Tag: Humour

The Parish Council Minutes #4

Posted on by CalvertonNotts in British, Comedy, Fiction, Politics, Satire
  • More utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘Still better organised than my garage.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: TUESDAY 19 MARCH 2019

THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.

Item 1

Some Spam, yesterday

Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said official email addresses had been set up for Councillors and these should now be used for all business correspondence. Councillor Watterson said he was worried about spam, and getting emails about pills to ‘help a chap out in the bedroom.’

Councillor Boothby said she knew some of these pills were expensive and had told her Lazlo not to get any more until the price of Viagra falls.

Councillor Dean said he’d gone on holiday to Viagra Falls with his wife.

Councillor Pritchard said he was also worried about spam, because of his allergy to processed pork.

Item 2

The Chairman welcomed Councillor Lathers to the meeting following her absence at the last two meetings due to severe migraines which lawyers had now formally confirmed were unlikely to have been caused by the head injuries sustained by Councillor Lathers from the heavy stapler thrown at her by Councillor Boothby at the last meeting Councillor Lathers had been to.

Councillor Watterson said if you wrote all that down in the minutes it would be a very long sentence.

Councillor Boothby said someone else she knew had just got a very long sentence.

The Chairman said his son Gary was very sorry about that.

Councillor Lathers said she and Councillor Boothby had agreed to put aside their differences, now that she’d put aside Councillor Boothby’s husband. Both Councillors said they just wanted to work together for the good of Shufflehampton and the wider community. The Council applauded them, suspiciously.

Brian, back from hospital

Item 3

Councillor Lathers said she’d complained about the recent ladies’ night at the Cow and Banjo. On hearing that attractive male waiters were serving food at tables half naked, she’d assumed it would be the top halves which were naked. This had not been the case, and now she couldn’t look at a sausage plait in quite the same way.

Councillor Boothby said she’d also complained about the ladies’ night after driving her 19-year-old son Brian, a professional male model, to A and E to be treated for pastry burns to his tallywhacker.

The Chairman stated that colleagues should not have attended this sordid event because the Council’s reputation was already crumbling. ‘A bit like the sausage plait,’ said Councillor Lathers.

Councillor Tomkins said she thought everyone was taking this far too seriously and perhaps, in this case, laughter was the best medicine. Councillor Boothby said not for the pastry burns, because this was Savlon.

Councillor Watterson said he quite liked going to the Cow and Banjo. The pub had started a weekly Scrabble club which meant he no longer needed to play with himself.

Item 4

Councillor Dean once again reminded colleagues that with elections on the way it was important to safeguard the Parish Council’s reputation even though everyone knew where the bodies were buried. Councillor Tomkins said yes, these were no longer in the shallow grave under the cricket pavilion.

Councillor Dean confirmed he’d been using a metaphor again and everyone relaxed, apart from Councillor Tomkins.

Item 5

Under ‘Any Other Business’, the Council agreed to support the planning application to build new houses on the land currently occupied by Shufflehampton Cricket Club. Councillor Dean, a longstanding critic of the plans, confirmed he no longer saw any reason why the development could not go ahead.

The meeting ended at 8.01 pm with yummy flapjacks.

copyright (c) carterbloke 2019

Minutes of previous meetings

Photo credits

The following photo used under Creative Commons licence.

Other photo:

The Parish Council Minutes #3

Posted on by CalvertonNotts in British, Comedy, Fiction, Politics, Satire
  • More utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘A shabby attempt to discredit my dad.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: THURSDAY 7 MARCH 2019

THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.

Item 1

Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said he’d stopped adding silly words into the minutes to check if Parish Councillors were reading them. He said he’d thought about replacing some of the words with rhyming words but the Chairman had told him not to do this or he’d go back to cleaning the toilets at Shufflehampton Pleasure Centre.

Item 2

Councillor Watterson apologised for not being present at the meeting. He was physically present, but had his mind on other things so wouldn’t be listening.

