Moving house


April first, 2015. Me, my father and our friend Tony all moved into a large house together. As I am currently moving out of said house into Tonys new house’s sofa/bed settee/bench in the park, I thought I would publish the diary I wrote from the day we moved into this house, 18 months ago.

“1st April

Dear diary, it finally happened! I am sat here in the new house, it doesn’t smell of over flowing poo  like the dream I had the other night, where the poo was flowing down the stairs like some kind of horrific indoor waterfall.

There are boxes piled up to the roof almost everywhere.  I think some of Tony’s boxes are mixed up with mine. I have no recollection of purchasing a chrome teas maid, but I could have, who knows where my wandering internet fingers click when I’m on an 4 month old advent calendar bender.

The day has been an absolute nightmare! We got up at 7am when the removal men turned up an hour early. So none of us were ready. Tony helped move boxes in his silk kimono and flip flops. He was so cold you could see his nipples more than any other feature, I know I saw testi on several occasions. The removal men were terrifying, they were all build like shit houses made from brick and they smelled like one too. They were all monosyllabic and when they did talk every other word was a swear word. I’ve never heard such inventive ways to say somethings heavy “God what’s in here an elephant’s cock?”, “Holy turd canoes, what’s in here a whales minge flaps?” and they called me a ‘lazy shit pirate’ when I wouldn’t help move the sideboard! They didn’t want to do anything. Why be a removal man if you resent lifting anything heavier than an atom?

It took them 5 hours to load up their vans with all our stuff. It would have been quicker if they hadn’t stopped to smoke every 9 minutes. That’s not an exaggeration, I timed them! They said they would go and get some lunch then they would meet us at the new house in 2 hours. Where were they going for lunch that took that long, a 9 course banquet? Tea with the Queen? I think they had another small removal job to go to. Maybe a gnome needed moving from one hidden tree trunk house to another slightly better hidden tree trunk house. That’s where gnomes live of course, but that’s common knowledge. Or maybe they were moving a borrower from one house to another. Or maybe they had a lot of underwear to move. I think they were doing a small removal job, that’s the point I’m clumsily trying to put across!

Dad, Tony and I got a taxi to the new house. The stupid butter faced rectum goblin who owns the house hadn’t moved out! The bulbus flatulent wench was still there. Her stuff was in boxes and ready to be moved but she hadn’t! We couldn’t believe it, she seemed like a stubborn tick, no wonder her husband had a look of eternal exhaustion. She came and met us and said her removal people had been delayed and would be here ‘when they got here’ Tony punched someones car and set off an alarm. They didn’t arrive for another hour! When our removal men turned up (45 minutes late) she still had stuff in the top 3 rooms. So they were sat waiting for another hour before we could move our stuff in. Tony punched the same car again and a man came running out and threw a kebab at him.

Tony was absolutely furious. He was screaming at the woman by the end of the day, he said he would be suing her. She slapped him round is face and spat on his kimono. I think he wanted to punch her koala like nose but Dad took him to the pub at the end of the road for a relaxing shot or two of absinthe.

If I thought the removal men were angry about moving furniture from our old house to their van, then moving it from their van into a house with 4 flights of stairs was something else! They flat out refused to move some of our furniture to the top floors. All Tony’s cabinets are in our front room on the ground floor, they wouldn’t carry them because they had marble tops. His elephant style Indian bookcase is in my bedroom and there are dozens of boxes of his books in mine and Dad’s room. They were the most useless removal company I have ever seen. They have broken our sideboard too, they tried to pick it up by the decorative woodwork. It snapped off in their hands, they didn’t even say sorry just “this wooden turds gone to shit”. Their website claimed they have insurance but I highly doubt it.

By 8pm we were moved in and the horrible men had buggered right off. Tony, who was quite drunk by now, had come back from the Chinese with a giant take away. It was a banquet! I got a serving of prawn toast and prawn crackers all to myself! We had several bottles of beer each and by 10pm we were/are all utterly pissed up!

I’ve never written this diary this drunk. The amount of highlighted spelling mistakes is incalculable, which is fairly normal to be fair. Almost every word is spelled wrong! But if I don’t write down what’s transpired today, I’m likely to forget! I might be sick in this antique vase of Tony’s tonight! But there are crude painted on naked ladies on it also. Either way no one is going to want to touch this vase in the morning.”

Lake Garda Spectacular All-Inclusive passenger information

Cecil and I are going on a biddy coach tour to Italy in 3 weeks. I’ve hacked into the national holidays computers and acquired a passenger breakdown of my fellow travelers. At least I know some of the horrors I’ll be stuck on a biddy bus with for 9 days!

Seat 1A

Clive Sinclair

Age: 71

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Clive has worked all his life as an administrative assistant to his wife. Due to an unfortunate accident at childhood Clive is unable to have children as he has no penis or hips. His life’s ambition was to see a television programme in colour, a dream which he achieved in 1968, he found it mildly disappointing. He enjoys lazy walks on the beach, socialising with friends, watching paint dry and daydreaming about Des O’Conner.

Seat 1B

Susan Sinclair

Age: 68

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Susan has spent her life touring the world, leading sexual seminars. She believes herself to be the reincarnation of Albert Moll, founder of modern sexology. Unfortunately Susan has never had sexual intercourse because she’s well frigid and she doesn’t find her husband attractive. She likes lazy beaches, PowerPoint presentations, laser pointers and not thinking about genitals. Her favourite number is 4.9

Seat 1C

Disraeli Fawn

Age: 88

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Disraeli is an immigrant from the market country of Kimballo. He is here legally, his application approved by the Queen, as all immigrant applications are. When he was a child his favourite toy was a rock which looked like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. Which given Mr The Rock wasn’t born then, was an amazing coincidence. He likes slow walks near, but not on, beaches; thinking about stationery and the colour ‘nearly blue, but not blue’. His star sign is ‘horse shoe’. He is terrified of water and bridges.

Seat 1D

Amber Fawn

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Amber is an adult entertainment star. Her best known films are ‘The Fawn identity, ‘Red Fawn’, ‘Fawnmower man’, ‘Fawn of the dead’, ‘Fawn of the 4th of July’ and ‘Fawn the sheep’. She married Disraeli for his money and hopes she can finish him off on this holiday. Both her parents died when she was 4 in an industrial pillow accident. Her favourite colour is ‘chapstick’ and her greatest fear is a vagina fire.

Seat 2A

Kitty Price

Age: 72

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Kitty is the older sister of ‘Titty’. They are identical twins. Kitty is best known as the short one. They dress alike, look alike and do everything together. The only time they have been apart was for 40 years when they had a falling out over who had the prettiest face. Kitty insisted it was her and Titty was certain it wasn’t. They only resolved their difference when they saw each other at the age of 70 and realised they were both a bit ugly. Kitty’s favourite Pokemon is Pikachu. She doesn’t understand how magnets can possible work.

Seat 2B

Titty Price

Age: 72

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Titty never tells anyone she has an identical twin. She always hoped her and her sister would reconcile and she could then play tricks on her husband and children. “Imagine the hilarity of just bumping into an identical woman when you’re shopping with your wife” she would say. Titty once auditioned for a west end show, but didn’t get the part because she can neither act, dance or sing. Has one arm 4 inches shorter than the other. Can’t taste anything oniony.

Seat 2C

Witty Price

Age: 72

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Witty Price is the third twin of the group. Identical to Kitty and Titty in every way apart from appearance and personality. Witty, the smallest of the three twins, was removed from the childhood home when she was 3 months old because she kept biting her siblings. She’s a very aggressive woman, opting for violence and abuse whenever possible. She worked as a dentist all her life. She has had 5 husbands, all of whom died due to nervous exhaustion. Her favourite colour is blood and she lost a toe, she doesn’t know how.

Seat 2D

Shitty Price

Age: 72

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Shitty Price is the fourth and final of the Price twins. Or fourtuplette as they’re better known. Shit was born last and due to abuse in utero from his sisters he is highly deformed. While his mental faculties are all there, he does slightly resemble a poo, which is where his name comes from. He cannot speak, he communicates in semaphore or at a push, mime. He was married for 3 years to a cheese plant named Brian. Hates the work of Brooke Shields and won’t entertain the thought of an otter with a hat on!

The Price foursome are all going on holiday one last time as they all plan on dying soon, this will be their last hurrah. Kitty want’s to drink a coffee in a café in Venice while looking out over the Adriatic and thinking about comfy bras, Titty wants to see the Verona amphitheatre and run up and down the stairs but she trips and hurts her ankle and sue them for 42 Euros, Witty wants to punch any street performer she sees and Shitty wants, for one glorious last time, to swim naked in a hotel pool while people have breakfast, he shall rape a bagel then run under a bus.

Seat 3A

Father Christmas

Age: Infinite

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Father Christmas is taking his annual holiday in the quietest period of the year. He wants it all done before October when the chrsitmas lists start flooding in. He will probably have four or five elves hidden about his person. Be aware he is a large gentleman and may require assistance using the toilet. This is usually done by passengers seated near the toilet. He may have toys and gifts to hand out if he is feeling benevolent. Once kicked the face off a woman because she asked for a lock of his beard hair. He is also immortal!

