Read August's The Edge as a PDF - The Edge Magazine
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theEDGE<br />
MACK<br />
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ISSUE NO: 178<br />
‘THE CHELMSFORD FANZINE’<br />
AUGUST 2011<br />
shaun@theedgemag.co.uk <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> Chelmsford CM2 6XD Telephone 01245 348256 Mobile: 077 646 797 44
NOW RECRUITING<br />
We are currently looking for Stylists to join<br />
our busy and creative team at TONI&GUY Chelmsford<br />
Ple<strong>as</strong>e call for details<br />
To book an appointment ple<strong>as</strong>e call or visit :<br />
T : 01245 256460<br />
225/226 Moulsham Street, Chelmsford, CM2 0LR
Coming to a campsite near you...<br />
This is me and my mate J-Cloth, readers, at your editor’s 50th birthday<br />
celebratory weekend ‘camping’ not up a mountain, but in the middle of a<br />
field near the wonderful Dorset co<strong>as</strong>t. To be fair, we didn’t go so far <strong>as</strong> to<br />
sniff each others shirts, but J-Cloth does actually own a horse and, what’s<br />
more, knows how to ride one.....which saved my hind quarters.<br />
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TEL: 01245 451651<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 077 646 797 44 Page 3
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> Editor’s Column<br />
OH BUGGER<br />
I tend to get a bit flustered when stuff such <strong>as</strong><br />
my car not starting happens because (a) I know<br />
sweet bugger all about the mechanisms of cars,<br />
or any working or non-working machine, come<br />
to that. And (b) I immediately think that I need a<br />
new one <strong>as</strong> it must obviously be completely<br />
spent.<br />
As it turned out, it w<strong>as</strong> only the battery that<br />
needed replacing.<br />
“I’ve got one on the van with me, if you’d like<br />
me to fit it for you, sir?” said the kindly AA man.<br />
“How much?” immediately replied the northerner<br />
deep-set within me.<br />
“£105,” said he.<br />
“Ooooh, in that c<strong>as</strong>e, can you just get me<br />
started instead, ple<strong>as</strong>e.” I offered.<br />
Which he did. Only then I had to suffer the<br />
sheer trepidation of a new battery costing me<br />
more from the guys I use at round at C&C (off<br />
Navigation Road, readers, if you want to save<br />
yourselves some money getting your car fixed<br />
and serviced), not to mention the terror of me<br />
actually stalling the damn thing on my drive<br />
OFFER 1<br />
round there. Figuring I hadn’t stalled a car since<br />
I w<strong>as</strong> 17, I decided to risk it.<br />
Bingo! Ended up saving myself thirty quid on the<br />
battery. Only then I got to wondering (and not<br />
for the first time) how tight that actually makes<br />
me? I mean, it w<strong>as</strong> absolutely hissing it down<br />
when the AA man got me going again and the<br />
temptation to say to him, “Oh, go on then, stick<br />
it on” when he offered me his battery w<strong>as</strong><br />
immense, <strong>as</strong> it certainly would have saved me a<br />
drive out in such deplorable conditions.<br />
But it wouldn’t have saved me 30 quid, would it?<br />
No, it wouldn’t, Mr. Squeaky Pockets.<br />
Yep, that’s me. Tight <strong>as</strong> arseholes!<br />
PULA<br />
Did you see that ‘Three Men in a Boat’ thing<br />
(Rory McGrath - <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s favourite, Dara<br />
O’Briain - too fat, and Griff Rhys Jones - doesn’t<br />
drink, so don’t trust him) where they went to<br />
Venice?<br />
Loved it.<br />
However, <strong>as</strong> soon <strong>as</strong> Rory walked into the<br />
Roman amphitheatre at Pula, Croatia, I w<strong>as</strong><br />
clenching my fist and going “Yesss!” at the TV<br />
screen in agreement, for this is what he said:<br />
“It’s better than the one in Rome, isn’t it?”<br />
BLOODY HELL<br />
What the hell’s happened to all me advertisers?<br />
<strong>The</strong> July <strong>Edge</strong> w<strong>as</strong> such a good edition (well, I<br />
thought it w<strong>as</strong>) then woomph, the arse h<strong>as</strong> just<br />
fallen right out of it.<br />
“We’ll be back in September,” many of my<br />
regulars have said, “but everyone’s away in<br />
August, so it’s not worth bothering about.”<br />
Isn’t it?<br />
Well, it h<strong>as</strong> been for the p<strong>as</strong>t 14 years, so<br />
what’s so bloody different about 2011?<br />
Sod it, then. I may <strong>as</strong> well get our tent out and<br />
bugger off camping to Cornwall with Mrs <strong>Edge</strong>!<br />
REFUSES TO MEND<br />
If there’s anyone out there who reckons they<br />
can fix my shoulder and receive a glowing<br />
report in <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> for doing so, then ple<strong>as</strong>e do<br />
get in touch.<br />
<strong>The</strong> problem h<strong>as</strong> honestly been dragging on for<br />
2 - 3 months now and I’ve completely had<br />
enough.<br />
It’s times like these you wish you had BUPA, I<br />
can tell you, yet nor have I the spare funds to be<br />
knocking on the door of the Springfield Medical<br />
Centre either, more’s the pity.<br />
My shoulder is genuinely stopping me doing the<br />
sporting activities I like to participate in, not to<br />
mention restricting me in other ways too numerous<br />
to mention. So ple<strong>as</strong>e, is there’s anyone out<br />
there, kindly get in touch.<br />
GIMP BOY/GIRL<br />
I w<strong>as</strong> actually serious when I mentioned, in l<strong>as</strong>t<br />
months mag, that I needed a Gimp boy/girl or<br />
college leaver (whatever) to do stuff for <strong>The</strong><br />
<strong>Edge</strong> on t’internet, Facecock and Twatter etc.,<br />
so lets be hearing from anyone who believes<br />
themselves to be w<strong>as</strong>ting far too much time on<br />
such sites with no real purpose in mind.<br />
BUS INTO TOWN<br />
Got the bus into town the other day (well, you’ve<br />
got to these days, haven’t you) and the Polish<br />
driver sullenly requested two pounds something<br />
or other to take me to the station.<br />
“Eh?” said I. “But it w<strong>as</strong> only £1.70 a week or so<br />
ago.”<br />
“Always been this price,” he said.<br />
Before proceeding to take me all around the<br />
fecking houses just so’s I got my money’s worth.<br />
THE EDGE Chelmsford CM2 6XD<br />
01245 348256<br />
shaun@theedgemag.co.uk<br />
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We are just 50 metres from the County Hotel! LATE NIGHTS: Wednesdays & Fridays<br />
Page 4 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256
That’s Not Me<br />
So I’m sat with the quack. Nice (youngish) lady<br />
and I am busy pouring my heart out to her<br />
over my busted shoulder. I am telling her, “It’s<br />
been three months now and the darn thing is<br />
refusing to heal.”<br />
So she h<strong>as</strong> a little feel of it (the shoulder). It’s<br />
a hot morning and her hands are nice and cold<br />
on my skin.<br />
“Hmmmm,” she says, before picking up the<br />
telephone. When it is answered, she says, “I<br />
have a fifty year old man...”<br />
‘Tum-tee-tum’ I am musing, <strong>as</strong> I am sitting<br />
their, patiently waiting for her to attend to her<br />
other business of the day.<br />
“....with a continuing shoulder complaint....”<br />
AND THAT’S WHEN IT STRUCK ME LIKE A<br />
BOLT OF LIGHTENING FROM RIGHT OUT<br />
OF THE BLUE, readers, for she w<strong>as</strong> actually<br />
talking about meeeeee!<br />
Christ, when she mentioned the word fifty<br />
down the blower, I thought she w<strong>as</strong> on about<br />
some old geezer like the bloke above. Only<br />
she w<strong>as</strong>n’t. She had my records up on her<br />
screen and she w<strong>as</strong> damn well talking about<br />
me. Bloody me?<br />
Well, that really w<strong>as</strong> a shock, I can tell you.<br />
Just not used to being 50 at all, yet.<br />
SHITTO<br />
What’s the point of one totally unsuspecting<br />
person winning something ridiculous like<br />
£160million (or whatever the <strong>as</strong>tronomical<br />
figure w<strong>as</strong>) on the weekly Lotto (or Euro Lotto<br />
or whatever it’s bloody well called) when what<br />
they ought be doing in such situations - if that’s<br />
the amount in the kitty - is guaranteeing sixteen<br />
separate winners a one million knicker c<strong>as</strong>h<br />
bonanza each.<br />
Why give just one person far too much and an<br />
amount they clearly wouldn’t be suitably capable<br />
of handling, no matter how much they might<br />
want it, when you could make sixteen people<br />
literally piss their pants with happiness instead?<br />
For instance, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> spends a quid per<br />
week on the Lotto and h<strong>as</strong> only ever won a<br />
tenner. What sort of a return is that?<br />
Just say, though, just say, that if every one of<br />
the 10,000 people who pick up a copy of <strong>The</strong><br />
<strong>Edge</strong> every month were to put a fiver each into<br />
a pot and we all drew straws, then the lucky<br />
winner would walk away with £50,000 on a<br />
regular monthly b<strong>as</strong>is.<br />
Now I am telling you straight, readers, I would<br />
far rather spend £60 per year with the chance<br />
of winning £50,000 every single month than<br />
shell out £52 per year and carry on winning<br />
sweet bugger all on the Lotto like I have been<br />
doing for God knows how long. What say you?<br />
Because if you all think the same way <strong>as</strong> <strong>The</strong><br />
<strong>Edge</strong> does, hell, why don’t we JUST DO IT?<br />
Oh sure, no doubt there are laws against doing<br />
such a thing, but I’m almost certain our very<br />
own Kingpin could find a way around them.<br />
So how about it?<br />
I honestly think it would be BRILLIANT and I’d<br />
even be happy for whoever won the fifty grand<br />
each month....where<strong>as</strong> I both loathe, hate and<br />
despise those lucky, lucky Lotto winners.<br />
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www.theedgemag.co.uk Page 5
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WHAT THIS PICTURE SAYS TO THE EDGE...<br />
“Niall Teague & <strong>The</strong> F<strong>as</strong>t Company....probably the best Irish band in the world.”<br />
<strong>The</strong>y were certainly playing outside the best pub in the world (the Square & Comp<strong>as</strong>s at Worth<br />
Matravers, situated at the head of a valley running down to the ‘Ledges of Winspit’ on the beautiful<br />
jur<strong>as</strong>sic co<strong>as</strong>t) and it just so happened to be on the weekend of my 50th birthday celebrations, so<br />
how lucky a bloke w<strong>as</strong> I?<br />
We also got wind of the fact that the weather back in Chelmsford w<strong>as</strong> somewhat inclement to say<br />
the very le<strong>as</strong>t, so a double-bonus for we intrepid (eight) travellers.<br />
I’d even go so far <strong>as</strong> to say that this particular afternoon proved to be one of the best afternoons of<br />
my entire life. A great pub, great view, great people around you, lovely music and some wonderful,<br />
wonderful cider. Aye, life don’t get no simpler or t<strong>as</strong>te no sweeter.<br />
Dorset might be a few counties away from Essex, but so far <strong>as</strong> I’m concerned, it might <strong>as</strong> well be<br />
another bloody country entirely, for every time I visit, I feel <strong>as</strong> though I’m entering an entirely<br />
different land and culture, particularly the bit we go to.<br />
When you come to think about it, the magic doesn’t<br />
happen very often in life, does it? And sometimes it<br />
really does seem to be that you’ve got to have a<br />
really major excuse to get the people you want all<br />
together, even if it’s just eight. In this particular<br />
instance, six months notice had to be given!<br />
Well worth the wait though.<br />
So how does this ‘old man’ feel now that his long<br />
weekend of celebrations are finally over?<br />
Gutted. Absolutely gutted. Because now I’m just<br />
another middle-aged fella struggling and muddling<br />
his way through life, yet for one afternoon at le<strong>as</strong>t, it<br />
honestly felt <strong>as</strong> though things couldn’t get any better.<br />
Dancing the afternoon away...<br />
Big venue stadiums, crap, overpriced lager and the<br />
music belting out to a 75,000 crowd, or something far more intimate just off the co<strong>as</strong>t?<br />
Anyway, why don’t you check out both the Square &<br />
Comp<strong>as</strong>s and Niall Teague & <strong>The</strong> F<strong>as</strong>t Company on the<br />
web for a little flavour of what you missed.<br />
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I should be promoting a local pub<br />
and a local band, but cut me some slack, will you, readers,<br />
cos I’m feeling incredibly tender right about now, seeing <strong>as</strong><br />
I’ve reached such a ripe old age.<br />
Cheers!<br />
Even the dogs were lapping it up.<br />
Mr. Charisma aka Kelvin Busher on<br />
the double b<strong>as</strong>s - a right cheeky<br />
chappy if ever there w<strong>as</strong> one.<br />
Page 6 shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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<strong>The</strong> Tacky One<br />
Don’t you just love Essex, what with its sleazy<br />
reputation and the general consensus of it being<br />
the ‘tacky one’ of the Home Counties?<br />
Not fair, is it?<br />
I honestly don’t have any friends called Sharon<br />
or Tracy and I’ve never worn a pair of six inch<br />
stilettos, never mind white ones.<br />
I thought there might just have been a slim<br />
chance of the ‘Essex Girl’ stereotype becoming<br />
dated and fading away into obscurity, and it<br />
actually did seem <strong>as</strong> though there w<strong>as</strong> a fighting<br />
chance for our beloved county to redeem itself<br />
at one time. But then something happened.<br />