Item 3

The Council sent its good wishes to Councillor Lathers for a speedy recovery following her admission to hospital for treatment for head injuries sustained in a fight with Councillor Boothby at a previous Council meeting.

The Chairman said he’d received a letter from the firm of solicitors acting for Councillor Lathers and it looked like this was going to get very messy. Councillor Boothby said that Lathers should just have kept her mitts off her Lazlo, the brazen drab.

The Chairman asked the Clerk not to record anything to do with this in the minutes, at all, under any circumstances, and the Clerk agreed.

Rachel Riley, yesterday

Item 4

Councillor Boothby said that as suggested at the last meeting she’d asked the actor Tom Hardy to open the Village Fete. She suspected his current commitments to the Mad Max movie franchise were why he’d not responded to her tweet yet, and promised to keep the Chairman informed.

Councillor Dean said why not ask the charming Rachel Riley from Countdown to open the fete instead because, as far as he was aware, she wasn’t in any Mad Max films. Councillor Pritchard said this was a good idea and someone should approach Rachel Riley, but not him obviously, because of that restraining order.

Councillor Tomkins said she’d be happy to approach Rachel Riley but if she did agree to open the fete Councillor Pritchard’s restraining order would stop him from coming and who else would judge Shufflehampton’s Firmest Marrow. Councillor Pritchard said maybe he could just borrow a small tent and hide in it if Rachel walked past.

Councillor Boothby said Councillor Pritchard was a deeply unpleasant and creepy man who needed help. Councillor Dean said that if Councillor Pritchard needed help, he had a tent.

Item 5

Councillor Boothby complained that sexism was obviously rife in the Council. Councillor Dean said this was double standards because how was it okay for Councillor Boothby to openly simper at the prospect of buff young Tom Hardy sampling her prize-winning dumpsy dearie, and not okay for them to hold a torch for Rachel off Countdown. Boothby said this was different, because with her and Tom Hardy, there was no restraining order. Councillor Pritchard said not for the time being anyway. There was a cracking sound, and he cried out in agony.

Councillor Tomkins said that whoever opened the fete, the Council should avoid false advertising. For example, she’d taken two pounds of fresh raspberries, some caster sugar and some lemon juice to the function room at the Cow and Banjo last night, only to be told by the hairy man playing the drums it wasn’t that kind of jam session.

The meeting ended at 8.01 pm, when the ambulance turned up.

copyright (c) carterbloke 2019

Minutes of previous meetings

Photo credits

  • Rachel Riley c/o Wikimedia Commons.

The Parish Council Minutes #2

Posted on by CalvertonNotts in British, Comedy, Fiction, Politics, Satire
  • An occasional series of utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘A frankly shocking indictment of institutionalised malpractice and ineptitude.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: Thursday 28 February 2019

THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.

Item 1

Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, noted that all Councillors were present apart from Councillor Lathers who had a migraine. The Council sent its good wishes to Councillor Lathers for a speedy recovery, apart from Councillor Boothby who’d thrown the stapler at Councillor Lathers causing the migraines.

Councillor Tomkins said that when she’d had migraines she’d got help from a complementary therapist. Councillor Boothby said her therapist hadn’t been very complimentary when she’d accused him of trying to give her a big snog.

The Chairman said his son Gary was very sorry about that.

Item 2

Councillor Pritchard sent his apologies, not for failing to attend the meeting (because he was at the meeting), but because of his poor self-awareness and casual xenophobia. He wasn’t proud of these things, but was now too set in his ways to try to view the world any differently and perfectly content for younger generations to bear the consequences of his ill-conceived and inherently selfish decisions.

Councillor Morgan seconded this, even though it didn’t need seconding.

Item 3

The Chairman said he’d seen some embarrassing mistakes in official documents and asked if the Clerk used spell check. The Clerk said he did, but that spell check wouldn’t pick up any instance of an intended word being replaced by a similarly spelled word where that similarly spelled word was a legitimate English word and was correctly spelled. The Chairman said all this was fine, he just didn’t want anyone looking silly ahead of the forthcoming Council erections.

