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TRCH The Da Vinci Code

May Contain Notts: Aug-Sept 2010

25 September 10 words: Al Needham

The last two months news, including: Vuvezelas, honourary degrees, Goose Fair plans, karaoke bars, kerbcrawlers, Trent FM and more

21 July
Forest and County announce that vuvuzelas are to be banned for the forthcoming season, for fear of anyone there making actual noise, instead of staring in blank, open-mouthed sheepy silence like football fans are supposed to do nowadays. So if you hear any wasp-like droning at Meadow Lane, don’t panic; it’s most likely the hearing aids getting feedback off the pacemakers.

22 July
Billy Connolly and Sir David Attenborough get lobbed honorary degrees off Nottingham Trent. One question; why do they even bother with this sort of thing? Is Billy Connolly gonna look at his degree and go; “Well, sod having me own TV programme where I bomb around New Zealand on a massive motorbike – I am now qualified for a low-entry admin job at Experian”?

4 August
A young local mongling has been banned from Sneinton for smashing up wheelie bins to make sledges with, meaning that he’s either a seasonally-confused cretin, or it takes ages for anyone to get done in Notts. If he’s having this page read to him, listen up, youth; knackered-up fridge-freezers make brilliant bobsleighs, and there’s loads of them knocking about Sneinton.

6 August
A copper in Stapleford gets done for accidentally tasering a 14 year-old girl when restraining some bloke who was on that antisocial one. Come on, Notts Police, this is Stapleford. All you need to do to make people run off there is make your taser crackle a bit
in front of them and then go “Look, this is electricity. Man’s blue fire”.

16 August
The Council announce that the big rammelly chav-magnet Happy Shopper Alton Towers known as Goose Fair will run an extra day this year, just in case anyone in the Nottingham area has a rabid craving to get rinsed and knacker their best trainers up on a Sunday.

24 August
Extraordinary scenes in the Coach and Horses (town’s secondmaddest karaoke bar, and the exact inverse of the Old Dog and Partridge, because everyone in there is actually nice), when someone stabs theirself several times in the chest. If only they could have waited until they got on the karaoke and asked for I Wanna Be Your Dog or something else by Iggy and the Stooges; they would have won the meat platter.

28 August
More fun and japery in Aspley – Darwin’s waiting room – as a cheeky young scamp gets done for knocking about his brother’s girlfriend and shoving a lit firework down her trackie bottoms, presumably for not being related to either of them.

29 August
A nightclub in Mansfield called QI – yes, they named a club in Mansfield after something with Stephen Fry in it – gets shut down after ten serious assaults and five glassings in two months. The club’s slogan? ‘Intelligent Clubbing’. Presumably ‘Logical Stabbing’ and ‘Cerebral Shagging Against The Biffa Bin Round The Back’ had been trademarked by someone else.

1 September
Fifteen kerbcrawlers get taken down by the police around the red light area. Message to the owners of that fancy dress shop that went out of business the other month; if you had changed your name to ‘Forest Road Kerbcrawling Disguise Rental’ you would have rinsed it.

2 September
Mansfield Town announce a special offer to all Forest fans: present your season ticket at Field Mill, and see Mansfield v Tamworth for a tenner. And then, presumably, hand over your car for a free sandwich board that reads; ‘HEY! I’M A RIGHT THICK TWAT, ME!’

3 September
The B Bar on Heathcote Street gets shut down for four weeks after three blokes get stabbed outside. While the Thurland’s been shut, there’s been signs in the window telling folk to go to the B Bar. Funny that, eh?

6 September
A woman who had an epileptic fit at a bingo hall in Beeston gets barred out due to ‘health and safety reasons’. In a pig’s arse was it – It was due to moaning cows getting the hump that someone having an eppy was actually claiming a full house when they only wanted 47, and the caller had just said 48, as if that actually had any statistical bearing on what is essentially a random game of pure chance. I used to be a bingo caller, I know what I’m going on about.

7 September
Then they’d knock over a pot of peas to grab your Sta-Prest clad arse while you’re giving out change during the prize bingo and screech; “Eeh, I’ve had bigger lads than yo’, duckeh”

12 September
A mother-and-son partnership from St Anns get done for beating someone up on Broad Street. I suppose I should be looking down on at this sort of thing, but I’m sorry – teaming up with my Mam to kick someone in would be the absolute highlight of my life. I’d love to see me Mam get someone in a headlock and screech; “Put some licks down on this pussyclaat eejat bwoy, Our Al! And then I’ll do you some crinkle-cut chip cobs, just how you like them, and you can stop up to watch It’s A Knockout and The Goodies.” God, I’m starting to roar just thinking about it.

13 September
It’s announced that Radio Trent – and yes, I still call it ‘Radio Trent’, just like I call ITV ‘ATV’ and Snickers ‘Marathons’ – is to be killed off. The bad news that it’s going to be taken over by some London gimps and merged with RAM FM and Leicester Sound, so you’ll still have to listen to Robbie bastard Williams eight times a day at your crap office job.

14 September
Nottingham is announced as the least car-dependent city in the UK. Which means that the trams have been a roaring success, or that there’s nowhere to park in town, or that rat-faced council youths from this Politically Correct Nu Labour Hell have stolen them all, depending on your point of view.

15 September
Oh Ray Gosling, you poor, poor sod.

21 September
Someone gets done for being caught by police outside Brownes with a packet of flour up his ringpiece - which he was either trying to pass off as wanker powder or saving it in the hope of copping off with a fat bird in a school uniform at Reflex, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Think on, cokey shopboys – next time you’re bent over a bog seat in Hockley, you’re effectively sniffing someone elses arsehole. Nice.

22 September
A 76 year-old bloke gets his wrists slapped for putting a workman’s life at risk by leaning out the window of his flat and trying to cut the poor sod’s rope while he was abseiling down the building, like he was Wile E. Coyote. He was later seen rubbing his hands together with glee when DHL delivered a crate marked; ‘ACME INDUSTRIES ROCKET-POWERED JET-PACK’.

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