfectly sized, even teeth that are so white you need sunglasses to look at them.

Obsession with the weather: I believe this to be true. Usually, the opening manoeuvre in a conversation is to talk about the weather. Why? Well my own personal opinion is that the weather in the British Isles is so changeable that you cannot guarantee what it will be like at any time during the day, even in the summer. This is one of the reasons I am so annoyed when I see a weather forecast in the morning. Carol Kirkwood will tell me, on BBC Breakfast news, that we should have a warm sunny day. So I leave the house without a coat or an umbrella and I can almost guarantee that I will be caught in a spontaneous, localised freak rain shower that drenches me from head to toe. And this is not just in Manchester either. Once I experienced all four seasons in one day. I went for a walk in May a few years ago and when I set off, the weather was beautiful. Within hours it was raining and then suddenly I was hit with a freak hailstorm. An hour later it was sunny again. This is typical of our weather is also the reason we talk about it all the time.

Obsession with the royal family: The royal family, for me, are merely figureheads and there are two key schools of thought as far as they are concerned. First there are those who love them and are utterly obsessed with them. Second, there are those who regard them as obsolete and want them to stand down. I am somewhere in between. Personally. I am not interested in anything that they say or do; to me they are just self-important celebrities who mean nothing. I wouldn’t care if the Queen’s head was removed from postage stamps for example. I never watch the Queen’s speech on Christmas Day because she is so divorced from reality that everything she says is irrelevant. Still, those that love them do so with gusto. As soon as there is a royal wedding the whole nation comes to a standstill and we all get out our flags and wave – well the royalists do anyway. I just go about my daily life as usual.

Politeness and being reserved: Foreign people see British people as both polite and reserved and to a certain extent this is true. As a nation we are not brash or pushy and we do like to say “please” and “thank you”. Where this comes from I don’t know. You can guarantee that if we have a grievance, we will generally address it politely and will not explode in a tsunami of arrogance and rage – there are exceptions of course. The only problem I see with the “reserved” tag is that we are perceived as being unfriendly, which is far from the truth. I feel that British people tend not to want to intrude and impose on other people’s lives. Personally I don’t care. I am reserved to a certain degree (unless I’ve had too much beer) and am a very friendly chap.

Stiff upper lip: In a similar way to being reserved, we are regarded as being devoid of emotion, i.e. we have the ability to maintain a “stiff upper lip” in the face of adversity. To be honest, I regard this as hogwash. Maybe in the past it was a desirable skill but in today’s times this “stiff upper lip” mentality is probably only encouraged in royalty and the military. That said, most British men will never admit to crying. I do, but only when caught out by a surprise ending in a film. I have been known to leave a cinema, pretending to “have something in my eyes”.

Queuing: I was surprised by this because people queue in other countries. We are perceived as a nation who will happily stand in a queue for hours and despise people who attempt to push in (like Germans for example). If you ever see a queue abroad and notice British people in that queue, just for a laugh try to push in. You will certainly hear these people moan and very politely direct you to the rear of the queue. However, if you approach politely and ask to push in, you may be lucky. From a personal point of view, I despise queuing and will endeavour to do my very best to push in – or simply avoid them.

Humour, irony and self-deprecation: We love to laugh at ourselves and put ourselves down and we are very good at it. In my opinion, we are the funniest people in the world, so funny in fact that a lot of foreigners just don’t get it. Take Monty Python for example. There are British people who do not like Monty Python, but the majority of us do – and we understand why it is so funny. On my first trip to America, we were staying with a family in New Jersey. As soon as I walked through the door, I was cornered by the head of the family who said: “Before we eat I want to know two things. First, why is Monty Python funny? Second, what the hell is cricket?” I struggled to answer both questions but the most difficult was why Monty Python was funny. To me it just is. Take the “Argument Clinic” sketch for example:




Now I find this hilarious. Do you? If you do, then you “get it”. And what about irony? For example, there is a feeling in Britain that Americans just don’t understand it. I came across this on the web recently:

SAN FRANCISCO MAN BECOMES FIRST AMERICAN TO GRASP SIGNIFICANCE OF IRONY - Jay Fullmer, 38, yesterday became the first American to get to grips with the concept of irony. "It was weird," Fullmer said, "I was in London and, like, talking to this guy and it was raining and he pulled a face and said, "great weather, eh?" and I thought "wait a minute, no way is it great weather." Fullmer then realised that the other man's 'mistake' was in fact deliberate.

