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@ Sheringham Community Paper Issue No 52 - Friday 19th August 2005 - Choose another issue
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Sheringham Community PaperHail comrades of Sheringham! And yes yet another summer season is upon us. Ah yes I can see it now, hot sultry days, hot dogs and chips and best of all hot pants! But only if you sit on the concrete wall in the sun on the prom. Mind you the idea of all those lovely ladies legs does draw a cheeky grin to my old and withered mush. But moving on. Now then SUCCESS. Yes, dare I claim a modest yet satisfying victory over the story of the yellow lines down Wyndham Street, or should I have said lack of them. But since the last issue, some greater power than we shall ever know must have listened to us lesser, more common sense natured creatures and sensibility has been restored. Don't you just love the power of the pen? With success firmly on our minds on the one hand I must just take a few moments to mention the other hand's less successful effort, today, by yet another attempt to plunge our Capital city into chaos. As I write this, the news is drifting over our screens about another bombing (attempt) in London. I feel however we must all pay tribute to all the emergency agencies that deal with these sort of things with the utmost professionalism and calm that must and should be the envy of the world. It installs faith in us all that we have to fight to remodel the minds of these radicals so as to remove any future threats to peace and harmony in this beautiful multi-racial/faith society that we should be proud to call the United Kingdom. So Craigy boy is, as I write still in the Big Brother house, and the place is beginning to hot up, not unlike the weather. Craig must be the envy of millions of lads up and down the country. Whilst getting a delectable snog from a lush, false boobed Irish lady in the jacuzzi, what a shame it was all a bit of a waste really as Craig had already pledged his undoing love for his other house-mate Anthony. Who's 70's dancing physique and groovy moves seems to have turned him on. However that boys "train" was heading for a completely different set of points. If you get my drift? Leaving poor Craig a little down in the mouth. Rather like this column is heading if I don't hurry up and change the subject.It's Carnival time again! And I can't wait. Yes it's that time of year you can all join in with the fun and jump on the back of the Dunstable float and get absolutely blotto! And if that doesn't appeal perhaps some of the other events might excite your flights of fancy. We have our annual pantomime horse race, where equally drunken duos try to remember which end of the costume they're in and then stagger like mad for the finishing post. Stopping of course for a quickie in the Robin Hood. Or stop for a drink and brunch if they prefer. Also new this year we have the landladies stakes. Although technically to be politically correct that should be landpersons stakes or should that be loins, oh well it doesn't matter. Picture them if you will at the starting line, all dolled up in their frilly frocks, straw hats; true staunch buxom bosomed wenches in enormous bloomers, ready for the off. And when the men have had their go the ladies might like to join in the frolics as well. Each contender must be carrying a suitable suitcase, although why that should be eludes at present. Not only that, but surely all the town's landladies might be a bit hard pressed to find the time as this event coincides with one of their busiest times of the year. So one must wonder if the entrant numbers will be that numerical that we have to call in the services of the Chancellor of the Exchequer and the tax credit office to sort it all out. Have no fear though you can count on what ever they do decide they'll end up taking back more than you started with. Just like our shoes do from a walk down the high street. Please, please can we have a steam clean! If something isn't done soon Channel Four will be hovering around with a new programme: How clean are your streets? And it's going to take more than a bit of lemon juice and vinegar in a bucket of light soapy water to get these grimy pavements up to scratch. Of course I ought to be constructive and to give back a little dignity to the community a few asbo kids might like to take on the job to keep them out of mischief.However in view of recent events that train of thought is somewhat unworkable as any supervision would now be construed as contravening their basic human rights. These little anarchists now it seems have the power to ultimate freedom no matter what. Long gone, alas, are the days where the local friendly plod would politely keep any misdemeanours in check with a clip round the ear and marched the offender home to dad. Whereupon he or she was sent to bed with a flea in ones shell like, minus his or her tea if they were lucky. And for those that weren't so lucky, some dads were a little bit handier with their belts. That can't happen now of course as most roving coppers don't even know the local street names, never mind the names and addresses of their local community. Never mind eh, I for one still firmly believe that it's my human right to live a peaceful life, communicate with my neighbours, have a pint or two in the Two Lifeboats, together with a kebab on the way home, without being sworn, spat and leered at, and made to feel utterly alien in my own town of birth by a load of discourteous, ignorant and improperly behaved in general people (not all young). Now thanks to this kid, we might never ever feel that the law is on the side of folk who's working taxes go towards the very places these thugs try to stop us all enjoying. Someone has got to start saying No or else there's no point in there being any laws at all. So fetch me my splif with my three bigamous marriages, a stack of racist, sexist and Zionistic magazines, full of hate, sordid sex and pornography take it onto the streets, drink drive, kick a few heads in, rob a bank or two, happy slap an old dear for good measure and lets party! Take care now. Vic.

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