That bloody TV show and its shameless typec<strong>as</strong>ting,<br />
ruining any chance Essex ever had of<br />
recovering its reputation.<br />
I think it borders on slander.<br />
However, the thing that gets me is that many<br />
people in Essex actually seem to watch it and<br />
lap it up. Encourage it, even.<br />
If the excited Facebook status updates about<br />
what’s going on in the nonsensical show from<br />
people who I hesitate to call my friends w<strong>as</strong>n’t<br />
enough to convince me of it, the fact that Dukes<br />
recently used a ‘<strong>The</strong> Only Way Is Essex<br />
Reunion Party’ <strong>as</strong> a promotion finally brought it<br />
home to me LOUD & CLEAR. If Dukes thought<br />
they could market the craze, then the clamour<br />
surrounding ‘<strong>The</strong> Only Way Is Essex’ w<strong>as</strong> clearly<br />
worse than I initially suspected.<br />
N.B. Just for the record, Dukes promotion did<br />
really well and I am told the night in question<br />
w<strong>as</strong> “really good”, God help us.<br />
I remember first seeing the TV ad for the show<br />
and my eyes actually widened in disbelief before<br />
turning to horror. I thought, “Oh ple<strong>as</strong>e, God,<br />
noooo!’ And I’d hoped with all my heart that it<br />
would simply cr<strong>as</strong>h and burn.<br />
Only it h<strong>as</strong>n’t. But then, it wouldn’t, would it.<br />
Because perhaps the sheer ridiculousness of<br />
the show somehow makes it (ahem) ‘compulsive<br />
viewing’.<br />
I honestly can’t see it myself. It frustrates me.<br />
I tried to bring myself to watch a full episode, but<br />
couldn’t. What’s more, I’ll never try again.<br />
It’s not good for me (and it shouldn’t be good for<br />
anyone). I could feel my brain slowly w<strong>as</strong>ting<br />
away. In fact, its only redeeming feature appears<br />
to be that it’s set off a chain reaction so a whole<br />
host of other equally God awful ‘reality’ shows<br />
seem to be popping up, like ‘Geordie Shore’ and<br />
‘Made In Chelsea’ which, on the surface, sounds<br />
like a damn good re<strong>as</strong>on to throw yourself out of<br />
the nearest window, although the way I see it is<br />
that hopefully people will be able to see that<br />
there are brainless bimbos who use far too<br />
much fake tan and boys with half-a-brain-cell<br />
who ‘go’ for said bimbos all over the country.<br />
In short, no, IT’S NOT JUST AN ESSEX THING!<br />
However, there definitely is something about<br />
Essex that sets it apart from other counties,<br />
something that makes it just that little bit.....<br />
crazier. And that is perhaps, just perhaps, we<br />
know how to have a bloody good time and TV<br />
show or not, other counties just can’t handle the<br />
fact.<br />
IKR<br />
I know I’m probably a little young to be saying<br />
this, but some of the stuff the youth of today<br />
come out with is plain ridiculous.<br />
Take, for instance, the word ‘awesomated’. It’s<br />
something my younger sister brought home from<br />
school. So I looked it up on Urban Dictionary,<br />
mostly to check the spelling, and it’s defined <strong>as</strong>:<br />
the state of being better than 'awesome'.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n there’s my brother’s favourite ‘bare hilare’<br />
which is defined <strong>as</strong>: a phr<strong>as</strong>e used to describe<br />
someone who is very funny.<br />
Forget the words, how about the acronyms?<br />
Bloody confusing! IKR (I know, right)?!?!<br />
But it’s not just the youth of today, is it? <strong>The</strong><br />
weirdest thing of all, I think, is when I hear my<br />
very own father, a learned man, using such<br />
‘youthisms’. For instance, just the other day he<br />
replied to a comment left on a forum, mentioning<br />
in his post that he w<strong>as</strong> ‘ROFL’ (rolling on floor<br />
laughing) at the other persons comment.<br />
In fact, come to think of it, it w<strong>as</strong> actually my<br />
very own dad that introduced me to ‘LOL’.<br />
Bollocks To Poverty<br />
I’m excited!<br />
Want to know why?<br />
This month, I’m throwing a m<strong>as</strong>sive Pre-V, Post-<br />
(exam) Results Party for charity <strong>as</strong> part of the<br />
’Bollocks To Poverty’ tour, and it is going to be<br />
frigging AWESOME!<br />
ActionAid, an international development charity,<br />
works with some of the poorest people and<br />
communities in the world and co-ordinates the<br />
‘Bollocks To Poverty’ tour. By going to, or putting<br />
on, an event <strong>as</strong> part of the tour, anyone can help<br />
their vital work in Africa, Asia and the Americ<strong>as</strong>,<br />
and play a part in the ongoing fight against global<br />
poverty.<br />
Everything’s set up. I’ve got an awesome venue,<br />
some awesome DJ’s and - yes, you guessed it -<br />
an awesome charity to support!<br />
Want to join me?<br />
We’ll be partying at <strong>The</strong> bar in Chelmsford from<br />
10pm ’til 2am on Thursday 18th August to the<br />
sounds of commercial, electro, house, breaks,<br />
dubstep and trance, with DJ Gary Bright plus a<br />
couple of Essential Clubbers DJ’s. Tickets are<br />
£4.50 on the door, or £3.50 prior, and at le<strong>as</strong>t £1<br />
from each ticket goes straight to ActionAid<br />
(registered charity no. 274467).<br />
In fact, it’s going to be so, erm, awesome that I<br />
know a couple of people from Holland who are<br />
thinking about coming over just for the night!<br />
So ple<strong>as</strong>e have a look at the website<br />
www.wix.com/vipro5/partyforcharity to find out<br />
more about the charity, the event, and the DJ’s.<br />
Or simply go ahead and buy your advance<br />
tickets by going to www.wegottickets.com and<br />
searching for ‘Pre-V, Post-Results Party For<br />
Charity’.<br />
Hey, and do tell all your friends and your neighbours<br />
and hell, even your neighbours dog, if<br />
they’ve got one. In fact, why not let the whole<br />
world know. Yeah, let’s get up and party and say<br />
absolute bollocks to poverty!<br />
For more information about ‘Bollocks to Poverty’<br />
and ActionAid, ple<strong>as</strong>e visit...<br />
www.actionaid.org.uk/bollocks<br />
And for anything else regarding this event,<br />
tickets and any other enquiries, simply email<br />
v.i.pro@live.co.uk<br />
Hey, readers, I guess we’ve got to cut Satin<br />
some slack <strong>as</strong> she is <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s youngest<br />
writer by some considerable margin...and we<br />
were young once too. Remember? E.E.<br />
Page 8 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256
OH NO, NOT AGAIN, MAURICE!<br />
Hi Shaun,<br />
Enclosed photo taken in Zand Square - Brugge. Had a long weekend<br />
there with my wife celebrating our 50th Wedding Anniversary.<br />
Not looking overly happy <strong>as</strong> it rained all the time and the food and drink<br />
w<strong>as</strong> very expensive.<br />
Left a copy of the June <strong>Edge</strong> at the Park Hotel where we stayed.<br />
Best wishes,<br />
Maurice Crick.<br />
Ahhhh, Maurice lad, whatever is <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> going to do with you, eh?<br />
Come on, admit it, you just like appearing in the mag, don’t you?<br />
I mean, whatever is this photograph? I can’t fathom it out. Looks like<br />
you’re on a rooftop with some chimney stacks, or perhaps somewhere in<br />
Beaulieu Park. Bugger, that’s it! You’re in Beaulieu Park, aren’t you, lad?<br />
And this is just another one of your ploys to get your picture in <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong><br />
wearing those ultra-scary sungl<strong>as</strong>ses of yours that make you look <strong>as</strong> if<br />
you’re about to morph into a bluebottle or something.<br />
Tell you what, Mo, let’s cut out the middleman (<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>) and announce<br />
to the readers that if they want to see any more photographs of you<br />
holding a copy of the mag, they can always find you at Costa Coffee! E.E.<br />
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This voucher entitles you to 50% off your total food bill<br />
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Enter your details, bring along this<br />
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for the bill.<br />
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Loch Fyne World Tour<br />
Flavours of the Caribbean come to Loch Fyne<br />
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Join us for a mouth-watering three course dinner<br />
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Bookings now being taken.<br />
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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 077 646 797 44 Page 9
Self Defence Programmes, B<strong>as</strong>ic Martial Arts<br />
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EDGE ROUND UP<br />
Paperboys Raised £3,000<br />
Not sure enough credit went to <strong>The</strong> Paperboys for completing the London to<br />
Brighton 54 mile cycle ride in aid of the British Heart Foundation, <strong>as</strong> featured<br />
in l<strong>as</strong>t months <strong>Edge</strong>, so here’s a bit more praise: “WELL DONE, LADS!”<br />
And the boys are (from the left): ‘Big Steve’ Yarnell, Ian Rice, Natalie Rice<br />
(Christ, a woman!), Mick Pitcher, Phil Antonio, Monty Montgomery, Frazer<br />
Wilkie and Colin Adams who all completed the route on Raleigh Choppers.<br />
<strong>The</strong> Fling<br />
Bacon & Eggs<br />
<strong>The</strong>re’s bacon & eggs for breakf<strong>as</strong>t and<br />
then there’s a canteen (on New London<br />
Road) bacon & eggs for breakf<strong>as</strong>t and<br />
oh <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s word, their grub is just<br />
so damn good. Look at this gorgeous<br />
lean bacon - done just right - poached<br />
eggs cooked to perfection with just the<br />
yellowest yolks you’ll ever see, and a<br />
chunky doorstep or two of to<strong>as</strong>ted<br />
granary bread.<br />
Yummy, yummy, yummy. Top quality.<br />
“This year’s festival of <strong>as</strong>sorted amusements w<strong>as</strong> exactly that and we’re again<br />
overjoyed with its continuing success,” says Liam Rich, Cultural Events<br />
Manager of CBC. “Audience numbers were up on l<strong>as</strong>t year and there were<br />
more artists and performers on site than ever before. <strong>The</strong>re’s far too much for<br />
everyone to see, but this means everyone h<strong>as</strong> different stories to tell. <strong>The</strong><br />
Fling currently displays the tip of the creative iceberg that exists locally and in<br />
future years we’ll be inviting even more people to get involved, perhaps organising<br />
their own space or revealing hidden talents for others to enjoy at the festival.<br />
Perhaps it will be bigger and l<strong>as</strong>t longer, although <strong>The</strong> Fling will always<br />
remain warm and intimate. many thanks to everyone who came, made stuff,<br />
dressed up and danced. We look forward to seeing you all again next time!”<br />
Chelmsford Beer Festival 2011<br />
Yet another resounding success - although the weather didn’t help - with<br />
cider sales amazingly up somewhere between 35% - 45%.<br />
And can <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> ple<strong>as</strong>e go on record for thanking all of the CAMRA staff<br />
who lay on our fant<strong>as</strong>tic annual piss-up, because they’re all volunteers,<br />
readers, ever l<strong>as</strong>t and lovely one of ’em. Some even have to give up over a<br />
week of their annual holiday entitlement from their real jobs, and if that isn’t<br />
showing devotion to the cause, this mag doesn’t know what does.<br />
Page 10 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256
<strong>The</strong> Editor <strong>as</strong>sures me that, contrary<br />
to what I inferred from the conversation<br />
detailed in the June <strong>Edge</strong>, the<br />
public don’t actually want to read the<br />
same article every month. So, it’s<br />
back to the grindstone, when I w<strong>as</strong><br />
looking forward to graceful retirement….<br />
All this controversy h<strong>as</strong> got me<br />
thinking. Whatever the tedium and<br />
disenchantment engendered by reading<br />
the same content month after<br />
month, year after year, there are certain<br />
things we expect to have a similarity<br />
time after time. Take, for example,<br />
the Dickens novel to which I<br />
referred (also June <strong>Edge</strong>). Obviously<br />
no-one would want or expect<br />
Dickens to write out the same novel<br />
every few yearsw and submit it for<br />
publication in the same form with the<br />
same title; that would be crazy and<br />
pointless, wouldn’t it? Suppose,<br />
however, you had fond, schoolday<br />
memories of reading one of his<br />
tomes and decided to buy a new edition<br />
of it and rediscover its prolix<br />
delights. You wouldn’t, in those circumstances,<br />
expect to find chapters<br />
presented out of order, new characters<br />
inserted and the ending<br />
changed, simply because the editor<br />
had thought it would sell more<br />
copies, would you? You’d clearly<br />
want to re-read the book you remembered.<br />
And so it is with beers. We all look<br />
forward to a certain degree of innovation<br />
and experimentation when<br />
experiencing a new beer we’ve not<br />
tried before, even though these days<br />
that often results in an excess of citric<br />
bitterness more suited to w<strong>as</strong>hing-up<br />
liquid than beer. But we don’t<br />
expect to find that someone h<strong>as</strong><br />
played around with a good beer<br />
we’ve returned to time after time,<br />
almost to the point of it being a new<br />
beer under an old name.<br />
Oft-times, however, that’s exactly<br />
what happens, particularly when an<br />
established brewery with a certain<br />
reputation gets snapped up by one<br />
of its competitors. Is the buyer, often<br />
a large multi-national company, really<br />