Sear 3B

Mary Christmas

Age: 21

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Mary is Father Christmas’s 46th wife, as he lives forever he has gone through many a woman. He marries them young and stays with them till they’re old. Each woman is different but the one quality they all share is they are all really nice. Mary used to nurse injured animals, she would read to the elderly and never bad mouthed a Russian. She met Father Christmas four months ago when one of his reindeer got a poorly hoof. She can speak 4 languages, but they are all English. She has no big toes and often smells of otters!

Seat 3C

Marian Barian

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Marian recently married a gentleman called Darian. They fell in love over their love of tarragon. They met on a cooking course in maidenhead, by the end of term they shared each other bed. Marian works many a job, until she’d got married she’d never touched a nob. All her life she’d been a virgin, both her parents we killed by a sturgeon. She likes to read, paint and walk. She has no vocal chords and cannot talk. Her life’s ambition is to be on tv, in the remake of friends, she’ll play Phoebe!

Seat 3D

Darian Barian

Age: 22 and four months

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Darian is an absolute twat, he looks ridiculous in every kind of hat. He bullied everyone at school, he looked like a bizzare human mule. He was 6 feet by the age of 5, the doctors didn’t know how he was still alive. Though he was incredibly thin, he had long arm reach so children couldn’t kick his shin. The teachers were scared of him because he looked like Bruce Forsyth, he used this to try and buy a wife.  Hates the colours red, green and orange, loves the Welsh mountain range of Blorenge.

Seat 4A

Wendy Jordan

Age: 67

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Wendy is a volunteer with the St John’s ambulance, she has been doing this since 1990. Wendy had a stroke in 1993 but continued her duties once she was able. She has use of both her arms and legs but her breasts no longer work. She loves the music of Vera Lynn and watching indoor bowls on the television in autumn. She collects Wade vases and has over 5! Her greatest achievement is being nominated for nudist of the year 1976. Hoped to be travelling with her husband but he left her shortly after they paid for the holiday because he was dead.

Seat 4B

Ping Pong

Age 37

Gender: neutral

Personal Bio:

Conceptual artist Ping is a 37 failed art student for Newcastle. He has decided to live for a year as a Chinese migrant despite the fact he isn’t at all Chinese. He is wearing a straw pointy hat and is constantly squinting his eyes. His art contemporaries are saying it’s deeply racists, especially with the accent he uses, but ping claims it can’t be racists because it’s ‘art’. Allergic to rice.

Seat 4C

Opal Popal

Age: 72

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Opal was born in a small province in Africa called Mallumbolwug in 1943. Her parents both died of boredom when she was 4 years, meaning she had to fend for herself and 6 of her 9 siblings. The other 3 siblings didn’t want her help because they were racist. Opal has a fondness for wasps and keeps at least 6 on her at all times. Four years ago she lost a leg due to forgetfulness. Has always wanted to travel to Europe but didn’t dare because she has a crippling fear of passports

Seat 4D

Sir Patrick

Age: Unknown

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Sir Patrick is perhaps best known as a convicted rapist, kidnapper and fraudster. He is currently trying to winkle Opal out of her knickers and retirement fund. He surrounds himself with only beautiful things because he is so hideous in both appearance and personality. He has 7 known sexually transmitted diseases and is wanted in all 50 states of America for one crime or another.

Seat 5A

Elisabeth Winsor

Age: 89

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Elisabeth is a well-known public figure in England who is looking for a little peace and quiet on a biddy holiday. She’s had a terrible year with one thing and another and just wants to get away from her screeching grandchildren. Little Lizzy is best known for having a face and waving. She plans to spend the whole holiday wearing a bikini and bending over so the Italian waiters see her royal mile!

Seat 5B

Charles of Wales

Age: 66

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Charles can’t seem to escape the clutches of his mother. He didn’t want to come on holiday and spent 4 days locked in his room when he found out he had to go away with her. He doesn’t like coaches and is terrified of ferries. He is hoping to not go through any tunnels. He has bought 9 sun hats to cover his ears as people often mock them when they get sun burnt and go bright red, also if he stands with his back to the sun, the light comes through them and they shine like two luminous slices of water melons attached to the sides of his head! Is also scared of rugby players.

5C – Empty

Seat 5D

Simon Simple

Age: 5

Personal Bio: Simon is planning on running away from home because his mother and father are trying to make him have a haircut! He hopes to get his best girlfriend (Gemma Ankle 6) to come with him, but so far she can’t afford the deposit. Simon paid for this holiday by stealing his parents credit cards. If his dad finds out, they will take away his etch-a-sketch.

Seat 6A

Andrew Salsbury

Age: 43

Gender: Male

Personal Bio:

Andrew works for the Indigo valley coffee company, they supply high quality coffee at a low low price. Andrew has been working there since at least the 13th of September 2011. His office number is 0845 054 0067. He sits at a desk for 11 hours of the day just waiting for coffee related enquires. No one has ever seen his legs! He may not have any or he might have 8, we just don’t know. He seems nice!

Seat 6B

Denble Bemble

Age: 7

Gender: undisclosed

Personal Bio: Denble (full name Denbletenblebombemble) was born on the 29th February 1988. Technically he has only had 7 birthdays and can claim child fayres on most things. This holiday didn’t have a special child rate because who would be stupid enough to take a child on a coach tour? Denble decided he needed a break from everything due to his wife being a nasty sack of cows. She will often beat him if he leaves a sock on his foot too long. Denble may never return to the UK from this holiday, he has plans to live in an abandoned boat in Venice. He thinks he can make a living singing the cornetto song to tourists. If his wife discovers this plan, she will burn his face off with a toaster!

Seat 6C

Cecil Elizabeth Thax

Age: 85

Gender: Old male

Personal Bio: Cecil has recently found himself divorced and living in a new terrifying town away from his friends and local services, shops and bus routes. He is too old to try to make anything of his new life so he spends all day with his son, sitting down and watching day time telly. He used to be a powerful guitarist but he just can’t be bothered anymore. Likes long walks nowhere near beaches. Can’t spell ‘hypothalamus’. Cecil hopes a rich elderly lady will take pity on his sad face and ask him to come live with her in her 90 million pound mansion.

Seat 6D

Paul Shane Starshine Elizabeth Andromeda Thax

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Paul is a rage filled, self-loathing hate filled monster. Paul is unable or unwilling to maintain eye contact, talk to anyone or make any effort at anything. His personal hygiene is at best, abysmal. He once had to soak himself in a bath for three hours before his socks could be removed. Paul blames society for the way he is, in reality it’s all self-inflicted. Has never seen a naked woman in real life or in print. Also never touched, kissed, talked to or winked at a lady. Is very overweight and hasn’t seen his own penis since he was 7!

Seat 7A

Pambert Hambert

Age: 88

Gender: Female

Personal Bio:

Pambert or Pam for a shortened catchy version is very excited to go away on holiday. She hasn’t been on holiday in 45 years because she’s been in prison. She murdered all those kids who were being noisy little shits on a train. They were whooping and also cheering at every station they arrived at. She threw them all out of a window while the train was going over a tall bridge. She has served her time in prison and even though she isn’t sorry they let her out. She would have been out in 30 years with good behaviour but she’s a right bastard!

Seat 7B

Hambert Pambert

Age: 88

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Hambert searched the world for someone with the surname ‘Pambert’. Her maiden name was Hambert, making her name Hambert Hambert. Her middle name is also Hambert because her parents were weird. She is the sister of Pambert. She would visit Pambert every month in prison , she’d hold up the pictures of the dead children just to make Pambert feel bad. It didn’t work, as stated Pambert is an utter bugger! Hambert met her husband ‘Bamburt Pambert’ in the congo, up a tree looking at some frogs. They fell in love instantly and were married come Christmas. He died soon after due to sexual relations with a tree frog.

Seat 7C


Age: 43

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Chinbolt prefers to be called Big chinny bolt face, but no one ever does. He resembles a young Jimmy Hill, his chin is his predominant feature. The only thing people notice about him is his chin, it curves out from his face like a half moon, it measures a whopping 18 inches and comes to a point so sharp it can cut glass. He has never kissed anyone for fear of impaling them. He has no penis!

Seat 7D


Age 40

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Human was once a man called ‘Gilbert’ but he decided that he would live like a caveman. He has no job, house or possessions. He pretends he can’t speak English and only communicates in grunts. He’s often found wearing nothing but a loin cloth and the blood of the animals he’s killed. He gets leg judder meaning he is constantly kicking his legs, which will be a nightmare for anyone who has him sat behind them in a coach or que. He is married to Susan, who paid for this trip so she could have some quality time to herself in the cave.

Seat 8A

Terrance Stamp

Age: 55

Gender: Chap

Personal Bio: Terrance prefers to be called Terrence, with as much emphasis on the second E as humanly possible. TerrEnce worked from home much of his life designing spoons. There’s only so much design a spoon can have before it becomes a small spade so he would just make the handle longer or shorter. This earned him over 4 million quid in 8 years. He loathes chop sticks, won’t allow any other cutlery in the house! He will not spoon with his wife!