Fullmer, who is 39 next month and married with two children, aged 8 and 3, plans to use irony himself in future. "I'm like using it all the time," he said. "Last weekend I was grilling steaks and I burned them to sh*t and I said, 'Hey, great weather!'"

Here are some examples of British humour from some of my favourite shows:



















I’m sure you will agree – very funny.

Finally, I would just like to ask any non-British people reading this post what they think are the traits of British people (be nice, please).

I will return with a post about British food.

New Year, New Hobby? I Need Help

People have called me a weirdo on many occasions (and these are friends). I admit that I can be strange if I want to be (you may have worked this out yourselves from some of my earlier posts). However, I can tell you that there are some truly bizarre folks out there on Planet Earth. How do I know? Allow me to enlighten you.

At this time of the year, as the excesses of Christmas fade and the compulsory New Year party approaches, I usually take the time to examine my life and plan improvements for the coming year. I’ve had varying degrees of success in the past. For example, this time last year I promised myself that I would make an effort to embrace my love of creative writing. In the past I had merely dabbled and written the odd short story or rant. In 2008 I decided to start a blog to publish my thoughts to the world and receive some feedback. I thought to myself, why should I suffer the crazy and bizarre thought processes in my head alone? The whole world is mad and my thoughts are there to be shared. It took me three months to pluck up the courage and this blog is the result. And I am happy with it. However, I also promised myself that I would try to teach myself how to play the guitar. That lasted three months. I was bloody useless. In 2009, I will continue to post on this blog (sorry folks) and develop my love of writing.

Nevertheless, I have decided that I need something else, a new hobby of sorts. And it is while researching hobbies that I have discovered the eccentricities of people out there in the wonderful world we live in, people that make me look normal. These people have the most incredible hobbies you can imagine. And I’ve only scratched the surface. I am standing at the zenith of a colossal iceberg of weirdness – and it scares me.

Allow me to start with people who collect things. As a child I was fanatical about Walsall FC and used to go to every home game and as many away games as my dad would take me to. During those years I collected the football programmes from every single game I attended. I still have that collection today. As strange as that may sound, it is positively normal compared to some of the stuff amassed by people out there. For example: airline sickness bags. There are people who actually keep the barf bags that are meant for puking in should an aircraft encounter violent turbulence. Thankfully I haven’t discovered anybody who looks for used ones (yet!).

Other odd items that people collect include:

Garden gnomes whose heads are impaled with spikes and axes: This is a cause of major concern to me. I can vaguely understand folks filling their gardens with gnomes but the thought of buying a gnome and then gluing an axe to its head and painting blood on its face strikes me as perturbing. Am I alone?

Soil samples from abroad: One man I discovered travels the world and whenever he sets foot in a new place, he will scoop up some dirt, store it in a jar, label the jar and then take it back home with him to store in a shed or some other dark and lonely place.

Soil samples from famous graves: One man seeks out the graves of famous dead people, travels there and scoops up soil from the grave itself. How macabre.

Others collect a wide range of strange stuff like: thimbles, handcuffs, fish posters, sugar packets, toothpaste, saw blades, toilet paper, chocolate wrappers and medical antiques.

And I thought stamp collectors were weird.

Moving on, another hobby that people pursue is spotting. I find bird spotting a little strange but I can understand nature lovers enjoying seeing a rare bird. Others, however, are just weird:

Train spotting: I know a couple of train spotters (or “railway enthusiasts” as they like to call themselves) and I just cannot see the fascination of standing on a lonely platform with a book writing down serial numbers of locomotives. To me it is one of the saddest pastimes imaginable. But there is something worse ...