Councillor Dean said Councillors should present a united front in public even though they all knew where the bodies were buried. Councillor Tomkins said yes, in the shallow grave under the cricket pavilion.

Councillor Dean confirmed he’d been using a metaphor and everyone relaxed, apart from Councillor Tomkins.

Tom Hardy, yesterday

Item 4

The Councillors were asked to declare any interests. Councillor Boothby said the actor Tom Hardy. The Chairman said this wasn’t what ‘declaring interests’ usually meant, but that his wife agreed with Councillor Boothby about Tom Hardy, particularly since Mad Max: Fury Road.

Councillor Dean said Tom Hardy was a credit to the acting profession and couldn’t the Council give him an opportunity to open the Village Fete. Councillor Boothby said she’d be very happy to give him one.

Councillor Watterson said why couldn’t the Village Fete sponsor the latest Bob Geldof charity project as advertised at the local Tesco. Councillor Tomkins said she’d check, but was sure that ‘Dishwasher Rinse Aid’ was a detergent product and not a fundraiser.

Councillor Morgan seconded this, even though it didn’t need seconding.

Item 5

Councillor Morgan left the meeting, realising he was a Parish Councillor in another village and had come to this meeting by mistake.

Under ‘Any Other Business’, the Chairman asked the Clerk if he had ceased his irritating practice of adding silly words into the minutes to check if any of the Councillors had read them. The Clerk said he had.

The meeting ended at 8.01 pm hubba hubba yum yum.

copyright (c) carterbloke 2019

Minutes of previous meetings

Photo credits

  • Tom Hardy c/o Wikimedia Commons.

The Parish Council Minutes #1

Posted on by CalvertonNotts in British, Comedy, Fiction, Politics, Satire
  • The first in a series of utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘A searing insight into the cut-and-thrust world of rural politics.’ MADE UP QUOTE
Meeting Date: Friday 22 February 2019

THE CHAIRMAN convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.

Item 1

Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, said there was no point in writing minutes because the Parish Councillors never read them. He knew this because he’d been adding in silly words recently to see if anyone would notice wibbly wobbly dingly danglies.

Mister Keenly was thanked for raising the issue but asked to behave in future shooby dooby dooby.

Item 2

Jennifer Lopez, yesterday

The Council considered whether its image was ‘funky enough’ for younger people to be engaged. Councillor Boothby said younger people should be engaged, particularly before getting married. Councillor Tomkins said that if it made things less boring why couldn’t the minutes refer to Council members in a showbiz way based on their initials like ‘J-Lo’ for the lovely Miss Jennifer Lopez. Many were supportive of this idea, but not Councillor Tim Watterson.

Councillor Pritchard said Parish Council business was often quite tedious so it was a waste of time trying to funk things up. The Clerk said that if the complaints he’d dealt with in the last month were anything to go by, the Council was already very good at this.

It was decided there were to be no new monikers for Council members. Councillor Boothby said a delightful Polish woman called Monica did her cleaning on Thursdays.

Item 3

Councillor Lathers put a motion to the Council that the gardener employed to maintain the village hall lawns be sacked after her pet dogs were cruelly smothered in horse manure. Councillor Lathers said that when she’d asked the gardener to put fertiliser on the borders she hadn’t meant her border collies.

Councillor Pritchard, smirking, asked Councillor Lathers if she was sure they were a pair of border collies and not a couple of shih tzus. Councillor Lathers replied that Skimpy Foo and Nang Nang had been deeply traumatised by the whole unsavoury experience and that Councillor Pritchard was an insensitive, but nonetheless very attractive, man.

The motion was carried.

Item 4

The Chairman said that attendance at meetings had recently been patchy and asked Councillors to catch up on any outstanding matters. Councillor Dean said he needed time to fully consider the motions. Councillor Boothby said her GP had fully considered her motions last week and there was probably a lack of bran in her diet. The Chairman asked if there was any other business. Councillor Boothby said not since last Tuesday, but thank you for asking.