Seat 8B

Postage Stamp

Age 56

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Postage (real name Jane) has a wry sense of humour. When she realised she would marry TerrEEEnce Stamp she rushed out and changed her first name to ‘Postage’. For the first six years of their marriage Postage thought her husband was the actor ‘Terrance Stamp’ she was mightily disappointed when she found out he wasn’t. Can’t wait to stay in a hotel and see other cutlery. It’s been 4 years since she used a fork!

Seat 8C

Tome Cruise

Age: 56

Gender: Male

Personal Bio:

Tome is part of the ‘Babe Audio Quartet’ a group of for young gentlemen who perform music and dramatic readings of some of pops and popular cultures greatest achievements. Tome looks like Tom Cruise and thus Tome will give powerful renditions of some of Tom Cruise’s best known performances, such as “I’ve been disavowed”, “Show me some money”, “Nice top gun flying there”, “I’m on a missions, a really hard mission, you might almost say this missions…..really difficult” and the classic “I was in war of the worlds, who remembers that?”. Tome is 6 foot tall and bald.

Seat 8D

Thom Hanks

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Personal bio: Thom is a spitting of Tom Hanks, so much so that he founded a theatre group of famous Toms. Thom devised a one man play called ‘lost on an island with a volleyball’. Thom had never seen or heard of the movie ‘Castaway’ it was just a coincidence. Other titles for his play were ‘Volleyball head island’, ‘One man and his ball’, ‘Touched by a ball’, ‘CRAB ATTACK!!’ and ‘Coconut love’. Thom plans on putting on performances at various street corners around Italy to see how they take it. If it goes well he’ll leave his husband and move in with Trevor!

Seat 9A

Charles Dickens

Age: 45

Gender: Sir

Personal Bio: Charles has travelled forward in time with his best time travelling friend to explore the wonders of the modern age. So far he has seen dinosaurs, cavemen and early man. he now wants to experience the next step in human eveolution, Italian man circa 2015. Charles is a little bit racist and doesn’t think much of the Italians due to once an Italien boy kicked him in the Dickens. Charles loves long walks holding a slow beach, eating potatoes and writing about stage magicians from the 1980’s.

Seat 9B


Age: Future

Gender: Interchangeable willy and foo foo

Personal Bio: Sme is from the human year 2839 where time travel was first used for tourist purposes. Sme was the first man to travel in time on a purely recreational basis. It cost the equivalent of £12 of today’s money. They work on a whole different monetary system in the future, mostly a form of prostitution. He found Charles Dickens first because he read all of his books and found references to a ‘Sme’ from the future who took him traveling in time. Sme is allergic to walks and beaches but loves the smell of clip art.

Seat 9C

Tom Tom

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Tom Tom’s act is something special, a real magical 20 minutes. Tom Tom is a performance artists who works primarily in restaurants. He will sit at the corner of the room and listen to dinner conversations of couples, groups and various other collections of people then, at an important point in the conversation, Tom Tom will run over and chip in with some nugget of information, throwing the person talking off and making them forget what they were talking about. He has many topics of conversation but he will make damn sure none of it is relevant to what you’re talking about. His favourite fun fact is that ‘Armadillos almost always give birth to quadruplets.’ Tom Tom has three arms!

Seat 9D

Tom Joynes

Age 70

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: He’s just a Tom Jones cover artist. Sounds quite like Tom Jones, looks a bit like him too. Often smells of biscuits. Is wheat intolerant and allergic to pussycats. Also like the real Tom Jones, Tom Joynes has a son who he denied that he was the father of for 21 years. Hates the sound of tap shoes, doesn’t eat squid because he fears they will reanimate in his stomach and is very very homosexual.

Seat 10A

Pascal La Fromage

Age 94

Gender: Male

Due to a confusing and illogical administrative error Pascal is, was and always shall be a French exchange student. He has spent his whole life roaming from home to home, going to polytechnics, universities and collages, switching places with one student or another. He’s essential the student equivalent of Quantum leaps Sam Beckett. He hopes each exchange will be his last exchange home. May be dead, no one can tell!

Seat 10B

Andrew Gresley

Aghe 57

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Andrew is perhaps best known for being the editor of ‘Business information systems – 3rd Edition’. Andrew also had a hand in writing the book, along with Bocij, Chaffey and Hickie. Andrew needs a good long break away from thinking about business information systems as he feels they are taking over his life. Last week he referred to talking to his wife as ‘a communal dialogue with value exchange’, he referred to pooing as ‘a waste deduction meeting’ and his children as ‘contraception insufficiency’.

Seat 10C

Sinclair Clive

Age: 72

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Sinclair is going on holiday to get over the recent separation of his wife from him. They were married for 63 years (yes they were married when he was 9), they were happy for about 0.4 years. Sinclair never liked the way his wife smelled, looked, spoke, thought or baked but he had to stay married for the children (they had 23). The thought of having to tell Sinclair Jnr Jnr Jnr Jnr Jnr that he would no longer be living with his mother was too much for him to take. Favourite food – cigarettes.

Seat 10D

Claire Clive

Age 72

Gender: Female

Personal Bio: Claire is also going on holiday to get over Sinclair, unfortunately they booked this ticket 2 years in advanced and didn’t want to lose their deposit. Claire plans on sleeping with as many Italian people as her ancient withered dried up old lady minge will stand. All her children have left home so she has nothing to stay for. She plans on stabbing Sinclair in the chest “accidentally” with her knitting needles at least 29 times. Claire is also deathly afraid of arm rests!

Seat 11A

Humpty Dumpty

Age less

Gender: Egg

Personal Bio: Humpty is a numpty from Clacton on Sea. His wife is known around town for being awfully frumpy. Humpty often gets grumpy when his bed is lumpy and if he eats tuna fish he is often trumpy. He has tiny legs, they’re frightfully stumpy, and when he get up late he is very grumpy. When he was a child he was ill, he was very mumpy, his face and all his cheeks were terrible bumpy. Hates the Spanish!

Seat 11B

Hampty Dumpty

Age 59

Gender: Lady

Personal Bio: Hampty is wife to Humpty, who is well known for being a giant egg. Hampty met him through her king’s horses connection. She fell in love at first sight, poor humpty was smashed to bits and she had the task of cataloguing all his shell sections, ready for putting back together again. She was put in charge of Humpty when he was repaired and helped him through his years of physiotherapy. She’s only made this mistake of cooking him eggs 8 times in their marriage. Sadly they have only been married 4 days!

Seat 11C

Bo Bo

Age 3

Gender: Identifies as a pan dimensional ostrich hammer

Personal Bio: Bo Bo is a small child, often given to fits of anger and violence. ‘He’ is a professional clown, by the time he was 8 months he’d donned his first curly red wig and was doing prat falls and tumbles. People said that he was just learning to walk, but his mother insisted he knew exactly what he was doing! He finds it incredibly hard to sit down for more that 3 minutes without having to get up, run around and play his trumpet. He could ride a unicycle by the age of 18 months! His pet hate is being inside any vehicle!

Seat 11D

Gemma Jo

Age 18

Gender: Female

Gemma is Bo Bo’s mother. She was ‘little miss adorable’ 3 years running when she was 4, 5 and 6. She is a big name in the child pageant circuit. Her first child (Jo Jo) died due to a hairspray incident. She’s hoping Bo Bo will perform well at the Lake Garda little Miss and Mr prissy pooh competition. She’s done nothing but encourage Bo Bo. She has had 18 plastic surgeries to ‘enhance’ her appearance, she is 82.4% plastic and about as attractive as a block of lego. And not even that sexy lego, just a normal 8 x 2 brick that’s old and dirty. Gemma has a deep fear of learning how to read and write.

Seat 12A – Empty

Seat 12B

Mark Perthshire

Age: 45

Gender: Fluid

Personal Bio: Mark takes massive offence if anyone refers to him as ‘he, him, sir, Mr’ because he thinks he’s transcended gender definitions. A lady once asked him if he would mind leaving the ladies toilets and using the men’s. He stabbed her in the cheek with his tampons. She wasn’t hurt but very shaken up. The man is an utter bastard!

Seat 13A

Miss Mist

Age: Unknown

Gender: unknown but identifies as female

Personal Bio: Miss Mist is a cloud entity from sector 9, citadel 4 of the tittytwotwo region of Pluto. Miss Mist was looking for a luxury holiday but couldn’t afford one due to the train fare from Pluto to Earth. She is made entirely from mist, of a yellow hue. She can neither talk, see, hear or feel but she has a general sense of movement. Do not approach her with a fan or any kind of ‘waffting’ device as she could be blown away.

Seat 13B

Argyll Terrier

Age: 4

Gender: Male

Personal Bio: Argyll Terrier is a small white dog. He is going on holiday to get away from being forced to wear tartan coats and pose for photos for biscuits wrappers. Has no testicles. Is very aware of what his owner is doing while he’s away and plans to maybe not go back. Obviously being a dog, he can’t communicate what that information is, but there’s a look in his eye that shows, he knows!