Plane spotting: A few years ago I took my two sons to the observation area at Manchester Airport as they had never seen an aircraft in its full glory. Sadly, we encountered an army of “plane enthusiasts” who had camped out there for hours armed with their radios and notebooks. A Pakistan International Airlines 747 approached while we were there. How did we know? One of the “enthusiasts” listening in on the radio screamed “it’s the PIA jumbo”. It was like a goal scored at a cup final. All of the plane spotters leapt up as one, pulled out their notebooks and binoculars and whooped as the aircraft approached. My boys were keen because they had never seen one but these guys were almost in total ecstasy. They cheered as the metal monster roared past and almost passed out in delirium as the tires hit the tarmac of the runway. I thought these people were the saddest people I had ever encountered until I discovered …

Bus spotting: I live in Manchester, a city that relies on buses as a major form of public transport. Why on earth would anybody want to stand at a bus stop and write down model numbers of each double decker that roared past? I have never seen one of these geeky nerds but I would love to, just so that I can persuade them to acquire some kind of life. However, they do have a life compared to those who are …

Eddie Stobart spotters: Eddie Stobart is the name of a haulage company with a fleet of distinctive lorries that travel the length and breadth of the United Kingdom and beyond. The lorries are distinctive and each one has a unique female name. An Eddie Stobart spotter is a person who sits on the side of the motorway basically spotting these lorries as they go about their daily duties. They even have a website called “Club Stobart” where like minded people can talk to each other. I had a quick peep to get an insight into their psyche but left when I discovered that I had to pay £15 for the privilege. Is that sad or what? Yes it is but even sadder is …

Trolley spotting: I discovered a woman who travels around searching for abandoned shopping trolleys. She takes a photo of them, marks their exact location and then returns home and records them on a map.

Container ship spotting: I’ve asked myself - do I want to travel all the way to Norfolk, stand on a cold, desolate, isolated beach with a pair of binoculars and a notepad and wait for a container ship to drift past? It took me a nanosecond to answer; NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Enough spotting! How about being a fanatic? Recently, Barry Manilow played a concert in Manchester and Mrs PM’s dad was dragged there by his wife, forking out £240 for two tickets. He told me that he was sitting next to five women who were “Fanilows”. These are fanatics of the man who travel everywhere to see their hero. And boy do they travel. One woman said that she has been to Las Vegas to see Barry more times than she can recall and has paid thousands and thousands of pounds to do so. She was in Manchester but she had travelled all the way from Peterborough to see him, having been to London to see him on his previous date. Now that IS dedication. I’m still smarting over paying £45 to see AC/DC in April next year.

If music isn’t your bag then you could become a science fiction fanatic. And there are plenty of science fiction programmes to get excited about. I have to confess that I do love a bit of sci-fi and I love Star Trek, Star Wars, Babylon 5 and Dr Who. However, my love of the show stops at simply watching them on TV. I do not, for example, watch endless repeats. And I certainly do not dress up as a Starfleet Officer, give myself a Starfleet command title, learn Klingon, turn my dentists surgery into the Enterprise sick bay or go to a convention. I have one thing to say to those that do – IT’S JUST A TV PROGRAMME!!!!!

Fanaticism is out then. At this point I was struggling but did discover a couple of miscellaneous hobbies that made me laugh:

Duct tape artist – a woman who uses duct tape to construct works of art. However, she doesn’t limit herself to mere sculptures; she makes jewellery, shoes and even clothes. I would love to go to her fashion show. Maybe I could buy Mrs PM a duct tape dress for New Years Eve.