Item 5

Councillor Boothby said wasn’t it terrible that her son Tony was getting the sack from his gardening job for a harmless prank with that horse poo and wasn’t Councillor Lathers a bitter and twisted old bat who was also having an affair with her husband.

Councillor Boothby threw a heavy stapler at Councillor Lathers, drawing blood. The pair quickly became embroiled in a fight, causing damage to each other and several of the soft furnishings. Councillor Dean tried to intervene but was punched hard in the face.

Given the somewhat controversial nature of the matters discussed at the meeting, the Chairman asked the Clerk of the Council to ensure the minutes were sanitised for inappropriate language.

The meeting ended at 8.01 pm fuzzy monkey nik naks.

copyright (c) carterbloke 2019

Photo credits

  • Miss Jennifer Lopez c/o Wikimedia Commons.

World’s Worst Ghost [Short Story]

Posted on by CalvertonNotts in Fiction
  • This short story was first published in Calverton’s ‘Village Gazette’ in March 2019. Any resemblance to persons alive, dead (or undead) is entirely coincidental. Obviously.
Gary, in 1973, before the tractor hit him

‘I’M NOT asking for much,’ complained Gary. ‘I just want to terrify people. I want to see gut-wrenching dread in their eyes. Pure, undiluted, cardiac-inducing fear.’

Richard studied the figure sitting opposite him with weary indifference. In fairness, Richard held himself to high ethical standards. His professional integrity would never allow him to contravene the code of practice in ordinary circumstances, but it was obvious here that no amount of counselling from any seasoned psychologist could help with a case as hopeless as Gary’s. Placating him would just prolong the inevitable. Gary needed some home truths, and he needed them now.

‘I have something to say, Gary,’ said Richard.

He paused, realising just how much his temple was throbbing.

‘Just a moment, Gary. Would you mind?’ he mumbled.

‘By all means,’ replied Gary.

‘Thank you.’

Richard carefully removed his own head from his shoulders and placed it neatly on the couch next to him. The relief was instant. Richard didn’t know how he’d ever managed to walk around each day with his head permanently attached. Doing that just gave you migraines. He recalled the severe headache he’d had on the day he’d ceased to be employed as an advisor to Queen Elizabeth the First, the same day he’d also ceased breathing. Lizzie could be very unforgiving when the inner circle let her down, the mardy cow.

Gary watched Richard enviously from behind the silly-looking white sheet he wore over his head.

Not to be confused with ‘Actually Headless Rick’

Just look at him, thought Gary. He’s a proper ghost. Genuinely, effortlessly, frightening. By comparison, I’m …

‘The world’s worst ghost,’ said Richard. ‘That’s you, that is, Gary. You need to know that you’re terrible. Not ‘terrifying’ terrible, heavens no. You’re about as terrifying as your average fluffy hamster. I mean ‘complete and total pants’ terrible. But we need to deal with it, Gary, so there can be healing. As ghosts come, Gary, there are brilliant and amazing ghosts, and there are utterly rubbish ghosts. Rubbish ghosts like you, Gary. You’re an embarrassment to the afterlife.’

There was a stunned silence as Gary tried, and failed, to process this. Richard had never spoken to him this way before. The words had been calculated, cutting, hurtful.

His views finally out in the open, Richard sighed with relief. It was rare, as a counsellor, for him to find his own words therapeutic. He wondered if he should start paying himself by the hour.

Oh no! Gary had started blustering again. More denial. Richard could feel his hackles rising.

‘But I can do it, Richard,’ Gary retorted. ‘All I need is a different costume …’

‘For pity’s sake, Gary!’ Richard snapped, jerking so violently he almost knocked his bonce into a dustbin. ‘We know that’s not possible! When a dead person becomes a ghost, they’re destined to always wear the clothes they died in. You were killed by a moving tractor, while running across the road, pretending to be a ghost. You were wearing that sheet over your head at the time, so now you’re spending eternity as a real ghost who looks like a pretend ghost. These are the facts, Gary.’

