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Hello Possums,

Well, it’s been a tumultuous week here at Weedkiller Headquarters; despite all our efforts, our recently appointed food guru, the fabulous Delia Smith, has been lured back to Waitrose. Our interior design team bent over backwards to create the ideal working environment for her by painting her office in canary yellow with upholstery in Norwich City colours; her package included luncheon vouchers, bus pass and even her own personal keys to the executive loos; all to no avail. Pippa has also declined, due to her festive commitments at Waitrose. She is presenting her festive tips: such as the self-pulling cracker for people on their own at Christmas, an indoor snow machine, a pack of expensive wine labels to disguise cheap plonk, tabletop hock and a nice goose on the dinner-table.

It’s drinks all round at ‘The Rover’s Return’ tonight, as the re-opening of Webster’s Garage is announced. Kevin, who is a reformed teetotaler, will be donning his overalls once again at the Corrie garage, where it will be business as usual.

In the wake of the recent security breach at Buckingham Palace, over zealous royal protection squad officers had the audacity to challenge Prince Andrew in the grounds of the Palace. “Don’t you know who One is?” he bellowed, throwing down his putter in a temper tantrum. “I’m going to tell Mummy” he added, as he stormed back to the waiting helicopter for a lift back to the front door. As a result, officers, that are deployed until the early hours to taxi tipsy Royals home from London’s exclusive nightclubs, will be assigned to boost security at the Palace.

Her Majesty’s portrait by Rolf Harris has been removed from show after certain accusations were made against him. However, the Queen is quite relieved, because Rolf would ring her every morning saying “Ja know wot it is jeet?“

Ramsbottom, Lancs: The 100 year old tradition of black-pudding hurling has so far escaped the attention of the health and safety brigade. The competition involves attempting to tumble a tower of Yorkshire puddings with well aimeded black-puddings, apparently the spectacle represents the two sides in ‘The War of the Roses’. Up until know this has been an all male dominated event, but local ladies have now shown an interest in joining the pudding club.

An Australian pig is on the run, after chopping and slurping its way through 18 tinnies of lager, after raiding a campsite. The culprit was last seen going round in circles, before being chased off by a cow. Investigating officers, conducting the search, asked a local lady if she had seen a big drunken pig; “Heck no! My Billy won’t be home until the bars close“.

Glaswegians are beginning to speak like Cockneys due to the influence of ‘Eastenders’. Weedkiller’s Raving Reporter, Lynne Guistic, is vox popping on the streets of Glasgow as we speak:

“Excuse me Sir, are you a fan of Eastender?”
“Actually A’m a Celtic supporter.”
“No, I meant the Soap on TV.”
“Och, A’m with ye noo. A never miss it; all that violence and swearing, it’s just like hame. An’ see tha’ bonnie Barbra Windsor, A’d chase her up the old apples and pears before ye could say Rabbie Burns.”
“Do you think the programme has affected the local dialect here in Glasgow?”
“Mebbie a wee bit me old china plate. Anyways, A’ve had seven pints of laughter and titter, an’ one or two hot and friskies. A’m off te face the old trouble and strife for some dinner. A’m Hank Marvin me old cock sparrow. Ta Ta.“

Bye for now, Paul B.