interested in the flavour of the<br />
beer and the heritage surrounding its<br />
production? Or are they actually<br />
interested in the reputation that goes<br />
with the name?<br />
David Sherman’s<br />
BEVERAGE<br />
REPORT<br />
It’s notable that many people, even<br />
those with some knowledge and<br />
experience of the world of beer, will<br />
‘drink the name’ instead of t<strong>as</strong>ting<br />
the beer, rather like people who went<br />
to see Bob Dylan in the nineties and<br />
‘applauded the memory’, rather than<br />
booing the performances. <strong>The</strong> first<br />
brewery to benefit from this lack of<br />
objectivity amongst the ale-drinking<br />
public w<strong>as</strong> Greene King. “I remember<br />
in the 70s,” one fifty-something<br />
drinker told me, “CAMRA members<br />
used to travel for miles to drink<br />
Greene King IPA.” He doesn’t<br />
remember that at all, of course,<br />
because there w<strong>as</strong> no beer called<br />
Greene King IPA in the seventies;<br />
it’s a mid-80s re-badging of Greene<br />
King Bitter. “<strong>The</strong>y won’t touch it now,<br />
but it h<strong>as</strong>n’t chnaged,” he continued.<br />
It h<strong>as</strong> changed. L<strong>as</strong>t time I saw any<br />
form of ingredients listing for Greene<br />
King IPA, it included First Gold hops,<br />
a new variety developed in the late-<br />
80s. Unless Dr. Who is one of GKs<br />
brewing consultants, it’s unlikely<br />
they were in the beer 35 years ago.<br />
One h<strong>as</strong> to wonder if the same fate,<br />
or worse, will befall Sharp’s beers.<br />
Brewed in Cornwall by one of the<br />
most successful new micros, their<br />
beers have now been absorbed into<br />
the portfolio of mineral-water producers<br />
Molson Coors. Is this giant<br />
American piss-merchant really interested<br />
in keeping a small brewery<br />
churning out five or six beers in a<br />
remote corner of England? Or are<br />
they just after the flagship session<br />
bitter, Doom Bar? Doom Bar h<strong>as</strong><br />
developed, in recent years, a national<br />
reputation (which is, of course,<br />
what first brought it to the attention<br />
of the <strong>as</strong>set-stripping arm of the<br />
brewing industry), and rightly so. It’s<br />
a good, solid beer of reliable quality,<br />
striking the right balance between<br />
lightness of touch and fullness of<br />
flavour.<br />
Or so it w<strong>as</strong>. It could just be an<br />
unfortunate blip, c<strong>as</strong>k beer being<br />
naturally variable and all, but the<br />
other weekend at a pub of generally<br />
impeccable quality, my pint of<br />
Molson Coors Sharp’s Doom Bar<br />
(a name which sticks in the throat for<br />
re<strong>as</strong>ons other than length) w<strong>as</strong><br />
bland, featureless and dull.<br />
Anyone remember Boddington’s?<br />
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TV presenters Neil Domoney and<br />
Bonnie Davies along with<br />
Chelmsford’s very own Chris<br />
Bonnet of Gardening Express.<br />
Gardening ON-LINE<br />
Have any of you readers received a copy of the chunky, glossy, highly polished<br />
(although can you ever really polish a turd?) So Essex magazine<br />
through your letterboxes recently, readers?<br />
In it, on pages 70 and 71, to be precise (Jesus, it’d take <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> a few<br />
issues to produce that many pages), there’s an article on a local Chelmsford<br />
bloke called Chris Bonnett who’s built up his online internet gardening plant<br />
& shrub supply service from a patch of unused earth in his parent’s back<br />
garden into a £1million turnover business over the p<strong>as</strong>t 10 years, and the<br />
fella’s still only 29.<br />
Well, Chris got in touch with <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> and invited me over for a brew and a<br />
chat. I say ‘a brew’, only I noticed he declined when offered one by a<br />
member of his staff, and when I t<strong>as</strong>ted mine, bugger - it surely qualified <strong>as</strong><br />
the worst cup of char anyone’s ever made me, bland and t<strong>as</strong>teless <strong>as</strong> it w<strong>as</strong>.<br />
In fact, I w<strong>as</strong> actually preparing to sod the interview and jump straight back<br />
into my <strong>Edge</strong>mobile when...<br />
“I’m going to be on the tele,” said Chris. “It’s a brand new C5 show called<br />
Garden ER, which also spells gardener.....get it?.”<br />
“Oh eye, lad, eye,” I confirmed. “<strong>The</strong>re’s no flies on me.”<br />
“It’s a weekly show aimed at putting the fun back into gardening, and I even<br />
managed to wangle a brand new water feature for my own garden out of<br />
them <strong>as</strong> well, which w<strong>as</strong> handy. <strong>The</strong> show covers real garden makeovers,<br />
with real prices and the time involved. And there’s some great<br />
ide<strong>as</strong> on how to turn a garden shed from shabby to chic...”<br />
“Every man loves his garden shed,” chimed I. “Someone<br />
even bought me a couple of books about the subject for<br />
my birthday, entitled ‘Shed Men’ and ‘Men & Sheds’.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y’re about....”<br />
“Whoa! <strong>Edge</strong> bloke. This article is surely about me and not<br />
you yet again, isn’t it? So, <strong>as</strong> I w<strong>as</strong> saying, Garden ER....yes, you’ll no doubt<br />
be interested to know that there’s a pimp my shed section, where rundown<br />
garden sheds are totally transformed. <strong>The</strong>n there’s a help and advice section<br />
<strong>as</strong> the team sorts out viewers embarr<strong>as</strong>sing gardening gaffs. <strong>The</strong>re’ll also be<br />
a bit of green-fingered gadget testing, plus a look behind the garden gate into<br />
some of Britain’s celebrities’ gardens. <strong>The</strong> whole aim of the shows is to<br />
demystify gardening and bring back the fun element that Ground Force used<br />
to tap into.”<br />
“W’hey, Ground Force,” I repeated. “<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> should feature that on its TV<br />
Gold section <strong>as</strong> I honestly used to love that programme, and not just<br />
because of Charlie Dimmock’s hooters either.”<br />
Page 12 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 077 646 797 44<br />
“Quite.”<br />
5<br />
“OK, Chris, back to you then, sir. Now, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> gathers that you already<br />
send plants out to all corners of England, Scotland and Wales, so whatever<br />
next? Ever considered thinking about Europe?”<br />
“To be honest with you,” says Chris, “I have been thinking about it. One step<br />
at a time though, so it’d be Germany first. In fact, your <strong>Edge</strong> might be able to<br />
help us recruit someone who could help us translate our website into<br />
German and handle all the customer calls the new site would hopefully<br />
produce?”<br />
Any budding gardeners and/or bi-linguists out there should simply log on to<br />
gardeningexpress.co.uk
Looking Gooooooooood!<br />
A lovely couple by the name of Liz & Eddie took over <strong>The</strong> Crown in<br />
Sandon in February and after a complete overhaul......damn, it is looking<br />
mighty fine, reports <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> Editor.<br />
You know when you step inside somewhere that’s just right, just so? Well,<br />
that’s the feeling I instantly got when I first set foot inside <strong>The</strong> Crown just<br />
the other week and unfortunately that is such a rare feeling because most<br />
folk who take over pubs honestly tend to balls things up.<br />
But not Liz and Eddie. No way. Without a shadow of a doubt, they have<br />
put there mark on the place and made <strong>The</strong> Crown look, in <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s<br />
humble opinion, exactly how it should have always looked, yet never h<strong>as</strong><br />
in all my infrequent visits to the place.<br />
Take the sign outside, above the downstairs windows. Some people taking<br />
over might well have decided to ‘made do’ with the old sign <strong>as</strong> technically<br />
there w<strong>as</strong> nothing really wrong with it. Other than the fact that it<br />
simply w<strong>as</strong>n’t good enough and <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 100% appreciates such<br />
wonderful sentiments.<br />
“I even wanted uplighters,” says Liz, “but we weren’t allowed!”<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> is confident that new visitors to <strong>The</strong> Crown are now going to<br />
enjoy this pub <strong>as</strong> at l<strong>as</strong>t it strives to fully achieve its potential.<br />
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www.theedgemag.co.uk Page 13
Spotted at <strong>The</strong> Fling<br />
And it is so annoying when some people literally refuse to get into focus!<br />
Spotted on the floor somewhere in Chelmsford...<br />
how beautiful is that?<br />
What do you mean, “It’s rude to refer to a young damsel <strong>as</strong> that?”<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> is talking about the bloody pint of beer....beautiful, it looks. In<br />
fact, it’s making the mag feel quite parched just looking at it.<br />
Tut, of course the true object of <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s desire is the pretty young lady<br />
in question.....but what if she’s got a horrible personality, eh?<br />
She probably h<strong>as</strong>n’t, but with looks like that, you possibly can have and<br />
still get away with it (<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> strongly suspects). As in:-<br />
“Hi Chloe” (wild guess).<br />
“Go drop dead, dog breath.”<br />
“But Chloe....I....I....”<br />
“Save it and get out of my face.”<br />
Like <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> says, the young l<strong>as</strong>sie in question is probably not called<br />
Chloe and, heaven forbid, doesn’t treat people like that.<br />
BUT with her looks, if she had a mind to, she probably could....and folks<br />
would still keep coming back for more!<br />
...can somebody ple<strong>as</strong>e explain?<br />
Page 14 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 077 646 797 44
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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256 Page 15
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If you have been fruitlessly searching for a pub<br />
that is quintessentially English, then <strong>The</strong> Duck<br />
Pub & Dining is the place to visit locally.<br />
Nestled between the picturesque villages of<br />
Writtle and Roxwell, <strong>The</strong> Duck sits in the tiny<br />
hamlet of Newney Green and enjoys all of the<br />
peace and quiet of the English countryside <strong>as</strong> if<br />
from a bygone era.<br />
Now under new ownership, <strong>The</strong> Duck operates<br />
<strong>as</strong> a free house.<br />
In order to wet your palate, there are always 4<br />
regional real ales available on draught plus at<br />
le<strong>as</strong>t 2 on the back bar poured at gravity. Our<br />
first cl<strong>as</strong>s selection of other drinks also includes<br />
a quality wine list and a huge selection of Malt<br />
Whiskies.<br />
On the food front, our menu reflects everything<br />
that is great about Great Britain and draws on<br />
the excellent range of food available locally, put<br />
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dishes.<br />
<strong>The</strong> Duck welcomes one and all, whether it’s to<br />
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sat around our fireside.<br />
Families are most welcome too, so why not<br />
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the duck pub & dining<br />
newney green, chelmsford.<br />
Fant<strong>as</strong>tic band playing<br />
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Since taking over the reigns, we are constantly<br />
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outside grounds currently taking presedence.<br />
However, future plans include a kitchen garden<br />
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will further enhance your visit to our pub.<br />
Birthday, anniversary and all celebrations are<br />
also naturally catered for, <strong>as</strong> are business<br />
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We very much hope to welcome you to <strong>The</strong><br />
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Beer, food, music, wine and entertainment!<br />
Friday 26th August Saturday 27th<br />
Corporate 2-course<br />
August<br />
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TICKETS £25<br />
Kicking the weekend off<br />
7pm supper with the<br />
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Wick’s Manor bangers &<br />
m<strong>as</strong>h, Lathcoat’s apple<br />
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Sunday 28th August<br />
Food & craft stalls 9-4pm<br />
Evening Barn Dance<br />
with the<br />
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from 8pm accompanied by<br />
a ploughman’s supper<br />
£15pp<br />
3 Course Lunch £10 & 3 Course Dinner £15<br />
Monday 29th<br />
August<br />
Afternoon Tea Menu<br />
+ Chelmsford Morris Men<br />
from 3pm<br />
Watch an evening play<br />
‘BLIND DATE’<br />
by Frank Marcus<br />
whilst enjoying a pie<br />
from 7pm<br />
£10 Ticket<br />
‘Sample Menu’<br />
Soup of the Day<br />
Duck Liver Parfait<br />
Melon & Grape Cocktail<br />
Fisherman’s Catch<br />
Toad in the Hole<br />
Avocado & Brie Bake<br />
all served with potatoes and a medley of fresh veg<br />
Summer Fruits Bread & Butter Pudding<br />
served with Crème Fraiche<br />
Cheesecake of the Day<br />
Selection of ice-cream<br />
Tuesday 30th<br />
August<br />
Drink us dry until it’s time<br />
to say goodbye!<br />
HALF PRICE BEER<br />
to empty the barrels!<br />
REGULAR PUB<br />
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Tuesday - Sunday<br />
