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Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Song # 706

This song is now on my STG bloggage...

Monday, December 12, 2011

A Comedy Script.

SCRIPT (For The Claremont) by Anagram Andy.
Last time I came to a comedy night at The Claremont, Colin Bell was King of The Kippax and the revolving doors were still here.
The bouncer outside handed me a leaflet that said: COMEDY NIGHT and Magician! In big letters.
And underneath that it read: Tuesday – Liverpool Empire, Wednesday – Manchester Apollo, Thursday – The Claremont!…
I said, “There’s got to be something wrong with that?… How much does it cost?”
The bouncer said, “It’s free to get in… but you might want to pay to get out!”
I gave him the leaflet back, and started to push the revolving doors open, I was half way round when I heard him shout “And, take your bike clips off!”
I had visions of Strangeways and me dropping my soap in the shower, so I carried on walking all the way round, and back out into the street again. I was half way to the Bee Hive when I remembered that I’d chained my bike to the pipe outside, so I came back.
“That’s funny,” I said to the bouncer, (Scratching my head) “I’m sure I had two wheels when I parked my bike here before!”
“That’s not funny!” said the bouncer… “What’s funny is that bloke from the Magic show! He came on a pogo-stick…(Bong, bong, bong!)  …and he just left on a Unicycle!" (Doing the cycle impression and whistling, Raindrops keep falling on my head!)
Anyway, just to confuse you… I’m Anagram Andy, Ian Biro’s my pen name… my real name is Parker… The magic marker!
Only joking, (Slobberchops impression) They call me Slobberchops…  when I go like that! (Slobberchops impression again)
I used to write with a magic marker, but like the jokes, the ink dried up!
So, I went to the doctors the other day, to find out what was wrong with me.
I said,  “Doctor, I think I’ve got a drink problem!”
He said, “Why, how much do you drink?”
I said, “About ten pints of bitter!”
He said “Don’t worry about it, ten pints a week is about average!”
I said, “But, Doctor I drink ten pints a session!”
He said, “Yeah, but how many times a week do you go out?”
I said “ About three times a day! …. Can you help me Doctor?”
“Okay,” said the Doctor, “What you need is a holiday, just lay off the beer for a bit, and drink the odd red wine!”
I was talking to that geezer at the bar before, did you see him?… with the ski mask on?… I thought I know him!… I’ve seen him on the telly!… I’m sure they said he was a Swiss banker… on Crimewatch!  
So I Said to him, “What’s it like in Switzerland these days, mate?”
And he said, “It’s all down hill, mate… (doing the slalom impression with his hand!)”
So I asked him (raising my right hand up slowly) if he knew what those…
He said “If you do that in Berlin, you’ll get arrested!”
So I asked him again, I said “Do you know what those trains are called that go up mountains?” (Raising my right hand up slowly)
“No,” he said. “I don’t know what they’re called, but they are a funny colour!” 
“Funicular?” I said, “Where are you living these days, mate?”
He said, (Raising his right hand up slowly) “Up Bury New Road!”
I thought, He’s goin’ back down! (doing the slalom impression)….  Some people do have, Strangeways! 
Anyway, we go everywhere all the time, and we were in Switzerland ourselves a few weeks ago, and when we got to the campsite…  there was a big notice, it read: (In an exaggerated German accent) ‘Welcome to the Jung Frau Campsite. You WILL enjoy yourself!’
And some bright spark had scribbled underneath with a magic marker: “But not here!”
It’s a funny place Switzerland, they speak three or four languages, it’s the same  wherever you go in Europe, whatever language you speak to them in, they always answer you back in perfect English.
Like I said, we go everywhere all the time, and we were in Paris the other night, and we did the sights, up the Eiffel tower, (raising my hand up slowly) and down The Champs Elysees, (Doing the slalom impression) up the little funicular to SacreCoer, (raising my right hand up slowly) and all the way back down to Notre Dame, (Doing the slalom impression).
I said to this French bloke, I knew he was French because he was wearing a beret and a string of onions round his neck. I said “Where’s the dead centre of Paris mate?”
And he said “Pere La Chaise!, follow me…” ( Impression - do him pushing his push-bike, exaggerated, and whistling Raindrops keep falling on my head!).
“Bloody ‘ell,” I said, “if I’ve got to walk like that…  I’ll need a drink!”
“He was doing the Bistrot!” ... 
… and I thought I’d give my French a try, So I went in this Bistrot… and I said to the girl behind the bar “Bon Soir, Mademoiselle, Un Vin rouge sil vous plait?”
And the Turkish barmaid…  answered me in perfect English, She said “Chicago, hey Mac?”
I said “No, Manchester!” 
And she smiled and said “Bobby Charlton!” (Do the comb-over impression).
And I couldn’t tell if she was taking the piss out of my haircut… or what?
I got one of those Internet deals, the other day, five quid to Italy!… And the car hire thrown in for free!…   I said, “Five quid!… that’s cheaper than staying at home!    I’ll take two!”
When the tickets arrived they were for Venice…  I said the only thing we’ll be driving there is a gondola!
But we went, because we’re daft like that, we’re wet behind the ears… but we like canals!… we go everywhere all the time, if we’re not here, we’re there, and if we’re not there, we’re somewhere else!
