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A place where i can have a spray, post photo's and maintain some form of diary, even if just for my own amusement. All images, unless otherwise noted, were taken from the internet and are assumed to be in the public domain. In the event that there is a problem or error with copyrighted material, the break of the copyright is unintentional and noncommercial and the material will be removed upon request. S-T-A-U-N-C-HDifferent stuff
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Stuff for me
Not quite Hollywood.
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Norman Yemm.
I was sad to hear of Norman Yemm’s passing. Norman was an early TV hero of mine, he played ‘Harry Collins’ on Number 96. He was always causing his poor wife Vera all sorts of trouble and harm. Norman also had a club act that he would tour around the provincials.
The night Norman brought his act to Corrimal Leagues club, my dad, as ever, was holding court. When Norman finished his act he passed dads table, dad reared up, yelled ‘What did you do to Vera Collins you Bastard!!!!!!’, then invited Norman to sit at the table with he and Mama and the rest of dads followers, where they proceeded to drink and become besties.
I awoke the next morning to the odor of a beer soaked Corrimal Leagues club coaster on my bedside table, it was inscribed,
‘To Greg, all the very best, Norman Yemm (Harry Collins)’, my very first celebrity autograph
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Dr Sir Lesley Colin Patterson, embracing the bouquet of a piece of Tasmanian brie he had just discovered in his back pocket.
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That joke isn’t funny anymore.
Is there any greater pain to endure in life, than sitting in a room with people, when one of them tries to tell a joke, and the person has no delivery style?.
Everyone starts to squirm (in my case, doubling over in agony), you can hear in their voice they know they are failing, they lose their train of tenuous though, and then deliver a punchline that makes no sense.
“Oh, I stuffed that up”.
People are at first silent, and then offer lame comfort, ‘I sorta understood it’.
But nay, not I, I will glower at you for the rest of the time I’m in your company.
Unless you can really tell a joke, DON’T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.
I couldn’t tell one to save my life, but I have a mechanism in my brain that tilts, and stops me from ever trying.
As soon as this guy started to tell the joke an instant pall fell upon the room, everyone knew this was going to be agony. If I were more of a compassionate man, I would have risen and said ‘STOP!!, you don’t want to do this, WE don’t want you to do this, don’t make me silence you’, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry.
Unless your name is Gilbert Gottfried, shut up, zip it!, shoosh!, don’t do it, don’t consider it, a whole lot of hush.
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