This afternoon me and da Gang wos hangin' out in da Olde English Tea Rooms, jus' chillin'.

We wosn't doin' nuffink! We wos just havin' a larf. We gotta go somewhere, innit!

Well! Noddy, my best mate, kep goin' out to the toilet cos he's got a problem wiv that, and we wos all larfin' and jokin' about him and callin' out, "You alright in there, Nod?", and I froo a Viennese Whirl at Charlie and the crumbs went all over the floor, and he fell off da chair, innit! We wos like havin' a good time and bein' happy.

Well! There wos these three schoolkids sat in the corner whisperin'. Then one of them looked at us and said, "Could you lot be quiet, some of us are trying to do homework!"

That done it! Charlie got slowly up on his Zimmer and snarled, "You wot?", showin' 'em his apple corer.
"You heard!", said the young fart, visibly rattled but still showin' disrespeck to us.

We all went over and Charlie pulled the smartalec's schoolcap over his eyes and Noddy poured his Camomile Tea all over their exercise books. Then we all legged it!

They gotta show Respeck, Man! Best bit wos, we ran out da caff wivout leavin' a tip! Ha! Ha! We is da kings of round here!

Hi dare Bruv! How's it hanging, Man? Jus to let you know I is fed up wiv havin' nuthin' to do since they closed the Darby and Joan club on my estate. Nobody thinks about us Oldies and findin' us fings to do wot ain't just BAUR-RING!!
Now I'm nearly 70 I jus wanna 'ave a larf, Man.

I is startin' my own Gang! Anyone want to join? No one younger than 50, innit. Da uniform is baseball caps and hoodies, and don't wear no braces, Man, cos your jeans is spose to be hangin' down near your crotch, Man.

We gotta have a name for dis Gang. Anyone got any ideas? I was finkin' "The Baldy Boys" or sumfink.

Meet me outside Patel's Corner Shop. We'll 'ave a larf at any young kids wot walk by and show 'em we want Respeck!!
Bring some fags and a cuppla cans.

One last fing! You better bring sometin' to proteck yourself.
Arx your granddaughter if you can look in her kitchen drawer. I got a wicked potato peeler, Man!

I spent about 2 hours this morning trying unsuccessfully to change my profile on Blog.co.uk. I wanted to bring it up to date for 2008. Having torn out what remains of my hair whilst being taken round in circles by BLUK's Edit Profile links, I was ready to lash out.

First I went on the Help blog and the Bugs blog to see if anyone else was having similar problems. There were many complaints about bloggers unable to change their profile photos, but most seemed to originate from some time ago. I considered sending a private post to all my friends seeking help. I toyed with the idea of lambasting Blog.co.uk as having become too slow and cumbersome, and riddled with problems. I even thought of retiring from the blogscene altogether or at least starting afresh with the competition!

Then in desperation I closed my normal AOL browser and opened Mozilla Firefox to try one final time. Blog.co.uk opened immediately. The Edit Profile link worked like a dream! And calm descended once more in the Grumpus household!!

Right! Now whose fault was it that I couldn't edit my profile?? Was it Blog.co.uk? Was it AOL?? Was it MINE!!??
Calm down!! Repeat after me ... computers are wonderful ... computers are wonderful ...

I sent this to all my grandchildren. Might as well let you lot see it too ... and how I waste my time when I should be peeling sprouts!!

Have a wonderful Christmas ... all you Bloggers wherever you are.

Ho! Ho! Ho! It's here again. Time to celebrate the birth of Santa. Time to tap up the old Flexible Friend in order to buy shedloads of useless tat for people who already have everything.

Time to give the carbon footprint a boost with all those twinkly lights all over the house, having wasted hours unravelling them and testing every bulb to find the dud ones that stop the whole string from working.

Time to rick your back getting two 20 year old plastic trees and six boxes of baubles out of the loft, just as you remember you did the same thing last January putting them up there!

Time to scribble a few lies on those last minute Xmas cards to people you hoped you'd heard the last of.

Time to stock up with more food than you and your guests could possibly consume (just in case), knowing you'll end up scoffing most of it yourself well into the New Year, and having to re-enroll at Fat Fighters until you can't be arsed to suffer the indignity of the weekly weigh-in any more.

Time for "Carol Singers" !! (Groan!) Fortunately, since 80% of people can no longer even name two carols, let alone remember any of the words, the practise has almost died out. All you get nowadays is the occasional gaggle of giggly teenagers, who lean on the door-bell until you open it, then, with expectant palm outstretched in your face, mumble "Wish you Me'y Crismus 'n Happy Noo Yeeeear!"

My response is to ask if they actually KNOW any carols. They look at me as if I am insane and grunt. I take that as a no, and suggest they go away and learn two carols and come back and sing at least two verses of each, in which case I might reward them. Guess how many have ever returned.

Happy Christmas to one and all.