Symptoms

HP - my daily diet of essential nourishment (brain food) is an aperitif, usually the Guardian's Sport Section. A starter is always the main Guardian paper taken with my porridge (which has been garnished with blue-berries). The main course is generally a choice of something light from BBC4 or something more wholesome from Sky Arts 2, an opera or a ballet maybe. Now with dessert I'm spoilt for choice ... the Guardian's G2 or a nibble of Newsnight. Bliss, shear bliss, and not an ounce of fat in sight.

Excellent work so far! Grey is the new black ... very stylish, and I vote to keep it. Just a note to those responsible; consider automatically introducing a riot of coloured chintz, flock-wallpaper background to monsta's postings and I'll have a black and white striped one please. As to the "bedlington.co.uk" at the masthead, as a graphic it is perfectly acceptable to use all lower-case lettering; as a proper noun, the word Bedlington (when used within a text) should always start with a capital letter.

HP wrote: "Has anyone ever even considered buying a pair of shoes from there? It makes one wonder how these places have stayed open so long." The problem is most folks tend to to be shod in trainers these days - and these generally fat, out of condition lumps are often seen wearing track-suits ... oh the irony of it all. All this inappropriate clobber (90% of which is made by slave-labour in the Chinese gulags or the kiddy sweat-shops of the Far East) is usually bought in retail park sheds. No wonder the local shopkeepers don't stand a chance of survival, never mind being able to sell quality clothes or shoes. Thank goodness I can pop across the Saville Row for my tailored shirts and hand-made leather shoes.

Here is the sequel:

A big, emotional lump has developed ... not in the 'trouser department' but in my throat at the news. Actually, I'm also getting a bulge 'downstairs' at the thought of a Shearer led future.

I say that those who are able to maintain good standards in grammar, syntax, punctuation and half-a-hundred other rules should continue to do so; we of the GCE 'O'level English generation have a duty of care to the Forum. A word of warning ... do we really want to leave this place in the hands of the entry-level communicators or their spawn, those only capable of using texting structure?

Perhaps, for us exiles, somebody still living in Bedlington could do a pub/club head-count. Maybe the survey could start at the area at the top of Front St and show those still in business and what's happened to those that have closed (new use). Old timers on here could fill-in any gaps, eg. Top Club on Front St burned down approx date (?), Tankerville Arms on Glebe Rd demolished approx date (?).

Where's TokyoGirl when we need her?

Was it on Front St in the 60's? I remember us lads going in and each getting a free bag (sort of a paper twist) of batter - couldn't afford the chips 'cos we'd spent the money on tabs (pack of 5 Woodbines or was it a pack of 3)?

I say don't needle Mr Darn - he always has a point.

Blank - never. I fill my head with knowledge and I'm interested in what others have to say and always appreciate another viewpoint. This allows me to have a vibrant social life in the Capital's wine bars. Bored? ... I don't have a minute to get bored. Yep, there's also all the Toon's matches in London. Monsta - no, no dear boy. What little time I have for telly is exhausted by current affairs, a decent documentary, the odd film ... Oh, and footy. I can honestly say I've only ever watched one episode of that damp sponge Corry - the very first one back in the 60's when I was a nipper ... never again. I realised the potential damage it causes to the brain cells. Mercuryg - a list is being prepared at this very moment for your enlightenment ... "Hold the Front Page!!!" Malc - I knew Ken in the old GLC days and he was a consummate politician, a skilled operator (he must have studied The Prince every morning when eating his Cornflakes) and yes, he was 'colourful'. He was also the sort you wanted on your side. This didn't change until, as I said, the last couple of years of what was developing into a reign (in the Emperor sense) ... he began to loose the plot. His time may come again. I too love Boris ... Boris the Clown. Can't get enough of the jester ... he was on Channel 4 news tonight talking about ectoplasm. Wonderful stuff.

Malcolm - during Ken's terms as Mayor much good work was done, it's a shame he spoilt it all in the final couple of years by stubbornly protecting his 'bag-carrier' Lee Jasper. It made Ken look crooked ... something he never was ... and lost him the election. The "camp guard" comment was blown out of all proportion by the London Standard newspaper (part of the Daily Mail evil empire) and that soiled rag itself, The Mail. This information may seem irrelevant to those who naturally inhabit this place, however, for the legions of the morbidly obese, slumped in their groaning chairs whilst stuffing chocolates down their gizzards when only watching endless soaps and never reading a decent newspaper my mission is to educate.

