A Postcard From Withernsea

I had a lovely year manifesting myself through the corporeal form of my nephew Michael. And there is a lot of written material that he needs to get off his arse and start editing into something coherent, like he ruddy well said he would. But just as we were getting into it all he only went and decided that he “needs a little time to think things over.” I turned around to him and said “its funny how quick the milk turns sour, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” And when he couldn’t think of a decent reply, I added “I don’t know about a little time…  You need a little room… For your big head”  Then I poked him in the ribs a couple of times and repeated “Don’t you?” while I did it.

Any road, you are dead a ruddy long time. And I’m not wasting too much of it hanging around waiting for him to get his act together. So I thought that I might as well spend some of it somewhere nice. So I am currently lodging in Withernsea, in the olden days, well before that useless lump of a nephew of mine was born.

But I know that there are a few people missing my pearls of wisdom, and it has been nice to hear from them. So I persuaded him to don the tights once again, just so that I could send you this postcard. Luckily, he still keeps a bottle of sherry on top of the cupboard next to the fridge, so it was worth the effort.

He reckons he will get around to that editing with me some time in the not too distant future, but at the moment, its all about that ruddy silly pop group of his. He is spending all his time  time cataloguing and writing about the 50 songs he has written over the past few years. And he says that he doesn’t need my help with that thank you very much.

Charming! Seeing as I am the one who trained his ruddy fingers to type out five hundred words in less than an hour, and trained his ruddy brain to make sure that at least three hundred of them weren’t complete shite.

And, to add insult to injury, he has decided not to serialise any of that stuff on the internet, because he wants it to have a ruddy impact when he releases it to a world that doesn’t care. He was born too late that one. Hardly anyone bothers reading more than a couple of hundred words at a time these days, not since they invented that ruddy U-bend Tube thing anyway.

Mind you. They come in handy for some things. Like the time my Raymond got drunk and was sick down the toilet. The plumber only managed to fish his dentures out because they got stuck in the U-boat, They were as good as new too, after we had rinsed them out in TCP.

Anyway. My Raymond isn’t staying in Withernsea with me. He’s still pining for that Muriel Dewlap, although I don’t think that she is as interested as she was after she first passed over. Especially now that that Val Doonican has arrived on the scene. Apparently she once had a fling with him whilst he was appearing at the Futurist in Scarborough, and she fancies that he might want to posthumously rekindle the flame. Aye, her and a couple of hundred others. I reckon he has got enough on his plate at the ruddy moment, and he will have rekindled a fair few flames before he gets around to her. If ever.

Any road, I have been enjoying the company of one of them minstrels here at the seaside. And before you ask, no I don’t know what ruddy colour he is because I have never seen him without his makeup on. Not that it makes any difference to me anyway. But he’s a bit shy about things like that. I said to him, I said “I don’t know what your thinking about my baby, it don’t matter if your black or white.” I fancied that ruddy Rudolph Valentino, and he was black AND white.

I got a parcel from a Punch and Judy man from America the other day. Trying to get me to do fortunes again.  It was a ruddy rum looking Tarot pack, and that was in black and white too. I might use it yet. But I’ll probably not serialise it on the ruddy internet because our Michael says that we might run into copyright problems. Mind you If he ever lets me back into the light entertainment industry, then it might come in handy. You never know.

Well, I shall love you and leave you all for now, with these time honoured words…

Having a lovely time… wish you were here.

But don’t go doing “anything stupid” in your haste to join me.

God bless,

Auntie Doris.

Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week #78 The Ten of Cups: April 27th – May 3rd 2015

This is the final card from my pack. I have been randomly drawing them every Sunday for a year and a half now, And this one is the last of the lot.  it is also one of the nicest cards you can draw. So thats something positive to end on isn’t it? Cups stand for health and family and happiness, and ten cups is the most you can get, and there is a lovely little picture of a couple and their children out in the fresh air on a nice sunny day celebrating what they have. a nice house, fresh water, good health, and clear blue skies. If people in Britain can look at that picture and feel bitter and cynical, rather than happy, that is because they have just had to put up with that ruddy oily, insipid, David Cameron as the prime Minister for the last five years.

No doubt the likes of David Cameron would point to those people and lie through his teeth that they are just the sort of people he stands for. “Decent, hard working people” that he is always rabbiting on about. “People who i care passionately about”. He would say that, but he cares a bit more passionately his old School chums and how they can get the good life that the likes of you and me deserve. He would have the land under these people’s feet fracked for gas, and destroyed the idyllic scenery. if the couple or their children got ill, his government wouldn’t look after them, but pass the buck to private, profit driven companies. When they grow old, he would have the same private businesses look after them as cheaply as possible, using workers on them ruddy zero hours contracts, only he would change their name to “flexible contracts” and argue that people want to sign up to work when they don’t know how often will happen and how often they will get paid because thats somehow more convenient for them.

He would have the kiddies sent to privately run schools with equipment paid for by businesses trying to brainwash them into buying their products rather than encouraging them to think for themselves. He would have a country full of ignorant, “decent” Daily Mail readers, who believe that the unemployed are lazy, that the sick are somehow to blame for not buying private insurance, that anybody different to them wants to destroy all that is good about the country. When in reality, some of the best about us British people are our openness to new ideas, and our willingness to care for the disadvantaged.

These are my last words for a while, so please indulge me. i know I’m on my ruddy high horse. but I lived through what the socialists did after the war, and I was ruddy proud to be a part of it. National Health, Public Transport, Welfare State, Comprehensive Education, The BBC, things that the ruddy Tories and the Mail readers would have us laugh at as being old fashioned and “Communist.” as if there is anything old fashioned or communist about educating and looking after people.

The Labour Party that you have today might not be as daring and honest as the one we had back in the 1940s. there may not be any Atlees or Bevans knocking about, or even any Harold Wilsons, or John Smiths. But this modern world with its ruddy obsession with appearances and presentation, means that we have to go with grinning mannequins. But we are better off with socialist leaning grinning mannequins who actually care about ordinary people that right wing grinning mannequins who just say they do. Perhaps if we can get back to a more caring society where health and education are not just mechanisms to support profit, then political debate will become popular again, and the average person will feel more inclined to look behind the facade and think about what really matters. Families, and good health and enjoying clear blue skies and the good things in life. For everyone, not just a few.

Any Road

Four things that you might do this week. (i) Have a good think about how you are going to use your vote in the upcoming Election. Will you be sensible or selfish? (ii) Think about other people and how you can help them. (iii) think about your family and those you love and what they actually need to be happy. (iv) Start a new era where you can have a ruddy good laugh, enjoy a ruddy good time, and make that as many people as you can possibly take along with you do too.

Ohh. and cancel the ruddy Daily Mail if you are daft enough to get it.