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every day<br />
Closed Mondays<br />
(but OPEN on<br />
Bank Holiday<br />
Mondays!)<br />
20 different ales,<br />
stouts, porters<br />
& ciders<br />
Newney Green, Writtle, Chelmsford, CM1 3SF.<br />
TEL: 01245 421894<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256 Page 17
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Page 18 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 077 646 797 44
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www.theedgemag.co.uk Page 19
YOUR<br />
&<br />
letters<br />
emails<br />
to theedge!<br />
CHELMSFORD, CM2 6XD.<br />
shaun@theedgemag.co.uk<br />
Galactic Slag<br />
Alreet Captain,<br />
Enjoyed the mag this month (July).<br />
I noticed your bit about how you<br />
hate the winter months and thought<br />
you might like to know that (even<br />
though they don’t seem it) Winter<br />
and Autumn are shorter than<br />
Spring and Summer (at 89 days to<br />
92 days respectively).<br />
This is due to the Earth’s elliptical<br />
orbit around the Sun, meaning at<br />
some points it is closer to the Sun<br />
than at others, so it moves round it<br />
quicker. What is also interesting is<br />
that during the Winter months, the<br />
Earth is actually at perihelion,<br />
which means that’s when it’s closest<br />
to the Sun. You’d think it would<br />
be warmer then, wouldn’t you?<br />
I think it just goes to show that the<br />
very universe itself is out to ensure<br />
that thee and me are <strong>as</strong> miserable<br />
<strong>as</strong> it can possibly make us, the<br />
huge galactic slag.<br />
Kingpin.<br />
A ‘perihelion’ sounds like something<br />
you’d find in a Safari Park,<br />
old lad. E.E.<br />
Internet Rubbish<br />
Dear <strong>Edge</strong> Editor,<br />
I really cannot believe you fell for<br />
that internet rubbish about five<br />
Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays<br />
happening in July only once every<br />
823 years. That story first did the<br />
rounds at the start of the year, but<br />
referred then to January.<br />
In (almost) your lifetime, you will<br />
find the July five weekend days in<br />
the years 1960, 1966, 1977, 1983,<br />
1988, 1994, 2005 and 2011. <strong>The</strong><br />
next times are 2016 and 2022.<br />
From this you can work out that<br />
they fall in a sequence of 6, 11, 6<br />
and 5 years in every 28 years. If<br />
you doubt me, check out an old<br />
diary with dates for 2005!<br />
I think you must have had the Beer<br />
Festival on your mind when you<br />
printed that story.<br />
Cheers,<br />
Gifford Harrison.<br />
What, doubt an undoubted <strong>Edge</strong><br />
reading maths professor against<br />
that dimwit Lengthy Boy who<br />
supplied me with such ‘internet<br />
twaddle’ in the first place? Not<br />
likely, Gifford, you sex machine,<br />
you. E.E.<br />
Raleigh Choppers<br />
Oi, <strong>Edge</strong> bloke!<br />
Rayleigh is a town in Essex. <strong>The</strong>y<br />
do not make Choppers (July <strong>Edge</strong>)<br />
Raleigh do.<br />
Tut!<br />
Andy Ballentyne<br />
You disgusting pedant, sir. E.E.<br />
William & Harry<br />
Dear <strong>Edge</strong>,<br />
Here's something for you to get<br />
into. Those two Prince’s William<br />
and Harry are so different, I refuse<br />
to believe they are of the same<br />
father. William's nearly bald, like<br />
Charlie, while Harry h<strong>as</strong> a full head<br />
of red hair.<br />
Facial features don't match either.<br />
<strong>The</strong>ir mother w<strong>as</strong> known to ‘put it<br />
about a bit’ so I reckon Harry is the<br />
son of that butler, James<br />
something-or-other.<br />
Regards,<br />
E. Luc<strong>as</strong>.<br />
Blimey! Talk about an off-thewall<br />
email. To be fair, surely it’s<br />
crystal clear that the brothers<br />
are not of the same dad, and<br />
furthermore, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> thinks<br />
that you are somewhat confusing<br />
Messrs. Paul Burrell and the<br />
d<strong>as</strong>hing rogue that is James<br />
Hewitt, sir. E.E.<br />
Sudbury Curry House<br />
Dear <strong>Edge</strong>,<br />
Stumbled across your July issue<br />
whilst waiting for my take-away in a<br />
curry house in Sudbury, Suffolk.<br />
Best read in a long while.<br />
I would happily write to all your<br />
advertisers to tell them this, but I<br />
think that would make me <strong>as</strong> sad<br />
and <strong>as</strong> stupid an arse <strong>as</strong> Mark<br />
Kreamer (mistaken in Letters<br />
section), so I haven’t bothered.<br />
Regards,<br />
Gareth Evans.<br />
Wow! How did a copy of <strong>The</strong><br />
<strong>Edge</strong> work its way up to a curry<br />
house in Suffolk? Which one<br />
amongst you w<strong>as</strong> it, readers,<br />
eh? Come on, cough up? E.E.<br />
Damn Coward<br />
Dear <strong>Edge</strong>,<br />
Well, you've had a go at<br />
Christianity, so it's time to balance<br />
things up by having a go at Islam,<br />
Judaism, Buddhism, etc.<br />
I suggest you start with Islam, if<br />
you've any 'balls', and see what<br />
happens.<br />
Islam h<strong>as</strong> loads of peculiarities and<br />
you could have a field day going<br />
on about it <strong>as</strong> you've certainly the<br />
talent to do so.<br />
Go on! It's time to put the crap that<br />
is religion firmly in its place, especially<br />
<strong>as</strong> it's declared war on western<br />
culture.<br />
You say “all religion is crap”, so<br />
name ALL of them.<br />
You only pick on those that do not<br />
fight back, you damn coward!<br />
I bet you won't even publish this<br />
letter and I'm NOT even religious.<br />
Yours disgusted,<br />
E. Luc<strong>as</strong>.<br />
Nothing for 15 years and then<br />
two letters in the very same<br />
issue, eh? OK, look, it w<strong>as</strong> actually<br />
<strong>The</strong> Grumpy Goose that said<br />
“all religion is crap” and you can<br />
read all about what <strong>The</strong> Goose<br />
h<strong>as</strong> to say on page 23.<br />
Personally speaking, I’m not a<br />
fan of religion, but then this<br />
whole episode w<strong>as</strong> about something<br />
<strong>The</strong> Goose wrote to which<br />
‘somebody of a religious persu<strong>as</strong>ion’<br />
took umbrage to and it all<br />
spiralled from there. But <strong>as</strong> editor,<br />
I’ve never once thought, ‘I<br />
know. Let’s do an article about<br />
what a crock of shit religion is’,<br />
or have any desire to start writing<br />
about Islam, Judaism and<br />
Buddhism, <strong>as</strong> you’ve suggested<br />
the mag does, simply because I<br />
honestly feel (a) I couldn’t justify<br />
the sheer amount of space such<br />
a subject would require, and (b) I<br />
doubt the majority of <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s<br />
regular readers would be interested.<br />
Let’s face it, you’re never<br />
going to turn a non-believer into<br />
a believer, no matter how much<br />
they pedal it, and vice versa. So<br />
what’s the point in trying?<br />
Perhaps religion’s really no more<br />
than some people needing fags<br />
and others needing alcohol.<br />
It is an emotional crutch. E.E.<br />
Circle of Trust<br />
Hi Striker,<br />
I wanted to respond to your recent<br />
father-in-law article in l<strong>as</strong>t months<br />
<strong>Edge</strong> (July issues).<br />
Where <strong>as</strong> your father-in-law is<br />
similar to Harry Enfield’s ‘Only Me’<br />
character, mine’s slightly more<br />
‘Jack Burns’ of <strong>The</strong> Fockers fame.<br />
No, I'm not saying he’s ex-CIA or<br />
Mi5, even though that might<br />
explain the ‘listening device’ in his<br />
ear (he admits to being a bit mutton<br />
in the one lug-hole, but I've<br />
never been so sure).<br />
I'm also not even saying it's<br />
because he’s oh so often given me<br />
the "I'm watching you, Focker"<br />
treatment either (I'm sure he said<br />
focker???). No, it's the simple fact<br />
that, like Ben Stiller’s character in<br />
the Focker trilogy, I'm never going<br />
to be completely good enough for<br />
his ‘little girl’, or ever be included in<br />
his damned circle of trust.<br />
OK, OK, I accept it might have<br />
something to do with the fact that<br />
17 years ago, there w<strong>as</strong> an incident<br />
of him walking into his daughter’s<br />
bedroom, only to find a 5'10”<br />
skinny (yes, that's right, I did weigh<br />
less than 11 stone once, you know)<br />
only ever so slightly ginger haired<br />
lad attempting to do ‘rude things’<br />
with his angel.<br />
Or maybe it's the fact that I’ve<br />
already failed 10 times whilst trying<br />
to p<strong>as</strong>s my driving test (including<br />
once where I got into completely<br />
the wrong car) and his beloved<br />
daughter h<strong>as</strong> to drive us everywhere<br />
("I just don't get why that<br />
tosser can't p<strong>as</strong>s a simple thing like<br />
his driving test?")<br />
On the other hand, it could also be<br />
the fact that I'm totally crap at<br />
D.I.Y., where <strong>as</strong> the father-in-law is<br />
naturally a legend in all trades and<br />
h<strong>as</strong> to come round to ours and do<br />
absolutely everything (from laying<br />
the wooden floor to fixing the water<br />
tank in the loft....I hate heights),<br />
together with the fact that I don't<br />
have a ‘real man’s job’ <strong>as</strong> I work in<br />
f<strong>as</strong>hion, <strong>as</strong> opposed to doing some<br />
honest work, such <strong>as</strong> any form of<br />
labouring.<br />
Or maybe it’s simply confessing,<br />
when drunk (more than once), that<br />
the mother-in-law is definitely worth<br />
a shag!<br />
And you always know that you’re<br />
never going to be the complete<br />
apple of anyone's eye when, during<br />
dinner parties (or at your very own<br />
wedding reception), your father-inlaw<br />
says, “I always hoped and<br />
prayed that one day my girl would<br />
meet a man good enough for<br />
her...and to this day, I'm still hoping<br />
and praying." (I think he w<strong>as</strong> joking.<br />
I'm sure I saw him smile when<br />
he said it. <strong>The</strong>n again, it might<br />
have been a bit of windy pops from<br />
the volovants.)<br />
<strong>The</strong>re have also been far too many<br />
occ<strong>as</strong>ions to mention when I've<br />
been pushed <strong>as</strong>ide because he<br />
can ‘do it’ far better than ever I<br />
could, from cooking on the BBQ to<br />
simply changing a toilet roll.<br />
So will I ever be good enough for<br />
his little girl? Doubtful. Very doubtful<br />
indeed.<br />
All I know is that my own little<br />
angel is already 7 this year and I<br />
rub my hands with glee in anticipation<br />
of becoming a 'Jack Burns'<br />
type character one day myself and<br />
properly putting some unsuspecting<br />
tosser through the ringer, rather<br />
than writhing in the 'Gaylord<br />
Focker' position I currently occupy.<br />
And hey, that’s because I’ve learnt<br />
from the very best.<br />
Jan Attrell.<br />
Love it, Jan, just love it. E.E.<br />
P.S. Plus you’ve a girl’s name!<br />
Page 20 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256
LOOK<br />
HOW EXPERTLY<br />
YOUR EDITOR<br />
CUT OFF ‘THE<br />
LENGTH’<br />
THERE’S ONLY ONE<br />
MICKEY DUNBAR<br />
“One Mickey Dunbar.....there’s only one Mickey Dunbar.....one Mickey<br />
Dunnnnnbar.....there’s only one Mick-ey Dun-bar!”<br />
That’s what they used to sing whenever former inside-forward Mickey<br />
Dunbar used to pop one of his balls out.....eh? Sorry.....slipped a ball inside<br />
to his centre-forward is what <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> meant to say.<br />
Now some would say that Mickey used to be Mick Bolingbroke’s right hand<br />
man, where<strong>as</strong> these days he’s known <strong>as</strong> ‘the man behind the gl<strong>as</strong>ses’.<br />
“It’s true,” says Mick, who sounds like a cross between former Blackpool,<br />
Everton and Arsenal midfielder Alan Ball and a piece of sandpaper. “Even<br />
when I go into my local butchers for a string of sausages for my Sunday<br />
breakf<strong>as</strong>t, instead of just saying, ‘Hi Mick, how’re you doing?’, my butcher<br />
will say, ‘Backs to the wall ple<strong>as</strong>e, ladies and gentlemen, here comes the<br />
man behind the gl<strong>as</strong>ses.’ It really can be quite embarr<strong>as</strong>sing when there’s a<br />
shop full of people.”<br />
Meanwhile, Mrs Dunbar says, “He got them free....they came with the nose.”<br />
I’M NOT FOLLOWING YOU, MATE???<br />
Brilliant snapshot! <strong>The</strong>re’s always one that doesn’t get the joke, isn’t<br />
there?<br />
Whilst Kevin ‘beef jerky’ Swinney, ‘Dapper Rob’ Moules-Mariniere and<br />
Mod-Boy Yarnell all seemingly get the ‘egg joke’ that your editor’s just<br />
cracked, ‘Big Shaun’ is left pondering for a good few weeks until he<br />
eventually cracks on.<br />
I dunno tho’.....talk about being plucked from obscurity. But now look at<br />
’em, eh? That’s right, these ’ere Scooter Boys are now frickin’ famous.<br />
Take Swinney, for example. He’s only been approached to turn on<br />
Chelmsford Town Centre’s Christm<strong>as</strong> tree lights this year, h<strong>as</strong>n’t he?<br />
“H’hey, lovely job,” says Swinney. “Nice little speech, a few gl<strong>as</strong>ses of<br />
wine, perhaps a salmon and cucumber sandwich with the crust cut off and<br />
it’s all money in the bank, this ’ere celebrity lark, innit?”<br />
Yes, but Swinney, me old mate, what about <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s commission....<strong>as</strong><br />
you’re new found frickin’ agent???<br />
“Run that by me once more???” says ‘Big Shaun’.<br />
?<br />
? ?<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> Crew beat the crowds to vacate the 2011 Chelmsford Beer<br />
Festival. “We won’t get done for drink driving up here!” shouted <strong>The</strong><br />
Kingmeister, who cannot even drive, let alone inflate a hot air balloon<br />