The Whitby Incident

The Whitby Incident

Recently my father and I went on a mini break to Whitby for to have a relaxing time after one thing and another. Our first day went exactly like this!

Picture the scene, February, cold, frigid and indifferent. No, not every woman I’ve ever met, the Yorkshire seaside town of Whitby. We arrived at our accommodation pre tea time (pre time); we didn’t know what kind of room we would get as there were dozens of rooms in several large properties. As it turned out we were in room 6 (of 7) in Beech house. A large five floored house. We stood at the bottom of the staircase and looked up, there were many flights of stairs to climb, room 6 was right on the top. This was going to be a herculean task, climbing to the top. By the second flight of stairs, each leg lift was an exercise in torture and determination. Our bags weighed more than the earth, our feet were being crushed under our bulks and our lungs had the capacity of a small otter. We had to have 5 sit downs per floor.

Once we had made the long climb we came to our door, it was on the top of a tiny landing, no more than 1 meter square. Right next to our room was room 7 which was also served by this tiny landing. The doors were not opened by standard keys but rather by a futuristic keypad, you had to input a 5 digit code then your door would unlock and access to your holiday accommodation would be granted. I entered the code and we got into our compact en-suite room, it was very nice, clean and tidy. There were tea and coffee making facilities and an ironing board and iron. Cecil collapsed on the bed, I sat on the floor. We didn’t move for 55 minutes. Why couldn’t they have a stair lift fitted!?

We spent the day losing money in the arcades. Cecil beat me at mini golf, half way round the course when I had gone 10 over par for the sixth time, I tried to bend the putting stick in anger but it was very sturdy and I just bruised my knee. We thought about walking up the hundreds of steps to the abbey but after the stairs to the hotel room, we gave it a miss. We had tea in an Italian restaurant. The woman serving us kept looking and giggling at Dads toupee. He’d worn his poshest one, it’s jet black. He looked like his head had been tarmacked. The waitress wasn’t Italian, yet Dad kept saying “oh bella bella, senorita” I didn’t tell him that was Spanish; he seemed so pleased with himself.

The meal was nice, we then slowly walked back to the hotel, not wanting to face those stairs again. By the time we got back and climbed the stairy mountain, we were both exhausted and went straight to sleep.

7th February – 3:58 am

I woke with a start; there is thunking coming from downstairs, an odd moaning and scraping noise. I eventually figure out it is the sound of a man, a man who seems intoxicated. And from what it sounds like he’s being pleasured sexually. I think “Oh aye, someone’s ‘pulled’.” there is staggering noises coming up the stairs leading to our room. The moaning continues. It sounded almost like Gollum was creeping up the stairs, drunk and being fellated. The man gets to the top of the stairs and onto the tiny landing. He is making very drunk noises; he’s not capable of forming words. He’s still also making the sounds of a man enjoying the oral pleasures of sexual stimulation. Cecil was asleep. Cecil had taken his sleeping pills because since mum left him, he cannot sleep. So no matter how hard I tried the old man lay slumbering like a babe in a papoose. Whatever was to happen, I would have to deal with it on my own!

He is thrashing around, oddly he doesn’t use the keypad to enter room 7, he remains on the landing. He bangs on the walls, clearly unable to stand up. Suddenly I realised that the vigorous rubbing noise is not a sexual partner, but rather the man is rapidly ‘loading his pump action flesh gun’, he’s milking his own member’, he’s ‘jettisoning his DNA payload’ he’s ‘making the snake vomit’, he’s ‘making a withdrawal from his own sperm bank’. He’s wanking! Wanking incredibly enthusiastically and from the sounds he was making, he was enjoying himself very much. I wasn’t certain he was loving his own love muscle until the horrific sound of him spitting onto his own hand and the subsequent squelches. Then his moans grew in intensity.

Now at this point the thought that was predominant in my mind was “Do I go out there and put a stop to this or leave him to it and hope he goes away” but before I could form a coherent thought in my head (it was 4am) the man started trying our door. So apparently being from the 1950’s I shouted “Oi” at him. He instantly stopped fiddling with both himself and our door. He went silent, probably shocked to realise someone was in the room. I can only assume he passed out then as he went quiet for 40-50 minutes.

I was nearly drifting off to sleep when he must have come to, which is surprising because he hadn’t put the landing light on so he was in pitch black out there. There were some more rapid sounds of him pumping his womb broom (masturbating) then he stopped doing that and tried to use the keypad to get into room 7. Given he was so drunk he couldn’t make whole words come out of his mouth, I didn’t expect he’d be able to get in. He couldn’t! After several attempts and variations on shouting the words ‘Fuck’ and/or ‘Jesus Christ’ he gave up. He decided to take the door by force. Thankfully the tiny landing didn’t give him any room to get a run up, so he was basically just leaning on the door. Also he’d begun loudly farting every 3 minutes.

I’d had time to think now; I could have gone out there and spoken to him, either with a swift kick to his precious ball zone or talking to get him into his room. But the landing was so small, if we scuffled then one of us would be going down the steep curved stairs or the final horrific option was; he gets into our room and either pisses, shits, vomits or ejaculates somewhere, maybe all 4! If I tried to help him into his room I suspect he wouldn’t know his room number. So I decided to leave him on his own.

Then he tried again to get into our room, I felt he needed a much sterner telling off this time, so I shouted “Oi, what the hell are you doing? Give up!” I am apparently a school teacher from the 1920’s! Thankfully my harsh words stopped him in his tracks. I should have realised this meant he was easily put in his place and I could have gone out there and dealt with him, but then we heard the sounds of zips becoming undone. He was of course getting naked, all the while saying “Jesus Christ” and complaining he was cold!

I’d had enough, time to man up! I did what any self-respecting grown man would do. I rang reception for help! There were some emergency phone numbers in our welcome pack so I called them. They could deal with naked, drunk, masturbating man who may or may not have poo, piss and cum all over himself, this was my holiday, I didn’t need to see that! He had gone silent again, passed out I assumed.

I sat up in bed and waited for someone to come, after 10 minutes there was the sound of none drunk people talking. We heard footsteps and a ladies voice saying “Shall we wake him up?” A man said “Do you want letting into your room” to which my drunk, wanking hotel friend said “Nah, I’m alright!”

The people then left! Our rescuers just walked away leaving him sleeping on the landing. I sat in bed for 30 minutes shocked! Listening to him, he had gone to sleep. I thought he had gone to sleep, he was very quiet. I couldn’t hear anything. I looked under the crack in the door. He had vanished!

I opened the door and there was no sign of him. No smell of bodily fluids or solids. It was as if he was never there!

I went to bed and fell asleep, not waking till 1pm, Cecil was still asleep! I went to the bathroom and got a put of cold water and poured it over his lazy old face. He woke up with a start, shouted “man overboard!” I told him of everything that he’d slept through. He just laughed, the old idiot. I was furious!

We got up and walked to reception, which was in another building 5 minutes away. My lack of sleep meant I was in a frightful mood. I complained vehemently. They said “Yeah, it happens more than you think, I’ll have a word with him”. They didn’t seem like they were going to do anything so I said that we weren’t going to stay there and we wanted a room change. A Queue was forming behind us and we used the word ‘masturbating man’ a few times, so to appease and shut us up, they put us in Starfish cottage, a three bedroom house, a luxury house, with all wood walls and posh shower and bath!

The cottage was a lovely upgrade but we had missed the bus and the mystery trip away. We decided to spend the afternoon walking around Whitby’s charity shops, looking for any bargains that might be on offer. Dad bought some new socks, a book about fly fishing, 2 pairs of glasses and a trombone. He can’t play the trombone, but that’s as he says “because I’ve never tried” so the horrific sounds of trombone pumps could be heard all evening. It was horrible, but he fainted due to lack of breath so I got to concentrate on the film I was watching.

We went to bed by 10:20pm we had to be at the bus by 8:30am tomorrow morning to be taken home. I shall be complaining in the strongest possible terms to the travel company about this!

A Toff in the Woods – Part 3

The long dark is a survival game created by Hinterland, all screenshots taken from in game, available on steam and


Previously on A Toff in the woods Part 2  – Jeremy Cream finds himself in a high up look out post. There was minimal food and water, but after a nights sleep by a small fire, he was ready to move on.


I walked through the dawn light, squinting as the freezing wind hit my eyeballs like fists of frozen fury. I walk for a good while before I saw something poking out of the snow.

Get it 'Thaw'
I hope his name isn’t Thor.

I knew it was a corpse. I’ve seen a dead body before, Daddy was very keen on snuff films. One evening at our manor, Billbert Pripleminge killed our footman after he spilled brandy on his lapel. Daddy tried to hide the body but Mummy wanted nothing to do with it, also Smilbert (our fourth chambermaid at the time) witnessed the crime. Billbert wanted to kill her too but Mummy stopped him. They hid the footman’s corpse in my bedroom for 2 days before Mummy let them call the police. The way he would stare at me at night will forever be burned into my memory.