Gary wasn’t going down without a fight.

‘But that’s not fair!’ he gibbered. ‘Maybe I can do other things to make me scarier, like wail a bit, or rattle some chains. I’m already brilliant at climbing into the back of taxis at night-times. They proper brick it when they see me. The drivers are that scared, they won’t drive down Georges Lane after dark. All because of me.’

Richard’s head raised a quizzical eyebrow, then threw a sideways glance at Richard’s hand as it quickly scribbled down three words on a parchment.

Transferable. Behaviour. Traits.

The White Lady (quite a bit scarier than Gary)

‘George’s Lane, you say?’ enquired Richard, suspiciously. ‘George’s Lane in Calverton, Nottinghamshire?’

There was something about Gary’s story that didn’t ring true. The figure in the white sheet shifted uncomfortably in his chair, sensing the game was up.

‘Er. Yes, that’s the one,’ murmured Gary.

‘It’s just that I’ve heard, Gary,’ continued Richard, ‘that the taxi cab hauntings are the work of a restless spirit called The White Lady. They are emphatically not the work of the figure known colloquially by the residents of the village as The Prat In The Sheet.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ sulked Gary, avoiding Richard’s gaze.

‘I’m saying, Gary, that you have just taken the credit for something that all the available evidence clearly shows … somebody else did.’

Gary stared at Richard, annoyed that he’d been rumbled. Richard carried on. The new plan was in full swing now.

‘Could I show you these, Gary? I’d welcome your views.’

Gary studied the two photographs Richard had passed to him.

‘Who are these people?’ Gary asked, warily.

‘Were you buried or cremated?’ enquired Richard. ‘Just before we go any further.’

‘Buried. As far as I’m aware.’

‘Mm. Good,’ pondered Richard. ‘I mean, it’s not a straightforward ritual, Gary. We’d probably need a goat, a banana and some Morris dancers. But we should be able to reanimate you. You’d be a zombie and not a ghost, obviously, but then you would be rid of the sheet.’

‘I’m listening,’ said Gary. This actually sounded rather promising.

A deluded toff in a silly hat, 200 years ago

‘I have to say it worked rather splendidly with these two,’ said Richard. ‘Person in the first photo’s a former Chancellor of Balliol College, Oxford. Died at the turn of the nineteenth century. He’s never really shaken off those stuffy old Victorian values, has our Jacob.’

‘Oh,’ said Gary, still none-the-wiser.

‘As for the second photo, that’s Theresa. Hanged in Salem in 1693 on suspicion of witchcraft. These days she’s wishing they’d given her job to Boris.’

‘Who’s Boris?’ asked Gary.

‘The point I’m trying to make, Gary, is that you’d be ideally suited.’

‘Suited? To what, for goodness sake?’ cried Gary. He was quite beyond confused now.

‘Several ghosts have made the transition,’ Richard went on. ‘They walk freely, in plain sight, among the living every day. Gary, before you decide, let me ask you three simple questions. Do you have a soul?’

‘No. I’m a ghost.’

‘Do you have any real grip on reality?’

‘None whatsoever.’

‘Are you keen on hardship and suffering?’

‘Only other people’s.’

‘Then bingo!’ declared Richard. ‘There’s a future for you in British politics.’

Richard didn’t need to wait long for this penny to drop.

‘Oh! Oh … get in!’ howled Gary, excitedly, jumping to his feet and punching the air in triumph. Of course! How had he not seen this all along?

‘Where … where do I start?’ Gary ventured, barely able to contain himself. ‘A job in the cabinet, perhaps?’

‘Not straight away,’ said Richard, with a wink. ‘But if you’re passing off other people’s successes as your own, let’s start you off as a Parliamentary candidate for the Tories.’

copyright (c) carterbloke 2019

Photo credits

The following photo (with effects added) used under Creative Commons licence.

Other photos: