Sticky 13’s Banned Due to Health and Safety

  • I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.

POPULAR CALVERTON PUB GAME Sticky 13’s has been outlawed for health and safety reasons, it has been confirmed.

 

The game, which is basically bingo with playing cards, has been a regular feature at hostelries across the village for generations. But according to health inspectors those cards are ‘sticky’ for a rather unpleasant, and now potentially lethal, reason.

‘They’ve passed through thousands of pairs of hands,’ said Brian Gibbons from the Health and Safety Executive.

‘We’ve looked at cards from the Top Club, Geordie Club and The Admiral Wendy through a microscope. They’re minging. All manner of gunk on them. Bodily fluids, bits of chewing gum, fag ash and what looks to be a genuine hair sample from the rare Tianzhu white yak. How did that get there? It’s indigenous to Tibet.

‘It’s obvious. Playing stickies will expose you to deadly bacteria and may even kill you. Our research says you’re statistically more likely to die from playing stickies three times a week for twenty-one years then you are from necking a pint of Domestos. So stickies are banned, so there.’

The news has been met with utter indifference by pub landlords, most of whom have just bought new playing cards to replace the old ones.

Calverton looks forward to welcoming you soon for a pint, and a lovely game of Slidey 13’s.

 

Hand Car Wash Worker Accidentally Valets Horse

  • I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.

A SHORT-SIGHTED worker at Calverton’s Hand Car Wash has accidentally given a valet to a horse, it has been claimed.

Stella Pipette, a stable owner from somewhere up the posh bit of the village, was trotting past the rundown building that used to be a pub before it became a restaurant which closed and then became another restaurant which also closed astride Merlin, her prize-winning Thoroughbred, when the incident occurred on Wednesday.

 

‘A man in overalls gave a shrill whistle and waved Merlin towards him,’ said a traumatised Stella.

‘Before I could stop the fellow, he’d set about Merlin with soapy water and soft wash mitts. Merlin looked like he was enjoying it to start with, but soon reared up at the first swipe of abrasive sponge on the equine tallywhacker.’

A spokesman for the Hand Car Wash said: ‘You can be sure your horse is being cleaned using only the best quality Autosmart products.

‘While it’s clear that chemicals have seriously affected the eyesight of one of our employees on this occasion, causing him to inappropriately valet a Thoroughbred, we didn’t think it was fair that the employee was trampled for his genuine mistake and we will be seeking legal advice.’

The horse was unable to provide comment, because it’s a horse.

Admiral Rodney Now Admiral Wendy at Weekends

  • I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.

CALVERTON’S ADMIRAL RODNEY has something to tell the world, and he doesn’t care what people think.

‘I’ve always loved dressing up,’ Rodney reveals.

‘At first it was 18th century British navy uniform – there’s this whole thing about me supposedly defeating the French at the Battle of Saintes during the American Revolutionary War in 1782, but I’ve never been anywhere near a ship. I’m a plasterer from Strelley.

‘Anyway, I moved on from that to a Batman costume, then a Mexican bandit, and then one of those 118-118 athletes with the tight shorts and curly hair.

‘But it was only when I was Dame Dumpsy-Dearie in the Burton Joyce village panto that I realised how comfy a frock was and decided to make the lifestyle change. Yes, my mates do have a dig at me. But you get used to the stick – particularly the one I’m sat on all week.’

Admiral Rodney will now be Admiral Rodney from Monday to Friday, and will identify as Admiral Wendy at weekends.

Everards Brewery owns the pub, and is yet to confirm if it will adjust signage.

Village Bobby Returns to Calvo

  • I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.

THE CALVERTON VILLAGE BOBBY has been found safe and well and will return to duty next week.

The bobby, whose name ironically is Bobby, was discovered in the beer cellar at The Gleaners where he’d been tied up since August 1953 following a darts match.

 

It’s been a combination of beer from a leaky barrel, left-overs flung down from Sunday dinners and a proper old-fashioned Blighty spirit that’s kept him ticking over.

‘I look forward to serving the people of Calverton again,’ says Bobby.

‘I wasn’t one of the 20,000 front line police officers to lose their jobs to cutbacks since 2010 because everyone assumed I was dead and couldn’t be sacked. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m still an active employee. I may not be as quick on my feet as I used to be, because I’m 94.’

Bobby’s former widow, Gladys, is not his widow anymore and is his wife. However, these days she is also the wife of someone called Derek, which is expected to cause some confusion at bedtimes.

June 13th.

  • This article was written for This Week at St Mary’s – Sunday 18 June 2023.

ON EARTH as it is in heaven. Me, a scruffy infant school pupil, speaking those words for the first time. It was Mrs Barnden, or maybe Mrs Moses (I can’t remember), who taught us the Lord’s Prayer. The words of the entire prayer are burned indelibly into my brain now, some forty-four years and several thousand recitals later.

I’d always thought the line in the prayer made it our job to make earth be like heaven now. While we were still alive. Others think this line is not a now thing, more a future thing, foreseeing a time when every tear is wiped from our eyes, when there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain, when the old order of things has passed away.

I have a Christian faith. But the concept of there being a time when all earth is restored, a time where humanity will see paradise again, is one too enormous for my tiny brain to assimilate right now. The resurrection is mind blowing enough.

A promise of any such spectacular future doesn’t make living in the now easier. It doesn’t make the task of processing devastation and tragedy on our doorstep any simpler, or trying to be any kind of hope and gospel-bearer to people impacted by that devastation feel any less impossible, when the raw evidence of their eyes, ears, and senses may well lead them to say: ‘Where is God? And how can he be a loving God when there is this?’

This is Nottingham. June 13th 2023. I have no answers and words feel puny. Something happened at the heart of our city today, and it hurts so much. How glorious, how magnificent, this beautiful city is. How much stronger it is than what happened to it today, though it won’t remember it for a time.

The future doesn’t seem to matter today. Not to me. But I know in my gut that we should never stop fighting to make earth like heaven now, while real heaven waits in the wings.

Father?

On earth as it is in heaven, please.

You can start with Nottingham.

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