So a cold corpse didn’t bother me too much. Unfortunately the body was frozen solid, I couldn’t even get his jacket off. I couldn’t establish why he had died. I did think about hacking off a haunch of buttock but I didn’t have anything sharp enough to cut through his frozen material or meat, so I said a prayer and left him in his wintery grave.

I walked and walked. The woods were really getting on my wick. Tree after endless bally tree! I seemed to be stuck in a woody nightmare, a kind of tree based limbo. Then finally after hours of tortuous walking, in the distance I saw a flash of red. I am a brave man, never have I shied away from danger. Apart from that time when hunting with Uncle Rudiger.

I found a house!  A Canadian house!

What time do they get the newspapers?
What time do they get the newspapers?

I ventured inside. There was no one home. So like a posh Goldilocks, I riffled through all the things in the house. It wasn’t a house but some kind of office. There were some supplies but nothing of any use. I found some small bits of food and drink which I polished off instantly. I waited a day and night to see if anyone came, but there was no sign of human activity. I broke and burnt several chairs but I needed heat, I have to survive. I’m the 4th Earl of Dukeshire, if I die the line will be broken and a charity will get out houses. I couldn’t abide the thought of that!

I left the office in the morning, the weather was clear and I saw in the distance several more huts. I quickly explored them. There was nothing of use again. The only thing I found was a small axe and tiny bits of food. Things were looking grim.

Lake and corpse side view!
Lake and corpse side view!

I did the only thing I could do, I explored every house. This would have gone so much faster if my butlers had been here to help! Each hut more useless than the last. They were more useless than the boys we got as trainee butlers as part of a reality television program. Never have I seen such useless workshy idiots. And one of them stole Mummy’s tiara. That boy disappeared shortly afterwards, hehe Uncle Rudiger has his uses!

Then outside the last hut I came across another corpse, maybe watching snuff films as a child has rubbed off on me! This dead man had something actually useful, a rifle!

He died how he lived, licking his own member!
He died how he lived, licking his own member!

Things were looking up. I had a gun! Obviously there were no bullets in. I entered the last hut. I was being weighed down by all the bits and bobbles I’d picked up. I had a bag full of newspaper and wood so I could get myself warm. the fire didn’t last more than 4 minutes as all the wood I had was basically tinder. I searched the hut and joy upon joys, I found 8 rounds for the rifle! Nothing could stop me now, all I had to do was find an elk or panda and I would eat well tonight!

Next time

A very interesting discovery!

A Toff in the Woods – Part 2

The long dark is a survival game created by Hinterland, all screenshots taken from in game, available on steam and


Previously on A Toff in the woods Part 1  – Jeremy Cream finds himself crash landed in a harsh cold environment, with nothing but his ‘wits’ to keep him alive, he stumbled on several abandoned cabins, he entered, the story doth continue, read on, do.


Part 2 –

There were 4 cabins, one of which had clearly burned down, There was nothing in it but splintered old wet wood and the smell of terror, that was coming from me, the lobster I’d had for lunch was getting it’s revenge. I walked over the one of the in tact cabins. The door was unlocked! Success, I’ll be home in time for quince jelly and quail! I went into the cabin and was horrified at what I saw! The cabin was a barren shack with just a few beds and empty shelves!

It doesn't even have a wine rack!
It doesn’t even have a wine rack!

I found a few delightful items within, the pinnacle of which is this exquisite heavy wool jumper. That was thick and heavy sarcasm, I wouldn’t be seen dead in such a garment! However, it’s jolly bally cold, so I donned the bulky woolen abomination. Never has such a cheap fabric adorned my torso.

You wouldn't be let in the gentlemans club wearing this!
You wouldn’t be let in the gentleman’s club wearing this!

I explored the other cabins, all are similarly sparse but I managed to find several useful items such as a scarf, some firewood, some food and a box of tools. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything with these but I’ve seen Carstairs (my second manservant) open a tin of foie gras so I know how a can opener works.

Never buy tinned foie gras, it is revolting, get it direct from your local farmer, where you can see that the duck has been sufficiently fattened, ideally the duck (or goose) shouldn’t be able to move at all. Some people say this is cruel, but they’re only animals, why should their welfare worry me!

After exploring the cabins I head out into the wilds while the light is still luminous. There’s a reason they call it the wilderness, because it’s damn bally wild out here! There is nothing, no sign of man, industry or business! Just tree after tree after dull pointless tree! I walk for what seems like hours, eventually I come to a clearing! I spy some wonderful unnatural colour in the distance, my feet are in agony, wet and cold covers my whole lower body. I see a sign beckoning me!

It's a sign!
It’s a sign!

I take this as a sign and follow the arrow up a steep hill. The darn thing goes up and up forever. It’s higher than the amount of bedroom tax I pay each year. Actually I don’t pay any tax, Mr Chaplin, my accountant, does wonderful things with numbers. As far as the taxman is concerned I live in a one bedroom cottage on the outskirts of Bath. I don’t see why I should pay tax, it’s my money, Mummy and Daddy worked very hard to earn that!

Cabin on stilts
Cabin on stilts

At the top of this piste was a very high cabin, sadly there wasn’t a lift to take me up so I had to use the stairs and my own legs to get to the top! Inside I expected to find hot chocolate, a television, a radio, brandy, whiskey, a selection of fine wines and chocolates and a small library. Inside I actually found some beef jerky (which looks like a dog chew, I’ve no idea what it is used for), some aspirin and water purification tablets. There were two beds and most importantly, there was a wood stove! I immediately parroted what I had seen Woodrow doing when making our fire in the third drawing parlour back in my mansion. I put the bits of wood I found and newspaper into the stove and threw a match in. Seconds later hot glowing fire burst forth. I have never been so rugged and manly! If only Lucinda could see me now! She left me because I wasn’t rugged enough for her. I don’t know what she was blathering about, when we went riding together I put Blinky’s mane in a delightful French braid. There is nothing more manly than being able to coax thick coarse hair into regimented tight braids!

Burn baby burn, no discos were harmed in the making of this image
Burn baby burn, no discos were harmed in the making of this image

I decided to spend the night in this high up cabin. The night was dark, cold and terrifying, much like my fifth wife. The fire went out within the first hour. The sheets on the bed were not made of goose down. I’ve never been so cold in all my life! I got all the sheets and blankets and made a nest in the corner of the room, for some reason all my shivering was making me incredibly hungry and thirsty. As soon as dawn came I woke up, I ate all the food I had and drank the water that had remained unfrozen. I then girded my loins and got up from my nest and headed out back into the frigid, bleak, penetrating wilderness (again sounds like my 5th wife).

Every day has it's dawn
Every day has it’s dawn

I walked for what seemed like an eternity, certainly longer that any game of polo I’ve ever seen. Maybe not as long as the dinner party Daddy threw when Margaret Thatcher came. That was the best night of my life!

I walked and walked until I came across an horrific scene!

Get it 'Thaw'
I hope his name isn’t Thor

Continued in A toff in the wilderness – Part 3

Corpses and weaponry!

A toff in the woods – Part 1

The long dark is a survival game created by Hinterland, all screenshots taken from in game, available on steam and


This blog is based on the premise of a very rich and pampered man, finding himself alone in the cold harsh wilderness, with nothing but his ‘wits’ to keep him alive. How will this privileged idiot cope in such a situation, read on to find out!

Hello, my name is Sir Jeremy cream, I live in a very big house, like this one, but not this one, I wouldn’t put a photograph of my house on the internet in case some oiks decided to pay me a visit. This is a photo from the web site small country house

A small country house
A small country house

Do you know them? I don’t know them, I don’t like their lawn, mine is better!

My house has over 200 bed rooms, I have a fleet of cars and more servants than I can count. The house was Mummy and Daddies, but they’re dead now, they weren’t shot in an alley, I’m not a batman, I have very little interest in preventing crime, unless it’s crime happening to me. Like the poachers in my coppices, if I find out who it is, there shall be a hefty fine!

I have many business, I shan’t list them here because you might try and steal from them, let’s just say, last week I was luncheoning with Lord Sugar and Sir Trump! My hobbies are riding, shooting, business and fine wine/dining.

I have traveled the world, visited some of the most exclusive clubs, port and restaurants in all of the world, my life consists of sampling the finest things this world has to offer, I’ve eaten puffin hearts in Con Celador, larks tongues in Al Tribbiat, 200 year old Smaptons atop mount St Etna and crystalline dodo in Pompeii. I have never known hardship, struggle or worry. Until today!

Let me take you back in time 12 hours, thank you!

My third wife was dead, she had fallen from the world’s tallest roller coaster. There was no fault with the machine, she had climbed up it and jumped to her death, the safety record of the amusement park (whom I can’t name for legal reasons) remains impeccable. She died because she hit the ground from a jolly tall height, she jumped because I had taken a fourth wife and she knew that meant I had moved on, she was a frightfully dramatic woman.

However I had to travel to New Jersey, in the Americas to sign her body over. I took the family jet, the meal was a bland oyster and caviar affair, the only thing that saved it was an exquisite chardonnay. I ate my meal and decided to sleep a while on the flight.