Space hijackers – These are a bunch of passive anarchists who stage unexpected events. For example, take the Circle Line Party. Meet on an underground station on the Circle Line in London, board the train and sit down with you fellow space hijackers and wait for the train to depart. As soon as the doors close and the train pulls out – HAVE A PARTY complete with drinks, disco lights, dancing, singing, karaoke and whatever. Carry on partying until the train pulls into the next station and then retake your seats in silence. When the train moves off again, HAVE ANOTHER PARTY! Carry on ad nauseam!

Guerilla gardening – Visit your local garden centre and buy lots of plants, bulbs and seeds. Wait until it is dark and then break into your neighbours’ gardens and plant the things you have purchased randomly. I presume that you may have to wait a month or so for the fruits of your labour but the pleasure of seeing their faces when they discover a rose bush sprouting up from their lawn.

So I need help. I can’t find anything that I want to do that isn’t sad, mad or outrageous. Any ideas?

Maybe I’ll just brush up on my French or write that elusive novel. If anybody has any suggestions, please let me know – as long as it doesn’t involve being perched on a stool by the motorway looking like a sad goon, or following a decrepit old has-been around the world.

Have a Happy New Year everybody and I hope 2009 is a fabulous year for you.

Alien Cliches

I have discovered something incredible: aliens exist. And what’s more, they are frequent visitors to our planet.

How did I discover this fact? I watched a few TV shows and films. And for those of you who do not watch science fiction films or TV shows, here’s what I have discovered.

Most aliens speak English with an American accent. You can guarantee that if you encounter an alien speaking English with a British accent then you will be killed because he is an evil alien.

Aliens use clichés. In order to settle into our environment, they always use colloquialisms.

The only place on Earth ever invaded is the United States of America. Aliens are completely unaware of any country outside America. The leader of the entire planet is the President Of The United States Of America who makes unilateral decisions “on behalf of all mankind”. That makes me feel safe here in Manchester.

All aliens of the same race wear the same uniform. This helps us to identify them because they are all humanoid in appearance, that is, they are about the same height, build, shape and have the same hairstyles as us. Nevertheless, we need to be on guard. Some aliens have cranial ridges and funny teeth. Klingons and Ferengi are a prime example of this natural deviation.

Earth computers are one hundred percent compatible with all alien computers. In Independence Day the aliens were defeated by a computer virus. We “gave it a cold”. Don’t you just marvel at our ingenuity?

We can procreate with aliens. I’ve always wondered why Captain Kirk in particular had an almost overwhelming desire to kiss as many green coloured alien females as he possibly could.

Aliens are highly advanced technically but fundamentally stupid. How else do you explain Independence Day?

Aliens come to Earth to save us or to kill us. There is no other reason.

The home planets of the aliens that visit Earth are either exactly the same as Earth in terms of climate and atmospheric composition or are about to explode due to a cataclysmic natural disaster or nuclear war.

Alien soldiers are useless at shooting. They tend have sophisticated weaponry eons in advance of our own but cannot shoot straight to save their lives.

When aliens die, they vanish without a trace or turn into a puddle of green goo.

Alien females use the same cosmetics as Human females. Do they really have L’Oreal lipstick on Vulcan?

Aliens come from planets whose name contains no vowels, like “Qyzyrks”

Those aliens that are not humanoid are killing machines that bleed acid and have about seven million teeth distributed around four separate embedded mouths. Avoid these (or just look for a woman called “Ripley”).

Humans are fundamentally flawed but the aliens are purely logical. However, in the end we always taint them with our impurity and feel better for it.

Most aliens are telepathic or empathic - yet we still defeat them somehow.

Alien food is edible by humans. For example, Klingon food that is still alive can be readily consumed by members of Starfleet.

Aliens can kill humans and then become them.

No matter how wonderful an alien culture is, human culture is always better.

Evil humanoid alien men are brutally ugly. Evil alien humanoid women are drop dead gorgeous.

Alien spaceships can always be repaired by human engineers.

I hope that helps, especially if you live in America. Your country is in far more danger than anybody else’s. Still, you needn’t worry; the President will always save the day. Just don’t send any of them here.