(fully all liveried up design b<strong>as</strong>ed on Kingpin’s mum’s undercrackers).<br />
<strong>The</strong> Three<br />
Elms<br />
1st EVER<br />
Beer & Cider Festival<br />
Essex’s premier ‘cider provider’!<br />
19th-21st of August 2011<br />
Featuring ‘live band’ TRASHED<br />
on Saturday night<br />
Join us for<br />
REAL ALES,REAL CIDERS,<br />
FOOD & FUN!<br />
Chignal St. James, Chelmsford, CM1 4TZ.<br />
Tel: 01245 443151 www.the-three-elms.com<br />
www.theedgemag.co.uk Page 21
ONLY<br />
JOKING!<br />
Cameron: Take Note<br />
<strong>The</strong> Irish have solved their own financial problems.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y’ve imported 50 million tonnes of<br />
sand from the Arabs and are now going to start<br />
drilling for oil.<br />
Wind the Baby<br />
Went round to a friend’s house today. His wife<br />
w<strong>as</strong> sat there with their newborn baby. She<br />
<strong>as</strong>ked if I'd like to wind it. I thought that w<strong>as</strong> a<br />
bit harsh, so I gave it a dead leg instead.<br />
Paddy’s Goldfish<br />
Paddy goes to see the vet with his goldfish.<br />
"I think it's got epilepsy," he tells the vet.<br />
Vet takes a look and says, "It seems calm<br />
enough to me."<br />
Paddy says, "Wait ’til you see what it does when<br />
I take it out of the bowl."<br />
Not Happy<br />
Statistically speaking, 6 out of every 7 dwarfs<br />
are not happy.<br />
No Problem<br />
A mate of mine recently admitted to being<br />
addicted to brake fluid, but when I quizzed him<br />
about it, he reckoned it w<strong>as</strong>n’t a problem <strong>as</strong> he<br />
could stop at any time.<br />
Sad Tale<br />
Three Irishmen are sitting in the pub’s window<br />
seat, watching the front door of the brothel over<br />
the road.<br />
<strong>The</strong> local Methodist p<strong>as</strong>tor appears and quickly<br />
scurries inside.<br />
"Would you look at that!" says the first Irishman.<br />
"Didn't I always say what a bunch of hypocrites<br />
they were?"<br />
<strong>The</strong>y carry on drinking, only shortly afterwards,<br />
a Rabbi turns up, furtively knocks and is quickly<br />
ushered inside.<br />
"Another one!” cries the second Irishman.”Tut.<br />
Trying to fool us all with their pious preaching<br />
and stupid hats and wotnot."<br />
After a short while of continued drinking and<br />
angered condemnation of both the Vicar and the<br />
Rabbi, they suddenly see their own Catholic<br />
priest knocking on the door opposite the pub.<br />
“Ah, now dat's sad," says the third Irishman.<br />
"One of the girls clearly must have died."<br />
Balance<br />
I w<strong>as</strong> at a c<strong>as</strong>hpoint yesterday when a little<br />
short-sighted old lady <strong>as</strong>ked me if I could check<br />
her balance. Not being one to disappoint, I<br />
effortlessly pushed her over.<br />
Skint<br />
Bloke walks into a pub and <strong>as</strong>ks for a pint of<br />
anything except VB.<br />
Barman <strong>as</strong>ks, "What's wrong with VB?"<br />
Bloke says, "I had 12 pints of VB l<strong>as</strong>t night and<br />
when I came round, I w<strong>as</strong> fookin’ skint."<br />
Barman says, "Twelve pints of anything pretty<br />
much costs about the same these days."<br />
Bloke replies, "Skint's my dog."<br />
Racism<br />
Everyone seems to be in such a hurry to play<br />
the racism card these days.<br />
Take this particular instance. A customer <strong>as</strong>ks a<br />
store manager in what aisle could he find some<br />
Irish sausages?<br />
Retail chappy <strong>as</strong>ks him, “Are you Irish, sir?”<br />
Well, the fella, clearly offended, confirms that<br />
yes, he is Irish, but counters saying, “Supposing<br />
I’d <strong>as</strong>ked you for some Italian sausages. Would<br />
you have <strong>as</strong>ked me if I w<strong>as</strong> Italian?<br />
“Or if I had <strong>as</strong>ked you for German Bratwurst.<br />
Would you <strong>as</strong>ked me if I w<strong>as</strong> German?<br />
“Or if I‘d wanted some kosher hot dogs, would<br />
you have <strong>as</strong>sumed I w<strong>as</strong> Jewish?<br />
“Or perhaps Mexican, if I’d <strong>as</strong>ked you for some<br />
Taco’s?”<br />
Store manager scratches his head and replies,<br />
“To be truthful, sir, no, I probably wouldn't."<br />
Customer claps his hands together and says,<br />
“<strong>The</strong>re you are then. So why did you immediately<br />
presume me Irish, just because I happened to<br />
<strong>as</strong>k you for some Irish sausages?”<br />
Store manager says, "Because this is Halfords."<br />
Spider<br />
My son's been <strong>as</strong>king me for a pet spider for his<br />
birthday, so I went to the local pet shop and w<strong>as</strong><br />
shocked, saddened and dismayed to discover<br />
they were selling for £70.00 and upwards.<br />
‘Bollocks to that,’ I thought. ‘I’m bound to be<br />
able to get him one cheaper on the web.’<br />
Do Not Bend<br />
Paddy spies a letter lying on his doormat. It<br />
says on the envelope: ‘DO NOT BEND’.<br />
So Paddy spends the next two hours trying to<br />
figure out how to pick the damn thing up.<br />
Freshers<br />
Freshers at the Edinburgh Veterinary School<br />
were receiving their first anatomy cl<strong>as</strong>s with a<br />
dead cow.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y all gathered around the surgery table<br />
where the carc<strong>as</strong>s w<strong>as</strong> covered with a<br />
white sheet.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n the professor strode in and started the<br />
cl<strong>as</strong>s by telling them, “In Veterinary Medicine, it<br />
is necessary to possess two important qualities<br />
<strong>as</strong> a Doctor. <strong>The</strong> first is that you need not be<br />
disgusted by anything involving the animal body.<br />
As an example....” he said, before pulling back<br />
the sheet, sticking a finger up the dead cow's<br />
arse and then sucking it.<br />
Well, his students were shocked at that.<br />
“Go ahead, try it for yourselves,” the Professor<br />
instructed them.<br />
After freaking out for a bit, the students eventually<br />
took it in turns to stick their fingers up the<br />
dead cow’s arse before sucking them.<br />
When everyone had finished, the Professor<br />
looked at them and said, “And the second most<br />
important quality is observation. I don’t know<br />
whether you noticed, but I stuck my middle finger<br />
up that cow’s backside, yet sucked on my<br />
index finger. Learn to pay attention.”<br />
New Job<br />
Life's tough, and it's even tougher if you're<br />
stupid. I start a new job in Seoul next week.<br />
I figured it would be a good Korea move.<br />
Pregnant<br />
Paddy shouts frantically down the ’phone, "My<br />
wife’s pregnant and her contractions are only<br />
two minutes apart."<br />
<strong>The</strong> nurse replies, "Is this her first child?"<br />
Paddy hollers, "No. This is her husband!"<br />
2012 Olympics<br />
It's 2012 and it's the Olympics in London.<br />
A Scotsman, an Englishman and an Irishman<br />
want to get in, but haven't got any tickets.<br />
So the Scotsman picks up a manhole cover,<br />
tucks it under his arm, and walks up to the gate.<br />
"McTavish, Scotland, discus." he announces,<br />
and walks straight in.<br />
So the Englishman, impressed at the<br />
Scotsman’s ingenuity, picks up a length of<br />
scaffold, slings it over his shoulder, walks up to<br />
the gate and announces, “Waddington-Smythe,<br />
England, pole-vault," and in he walks.<br />
Well, the Irishman is majorly impressed and not<br />
to be outdone looks around and picks up a roll<br />
of barbed wire and tucks it under his arm.<br />
"O'Malley, Ireland....." he proudly announces at<br />
the gate. "Fencing."<br />
Drunk <strong>as</strong> a Skunk<br />
Paddy is driving home, drunk <strong>as</strong> a skunk.<br />
Suddenly, he h<strong>as</strong> to swerve to avoid a tree.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n another. And then another.<br />
Cop car eventually pulls him over <strong>as</strong> he’s<br />
veering about all over the road.<br />
Paddy tells the cop about all the trees in the<br />
road.<br />
Cop says, "For God’s sake, Paddy, that's your<br />
air freshener swingin' about."<br />
New Aftershave<br />
I tried some new aftershave that smells like<br />
breadcrumbs. <strong>The</strong> birds absolutely love it.<br />
Sex<br />
Wife says to her husband, "You only ever want<br />
sex when you're drunk.”<br />
Husband replies, "Hey, that's not fair and that’s<br />
not true. (Thinks for a moment.) Sometimes I<br />
want a kebab."<br />
Memory Stick<br />
Bought the wife a Memory Stick.<br />
It's great. She h<strong>as</strong>n't forgotten my beer, dinner<br />
or sex once since the first beating.<br />
Q&A<br />
Q. What's the difference between a boy and a<br />
girl in Liverpool?<br />
A. Girls have a higher sperm count.<br />
All jokes published are supplied by <strong>Edge</strong> readers. Ple<strong>as</strong>e send your ‘egg yokes’ to shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
<strong>The</strong> Grumpy Goose!<br />
<strong>The</strong> Catholic Church<br />
<strong>The</strong>re h<strong>as</strong> been speculation that, <strong>as</strong> a<br />
result of my article about the men in<br />
white dressing gowns, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong><br />
Editor had suspended me, or I had<br />
chosen to ‘lay low’. Nonsense. I'm still<br />
here, and, to prove it, I'm writing this<br />
column.<br />
In reply to a letter from clearly a small<br />
boy (see Letters Page): In my original<br />
article entitled ‘Ridiculous’ (May<br />
<strong>Edge</strong>), I used the phr<strong>as</strong>e “all religions<br />
are equally bogus”; note the word ‘all’<br />
- it means inclusive, not exclusive.<br />
Let me make it plain: THERE IS NO<br />
GOD. Whichever religion you choose,<br />
you are deluding yourselves. It’s just<br />
us. We are responsible for all of the<br />
good and all of the evil in the world.<br />
I have no problem with people who<br />
believe in a god; go ahead, delude<br />
yourselves, deceive your children.<br />
However, I do have a problem with<br />
the Catholic Church.<br />
Why, I hear you <strong>as</strong>k? (But only the<br />
Catholics are <strong>as</strong>king - everyone else<br />
knows.)<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> Editor is a<br />
regular visitor to Blissful Soul in order<br />
to unwind from the stresses and strains<br />
of his complicated life in their Floatation Tank<br />
Definitely not <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong><br />
Editor’s feet, readers....but I<br />
w<strong>as</strong> brave enough (just) to have<br />
my toes nibbled and it genuinely<br />
is a feeling like no other<br />
<strong>The</strong> Catholic Church is the main religion<br />
in Europe and affects our daily<br />
lives. It preaches to Catholics and non<br />
Catholics alike. Catholics are entitled<br />
to their beliefs, <strong>as</strong> are Muslims.<br />
However, Islam does not affect our<br />
daily lives. Muslims do not abuse<br />
children in care homes, their leaders<br />
do not live in a golden palace full of<br />
tre<strong>as</strong>ure, they are not hypocrites. In<br />
fact, I'm not sure any other religion is<br />
<strong>as</strong> hypocritical <strong>as</strong> the Catholic<br />
Church.<br />
As I write this, I'm watching the BBC<br />
news at 6; yet another incident of<br />
abuse and cover-up by the Catholic<br />
Church. Father John McGee, an<br />
adviser to the pope, h<strong>as</strong> been found<br />
to have covered up incidents of child<br />
abuse by Catholic priests; after the<br />
pope promised it would not happen<br />
again. BUT STILL IT GOES ON.<br />
As Catholics, you know all these news<br />
reports are true. ‘Something is rotten<br />
in the state of Denmark’ if I may quote<br />
Shakespeare.<br />
Aren't you <strong>as</strong>hamed of your church?<br />
You should be. <strong>The</strong> Catholic Church is<br />
truly morally bankrupt, but you'll<br />
defend it, won't you, because you are<br />
morally bankrupt <strong>as</strong> well. So for once,<br />
do the right thing and condemn the<br />
systematic abuse perpetrated within<br />
your religion.<br />
But wait, I think I have a solution to<br />
the problem.<br />
I propose you live your lives by a different<br />
book. You've used the bible for<br />
2000 years; it’s time for a change. I<br />
suggest you use a book(s) that is<br />
more widely read than the bible;<br />
something more relevant - Harry<br />
Potter. It’s got a man with long hair<br />
and a beard, there are spirits and<br />
demons and spells and magic (miracles<br />
even).<br />
Lord Hanningfield<br />
He’s an un<strong>as</strong>hamed arrogant common<br />
thief; it’s official.<br />
He stole from the hard working and<br />
over burdened tax payers of Chelmsford.<br />
His supporters claim that his imprisonment<br />
is a travesty; he did a great deal<br />
for the county, he spoke very highly of<br />
it. Is that it? He spoke? What else did<br />
he do for the county? Did he collect<br />
refuse? Did he drive a bus? Did he<br />
work in a hospital?<br />
No, but he stole from the tax payers<br />
who did.<br />
<strong>The</strong> people who defend him are<br />
equally corrupt and morally bankrupt.<br />
At le<strong>as</strong>t his incarceration is not all bad<br />
news for him; I believe his ‘preference’<br />
is quite prevalent in prison.<br />
Debenhams<br />
I walked through Debenhams the<br />
other day. As I p<strong>as</strong>sed the cosmetics<br />
counters, I wondered how the female<br />
staff managed to get their skin to look<br />
so orange and waxy?<br />
Race for Life<br />
A (female) friend entered Race for<br />
Life; her boyfriend wanted to participate<br />
too.<br />
However, he w<strong>as</strong> rejected, on the<br />
grounds that he is not female.<br />
What an idiot. Doesn't he know only<br />
women get cancer?<br />
Men don't get it, do they? <strong>The</strong>y can't<br />
do, or Race for Life would include<br />
men. <strong>The</strong> women who organise this<br />
event aren't stupid, or selfish, are<br />
they? So it’s time us men admitted<br />
Fishy Goings On<br />
that we only get ‘man cancer’; you<br />
know, a bit like ‘man flu’, not real.<br />
Only women get real flu and real cancer.<br />
So come on, all you men, get out<br />
of that hospice bed, there’s nothing<br />
wrong with you; stop malingering.<br />
Those beds are needed for women.<br />
Government Advice<br />
Employ British workers over foreigners;<br />
it’s the only way to ensure full<br />
employment. ‘<strong>The</strong>y come over here<br />
(even though they are entitled to do<br />
so) and take our jobs.’ We British<br />
want our traditional jobs back: cleaning<br />
cars and picking fruit & veg etc.<br />
Even I, <strong>The</strong> Grumpy Goose, have<br />
first-hand experience of this thorny<br />
employment issue.<br />
On three occ<strong>as</strong>ions l<strong>as</strong>t year, <strong>as</strong> part<br />
of my ‘real job’, I had to interview job<br />
applicants. I advertised the vacancies<br />
through Chelmsford Job Centre.<br />
On all three occ<strong>as</strong>ions, out of approximately<br />
30 applicants, only 7 arrived.<br />
Of those 7, four were more than 30<br />
minutes late. I w<strong>as</strong> greeted with the<br />
likes of: “Alright, mate. I'm ’ere about<br />
the job,” by people in track suits and<br />
hoodies; one applicant even kept his<br />
earphones in and listened to his i-Pod<br />
for the duration of the interview (true).<br />
Contr<strong>as</strong>t this with a man from the<br />
Czech Republic, wearing black shoes,<br />
black trousers, a white shirt and a tie;<br />
he greeted me with, “Good morning,<br />
sir. I'm here about the job interview.”<br />
Sadly, most (not all) of the British<br />
apes that frequent the Job Centre<br />
couldn't get a job picking up dog shit.<br />
Ahem, readers. <strong>The</strong>se are the<br />
exclusive views of the GG and not<br />
necessarily blah, blah, blah...<br />
Blissful Soul, run by Tony and Danielle Smith in Moulsham Street, h<strong>as</strong><br />
proved so successful in such a short space of time that they are about to<br />
open two further fishy outlets in Maldon and Harlow.<br />
“We combine 8 individual fish pedicure sp<strong>as</strong> with m<strong>as</strong>sage and floatation<br />
therapy,” says Danni, “so we’re more than just a one stop shop.<br />
“Our fish are called Garra Rufa, originally from Turkey,” chips in Tony, “and<br />
to be honest, we haven’t seen any <strong>as</strong> big anywhere else. It’s an incredible<br />
feeling having them nibble away at the dead skin cells on your feet, but<br />
they’re hardly piranh<strong>as</strong>, so there’s really no need to worry!”<br />
<strong>The</strong> price is just £10 for 15 minutes (£5 for children) followed by a moisturising<br />
foot rub. Or alternatively £20 if you wish to follow up your treatment<br />
with nail filing, cuticle work and a toenail polish.<br />
Meanwhile, floatation therapy is perhaps the most unusual way to destress<br />
and allows you to float your cares away in an i-sopod tank in water that<br />
includes 800lb of Epsom Salts.<br />
Prices start at just £20 for 40 minutes, or £25 for 1 hour.<br />
� Gift vouchers available<br />
� 20% discount for students and OAP’s (proof required)<br />
� Private parties catered for - prices upon application<br />
� Check website for all package prices<br />
177 Moulsham Street, Chelmsford.<br />
Telephone 01245 690167.<br />
2 people for the price of 1<br />
@ Blissful Soul!<br />
Simply bring this EDGE voucher along and TWO people can<br />
experience a FISH PEDICURE or float in our FLOATATION<br />
TANK (seperately or together) for the price of ONE*<br />
at Blissful Soul on any day excluding Saturdays<br />
(might be a good idea to book in advance)!<br />
*Terms and conditions apply<br />
177 Moulsham Street, Chelmsford. Telephone 01245 690167<br />
www.theedgemag.co.uk Page 23
Jo Williams - Partner<br />
<strong>The</strong> Estate Agent<br />
that works for<br />
YOU!<br />
I think this house is in Ilfracombe,<br />
North Devon....although I’m not<br />
completely certain <strong>as</strong> it’s a while<br />
since I took the shot.....but it’s<br />
definitely a marmite house,<br />
wouldn’t you say?<br />
Personally speaking, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong><br />
loves it <strong>as</strong> it’s got character coming<br />
out of its, er, funnel (oh yeah, and it<br />
overlooks the sea too, for good<br />
me<strong>as</strong>ure), but I can well imagine<br />
some of you going, “Ooh noooo.”<br />
I reckon it’d probably look a little<br />
out of place in Chelmsford, where<br />
<strong>as</strong> in Maldon it’d go down a treat.<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> h<strong>as</strong> recently been glued<br />
to its TV set for that Restoration<br />
Home series, although it’s none too<br />
Landlords are incre<strong>as</strong>ingly optimistic about<br />
the prospects for the buy-to-let market.<br />
According to a recent survey by LSL, the<br />
UK’s second largest estate agency group,<br />
some 49% of landlords think that now is the<br />
right time to invest in more property (only<br />
To quote the world’s greatest investor,<br />
Warren Buffet (worth £25 billion), “Always<br />
buy at the point of greatest pessimism.”<br />
Well, it seems that we have already p<strong>as</strong>sed<br />
that point.<br />
In the p<strong>as</strong>t year, some 185,600 fewer firsttime<br />
buyers than usual entered the sales<br />
market, prompting an incre<strong>as</strong>e in rental<br />
demand. Indeed, over half the landlords<br />
polled have seen a rise in tenant demand in<br />
the l<strong>as</strong>t three months alone.<br />
David Newnes, Divisional MD for LSL said:<br />
“Optimism among landlords is not only<br />
buoyant, but incre<strong>as</strong>ing. Soaring rents and<br />
climbing demand from frustrated first-time<br />
buyers are not only making buy-to-let an<br />
attractive proposition for new property<br />
investors, but are encouraging existing<br />
landlords to grow their holdings before<br />
property prices incre<strong>as</strong>e once more.”<br />
Rents now equal their all-time high of £692<br />
Dream Homes<br />
keen on its choice of presenter and<br />
also thinks it spends more time<br />
than necessary on the history of<br />
the projects rather than the actual<br />
restoration work itself that the programme’s<br />
title would seem to suggest<br />
it should. Thing is, why I even<br />
bother to put myself through it each<br />
week I’ll never know, because I<br />
always end up sick with envy.<br />
Kevin McCloud and Grand Designs<br />
is still by far <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s favourite<br />
and the sooner that reappears onto<br />
our screens, the better.<br />
Change of subject: those six new<br />
semi-detached houses by Moody<br />
Homes on Victoria Road in Writtle.<br />
Are they overpriced, or what???<br />
BUY-TO-LET BACK ON TRACK<br />
per month.<br />
However, one of the frustrations is that<br />
despite 68% of landlords expecting rental<br />
demand to grow during the next 12 months,<br />
54% are finding mortgage finance harder to<br />
source than a year ago.<br />
Interestingly, of those landlords who have<br />
bought in the p<strong>as</strong>t year, 48% were c<strong>as</strong>h<br />
purch<strong>as</strong>ers.<br />
Landlords with mortgage finance typically<br />
have an average rental ‘profit’ of £3,288 per<br />
year after mortgage repayments - more<br />
than enough to absorb even the most<br />
bullish forec<strong>as</strong>t for interest rates. Many<br />
landlords are now investing this surplus into<br />
extending their portfolios.<br />
So with the Bank B<strong>as</strong>e Rate once again<br />
remaining at it’s all time low of 0.5% (and<br />
forec<strong>as</strong>t to remaining low for the foreseeable<br />
future), landlords can expect to see<br />
rents rise without a corresponding incre<strong>as</strong>e<br />
in mortgage payments.<br />
So, what would Warren do?<br />
Can’t you guess!<br />
For further advice or information on buy to<br />
let mortgages, ple<strong>as</strong>e contact me, Jo<br />
Williams, on the number below.<br />
www.thehomepartnership.co.uk<br />
11 Duke Street, Chelmsford CM1 1HL<br />
Telephone: 01245 250222<br />
Page 24 <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 01245 348256
‘GOLD! Always believe in your soul, you’ve got<br />
the power to know, you’re indestructible....’<br />
And this month, readers, it’s the turn of the Rough<br />
Guide series of holiday programmes on C5 hosted<br />
by Julia Bradbury and Toby Amies that is practically<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>’s favourite spot of TV of all time.<br />
Why?<br />
Because <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> loves its holidays and the<br />
Rough Guide gets to the meat and two veg of the<br />
destinations it covers with no mucking about. It<br />
w<strong>as</strong> always like ‘BAM! This is what you want to be<br />
doing/seeing...’<br />
<strong>The</strong>y never used to beat about the bush and if a<br />
certain holiday/destination didn’t come up to<br />
scratch, they’d say so. Which is great. That’s what<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> is after. No point shilly-shallying around,<br />
is there?<br />
What’s more, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> loved it’s presenters, Julia<br />
Bradbury (particularly Julia Bradbury and her quite<br />
frankly totally amazing bod) and ‘the other bloke’?<br />
TV GOLD - THE ROUGH TEST GUIDE<br />
CARD<br />
Ah yes, Toby Amies (only joking, Toby, lad).<br />
Brummy boy Amies w<strong>as</strong> just <strong>as</strong> important <strong>as</strong> Ernie<br />
Wise to Bradbury’s Eric Morcombe and<br />
w<strong>as</strong> very much his own man (this mag<br />
h<strong>as</strong> particular fond memories of him in<br />
raptures over Cuba, somewhere <strong>The</strong><br />
<strong>Edge</strong> h<strong>as</strong> never been). I also used to<br />
love seeing him belting about the back<br />
streets of some far off foreign climes on<br />
a scooter and think, ‘What a bloody<br />
amazing job to have, the lucky b<strong>as</strong>tard’.<br />
Meanwhile, Bradbury w<strong>as</strong> forever getting<br />
her kit off and <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> really can’t<br />
fault her for that, the sex kitten.<br />
But what this mag truly cannot understand<br />
is why Rough Guide is no longer<br />
on our screens, particularly <strong>as</strong> the<br />
shows proved to be so very successful?<br />
OK, so Bradbury’s currently up the duff,<br />
which hurt when I found out, I can tell<br />
you. Through a glossy magazine rather than a<br />
’phone call too, I might add, which is never nice.<br />
I’ve even emailed Julia’s PA, Gina Fox, so we’ll<br />
see whether any information transpires about a<br />
new series. So watch this space...<br />
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shaun@theedgemag.co.uk Page 25
From Russia with Love<br />
I’ve always had a soft spot for mother<br />
Russia. Throughout the ages the Russian<br />
people have been put through some of the<br />
most horrifying forms of hardship imaginable,<br />
but like an AK-47 toting energy bunny<br />
fuelled by vodka and sheer bloody mindedness,<br />
they just keep on going.<br />
History for the Russians w<strong>as</strong> b<strong>as</strong>ically like<br />
a millennia long episode of ‘Endurance’,<br />
with history metaphorically burning their<br />
nipples with a magnifying gl<strong>as</strong>s and randomly<br />
kicking them in the bollocks.<br />
“Thanks a bunch, history!”<br />
One thing this proves is that you just don’t<br />
mess with the Russians, and if you don’t<br />
believe me, go and <strong>as</strong>k Napoleon and<br />
Hitler about their ‘Russian Front’ ide<strong>as</strong>, or<br />
the Russian guy that cut his own head off<br />
with a chainsaw during a drinking game to<br />
prove that he w<strong>as</strong> the hardest bloke there.<br />
Granted, he w<strong>as</strong>n’t around to celebrate his<br />
victory, but you can’t deny he definitely put<br />
that particular argument to bed.<br />
It’s not even just the people in Russia that<br />
aren’t to be screwed with. Russian dogs<br />
are also in the top 10 of ‘E<strong>as</strong>tern Bloc<br />
things the Kingpin doesn’t want to mess<br />
with’ (just behind female shot putters at<br />
number 7). Moscow h<strong>as</strong> a big problem with<br />
large packs of stray dogs and statistically<br />
you’re actually more likely to get attacked<br />
by a dog than mugged over there.<br />
<strong>The</strong>se canine gangsters mainly live in the<br />
subway systems and have learned how to<br />
navigate through the city using the trains. I<br />
know people that still can’t figure out what<br />
train they have to take to get from<br />
Liverpool Street to Kings Cross, yet these<br />
are stray dogs we’re talking about here!<br />
Apparently, it’s not that uncommon for<br />
someone to be late and running for the<br />
train when they’re set upon by an entire<br />
pack of hounds, which is at the same time<br />
both horrifying and completely awesome.<br />
Being the pragmatists that the Russians<br />
are, they’ve adapted to this four-legged<br />
threat by carrying sausages with them to<br />
distract the dogs if they’re attacked. No,<br />
I’m not joking either.<br />
“Hand over the pork and apple<br />
and nobody gets hurt.”<br />
ME & MY adamantium<br />
skeleton<br />
Taking stuff like this into account, it’s not<br />
surprising that it w<strong>as</strong> the Russians who<br />
came up with what is possibly the best<br />
idea for a game show known to human<br />
kind. <strong>The</strong> 90’s saw the dissolution of the<br />
once v<strong>as</strong>t Russian empire and a whole<br />
host of woes came with this transition, from<br />
the meltdown of the economy to the meteoric<br />
rise of organised crime. As well <strong>as</strong> yet<br />
another shit and broken gl<strong>as</strong>s sandwich for<br />
the beleaguered Russian populace to chew<br />
on, the 90’s also gave them ‘<strong>The</strong> Intercept’.<br />
Like all certifiable works of genius, ‘<strong>The</strong><br />
Intercept’ w<strong>as</strong> b<strong>as</strong>ed on a simple enough<br />
premise. A man would be approached in<br />
the street by the film crew and offered a<br />
brand new car. All he had to do w<strong>as</strong> drive it<br />
away and keep hold of it for the next 35<br />
minutes. E<strong>as</strong>y, right?<br />
What they didn’t mention w<strong>as</strong> that the car<br />
had been fitted with transmitters to enable<br />
it to be e<strong>as</strong>ily tracked and that they’d just<br />
reported the car <strong>as</strong> stolen, so the contestant<br />
would in fact be spending the next 35<br />
minutes in a high speed ch<strong>as</strong>e with the<br />
police through the streets of Moscow.<br />
Oh, and when the police caught them<br />
(which they almost invariably did), they<br />
could, and would, drag the contestant out<br />
of the car and give them a richly deserved<br />
roadside beating. Like I said: genius.<br />
Not surprisingly, ‘<strong>The</strong> Intercept’ w<strong>as</strong> hugely<br />
popular and it’s not hard to see why. Who<br />
wouldn’t want to watch it every week?<br />
N.B. If you’re a bloke and you answered<br />
“no” to that question, I would suggest<br />
removing your testicles from your girlfriend’s<br />
purse and trying them on for size<br />
again.<br />
What’s also not surprising is that it’s only<br />
the Russians who had the br<strong>as</strong>s balls to<br />
come up with a show. such <strong>as</strong> this. Not<br />
even Japan, the land of school girls<br />
panties in vending machines and signs on<br />
the train reminding men that it’s not actually<br />
OK to grope women on their daily commute,<br />
would come up with something like<br />
‘<strong>The</strong> Intercept’.<br />
In another stroke of genius, it seems the<br />
brains behind this game show were the<br />
Russian police themselves, probably thinking<br />
it a good bit of propaganda <strong>as</strong> well <strong>as</strong> a<br />
much needed image boost.<br />
Just think about that for a second and<br />
imagine the uproar if the Met came up with<br />
that idea, tearing through the crowded<br />
<strong>The</strong> Kingmeister reports<br />
“What’s wrong with our image<br />
comrade?”<br />
streets of London for a game show and<br />
then giving the ‘lucky’ contestant a jolly<br />
good hiding for the camer<strong>as</strong>. <strong>The</strong>n again,<br />
with all the budget cuts to public services,<br />
perhaps it’s time we all started thinking<br />
outside the box to generate extra revenue?<br />
Transplant patients could go on a ‘Deal or<br />
No Deal’ type show to see if they can pick<br />
the correct box with a kidney in it. Or perhaps<br />
one day, if we’re very, very lucky,<br />
we’ll actually get a proper ‘Running Man’<br />
game show.<br />
Monkey Magic<br />
By now, I think most of you know that I<br />
have an ongoing love affair with our simian<br />
cousins, so I’m always keeping an eye on<br />
what my favourite species are getting up to.<br />
And now that we’re getting no more<br />
‘Monkey News’ from Karl Pilkington, I figure<br />
someone h<strong>as</strong> to pick up the slack.<br />
It’s a sad state of affairs, but instances of<br />
human beings coming into conflict with the<br />
animal kingdom are lamentably common.<br />
Name a species that you couldn’t possibly<br />
believe we’d find fault with and I can find<br />
you at le<strong>as</strong>t one instance where that animal<br />
had the verb ‘menace’ attached to it.<br />
Monkeys are old hands at this now and, to<br />
be honest, probably sound better with ‘menace’<br />
after their names anyway.<br />
We like to think of them <strong>as</strong> little fell<strong>as</strong> in<br />
funny clothes, perhaps dressed in brown<br />
overalls pushing a piano upstairs before<br />
having a well earned cuppa, or maybe<br />
doing that adorable thing where they tear<br />
your wing mirrors off and shit on your windscreen<br />
in a safari park. In Delhi and Kenya<br />
however, they’re definitely not so cute.<br />
Delhi is prey to gangs of monkeys that act<br />
much like our own native grown Chavs by<br />
regularly breaking into people’s houses or<br />
just loitering on street corners having a<br />
quick wank, although if reports are to be<br />
believed, the monkey gangs of Delhi have<br />
better t<strong>as</strong>te in music and you can hold a<br />
decent conversation with them. In fact, the<br />
once deputy mayor of Delhi actually died<br />
from a monkey attack, falling off his balcony<br />
while trying to fight off a shrieking horde of<br />
the things.<br />
And then they sang protest<br />
songs against ‘<strong>The</strong> Man’.<br />
Exacerbating the problem is the fact that<br />
monkeys are revered creatures in large<br />
parts of India, so officials in Delhi can’t<br />
solve their monkey crisis by the simple<br />
expedient of just shooting them, so in a<br />
move of stunning brilliance (and stupidity)<br />
they have decided to fight fire with fire.<br />
Enter the Langur, a small ape that’s bigger<br />
than the troublesome monkeys and is being<br />
introduced to guard buildings and frighten<br />
the little buggers away. Now there is a<br />
clearly appreciable logic to this, but it’s<br />
sadly lacking in common sense. Monkey<br />
experts agree that the most likely outcome<br />
is of the apes and monkeys finding a way to<br />
live in harmony with each other, while the<br />
likelihood of homo sapiens living in<br />
harmony with pretty much anything is like<br />
placing a bet on a 3-legged donkey to win<br />
the Grand National.<br />
Personally speaking, I’m hoping that they<br />
don’t realise this when Plan-A fails and they<br />
just keep trying it with bigger and bigger<br />
apes until the problem is resolved. I’ll put<br />
my money on that being when the apes<br />
actually outnumber the humans and just<br />
start running the place.<br />
Meanwhile, in Kenya, our monkey brethren<br />
are making a nuisance of themselves in the<br />
village of Nachu by regularly stealing crops.<br />
This in itself isn’t that uncommon, but this<br />
particular tribe of monkeys are now in the<br />
crosshairs for sexually har<strong>as</strong>sing the village<br />
women. <strong>The</strong> monkeys have learned that the<br />
men of the tribe are much more likely to<br />
attack them, and so they avoid the farms<br />
when the men are around.<br />
Not only do they have no fear of the women<br />
though, but they openly mock their attempts<br />
to stop their vegetable b<strong>as</strong>ed larceny and<br />
they’ve also developed a tendency to mock<br />
the women by gesturing at their little monkey<br />
cocks before running off with the yams.<br />
<strong>The</strong> intrepid women of Nachu tried to combat<br />
this by going to the fields dressed <strong>as</strong><br />
men, only to find that the monkeys weren’t<br />
fooled and simply pointed at their bre<strong>as</strong>ts<br />
before getting back to thieving.<br />
“Are those things real?!”<br />
At the time of writing, I can’t seem to find if<br />
the villagers of Nachu have come up with a<br />
solution to their randy monkey woes, but<br />
hopefully they’re sending someone to Delhi<br />
for some tips.<br />
Page 26 www.theedgemag.co.uk
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FIFTY...NOT OUT<br />
by Steve Ward<br />
Wimblebury<br />
As this edition of the <strong>Edge</strong> hits the<br />
newstands it will be early August<br />
and the damp and cold days that<br />
constituted June this year will be a<br />
far distant memory. Yeah, but. Two<br />
things happen every year in June,<br />
and although it w<strong>as</strong> a couple of<br />
months ago, the chronology doesn’t<br />
really matter to the point to be<br />
made here.<br />
Mid-June sees the annual Festival<br />
of Middle England. No, not the<br />
church fete, or the family fun day<br />
(an oxymoron if there ever w<strong>as</strong><br />
one) but that gathering of the white<br />
and genteel cl<strong>as</strong>s that descends on<br />
London SW19 every year. Or, if<br />
they can’t get there in person, they<br />
at le<strong>as</strong>t attend in spirit via the wonders<br />
of modern technology. Or in<br />
this c<strong>as</strong>e, the BBC, which isn’t necessarily<br />
the same thing. Yes, we’re<br />
talking about Wimbledon.<br />
This year, and with a level of wit<br />
that w<strong>as</strong> <strong>as</strong> exceptional <strong>as</strong> it w<strong>as</strong><br />
unexpected, certain members of<br />
the crowd started shouting “C’mon<br />
Tim” at Andy Murray. What these<br />
people were doing, and you have<br />
to <strong>as</strong>sume it’s unknowingly, is<br />
backing the argument made above<br />
that Wimblebore is a completely<br />
English middle cl<strong>as</strong>ses thing.<br />
Murray is Scottish, and worse, a bit<br />
of a raggamuffin. He likes to win<br />
things and is prepared to be n<strong>as</strong>ty<br />
to do it, if that’s what it takes. Sadly<br />
for him, he plays in an era where<br />
there are not one or two, but three<br />
exceptional players that make it<br />
very difficult for him to excel. But<br />
that’s not the point here. No, the<br />
point is that the crowd don’t want to<br />
have to cheer for a hairy rough<br />
boy; they want a nice, clean cut,<br />
mild mannered Tim Nice But Dim<br />
that represents them and all they<br />
<strong>as</strong>pire to. <strong>The</strong> sort of man they<br />
would want their daughters to<br />
marry.<br />
<strong>The</strong> annual Lawn Tennis<br />
Championships is one of the so<br />
called crown jewels of televised<br />
sport that, by law, Rupert Murdoch<br />
can’t buy up. Which is a huge<br />
shame, because the cosy<br />
BBC/Wimbledon relationship needs<br />
a damn good shake up. Years ago,<br />
the BBC w<strong>as</strong> arrogant enough to<br />
<strong>as</strong>sume it w<strong>as</strong> the natural home for<br />
televised test cricket - until all of a<br />
sudden it lost the rights. <strong>The</strong>n Sky -<br />
big bad Sky - took over and all of a<br />
steveward2000@hotmail.com<br />
sudden we’re watching a totally<br />
different game. Hawkeye, hotspot,<br />
dozens of camer<strong>as</strong>, HD, super slomo.<br />
Do you really think we’d have<br />
all those innovations if it were left<br />
to the BBC? Of course not. We’d<br />
have old buffers in blazers. Or<br />
maybe, in what they mistakenly<br />
thought would be a modernising<br />
drive, old buffers in jumpers and<br />
slacks.<br />
<strong>The</strong> BBC’s coverage of the tennis<br />
is fronted by Sue Barker. Sue<br />
Barker, for chrissake. <strong>The</strong> most<br />
annoying public school jolly hockey-sticks<br />
head girl on the planet. It<br />
says it all about the BBC’s image of<br />
itself that it would allow such a total<br />
ninny anywhere near a camera.<br />
However, at exactly the same time,<br />
the complete antidote to<br />
Wimbledon also happens to be taking<br />
place. In fact, antidote is what it<br />
should be, but it too h<strong>as</strong> succumbed<br />
to the white middle cl<strong>as</strong>ses<br />
and is now exclusively their preserve.<br />
This time we’re talking about<br />
what the Daily M<strong>as</strong>h brilliantly<br />
described <strong>as</strong> “a muddy hellpit filled<br />
with twats”. Yup, Gl<strong>as</strong>tonbury. Or,<br />
<strong>as</strong> you’re supposed to call it to<br />
show how hip and on the ball you<br />
are, Gl<strong>as</strong>to.<br />
So how can all that mud and<br />
squalor really be the same <strong>as</strong><br />
those nice people in nice clothes at<br />
nice old Wimblebore? Well, for a<br />
start, it h<strong>as</strong> its own rituals and air of<br />
good humoured camaraderie which<br />
are just <strong>as</strong> likely to result in the call<br />
for a sick bag <strong>as</strong> the tennis people’s<br />
behaviour is. <strong>The</strong>n there’s the<br />
fact that the audience is exclusively<br />
white. And, just like its SW London<br />
counterpart, Gl<strong>as</strong>to will not be playing<br />
host to the inhabitants of sink<br />
estates. Food and drink at both<br />
venues is ridiculously overpriced -<br />
another means of keeping the oiks<br />
at bay.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re’s one more similarity. <strong>The</strong><br />
BBC. Yes, Gl<strong>as</strong>to is now another of<br />
the BBC’s staples and one it plugs<br />
relentlessly. To be fair, the coverage<br />
is not <strong>as</strong> anodyne <strong>as</strong> that of<br />
the tennis, but it is very careful not<br />
to frighten the horses. Nobody<br />
sticks a camera in a tent to see<br />
what’s going on, because they may<br />
well get a n<strong>as</strong>ty shock. <strong>The</strong> phr<strong>as</strong>e<br />
‘sex and drugs and rock and roll’ is<br />
not a lie, but the BBC pretends it is.<br />
Having berated the two events for<br />
being a bit too middle cl<strong>as</strong>s, we<br />
should balance things up a bit by<br />
stating that nobody begrudges people<br />
sticking together with others of<br />
their ilk if that’s what turns them on.<br />
Neither should it be anyone else’s<br />
business if being ever so slightly<br />
naff isn’t a matter of concern to the<br />
individual concerned.<br />
But you can’t help but wonder if the<br />
BBC couldn’t be a bit more adventurous<br />
in its coverage of major<br />
events. It seems stuck with a mindset<br />
that thinks that just because<br />
something’s been done a certain<br />
way for the l<strong>as</strong>t 30 years, then it’s<br />
the only way to do it.<br />
Which is why Mark Lawrenson still<br />
h<strong>as</strong> a job.<br />
Sadly.
WRITTLE INTERNATIONAL SCOOTER COLLECTIVE<br />
‘<strong>The</strong> Collective’ congregated<br />
outside the recycling zone at Tesco<br />
- and some of ’em look <strong>as</strong> though they have been!<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> got wind of this right local motley crew<br />
just before they scootered off for a right refreshing<br />
(aka boozy) long-weekend away at Camber<br />
Sands in Sussex (Pontins, that is).<br />
To be perfectly honest, it’s not often <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong><br />
becomes intoxicated by anyone or anything it<br />
happens to interview, but the day after bumping<br />
into these guys of the W.I.S.C., I not so accidently<br />
found myself inside Newcombe’s on New<br />
Street in Chelmsford and almost purch<strong>as</strong>ed a<br />
‘Limited Edition’ 300cc Vespa right there and<br />
then, such w<strong>as</strong> the spirit and camaraderie that<br />
these guys evoked.<br />
But I’ve honestly never been into scooters. Not<br />
<strong>as</strong> an adolescent. Not even when Jamie Oliver<br />
first sprang onto our screens with his scooter in<br />
the hallway. Never. Not until I started hiring them<br />
out for peanuts on Thai holidays where you drive<br />
all over the islands without a helmet. Marvellous.<br />
I think that what it w<strong>as</strong>....what it w<strong>as</strong> when I first<br />
saw the W.I.S.C.....I think I just thought, ‘What a<br />
cracking excuse to have a mid-life crisis.’<br />
Maybe some of these guys are reliving their<br />
youth? Whatever. But if I get a scooter, it’ll be a<br />
whole new ball-game for me <strong>as</strong> I’ve never even<br />
owned one before.<br />
Ozzie (Austen Burrows - below right) is their<br />
leader. <strong>The</strong>ir Sting (in Quadrophenia - 1979).<br />
<strong>The</strong>ir leading man. “Took us seven hours to get<br />
to Camber Sands in the end,” he informed <strong>The</strong><br />
<strong>Edge</strong>, “what with all the breakdowns, punctures<br />
and fag stops. Sometimes we’d make detours<br />
through towns just for the crack and it w<strong>as</strong> hilarious<br />
when all 32 of us poured into the same rickety<br />
little caff for a late breakf<strong>as</strong>t. Poor old dear<br />
running the place didn’t know what’d hit her.”<br />
When the guys eventually reached their cell<br />
blocks at Camber Sands, they immediately set<br />
about getting stuck into the 350 quids worth of<br />
beer that their Albanian back-up driver had<br />
couriered down from Tesco, Chelmsford.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n it w<strong>as</strong> a c<strong>as</strong>e of having the three esses - a<br />
shit, a shave, and a shower - before 3,000 scooter<br />
boys/blokes all congregated together for some<br />
serious drinking, dancing (dancing?) and partying<br />
to doubtless Mod-type-tunes until the Burger<br />
Van took a proper p<strong>as</strong>ting at 4:00am.<br />
“Snoring’s a real problem,” admits Oz. “Our<br />
group do seem to be able to make a great deal<br />
of noise.” (Christ, let’s be hearing from some of<br />
their wives and girlfriends<br />
then, ple<strong>as</strong>e,<br />
ladies!)<br />
Only this is what really<br />
worries <strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong>:<br />
the guys were back<br />
up at 8.30am for a<br />
scooter trip en m<strong>as</strong>se<br />
to H<strong>as</strong>tings, and seriously,<br />
how many of<br />
’em would have<br />
p<strong>as</strong>sed a breathalyzer<br />
test, hmmm???<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> does take<br />
its hat off to ’em all<br />
though, because<br />
scootering is pootering<br />
and the bottom line is:<br />
it’s really kinda quirky,<br />
man!<br />
‘Big Shaun’ in his Harrington jacket<br />
Paul Weller’s<br />
Dad, per chance?<br />
<strong>The</strong> guys stock up on isotonic drinks and health food bars for their<br />
‘back-up vehicle’, pre their trip to Sussex.<br />
W.I.S.C. ‘leader of the pack’ Oz & his ‘Man From U.N.C.L.E.’ t-shirt<br />
<strong>Edge</strong> Ed. gets straight down to Newcombe’s to try one out<br />
at the Chelmsford Beer Festival<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Edge</strong> 077 646 797 44 Page 29
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TOTALLY TRACIE<br />
Say Hello - Wave Goodbye<br />
Before I launch into this months tirade of<br />
nonsense, I want to be serious for a<br />
moment and whole heartedly <strong>as</strong>sure<br />
every single <strong>Edge</strong> reader out there that<br />
no-one’s mobile ’phone w<strong>as</strong> hacked into<br />
in order to produce this month’s column.<br />
<strong>The</strong> work you see here is purely off my<br />
own back after a couple of G&T’s and a<br />
bit of prodding to get my arse into gear<br />
by <strong>The</strong> Ed.<br />
That’s not to say I wouldn’t have hacked<br />
into anyone’s ’phone had I been able to<br />
get a signal long enough to do so. You<br />
see, these days, I spend my whole life<br />
hanging out of the front bedroom window,<br />
clinging onto the window sill for<br />
dear life, whilst trying to balance the<br />
’phone in my ear and press the keys in<br />
the vain attempt of possibly getting one<br />
bar up on my cell to actually make a<br />
call. ’Course, none of the slick sales<br />
people told me that there is no signal in<br />
my area and, indeed, it seems to be<br />
most are<strong>as</strong>! <strong>The</strong> cheeky so and so’s<br />
even called me up the other day to<br />
remind me that I still had 2999 minutes<br />
left to use up of my monthly allowance.<br />
Chance would be a fine thing. Oh to be<br />
able to hold a conversation l<strong>as</strong>ting over<br />
10 seconds without the line cutting out<br />
on me.<br />
It’s a dead cert no ’phone hacker came<br />
from this county, that’s for sure.<br />
But I have to say the one thing that puzzles<br />
me more than anything in this<br />
whole sorry saga of ’phone hacking is<br />
how the heck did Ross Kemp, aka Grant<br />
Mitchell from E<strong>as</strong>tenders, ever manage<br />
to marry Rebecca Brooks, the woman<br />
who ran the newspaper behind the<br />
’phone hacking scandal, in the first<br />
place?<br />
Keep Em Peeled<br />
For all those of you about to fly off<br />
somewhere sunny for your hols, be<br />
<strong>as</strong>sured for although we live in dangerous<br />
times, Neighbourhood Watch is on<br />
full alert. Whilst most Neighbourhood<br />
Watch meetings concern themselves<br />
with day-to-day crimes such <strong>as</strong> speeding,<br />
lawn mower thefts and a bit of antisocial<br />
behaviour, police around London<br />
airports and Stansted have been touring<br />
village halls with a rocket launcher to<br />
warn residents of the dangers of terrorism.<br />
Officers have been drafted in from the<br />
special aviation squad and are said to<br />
be particularly concerned that cheap<br />
surface-to-air weapons smuggled in<br />
from Afghanistan could be used by terrorists<br />
to bring down ’planes.<br />
Now hang on a minute. What I want to<br />
Tracie123@aol.com<br />
know is how the hell they smuggle these<br />
weapons onto the aircraft in the first<br />
place? I cannot even manage to get a<br />
pot of face cream on board in my hand<br />
luggage, let alone a rocket launcher.<br />
One thing’s a dead cert though; these<br />
so called terrorists obviously don’t fly<br />
with a budget airline with a restriction of<br />
but 18 kilos of luggage, now do they?<br />
Villagers near the airports are being<br />
urged to dial 999 if they spot anyone<br />
suspicious lurking in the hedgerows with<br />
a missile launcher.<br />
I <strong>as</strong>k you.<br />
Given that, in the p<strong>as</strong>t, the police in<br />
Essex have not been adverse to issuing<br />
EYE-EYE<br />
some Neighbourhood Watch groups with<br />
speed guns to keep us all in line, let’s<br />
just hope they don’t start letting them<br />
play with surface-to-air missiles,<br />
because put it this way, I wouldn’t want<br />
to be any motorist going but a few miles<br />
over the speed limit near Stansted in the<br />
near future.<br />
Top 5<br />
For anyone who h<strong>as</strong> decided to holiday<br />
at home this year and is looking for a<br />
whole new experience, then look no further<br />
than Pevors Farm in Essex, the<br />
proud winners of the Essex Tourism<br />
Award for two consecutive years and<br />
Essex‘s best kept secret. You certainly<br />
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<strong>as</strong> this is exclusively a holiday for<br />
naturists, set in acres of woodland and<br />
meadows, situated right in the very<br />
heart of our county. Pevors proudly<br />
bo<strong>as</strong>ts itself <strong>as</strong> being in the top 5 of<br />
‘bare all’ places in the UK. It is run to a<br />
very high standard by John and<br />
Margaret Lewis, who themselves love to<br />
sunbathe in the buff and regularly join<br />
their guests for cocktails.<br />
When <strong>as</strong>ked what the best advice they<br />
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do remember to sit on a towel“ - (especially<br />
useful advice when sitting on the<br />
cream sofa‘s). So, if you fancy getting<br />
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Red Red Wine - Makes Me<br />
Feel So Fine<br />
For all of us who have struggled with fitness<br />
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dairy milk whilst typing this), finally some<br />
good news. Scientists have made an<br />
exciting breakthrough, calling it ‘exercise<br />
in a bottle’. (I just love the sound of this<br />
one already!) Research shows that<br />
drinking red wine every day helps fight<br />
the flab. It’s apparently got something to<br />
do with an antioxidant called ‘reseveratrol’<br />
(try saying that after a few bottles of<br />
Merlot).<br />
LOVE IS IN THE AIR<br />
A long term study of 20,000 people<br />
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of gl<strong>as</strong>ses of red wine per day put on<br />
much less weight than those who stuck<br />
to soft drinks and water. So stick that up<br />
your jumper, all you health freaks who<br />
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Evian to your lips 24/7.<br />
Presumably the theory must be that the<br />
more you drink, the more fitter you get?<br />
Well, after a couple of crates of Pinot<br />
Noir, undoubtedly I could have the arse<br />
of Kylie Minogue.<br />
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