I awoke to the sound of frightfully loud alarms, the whole plane was violently shaking. I could tell we were going down, going down hard and fast! We crashed! I don’t remember any of the crash, I must have been thrown far from the wreckage because when I came to there was no sign of Wilhemina (the plane) anywhere!

I can't see the woods for the trees!
I can’t see the woods for the trees!

Panic filled me, for the first time in 54 years Woodrow wasn’t answering my screams. My faithful man-servant was no where to be seen! I’ve never been more than 50 yards away from him, when Mummy and Daddy were away at a regatta or gymkhana, Woodrow would be at my beck and call. I was beckoning and calling for him, but my cries went unanswered, I’d never felt so alone! Alone and terrified!

The world I found myself in was a bitterly cold, hostile one. There was snow and trees everywhere. Had I been brought on a surprise skiing holiday, the boys from the rugger club had surprised me like this before, but Woodrow had been with me! And I also had a sexy little bit of totty handcuffed to my arm that time.

This time I knew I was on my own! I looked around and could see at the bottom of the hill were some structures, I knew I had to find civilization if I was to get out of this situation. I walked down the hill, the snow was white, powdery and in vast quantities, just how I like my cocaine. But it wasn’t a fun recreation substance, it was cold and slippery. I began down the hill, my loafers letting snow, my feet becoming damp and cold, I saw shelter.

It's not the Hilton but it will do.
It’s not the Hilton but it will do.

There were 4 cabins, one of which had clearly burned down, there was nothing but splintered old wet wood and the smell of terror, that was coming from me, the lobster was getting it’s revenge. I walked over the one of the in tact cabins. The door was unlocked! Success, I’ll be home in time for quince jelly and quail! I walked into the cabin and was horrified at what I saw!

Continue in A toff in the wilderness – Part 2

An horrific discovery!

The old man in Skyrim – Part 15

The Premise
Skyrim is a vast sprawling game, you can pretty much do anything you want, so I decided to live in Skyrim, to see how an old man coped with the harsh environment and bizarre folk that inhabit this land. This is my tale!

The Rules
80 year old man in Skyrim.
Only doing what an average 80 year old can do.
No constantly running, using shouts (special powerful magics), magic or fast travel.
No murder or stealing or anything unethical, should always try to run away from a fight.
Read part fourteen here –

Previously on ‘An old man in Skyrim’

Cecil Had made it to Riften and found a church which gave him an amulet which showed all potential ladies that he was single and wanted to take a wife.

The story continues….

If I’m to go a wooing then I think my whole appearance needs a face life, not just my clothes, but my face too, it’s frightfully saggy! I imagine there are people willing to cut my face up, but far fewer who would be willing to stitch it back together again to make me look 10 years younger. No, my face can stay old but my garments can be changed to something far more sensual! Something low cut to show off my chest and tight enough to snuggly house my old man buttocks!

So a trip to the tailor is required, but a house of fine garments and cloth is no place for a dirty mutt who might wee on some fine leather, so for the first time ever, I order Meeko not to follow me and stay put in the room at the inn, and like the well trained hound he is, he sits down and starts sniffing his bum!

Sit Meeko sit, Good dog
Sit Meeko sit, Good dog

I walk around the town for quite some time before I realise that maybe this town isn’t the upmarket cultural hub I thought it was, none of the shops sell fancy garments, certainly no formal dress wear, only armour!

It’s half past 5 before I decide to give in and buy some semi fancy armour, the one I go for has studs on as it’s subliminal messaging, ladies will see the studs, think “stud” and associate me with studs, thus they will think I’m a stud! I cannot fail!

It's all signals!
It’s all signals!

This is how I now look, as handsome as any man in pointy leather clothes. As soon as I parade around town ladies start to gaze in my direction! Nothing screams sexy like bear arms apparently! I pop on my amulet of marriage and see if I can woo any maidens out of their bras. First stop, bar skanks!

This one is not happy to see me!


Typical woman!
Typical woman!

Despite my very best efforts to woo these beautiful ladies of Riften, I find the task quite hard, and but quite hard I mean impossible! I don’t know what it is about me, maybe I’m too sexy for this armour, maybe it’s my fancy hat or wrinkled old man face, but every woman I speak to seems angry at me, they hardly want to talk to me let alone even contemplate the idea of spending the rest of our lives together, which given how old I am, won’t be that long! I don’t want to sound sexist but what a bunch of fridged moo cows!

The constant rejection is getting to me so I decide to go back to the inn, however I get a bit turned around in the odd streets of Riften and find myself at a big castle, I would like to live in a castle! I try my luck chatting up the ladies dwelling within, firstly I talk to this woman who instantly starts talking pure poppycock!

A fine experimentation, I'm sure!
A fine experimentation, I’m sure!

I thought things were going quite well but in the end she just asks me to go on some dangerous quest for some science mumbo jumbo, I get bored by her ramblings and start looking around the room while she waffles on, behind her there is a very rich looking woman so as is my want I walk away from the science lady while she’s in mid-sentence! I try chatting to the rich looking woman; unsurprisingly she wants nothing to do with me! Not even the serving wench is interested in me!

Dejected and rejected I head back to the inn to see how much ale I can drink before I can’t stand up anymore. It’s 14 bottles!

A new day dawns, I sleep in till mid-day then my quest is to talk to every single (or married) woman in this god forsaken town begins! By five o clock I realise that not one of them wants a chunk of Cecil pie. So I swear I shall leave Riften for ever, it’s not the exotic raunchy place it looked on the map! I walk out of the main gates and hire the horse and cart man to drive me away as quickly as possible!

Take me to new and erotic lands!
Take me to new and erotic lands!

Of all the places I’ve been I can only remember Whiterun having a couple of ladies who gave me the time of day, so maybe one of them will marry me. By the time I get there it’s midnight, it doesn’t look as inviting as I remember!

Oh moody! Like all ladies!
Oh moody! Like all ladies!

After a sleep in the inn, I get up relatively early and again speak to every woman I can find in the town. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I have this damn amulet on which apparently shows I want a wife. My clothes are of the finest quality; my face is welcoming and old. I talk to every woman here and accidently agree to do quests for several of them, I’d pretend to do anything to get a wife, and I assume the woman would own her own house too, I realise my chances of getting wed are rapidly dwindling!

My last option is to go back to my home town of solitude and try my luck with the woman of the bards college. Surely if any woman’s going to want me it’s my fellow barding chums!

I take the cart back to Solitude and back to the massive and steep hill, my ankles are once again not happy!

My friend of Solitude!
My friend of Solitude!

I enter the bards collage; it’s gone beyond a joke this! 20 minutes later and I’ve been rejected by every woman there, most won’t even engage me in conversation, let alone marriage!

Screw it, I’m in solitude and it would seem that’s a state I am going to remain in for the rest of my life! Who wants a stupid wife, with their companionship and homely ways!

Grumpy cow sack!
Grumpy cow sack!

I wander round solitude for the afternoon, picking flowers and herbs for old times sake, and also to make some money, these clothes and amulet have almost decimated my gold collection.

I need to make some more money and as I’m near my old work place (the water mill) I decide to take a quick walk back down there to earn some money for a stay at the inn.

I start to walk towards the water mill when I remember the small town of Dragon Bridge, the place where 2 vicious mud crabs killed a man and a woman, there were other people there, I’m going to give it one very last shot at finding a wife!

As I walk the short road to Dragon Bridge, I happen upon this familiar looking pair, a guard and a noble man on horseback, I’m sure it’s the same ones I met just outside the bandit camp, I guess he and his guard reunited and are travelling the roads again, just a noble man and his trusty guard, two chaps on the road together getting up to all kinds of shenanigans!

Horseback mountain
Horseback mountain

I reach Dragon Bridge, it’s been several months since I was last here and the slaughter by the mud crabs, but this faithful dog is still sat by the corpse of his dead master, whimpering for his lost companion. That’s when it hits me, I’ve left Meeko in Riften! He is safe in the inn so there’s no need to rush back to him quite yet, I hope the bar wench is giving him some snacks!

Don't eat his corpse!
Don’t eat his corpse!

The area I’m in is fairly safe, so I decide to walk back to the bandit camp to see if there was any of the loot I left still there, I figure I can sell it also none of the women here want to talk to me either!

I set off to the bandit camp, I come across another old friend, the graffitied cow and its giant owner, I keep my distance, I give the giant a nod and he doesn’t pound me hard into the ground.

Don't mention the farmer!
Don’t mention the farmer!

I get to the bandit camp and all my stuff has gone, it’s my own fault for just leaving it on a table! I decide to head back to Whiterun but do so by going via the woman in the fishing hut just in case she is feeling frisky and wants a quick roll in the hay.

She does not!

She want's to be left alone!
She want’s to be left alone!

I continue on the path, then I’m attacked by two wolves, with no Meeko to protect me I thought I was a goner but I pull out my bow and manage to kill the wolves before they even bite me. Maybe I didn’t need Meeko after all!

With a skip in my step and a feeling of invincibly and manliness I go about picking all the flowers and herbs I can find, I am in a revelry. I might not have a wife but I can protect myself and back home I have Meeko, and he’s all the companionship I need, I can’t wait to get back to the Inn and see his big slobbery face, I’ll give him a big hug and buy us both a goat leg and as much mead as we can drink! Meeko and me for every, we’ll save up and buy a house together and live out our days hunting rabbits and taking in the cool Skyrim air!

Or that’s what I thought, I wasn’t paying attention, I’d gotten sloppy, I was so caught up in picking flowers and thinking about my future that I didn’t think about my present and the dangerous world I was in.

Out of nowhere I felt an intense pain in my side, what caused it, where had it come from? I look round to see the biggest bear in the world swiping at me with its giant paws, I panic, I foolishly try to shoot it with my bow, the arrow hits it in the face yet it still comes charging and swiping at me, it takes a chunk out of my side, I run, I look for somewhere to escape to, the only place is a deep river, my only option is to jump in. I dive in. The current carries me over to a tiny island, I pull out my bow and shoot at the bear, the bear is not affected by the rapid flowing river and it charges me, I try to get another shot in but my arrow catches in the bow and forces me to accidently fire the arrow in the ground to my right, as I spin round to see where my arrow has gone the bear pounces on me, pummelling me with its powerful paws.

I don’t’ have time to think or act, the bear has shattered my back! I spin round, my back is broken, blood pouring from the gash, my sight goes dim. This is the end for me, I’ve had a long life, it’s certainly been eventful. I fall to the ground, my last thoughts are of Meeko, alone in the inn, forever waiting for a master to come home, but a master that never will!

My vision goes dim, the last thing I hear is the rushing sound of water, the rest is silence!

The End


Old man in Skyrim – Part 14

Authors note – Due to unexpected and tedious computer problems all the screenshots for this instalment of an old man in Skyrim have been lost. Lost to the world like the ring of Farloppys unrelenting diarrhoea or King Sarginton’s favourite wench beating mace, so for this entry you shall have to use your puny imaginations, which is a shame because there were nearly naked ladies!

The Premise
Skyrim is a vast sprawling game, you can pretty much do anything you want, so I decided to live in Skyrim, to see how an old man coped with the harsh environment and bizarre folk that inhabit this land. This is my tale!

The Rules
80 year old man in Skyrim.
Only doing what an average 80 year old can do.
No constantly running, using shouts (special powerful magics), magic or fast travel.
No murder or stealing or anything unethical, should always try to run away from a fight.
Read part ten here –

Previously on ‘An old man in Skyrim’

Cecil had made his way towards Riften avoiding bandits, wolves and doing anything interesting, until he came across a hot spring full of semi naked people, he made camp and enjoyed the warm erotic waters!

The story continues….

Hotter springs!
Hotter springs!

I tarry here in the hot springs for what seems like an age, this is mostly because the warm water feels so good and also because I have an erection that won’t go away. There are two women walking about the springs in little more than handkerchiefs, there are bosoms visible and that’s something these old eyes haven’t seen for a long time. I make camp here and rest, Riften can wait, these saucy women aren’t going anywhere and neither am I!

After several weeks I become dulled to these ladies bits and bobbles flopping about the place, also there are two chaps here who keep looking at my loin cloth, I feel the need to move on, so semi reluctantly I move on. Also the women kept moaning at me because I used to like watching them sleep, they did it in public, in the open air and the one time I get drunk and try and cuddle up to them they take offence! Yes time to move on!

As soon as I leave camp a thick fog surrounds me, I can only assume it’s a change in temperature as I leave the snowy peaks and descend into the slightly warmer climate near Riften, though I only descend for a little while, then the path goes almost vertically up! I don’t know if I can make it, yes I’m well rested and full of pith and vinegar, but I am still 80 years old and can’t handle steep hills for very long. There are goats bounding around me, I attempt to catch one to no avail. I give one more shot at trying to ride Meeko, but he’s having none of it. We make it slowly up the mountain, only meeting a couple of wolves which we dispatch with relative ease. We also come to a cave with severed goat’s heads on pikes, so we quickly leave the area for fear of what might be lurking in there.

Time and I march on, the sun begins to set, again my mind turns to the comforts of a real bed, I’m really getting tired of camping. A few minutes later up the road and I spot a house, quickly walking up to it my excitement dissipates as I realise it’s not a pub but just a farm house. Though I make pleasant conversation with a woman, till she asks me to go pick some rare grapes for her. I tell her that if I ever see them I’ll fetch her them. Who knows I might, if I see these grapes and don’t need to eat them and can be bothered to come all the way back, ahh who am I kidding, I’ll never fetch them to her, lazy madam, get your own grapes!

Night quickly comes, I look for somewhere nice to camp, but again in the distance I catch a glimpse of lights, I cautiously approach. There is certainly a camp, but no people, the fire is lit, there is food in the pot, readymade beds but no people. With the pretence of hoping to help and certainly not to plunder their free food and help myself to a night in their beds I enter the camp. I of course don’t steal anything but see a journal on the table so I take a quick flick through, it talks of riches hidden in Angarvunde. I’ve  never heard of it and I never hope to find it, it’s probably deadly, it sounds like just the kind of place hoards of zombies or giant spiders live. I have a little flash back to my time in Dead mans respite and shudder. The horror!

I wait around for 30 minutes to see if the owners of this camp come back but I accidentally fall asleep in one of their beds, I’m like goldilocks, and I can’t remember anything bad happening to her!

After a wonderful nights sleep in a bed that was not too hard and not too soft, but just right I get up, eat a leg of some meat, not stole meat, I bought it two pubs ago! Then I set off towards Riften, with Meeko by my side I whistle a jaunty tune to brighten the already bright day!

I’m feeling on top of the world as I walk up to the main gates of Riften, there’s a skip in my step, a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I approach the gate guard and in my most upbeat voice I say

“Hello dear fellow, I have travelled half a world to get to your fair city, pray good sir knight, might an old man enter your fine settlement with a hope of becoming a resident of this proud fine metropolis?”

“No!” he says in the rudest tone possible “Use the main gate!”

And with that he won’t say anything else to me. No matter how I ask for direction to these main gates he simply refuses to answer me. So I start to follow the large walls of the city until I find another set of gates and guards. The guard gives me the old shake down of demanding a tax for entering the city. I’ve never paid a gate toll in my life, I shoot the guard one of my sternest looks and he backs down then lets me into Riften!

Unlike when I entered Solitude, there was no fanfare, no public execution well no anything at all. The place is utterly deserted! My new home town greets me with utter distain. I didn’t expect much but some free cake would have been nice, or a beer stand. Don’t they know I’m an official bard of the cards college?

I make my way into town and find there are actually people, they’re all in a little market listening to snake oil peddler, trying to flog his wares. I listen to the conversations of a few people, there is a lot of talk about thieves in the town, I clutch my purse to my bosom tightly. A man approaches me, he calls me ‘lad’ I can only assume he has terrible eyesight, I’ve not been called lad for 58 years! Somehow this blind idiot manages to talk me into playing a merry jape on one of his friends, the ruse is that I take a ring from one of his friends table and put it in the pocket of another one of his friends, oh just imagine the confusion and hilarity that will ensue!

So I do, I find the chaps stall and get the ring out of a box but then my 80 year old mind throws me a curve ball, I totally forget who I’m meant to be giving this ring to. I look around the crowd in the market, I have an inkling that it’s a chap stood right at the back which is lucky because he’s the only person I can see with pockets! I pop the ring in and wait for the hilarity to ensue!

Suddenly there is shouting, the police are being called, people are angry. The man I just gave the ring to says he’s found a ring in his pocket and the man whom I took it from is screaming for the police to arrest the thief. The police come and grab the man and drag him away. This is why I don’t do practical jokes. I feel terrible, I’ve been conned and got an innocent man arrested! I do the only thing I can do, I find the nearest pub and drown my sorrows.

While I’m drinking a monk comes and sits with me, in time we get to talking about certain urges that a man has. I tell him I’m not that way inclined. He carries on telling me that if I want a wife all I have to do is wear a special necklace and all the ladies will know I’m looking for love. The monk sells me this necklace and I put it on instantly. I don’t know if this guy is a monk or he’s fleecing me with this necklace, but I’m very aroused and will do anything I can to find myself a willing woman! My hope is now that I will entice a woman to my bosom and me to hers. Not any woman though, I’ve seen lizard people and I’m sure I saw a Shrek before, green skin just doesn’t do it for me, is that racist?

I end up getting very drunk and renting a room in the pub, the lizard lady who owns the pub refused to show me to my room, I think she knew I was green skin racists, so for the next ten minutes I stagger around the pub, bursting into other peoples rooms. I nearly pass out on a bed with a nord man, he shouts at me and I eventually find my room, it’s an utter dump, I wouldn’t keep pigs in here!

When I wake up I realise I’d passed out in the utility cupboard!

I eat a hearty breakfast and decide what I need to do next with my life. I’ve achieved all the goals I’ve set out to do, I’ve not murdered anyone (not directly anyway), I’ve not stolen anything or done anything that could be considered wrong.

I think I now need to do what all men must when they feel their life is going exactly the way they expected, I need to take a wife, buy a house and settle down. So that’s exactly what I shall do! I don my wife finding necklace and head out into the world to look for love!

