Jeremy is Vile.

Ah can’t fer the life o’ me figure it up.


Ah know’s am from Yorkshire Born n Bread, strong in’t arm an thick in ‘t ‘ead like, but how foowks, can sit on’t backsides watching that , Jeremy Vile bloke, I dern’t no, daft apaths.

All of ‘em on’t show are as queer as thee an’ me, and sometimes, Ah’m not so sure a’baht thee.

Thah’s fowk, thah dern’t know who thah’ Dah is, fowk, that think there brothers are their mothers, mothers who’s daughters are there sisters, their bainrs need a bloody test to find out who they belong’s to. Gawless gawp ‘eds, lorra of’em.

Bald as a blether o’ lard , some of ‘em, thin as lat’s sit on’t backsides all day doin’ nowt, bone idol lazy apaths!!

Time thi’ all sorted thissens out, gorra off thi’ backsides, stop the mitherin, ’and find thisenns, a bloody job.

Bloody X Factor

 

Thah cannot understand why fowk  arr ol chunterin’ on a’baht X Factor. Bloody rubbish if ya ask me.

‘em  judges aint gorra clue what thah’s on abah’t. I mean yan o ‘ems from Australia f’ crissakes, ‘ow an’errth does she no ‘owt?.’Yud think  some yan from Yorkshire, wod av a go, at least they  talk’s sense. I’m no’ even gonna mention that lass from ‘Tyne, bonny bairn  tha’h.

Nah thah’s gorra admit, that that Cowell bloke ain’t dense, he’s garrin on a bit annal. Aye I remember , ’im prancin’abah’t on ‘top o’t pops, dressed up as a dog, he wah, daft sod. An tha’h poncey one with the girl’s name Louise o’ summat, well tha’h no what fowks say abah’t ‘is lot.

T’s   contestants thah get me. Thah’s  th’ lass thah leeks like Boy George, when he wah a youn’un,  or   Hylda Baker ,I can’t mek mi mind up. Gorra face like a bulldog chewin’ a wasp Jerking around on ‘t stage, leek she’s gorra ferret dah’n her britches, Can’t sing a song all’t wey though wi’ out ‘ spoiling ‘t tune, w’i  owt her thinking sh’s Sammy Davis Jr, or summat.  Lass needs fattening up if ya ask me annal.

I’m just chuffed thah’ that bloody Wagner’s blokes  gone, worra a sackless sod he wa’h, a bloody foreigner annall,  dah’n rite pisspotical, if this ask mi, got mi back up propa he did. Frozen shoulder m’ass.

Then thah’s that lad wi’t flat cap, think’s ‘es Colin Crompton, ‘it’s em high notes like thah’s sommat chewing on his’ tackle .

                                                                   By' eck uncanny arr wot

                     She wah’ my favourite thah big lass err that worked on ‘t till in tesco, 

real grand shi wah, like Shirley Bassey in a tent, rite up my street. A propa woman,

 w’i summat to grab ol’orr.

T’ bi honest i’ll be chuffed wen t’s all ower, It’s nah’owt special, an the ‘doant awf drag it owt. Thah’ll only b e yan winner. An thah’s Cowell, an ‘ e dah’nt need mo’er brass .

                                                      Wish f'll Bloody Thinking

                                                             Greedy A'path.

New Year Thoughts.

Thah’s sick Ah’m s o this middle aged spread. T’s time fer me to do summat a’baht it. In’t new year , am off on’t diet,  na’h moor puddin’ ner cakes fer me.

Nah thah’s kiddin’ thissen, thah likes thah grub to much, nah if thah’s serious abah’t  loisin sum weight, t’ proper road is ter goa on a fast, thi mud as weall do t’job reight. Thah’s gonna gi’ up suppin annawl,  thah’s why I’ ‘av’   gorra  a bit o’  a middle aged spread, but t’flab’s gerrin’ varry unsightly ter see, t’as gorra go, thah’s ner more t’ be sed.

 A thort a mite tek up jogging, but I denr’t  see  a’s got thi’ stamina fer it.   p’raps  ride on ‘t bike, or goa  dahn baths fer a swim ,Tha’ll soon loose a few pahnd  , after fost mile o’ too?

A knaw  t’s nah gawin’ be easy, A’ll  get back inta trim, mite, join t’ gym, but a’ knows tha’ll end up paggered , or skint.

T’s a long way off ‘till , thi meks a start, so thi  will carry on, fer nah. Cos I am garrin on a bit, and resolutions are med to b’ broken.

World Cup.

Bye eck, thah's nor ad time to be puttin' owt on eer, thah's bin fah t' busy watchin yon football.

Fooking Germans, they bombed arr chippy thah nah's.Thi berra nah win t'day.

Christmas day at arr 'ouse.

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     Packed t' rafters it wor.

          ' appy Christmas to thi all.

Christmas time allus reminds me o' fowks long since gone.

