Symptoms

The Waitrose shopping experience IS a 'life style choice' by those demanding some sort of exclusivity whilst pushing their trolleys so they're usually (always) located in fairly affluent areas. I'm not sure Bedders would be described as affluent by the Waitrose bosses so it wouldn't be considered as a location (ditto Ashington), however, Morpeth would seem to fit the bill perfectly. Yep, I'm sure there are grotty bits in Morpeth but is suspect the perception is of it being a 'nice' middle-class sort of a place. When I lived in London I had a choice of a couple of Waitrose stores nearby ... joy, oh joy when doing the shopping. Wide aisles, polished fruit & veg, beautifully neat and tidy, delightful atmosphere, excellent choice of 'unusual' scoff, excellent choice in the booze section, lovely staff ... oh, and no rampaging screaming brats, no fat folks in their polyester shell suits stacking their barrows with white bread, crisps and biscuits.

Fracking perhaps?

But will it fit in the front pocket of my jeans?

Pilgrim ... you're right about Willy's huge white woof. Joicey (I can't remember his full name) was a friend of my Dad ... they used to go shooting together on local farms and on the range over Ponteland way. I remember his house had a blue, peaked canopy over the front door.

Kia-Ora Orange Squash ... yuk! I have a clear memory of it tasting like paraffin. Vile stuff.

Look the modern day snappers are exactly the same as those old guys who painted lasses with their kit off and are just the same as those old guys who painted the magic lantern slides showing lasses hoiking their bustles down; they are just the same as those old guys who created the early flicker books showing lasses peeling off their silk stockings and they are the same as those old guys creating their daguerreotypes of lasses whipping off their cami knickers; they are the same as those old guys who .... Yep, you get the idea! Why? To feed the base need for all those 'dirty old men in their grubby macks'. These are the same 'dirty old men' who paw over page 3 and attempt to access the throbnet via their sticky keyboards. Oh, and it's very noticeable how very, very young many of these glamour models are, still in or barely out of adolescence - "call the Jimmy Savile Squad".

It certainly could be Willy Hall. In the early 60s I was in Willy's First Bedlington Scouts based on Ridge Terrace (opposite the West End Primary School) ... in the past I've posted elsewhere on the Forum about this. If this photo is from the mid-50s (I think it is) then it would fit as it shows Willy a bit younger than I remember him in the 60s. He lived in a big house on Hartford Road opposite the entrance into South Riggs ... according to Google Street View it no longer exists ... I remember it had a big underground air raid shelter in the garden. The Scout HQ was a purpose-built building, complete with offices, shop, hall/gym (wall bars, ropes, vaulting horse, etc. plus a stage for shows) a rear yard with workshops - all sadly demolished according to Street View. Of course, the troupe also had Humford Hollow for outward bound and camping activities.

We demand that Maggs publishes the snap showing her broken wing.

Ah, good old Aneurin "Nye" Bevan ... he visited Bedders in '54 & '56 for the Miners Picnic. A so-called 'Giant' of the Labour Party; shame the present day version is infested by political minnows. Foxy ... I'm not there - wasn't living in Bedders at that time.

CD wrote: "If such a site did not have such a number, what would that mean exactly?" It means it ain't registered as freehold or leasehold ... if it had been registered it would have an ID number or letter.

Foxy, I'm glad you're posting your photos, complete with anti-theft watermarks, but have you considered reducing the percentage of 'opacity' in the text to render them a bit more 'transparent'? Whilst still protecting your images from theft doing this will allow us to enjoy them a bit more and maybe gleen a bit more info from them. Thus a thought.

What!!!!! Eric & Ern weren't 'living in sin'?

The Land Registry should provide you with a 'Block Plan' showing your crib & land plus all neighbouring stuff. Each plot will be identified with a number or letter allowing owner ID but this is only the case if the plot has been registered. A suprising amount of land isn't registered because it's remained in the same hands for decades and hasn't been 'transferred' to new owners since 1990 (I think that date is correct ... from memory). Most councils have 'online' planning portals and with a bit of imagination it's possible to navigate these and 'deduce' ownership of parcels of land and neighbouring holdings, eg. has a named neighbour objected to an application, and so on. Another trick is to see if there's any leasehold land in the area via the Land Registry and ask the Leaseholder (or more probably their agent) if they own the plot you're interested in; many 'historic' Leaseholders transferred bits of their holdings, say for housing developments, but retained odd bits.

I said his Dad was a stockbroker. I like what he said about Fritz.

Both of them are privately educated 'public school boys' but only the fat one went to Oxford Uni whilst the skinny one went into a job in the City that his stockbroker dad organised for him. So, not much to choose between them. I suppose the fat one has a book deal or a comedy tour to promote which might explain why he's chucked his hat into the ring.

Aye! A land of full-employment. Maybe somebody should collate data about the ever-increasing numbers of those on zero hours contracts, or three jobs to make ends meet, or the zombie jobs. Welcome to modern Blighty.

What's Lady Gaga got to do with anything? Then I re-read the post ... "The lady Ggg was referring ..." So the question now is - do we have the courage to call GGG - Lady Gaga?

Headphones in '69!!!! All my student grant went on backy, booze, dope and LPs. Nothing left for headphones.

Sorry, I meant to add a final paragraph to the above but MrsSym called me down for the evening nosebag (yum, yum) so didn't have time. Anyway, here it is: A football club who wishes to sign Evans should do so ... yep, he has a right to work. However, said club and Evans should expect torrents of abuse from away supporters, many home supporters, etc., etc. Football, after all, is populated by many revolting individuals (some directors, some managers and some players) and one more ain't going to make much difference. GGG ... that's a great photo. Maybe we'll be seeing similar scenes in Frogland soon.

Every Friday and Saturday night up and down Blighty folks are getting rat arsed and incapable. If a person is incapable of giving informed consent to having sexual intercourse then is is rape. It really is as simple as that. The jury in the Evans case believed the prosecution's evidence and so convicted him. His defense team clearly didn't present enough evidence for an aquittal. It really is as simple as that. He served half his sentence and is out on license ... which means he's still serving a sentence for rape. It really is as simple as that. None of these facts are solely feminist issues but should exercise all right thinking people. Pity the idiots have commandeered the agenda.

Aghh! Not Leonard Cohen ... no, no, no! Nightmare! Why? First year in Halls of Residence (1969) the guy in the next room to me only ever played LC, on and on and on it went ... ditties to commit suicide by. Obviously, an important cultural influence for the Cramilington Budgie Strangler. I had to blast out Cream to neutralise the neighbouring dirges.

My Mum was always keen (almost obsessed?) about getting the 'first footer' organised in advance of the midnight gongs and, as Paul says, a lump of coal was always to hand. Funny thing was she wasn't normally a superstitious person but I suppose it was something carried over from her childhood; perhaps there lies the clue in why it isn't widely practiced these days ... lack of community continuity. We lived in the Riggs and New Years Eve was a really big deal with most households visiting each other's houses around the Riggs ... a bit like a pub crawl. The sessions would start early, say 8pm, and go on 'till maybe 5 or 6 in the morning. Some houses would have a band playing (I've mentioned before about being in bands that did these sorts of gigs) with everybody stuffed into a front room dancing to the music and getting rat arsed. My Dad used to brew his own beer and liquor (he had a glass still for distilling the hooch ... I remember he sent off to London after seeing an advert in the Exchange & Mart for the still and it arrived in a wooden crate swaddled in straw) so there was always gallons of booze available for folks to quaff.

Thank goodness the Yankees have discovered good taste and strangled the Cramlington Budgie Strangler's dodgy offering. Qualifies as a "One Hit Wonder" in my book: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-30698228

As the Forum's most vociferous Republican I'd defend Sherrington's right to slag-off Betty Saxe-Coburg and Gotha and all her spawn; if he's said anything slanderous let her snivelling kowtowing briefs sue I've been saying it for ages here that they, and all they represent, have no place in a modern Blighty. Their revolting disease of entitlement knows no bounds ... just look at the recent Yankee news reports, or who joined Jimmy Savile at his remote Welsh cottage, or who is protected for 100 years by a gag on the Cullen Inquiry evidence into Dunblane, or who is protected for 100 years by a gag on the Denning Inquiry into Profumo, or the 'headless man' affair. Hands off the Beeb I say. Leave editorial decisions to their editors even when they shine a burning bright light on the antics of neo-Nazis, wherever they lurk. Certainly, Auntie's emphasis is sometimes misplaced but so what ... I reckon it all balances out in the end. No licence fee can only mean being in hock to BigBacky, BigBooze, BigLekky, assorted BigYankee dictating editorial direction, oh, and wall-to-wall adverts.

Oh no! I seem to remember the last time there was a major review of the site's giblets the place went dark for a couple of years. Assurances needed.