Look out world, Cecil is coming, and he’s randy!

End of chapter two!

Old man in Skyrim – Part 13

Piss of in a brewery
Piss of in a brewery

I walk around the brewery, inside, rather unsurprisingly there isn’t much but barrel. Unfortunately the owner is keeping his peepers on me so I can’t get in a barrel and drink my way out! In fact the staff at the brewery seem to have little interesting in getting drunk. I try to organise them to have a few rounds of drinks, but they refuse! I feel useless! They don’t have any beds or even a nice warm fire, so I know when I’m not welcome, despite the horrible rain outside I leave them to their bitter brewery, long may they rot in it!

The path outside is bleak and wet, much like my trousers. Hopefully there is somewhere close by that an 80 year old can get a little refuge. I check my map, I’m about half way to my destination of Riften, all I have to do is navigate the foot of the mountain, this is probably the coldest section of my travel but then once I’m passed it, it’s nothing but forests and streams, or so it appears on the map.

I walk in the biting rain for a good long while, nothing happens save for Meeko and I get wet and cold. We happen upon a blue glowing man killing another man, they haven’t seen me so I hid in some temporary stealth foliage, or ‘a bush’. I can’t get around the chaps locked in mortal combat, my only option is to climb up the mountain away from them. The path is steep, my ankles are very weak and cold, I need to find shelter, I could build a tent but without fire it would be useless, and try as hard as I can, rubbing my wood produces nothing!


In the distance I spot an interesting rock formation, when will I learn interesting is deadly!? As I am looking around a woman jumps out and sprays me with something really cold, as always Meeko leaps to my defence. Note to self, avoid ‘interesting’! But I’m so cold I have to lay down so I make camp among the stones, I try one last try to make fire and hours after rubbing my wood, something emerges! Flames! Before long my wood is hot and I’ve pitched a big tent, and a content night’s sleep was had! Well as soundly as I while sleeping in a tent next to the corpse of a woman my dog has just murdered!

I wake up, the fire must have gone out in the night because I am freezing cold and damp! I can’t do this living rough, I need the comforts of a house. My journey must continue! On the path I spot a guard encampment, I take a close look, they have a roaring fire. It is a pleasant relief, but as I stand there they try and enlist me to fight for them. I don’t know what skills they think I could bring to their ranks. Expert drinker maybe? I decide to leave them before I’m sent to war. Two things happen when I walk out of the camp, 1)I realize Meeko hasn’t been with me all morning 2)three wolves attack me! I turn and run back to camp, the horses bolt, the guards spring into action, I cower near the stew pot. The wolves are put down with ease, but where is Meeko? Maybe if I can’t find him these guards can protect me?

Wolves did it!I find Meeko back at the stones where I made camp, he’s just stood there all innocent. I’m worried about his mental condition, he has killed an awful lot of people, he was locked in a three day tussle with a mammoth and now he’s forgetting to follow me. I hope nothing goes wrong with him before I reach Riften, I’d be dead many times over if it weren’t for him!

On the road ahead I see a big bridge over the large river to me left, there are people all over it. I can’t imagine this will end well! I’m terrified to approach it, but I’m dying of cold so I have get past some how or my old man skin will freeze.

Bridge over troubled water
Bridge over troubled water

Oh god, there’s people running around with bows shooting at something, this isn’t good, either they are bandits killing people or people defending themselves from some other kind of horror, maybe crabs? Either way I have to get by them as quietly as possible. My only worry is Meeko will try and slaughter them all. This is it, if he kills someone I shall have to abandon him, I can’t abide the thought of all this murder, I’d rather use my old sneaky skills rather than let him slaughter more people.  Ok here goes!

Unbelievable! We sneak past without a single drop of blood being spilled, and as if the weather was a literal metaphor for my life, the clouds parted and the rain stopped, the sun came out and everything seemed right with the world once more! Yes, I was still very cold and damp but now the sun was out.

Things were finally looking up, the birds were singing, the sky was blue, the sun was shining and there was the sound of laughter in the air.

The sound of laughter? I’m sure I heard giggling! Slight exploration found the source of the mirth! My jaw hits the ground!

Hot springs
Hot springs

Hot springs! oh warm water to sooth my aching old body, a geyser for an old geezer, I approach the warm water only to discover this! People, almost naked people! I feel very embarrassed especially as I had stripped off not knowing there were people right here, I thought I could sneak in a cheeky nude dip with no one seeing my modesty loin cloth. Meeko jumps in the water, I fear he will kill them all, but no, he lays down next to a woman and enjoys the hot water, it’s only polite that I have a chat but for a gathering of naked people, they are surprisingly grumpy!

Hotter springs!
Hotter springs!

Old man in Skyrim – Part 12

The Premise
Skyrim is a vast sprawling game, you can pretty much do anything you want, so I decided to live in Skyrim, to see how an old man coped with the harsh environment and bizarre folk that inhabit this land. This is my tale!

The Rules
80 year old man in Skyrim.
Only doing what an average 80 year old can do.
No constantly running, using shouts (special powerful magics), magic or fast travel.
No murder or stealing or anything unethical, should always try to run away from a fight.
Read part eleven here –

Is it a town? Is there a pub?
Is it a town? Is there a pub?

I take the lightweight sphere in my backpack and head over to the large structures in the distance. It’s too big to be a fort, it looks like a town! As I make my way to what I assume are the front gates, I notice a higher than usual level of guardage about, there’s chaps in uniforms all over the place, they’re quite scary, so scary in fact even the chickens are hiding from them.

What did the guards do, to scare this chicken so?
What did the guards do, to scare this chicken so?

Maybe this isn’t the place an old bard should be investigating, but night’s drawing in and my penis is getting mighty chilly. So I press on and approach the door guards. He’s very charming and opens the gates for me, which just goes to show, never judge a book by its cover, it might be erotic inside.

This town is very pretty, far prettier than I expected, there’s quaint little houses everywhere and trees lining the streets, oh it’s lovely! Even a market square with added drunk tramp, if he dies I know where I can come and apply for a job!

There are some very pretty women in this town, very pretty!

It's nice in Whiterun
It’s nice in Whiterun

The hobo begs me to go steel some booze for him, he clearly knows a kindred drunkard when he sees one, but if I ever did steal booze, it would be for me and not someone else, I of course walk away from him while he’s in mid slurred sentence.

I take a break from gawping at ladies to sit down and listen to a raving lunatic, he’s quite entertaining but I’m still cold so I try entering a few of the public buildings.
I go in what looks like some kind of rudimentary hospital, or building where you go to writhe around in agony on benches while women gossip about if their husband is homosexual or not. I have a look around and see a strange object, it might house a genie so I rub it hoping for three wishes. Not a lot happens though it did slightly look like a lady’s naughty bits, if I squint, so I leave the building feeling a little randy.

Having been turned on by magic vagina stones I start chatting to the local ladies, a woman called Ysolda in particular, she is training to be a merchant, maybe I could be a merchant, maybe we could be merchants together? Preferable nude! It’s better than being a nude bard, Ysolda asks me if I could find her a mammoth tusk, I lose my erection and nearly walk away from her, but there’s something about her blank expressionless face I quite like and tell her that I might find one somehow.

I venture into another shop and sell some of the junk/plants I’ve acquired on my walk, I make a whopping 204 gold, so if nothing else that’s sorted tonight’s inn sleep and booze!
Walking into the inn I of course come face to face with this singing anus! I have a chat with him, if only to stop him singing, he boasts about his skill with ‘the ladies’ and apparently got kicked out of the bards college because he slept with the head mistress or her husband, he wasn’t very clear.

Then I begin the evenings drinking session in gusto, once the alcohol has got the better of me I spend a wondrous twenty minutes talking to and standing far too close to this woman, I think I’m talking, I’m certainly gawping down her cleavage.


I then go up to my room, and oh boy, what luxury! After several days of sleeping in the wilds in a tent this room is a palace! I flop onto the bed and the tedious wailing and moaning of the bard puts me to sleep, either that or the 8 bottles of ale I’ve drunk.

Day 18
Morning has broken! I get up and head out onto my private balcony that is only for me and maybe a guest I might have in my room only to find a bloke sat there, cool as a cucumber, I try asking him what the bloody hell he is playing at but he just runs away while I’m in mid-sentence. That’s very rude! Very rude!

On my private balcony!
On my private balcony!

I enjoy my breakfast of a sweetroll and cheese and raw clam meat, I think I’m still drunk, why did I eat raw clam meat?! I hope I can keep it down.
I venture downstairs and ask the barmaid if she has any easy work for a man of my years, she asks me to murder someone, I turn and walk away, yes it is rude, but she’s asking me to murder, that’s the height of rudeness!

Heading outside, it’s raining heavily again, I make sure Meeko is with me and we press on with our journey to Riften. However, the rain is so heavy and cold that I have to try and find shelter within minutes of starting out. The first building I see is large wooden and oh god, it’s a brewery!!

So how do you organize a piss up?
So how do you organize a piss up?

Next time – Can I organize a piss up in a brewery?