Are People Really This Stupid????

I’ve always wondered just how stupid the human race is. I know that I’ve been stupid in the past, but the level of my stupidity is normal, that is, I make the same mistakes as most people.

However, I have discovered that there are people out there in all countries of the world for whom the word “stupid” would be a complement. These people are so brainless that manufacturers of certain products have had to add warnings so that these imbeciles do not actually harm themselves by using the product in an unsavoury way, thus harming themselves in the process and, I would guess, suing the manufacturers for not adding a suitable warning

Once again, I have surfed the internet on your behalf in order to illustrate how utterly and completely boneheaded some people actually are. I realise that there are many out there who believe that it is the manufacturers who are the thick ones, but if you take a closer look you can imagine “victims” of product misuse attempting to sue to hide their dumbness. As far as I know, all of the warnings below are genuine.

On a toner cartridge for a laser printer: Do not eat toner

Instructions on the label of a bottled drink: Twist top off with hands. Throw top away. Do not put top in mouth

On a lottery ticket: Do not iron

On a birthday card for a one year old: Not suitable for children under 36 months

On flower pot: Houseplants are for ornamental use and not to be consumed

On cough medicine for children: Do not drive or operate machinery after use

On a hair colour box: Do not use as an ice cream topping

On a bag of peanuts: Warning: contains nuts

On a hair dryer: Do not use in the shower

Also on a hair dryer: Do not use while sleeping

On a toilet brush: Do not use orally

On a microwave oven: Do not use for drying pets

On a novelty rock garden: Warning: Eating rocks may lead to broken teeth

On a push chair: Warning: Remove infant before folding for storage

On a superman costume: Warning: Wearing this garment does not enable you to fly

On a lighter: Do not expose flame to the face

On a box of sleeping pills: Warning: May cause drowsiness

On a TV remote control: Warning: Not dishwasher safe

On an electric cattle prod: For use on animals only

On an iPod shuffle: Warning: Do not eat iPod shuffe

On a bottle of pills for dogs: Use care when operating a car

On an iron: Do not iron clothes on the body

On a barbecue: Warning: this product gets hot

On a chainsaw: Do not attempt to stop the blade with your hand or genitals

Also on a chainsaw: Do not hold the wrong end of a chainsaw

And my favourite:

On a blowtorch: Not to be used for drying hair

I have a picture in my mind for all of them (I’m sorry, I can’t help it – I’m drawn to such things in a weird kind of way). I can imagine a woman with long hair trying to dry it using a blowtorch; I can picture a man discovering that the shirt he has just put on needs to be ironed; I can picture a man leaping off a tall building in a Superman cape.

Anyway, I must go. I need to round up the cats with my new cattle prod.

The Twelve Days Of Christmas

Christmas is a time for giving and I would just like to give to anybody who stumbles on this post a little gift. It is my own original version of “The Twelve Days Of Christmas” and is basically a list of the WORST gifts that any wife or girlfriend can give to her man for Christmas. If I receive anything like the gifts mentioned below they will end up either in the bin, at the back of a drawer or on the cats.

On the first day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the second day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the third day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the fourth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the fifth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the sixth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the seventh day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
seven knitted jumpers
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the eighth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
eight pairs of slippers
seven knitted jumpers
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the ninth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
nine romantic novels
eight pairs of slippers
seven knitted jumpers
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the tenth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
ten scenic paintings
nine romantic novels
eight pairs of slippers
seven knitted jumpers
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the eleventh day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
eleven flowered hankies
ten scenic paintings
nine romantic novels
eight pairs of slippers
seven knitted jumpers
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD

On the twelfth day of Christmas my girlfriend sent to me:
twelve photo albums
eleven flowered hankies
ten scenic paintings
nine romantic novels
eight pairs of slippers
seven knitted jumpers
six ballet tickets
five pairs of socks
four Hugh Grant films
three pink shirts
two Gok Wan books and
a signed Celine Dion CD