So there we were in Venice, taking in the sights, up the Rialto bridge, (Raising my right hand up slowly). And back down all those steps…(Do the Slalom impression)  We went up The grand Canal, (Raising my right hand up slowly). And down all those little side canals… (Do the Slalom impression).
Eventually, I thought we better go for a drink, so I parked the gondola up…         …and  we went into this bar in San Zechariah. The barman was pouring Galliano into a row of glasses on the counter.
He said to me “Pronto! Senora, Harvey Wallbanger! Capisce!”
 I said “No gracie,  Una vino rosso, par favore?”
And he replied, in an American accent…  “Sorry, sir, we donna sella de red vine! … Try the Holts’s pub next door!… ”
I said, ”Bloody hell, I’ve come all the way from flamin’ Manchester… (Raising my hand up slowly) ‘cos they don’t sell it in The friggin’ Claremont, either!” (Doing the Slalom impression).
“Only joking! Mine’s a pint of bitter mate!… with two straws, and a cherry on top!… hold the Sambuca!”
Talking about Yorkshire… It’s not funny,,, but there’s a joke in there somewhere!
I went into that flag shop in Leeds last week, and I said to the fellow behind the bar, “Do you sell, red wine?”
And he said, in a perfect German accent,  “No, ve’re a flag shop, ve sell flags!”
I said, “What about Union Jacks?”
He said, “Vwhat about ‘zem?”
I said, “What colour are they?”
He said, “Zey are red, Vite and blue!… You daft get!”
I said, “Give us a blue one!… and a glass of red wine… and a bottle of white to go!”
Anyway, I better go… ‘cos I’ve got a taxi waiting to take me to the airport… and if that bloke that chained his bike up outside still wants a lift, he better come with me… ‘cos he won’t be riding it home tonight.
I was going up that travelator at Asda the other day, (Raising my right hand up slowly). and this fellow in front of me said that he needed to buy some slip on shoes… because he couldn’t reach to tie his laces anymore!
I said, (Doing the slalom impression)‘Bloody ‘ell that’s nothing! I need slip on socks!’
He said to me “do you know what day Christmas is on?”
I said, “I think it’s a Friday!”
He said “That’s okay, as long as it’s not the thirteenth!”
We were in Ireland in September, and I broke my reading glasses in County Wicklow, and I couldn’t see to read a bloody thing, I sat there in the car, looking at the map, trying to find the cottage we had booked for the week… When a farmer pulled up in his tractor. I asked him if he knew the way to Hollywood?
He said, “You’re going the wrong way, mate! You’ll have to turn round in that field, but watch out for the Leprechaun!”
“Leprechaun? I said, “what does he look like?”
The farmer said, “You’ll recognise him… he’s got a rabbit tattooed on his forehead!”
I said “A rabbit?… Is that so he can see in the dark?”
“No!” said the farmer, “The Leprechaun’s going bald, and a rabbit looks like a hare from a distance!”
I thought, That’s a good idea! … (Scratching my head!)
Talking about tattoo’s, an anagram is a sort of word tattoo…
And two of the biggest brands of the last century were Levi’s jeans and Elvis Presley… Elvis and Levi’s are of course anagrams of each other, and if you think Elvis is dead… You should know that an anagram of, Elvis Aaron Presley is: Seen alive, sorry pal!
And that an anagram of, William Shakespeare is: I am a weakish speller!
And here’s a fishy one for you,  Pere La Chaise, is Hearse Plaice.
And my pen name, Ian Biro is an anagram of Nairobi!
But the best anagram of a persons name belongs to John Marshall who used to run The Buzz Club comedy night, down the road at The Southern Hotel. He called himself Agraman the human anagram! Which of course is an anagram of anagram!!!
If you like anagrams, you might like this.
I was walking past the post office one December morning, and it was the week when everybody got their double giro and the Christmas bonus, so there were two policemen keeping everyone in line, and there was a notice above them that said, Please queue here, with an arrow pointing to the post office sign.
But some bright spark had rearranged the letters, so instead of it  reading: Princess Road Post Office, it now said: (and wait for it, ‘cos this is explosive!) It said: Please queue here, to crap on pissed officers!
Last time I told that story, someone said: ‘You sound like, An angry Adam!’
Which of course is an anagram of Anagram Andy!
Finally!!! I was talking to that robot at the bar before and do you know what he said?
He said: (In a robotic voice) If you fancy our barmaids, DON’T DRIVE HOME!
Which is a good message… but then he got really boring…
He said: (In a robotic voice, again)                                                                                              
Did you ever see those crazy kids at night?                                                               
That cycle on the roads without a light!                                                                            
The way they race along the gutter jumping grids! (Raising my right hand up slowly)
Using the double yellow peril as a track…                                                                 
They’re a nightmare for a driver psycho kids…                                                       
And when they do the downhill… slalom (Do the slalom impression)                 
Along the broken white…                                                                                        
Even Moss Side drivers have a fright!                                                                        
So, watch out for crazy psycho cycle kids tonight!

Friday, December 09, 2011

Song # 704

Dirty ditty
der der dum
dum do
der der
der der der
dum dee do
der der
dum dum
dum der der dee
der do
dirty dirty
ditty der
dee dum dum do
don't d'yo do dat dune