Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Hold Steady
As an opener you can't better "Raise a toast to St. Joe Strummer. I think he might've been our only decent teacher"
You'll do for me, Craig.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
Underage Drinking
So what is the issue? Is the problem that we used to drink Skol or Harp or mild that was about 3% alcohol whereas these days the tipple of choice is Stella? Even so, I find it difficult to get too worked up about the issue.
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day
Gone Baby Gone
Friday, May 30, 2008
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day
'Totnes Bickering Fair' from the CD CSI: Ambleside.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day
A ne’er-do-well of the highest accord.
I’ve got the supermarket sympathy vote,
I’ve got a ten year old doctor’s note."
'Blue Badge Abuser' from the CD CSI: Ambleside
Friday, May 16, 2008
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day
Multi-talented Sinitta, I just want to meet yer,
Cos I am St Peter, and you're going downstairs,
Along with cars that have pet names."
'Mars Ultras, You'll Never Make The Station' from a Peel Session.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Dilemma
My dilemma is this: when reporting the evening on the blog I don't want to put people off coming by being too negative about the event but I also want to make clear to the newcomers that this was not typical of the comedy night and that things are usually much better. I need to give this some thought.
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day
Slowly walks the wraith of me.
I read the news today, oh boy,
Svarc rejects new Layer terms."
'Fear My Wraith' from the CD Some Call It Godcore.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
CSI: Ambleside ...
In celebration here are two (count 'em) HMHB Lyrics of the Day.
Firstly the wonderful Carry On Biscuiting, double entendre that is 'Lord Hereford's Knob':
"As I camped out one evening to take the midnight air,
I heard a maiden grieving from somewhere over there,
Who is it you are mourning, for whom do you wear grey,
She said 'I pine for no one, I just can’t pay my way.
Ever since the chattering classes invaded Hebden Bridge,
And priced the likes of me and mine to the pots of the Pennine Ridge
To South East Wales I was forced to flee, and now I have no job.
That’s why tonight I’m sitting on top of Lord Hereford’s Knob'"
Secondly, from 'Petty Sessions':
"I ring up Dial-A-Pizza
I ring up Dial-A-Pizza
I ring up Dial-A-Pizza
And say, 'That’s not how I would spell “Hawaiian'".
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Middle Lane Drivers
"If Lane 1 is the truck lane, and Lane 3 is the BMW-with-front-foglights-on lane, then Lane 2 is that motoring no man's land. The kind of lane where the speeds are neither annoyingly slow nor frighteningly fast. The kind of lane where you can just switch on the cruise control and never have to worry about overtaking, moving over or really doing anything at all. Apart from looking in the glovebox to see if you have enough boiled sweets to last you until Skegness.
Lane 2 is the lane of the average. And as such, it is religiously populated by the kind of ape-brained simpleton who neither has the observation and anticipation needed to make progress in the inside lane or the talent to mingle with the high speed cut and thrust of the outside lane."
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day
But you can’t hide the fact that we used to play naked Twister."
'Ordinary to Enschede' from the CD Single Let's Not.
Sad
Friday, April 18, 2008
Vindaloo
The Best HMHB Lyrics Ever?
I thought it was time I posted the complete lyrics for possibly the best HMHB song ever - 'A Country Practice' from the CD Four Lads Who Shook The Wirral. So here goes:
"I feel like a beggar accepting alms, then being pelted with figs.
I study my steadily declining chart placings, they greet me with freezing cold inhospitality.
Hey, where did that bloke go who said I was vital?
I possess the mild air of a retail tobacconist, that’s because I’m a retail tobacconist,
But the mayflies on a Berkshire trout river would probably tell you a different story.
About ham-fisted diadems and momentary daydreams, of mythical dividends and illusory boardroom seats.
In the room festooned with fat beef certificates from county shows,
Duff Leg Bryn had drank too much again. Most of Wem was steering clear of him.
I’ve got no time for this twelfth consecutive Rose Bowl.
‘Cos at Sunday next at ten to four, I’ve got an invitation for
A trip around Katharine Hamnett’s warehouse, followed by dinner with David Emmanuel,
Who I can’t wait to tell about my dream in which the almost illegal Elton Welsby
Is dressed as a french maid on a moonless byway, licking his lips as he creeps ever closer
Fast falls the eventide. Fast falls the eventide
The public appearance of bitter ex-soap stars, who thought they could go on and do other things besides.
The Centre Court amusement at the ballboy’s mishap,
That bobbing up and down thing that they do at the Proms,
Opinionated weather forecasters telling me it’s going to be a miserable day.
Miserable to who? I quite like a bit of drizzle, so stick to the facts.
Channel Four presents “Blowjob”, introduced by Adrian and Sophie Horn
Who is of course one bloke with a pierced dick, who’s just had the nod from Planet 24.
Hear him say “surreal”, “bizarre”, “sad git”, “yes indeedy”, “completely and utterly”, “footy”, “anorak” and “respect” before whipping the audience up into doing the Time Warp.
Watch him take us live to The Queen’s Arse and Firkin,
Where Joseph Bloggs and his amazing Technicolor shellsuit are about to abort their Steely Dan routine,
And instead embark upon fifteen minutes of mantra-filled oompah,
Fifteen minutes of mantra-filled oompah,
Fifteen minutes of mantra-filled oompah.
Adrian-stroke-Sophie wants us, the viewers, to ring in and say how we think the punters will react.
These are a few of my favourite things…
I’m incredibly bored with the word “millennium”,
I’m with the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Millions now earmarked will later be wasted
"Her Majesty, Marvellous, Mother" the musical.
The fireworks lighting up the Houses of Parliament, death in Trafalgar Square,
Death in the armchair of cliched old spinsters who never been loved.
Every day is Australia day - “Sons and Daughters” and “Home and Away”.
And then the news comes on and the sound goes down,
‘Cos she can’t be bothered with all them politicians -
"They’re all just a bunch of flaming drongos".
She died with her telly on, eighty-seven and confused,
With not enough hospital beds ‘cos all the money’s been used
On the end of the century party preparations
And they reckon that the last thing she saw in her life was
Sting, singing on the roof of the Barbican
Sting, singing on the roof of the Barbican
T for Toxteth, T for Tennessee,
T for Toxteth, T for Tennessee,
T for Thatcher, that girl that made a wreck out of me.
Oh the lady labelled me an idle,
Oh the lady labelled me an idle,
Oh the lady labelled me an idle layabout.
Layabout,
Layabout."
Half Man Half Biscuit Lyric of the Day

"Inside back page, Radio Times, 'My Kind Of Day' with the actors and actresses…
"I get up about six, and I have a cold shower, switch on “Today”, Vitamin C,
Write some letters ’til quarter past eight, when Olivia takes Oliver to school,
It’s about an hour’s drive to Shepperton from ours,
So I go through the scripts in the back of the car
And if I get hungry I’ll eat a Multigrain bar.""
'Soft Verges' from the CD Four Lads Who Shook The Wirral.