Never miss it Denzel! However, my interest in all things Boris is down to me not voting for him ... Ken* was my man; yep, I'm a London Mag. *for the "legions of the morbidly obese, slumped in their groaning chairs whilst stuffing chocolates down their gizzards" when only watching endless soaps and never reading a decent newspaper - Ken Livingston was the former Mayor of London, ex-Leader of the wonderful GLC (Greater London Council), thorn-in-the-side of that bitch Thatcher, supporter of the Miners and victim of the slavish Tory (pause to spit) press. Younger viewers may want to Google - Thatcher; Miners.

Vibrant Secure Bucolic but then I'm sitting in my chair, like Michael Corleone, thinking about the 'old days'.

Remember what Boris Johnson (for all those who isolated themselves in the plastic world of Soap Opera and Z-List Celebs he's the Mayor of London ) called it at the Olympics ... "whiff-waff". Got a certain ring to it; I can just imagine some of the locals calling-out across Front Street - "fancy a game of whiff-waff, Geordie?".

Don't be daft Cympil, my call for rejoicing is triggered by the whole sorry saga coming to an end; it's not about what is clearly a family tragedy ... one that IMO should always remain a private affair (family & friends). My objection to this orchestrated, cynical money-grabbing festival being played-out endlessly in the media, is one of shame that there are so many gullible nobs out there who think it's all 'real'. I say folks should develop their own lives and not live them through some 'plastic' person off the telly ... they'll all be thinking East Enders & Coronation Street is real. I can just imagine legions of the morbidly obese, slumped in their groaning chairs whilst stuffing chocolates down their gizzards, believing they are somehow part of what they are viewing. Pathetic! I would expect people who know me to rejoice at me croaking to spare continued pain and suffering and not at being riddled with cancer. Shame on you Cympil. Anyway, with Easter approaching maybe Max Clifford can organise a miraculous resurrection of Saint Jade (got a nice ring to it) ... Oh, I know that's been done before but just think of the loot that could be generated this time, especially with cameras around. Just think what Christianity could have been if they had cameras.

I say "bring back Bacci's in the Market Place!" This 60's billiard hall was the place where mis-spent youth could be generated ... ah, happy days (as long as parents didn't find out)! I seem to remember he had a couple of tables at the back of the café then more upstairs in the hall, access up a narrow rickety staircase ... but maybe memory is playing tricks. Also I can't remember if Bacci is the correct spelling. Maybe others can confirm.

It's time to dig-out with the prayer mats and invoke a curse on the mackemscum and the smoggies. Seems like it'll be our only hope.

Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice ... no more wasting valuable space on the evening news. I made a crack down at the pub saying that if Tony Blair had still been Prime Minister he would have stood before the cameras and talked about "The People's Princess" ... another one. Well, what happens next? Gordon Brown appears before the cameras and ....

50 mile tailbacks as they wait to lay wreaths at Jade Goody's front door - stupid, misguided, gullible fools!

GGG wrote: "Old days: school matron (often doubling another job) dabs a bit of TCP on it and a sticky plaster; admonishes kid to be more careful. Life (and education) continue." Blimmey, kids at my school ran the risk of being plonked on the knee (or more often than not the lap) of Mr X (name withheld for legal reasons) for 'care & attention'. He always seemed very 'pleased' to offer comfort and always mentioned the bulge in his trousers was his baccy tin. TCP & sticky plaster, puh! GGG went to the softies school

Claire, why not ask the Padre who'll be drenching the nipper if he has an arrangement with any local caterer/venue - must be a common request. For something different consider a picnic if the weather's fine.

The 1960s Toon winger Alan Suddick died this weekend. I saw him for the last couple of his years at SJP before he left for Blackpool and will always remember his tricky wing play - a good player.

"Quick - let's take him from behind."

I wish she's just get on with it and put us all, and herself, out of misery. What might be a so called tragedy for her immediate family should remain just that ... private and not an obscene grab for cash. Of course, it could all be a con; once all the loot's been gathered in a quick trip to Lourdes for a miracle cure. Aye, Max Clifford's dabs are all over this one!