Mi Mah 'specially, dernt nah worra wud 'a done wi'owt er. Salt o't 'erth shi wor.Allus doin' summat shi wor, 'cleanin'dahning arr dads socks, cookin' cleanin', mitherin' oeer t'bairns, nivver stopped she dahn't, god bless 'er , oh how I miss 'err.

Thah wor good timers back then, Christmas day at 'arr 'ouse. Wi all 'ad t' be theeahr, packed t'rafters it wah, allus full o' good cheeahr.

Pullin' crackers, an laffin' at all daft jokes that wor in 'em. Crackin' nuts, wi nutcracker, that wor only used at Christmas. Oranges stuffed dahn socks, hung up on 't mantlepiece, propa smashin. 

Smell o' 't turkey and roast tatties waftin' owt o' t kitchen, made thi feel maffted wi all t' 'eat comin' owt o' t oven,  i can smell it nah.

When wi'd cleared up, mi and mi ma’h , would av’ a tipple o' sherry, whilst all t' men, went dahn t' pub fer a jar o' two.

Thah wor allus summat t' do back then, 'ad nowt t'do wi' moonay, wi'all 'ad nowt back then, all o' us went wi'aht, but wi' di'nt moap abaht, nor like thi do thissdays " wot thi nivver 'ad , thi nivver missed " mam used to say, she wah reite an'all.

Wi wor quite 'appy either lakin' abaht wi' t' monopoly or watchin', Ken Dodd,  Morcambe & Wise, Tommy Trinder,or if wi wor lucky, wi wud watch Bob Monkehouse 

on ' t London Palladium christmas special.

All gone far t' soon, them days, so mind that thi leeks after me mam up there 'God, an'all 'em special 'ard workin' fowks thats gone, wish em all Merry Christmas, and thanks fer all thi done.

Grandah's Credit Crunch

 Grandpa

 Mi, dah's knocking on a bit, still 'a likes 'im coming round fer a brew, likes t'tell 'is tales.


"When I were a lad, our mam would send us down to t'corner store wi' a shillin',and I'd come back wi' five pounds o'potatoes, two loaves o' bread, three pint o'milk,a pound o'cheese,a packet o'tea,an 'alf a dozen eggs. Yer can't do that nowadays. Too many fookin' security cameras."

Arr Norma, ad 'eard it all afooar, yawning 'err ed off she wah,  "Bah, granda' went on, all this clap trap, abaht credit crunch, thah dunnno't know meaning o 't word, nooah brass ".

"By gum, Ah'ad summat on when ah, wor a lad, browt up wi' nowt wi wor, aye, wi wor that 'ungry mi belly, thaw't mi throit wor cut, nah such thing as luxuries fer us, wi wor lucky, if wi gorra kippa fer us tea, thin wi all 'ad to share it, wi 'ad t' rub kippa's backbone, on 't slice o't stale bread, so wi all 'ad summat 't eat. Woe betite us if wi  turned us nose up, wi'd 'a gorra reite tounge lashing, wi' wud ". 


"Nah, thah dun't know 't meaning o't word credit crunch, not this days ".

 

Shaz & Mave

                          Shaz & Mave                       

             ( Dahn bother 't book 'em )

By gum, wi' 'erd em yellin at each other frem one corner at t' pub t'other.

Nivver erd owt, like it either, language fit fer pits,  yu'd thawt arr Bert had lost his pidgins way thah wah carrin on.

Women an' all, well i thinks they wah women.  Shaz & Mave thi call 'thissen's. Singers, thi reckon,  all gone wrong it ad, nobody liked  'em. 



A cockney tribute band, put on special to bring a bit of atmosphere, to ' Oss & Fodder, trying t' bring village together more t's Landlord. Trying to please em downshifters, mek em  feel moor ' t' home.

Even put plates of jellied eels o 't tables, and much t'arr Bert's disgust, the  usual copy of his Pidgeon fanciers monthly & Thoroughbred ferrets gazette,  wah nowhere t be sin, 'ad bin replaced, wi' copies of Hello magazine, & and  Counry Life.



Bloody terrible, they wir, proper odd,  all short hair, and dungarees, a couple they arr annall, adopted a couple o' kids , cah'nt get mi head round that one. Still thah's nowt as queer a fowk.


Started off singing, Rabbit, Rabbit, well, owd George, t's a bit mutton jeff, thawt, a rabbit 'ad come in, just abaht to reach fer 'is shotgun he wah silly apath.



"Thas's got smashin thighs, not bad eyes, tha's norra a bad lass, thah's gorra a lot thah's no doubt, but thah's thinkin, o' blowin' you owt. Cos thah nor stops rabbitin on. "Rabbit, Rabbit ".


Thah's gor smashin 'air, were a smashin' pair, nah thah' dunno mind thi 'avin' a chat, but thah's gorra stop givin' it that. Well thah wah it, Landlord, add enough, slung em owt. Gerroff he said, it's crap.


Arr, Bert ses, "if thah 't  sort o songs thi sin, dahn south, thi can leave em at Ol' Bull & an' Bush ".


Tha's 'appy wi mi Ilkla Mooar Bah 'at.