Crappy New Pier

What with having to pull off my Twankey twice a day here at the Neasden Hippodrome, I'm afraid I'm having to rely on my housekeeper posting me the Gazunder to keep up with events on the Ile.

I see from Friday's front page that plans are afoot to transform Margate's harbour arm by building a cafe on the end, and holding a fish market once a month. Artists' studios are also to be built.

It's a little-known fact that many a great artist has been inspired by a heady mix of bacon butties, rotting seaweed and skate trimmings, and it is surely just a matter of time before Margate has a thriving community of Bohemian daubers to rival the likes of Montmartre.

A SEASONAL MESSAGE FROM PRESIDENT RICHARD MILLHOUS NIXON

My Fellow Thanetians,

Since thawing out from cryogenic suspension in a warehouse at Port Ramsgate earlier this year, courtesy of the intermittent nature of your French power supply, I have moved among you as the man you have grown to love and trust, Mr Richard Eastcliff.

However, with the new year approaching, the time has come for me to address you directly about the year that has passed, and the year to come. (Applause.)

I have been greatly saddened by the recent demise of my Vice President and Chief Pardoner, President Gerald Rudolph Ford, but am gratified to learn that a space has been found for him in a spare freezer round the back of Iceland. I look forward with anticipation to the day when we will be able to reminisce about the good times again, and feel sure that, thanks to EDF, that day is fast approaching. (Applause.)

I have presided over many changes on your island over the past twelve months. Neglect, scandal and incompetence have grown, which is good. Yet there are many improvements still to be made. I have personally witnessed people being nice to each other (gasps of shock and disbelief), and there are still far too many beautiful coastal areas which would benefit from a watergate (surely 'waterfront'? - Ed.) style development. (Cries of 'Here, here'.)

It is with a joyous heart, however, that I see our God-given gift of wind is to be harnessed over the coming months and years, and look forward to the benefits that will accrue to my property portfolio on the unblighted south of the island.

2007 will be an election year, and I trust you will be taking the opportunity to re-elect me. I feel certain that you will agree when I say that the prospect of a Thanet without a tremendous great Dick in charge would be a cause of great anxiety among the populace. To that end, I will be keeping my ear to the loudspeaker in order to stay one step ahead of my opponents. (Rapturous applause followed by cries of '90 more years!!')

By the grace of God, and with your support, I am confident that my trusted policies of ignoring your problems, ruining your life, and destroying your future will guarantee my place in history.

May God continue to bless the United States of Thanetia.

Richard M Nixon, President

ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME...

A partridge in a pear tree.

Three Unwise Men

1. Howard McKinnell, outgoing boss of the world's largest drugs company Pfizer. Despite being in charge of the outfit that brought you Viagra, he watched on impotently as the share price drooped 40% during his tenure. Those who were made redundant from our local Pfizer operation in Sandwich this year will no doubt be applauding his $200m pay-off.

2. Whoever commissioned the latest Sudafed TV advert, featuring a man whose nose is so blocked he can barely breath. Turns out he's in a container. Which advertising genius made that link? Containers, suffocation? Don't they read the newspapers in adland? Or maybe they do?

3. Charlie Drake. Unlike the first two, Mr Drake worked very hard at being a professional idiot, and was one of the greatest troopers in the business. Alas, his boomerang will now never be coming back as he's finally said 'Goodbye My Darlings'.

Harbour View

For all those salty seamen amongst you who can't get enough of the briny stuff, Port of Ramsgate have just added a webcam to their site, overlooking the marina.

Presumably it'll capture all those overworked/underpaid, oversexed/underlaid bloggers out there looking for any port in a storm. Ooh blimey, I've just spotted the pilot boat coming in!

Isle Of Sex

Good heavens! I know they've found sewage in the water round here, but now there must be Viagra in the air, given the number of Thanet bloggers currently obsessed with the old jiggy-jig.

Justin Brown never stops, neither does that Oapen woman. Angina talks about little else, but as far as I can tell hasn't got a leg to stand on, and now Lucy Mail's on some kind of non-stop shagathon!

It's at times like this that I thank the Lord that I have the willpower and resilience to conserve my vital British juices for the higher things in life. To that end, I have just taken delivery of a brand new, luxury Scrabble set from Harrods.

The only thing I want to be stiff is my upper lip.

Car-Crushing Councillor At It Again

I see our local, superhero councillor Dave Green has been out and about crushing cars again. This one's off to become baked bean tins for Heinz.

Two of the Netto gnomes were looking on. They later told me that the third gnome had succumbed to a surfeit of White Lightning earlier in the day.

A Fishy Tale

Angela popped over yesterday afternoon with my Christmas present - a splendid DVD of 50s, 60s and 70s promotional films made by Ramsgate Borough Council.

(And one about, ahem, Margate but we won't mention that. Except to say it was presented by Michael Aspel and called 'All Go Margate'. More like 'All Gone Margate' these days.)

Any road, being a bit obsessive over film credits, I happened to notice that the cameraman on most of these seaside epics is a chap with the delightfully appropriate moniker of Ron E. Haddock.

At first I thought it might be a nom de plume. You know, like Alan Smithee, the name conventionally appended as 'director' on Hollywood movies that have turned into such a box of bollocks that the real director has walked out. Or that, this being almost 40 years ago, Mr Haddock might by now have had his chips and gone to meet the great director of photography in the sky.

But no, not a bit of it. After tinkling the old internet ivories, I discovered that Mr Haddock was alive and well as recently as 2004, when he gave a talk to the Borehamwood Camcorder Club.

So in a spirit of briny nostalgia I've emailed the aforementioned club asking for Mr Haddock's contact details, in the hope that I'll be able to bring you an interview with the piscine cinematographer at a later date.

Wind-Win Situation

I see the government has given the go-ahead for the world's largest fart farm in the sea off the Ile de Thanet.

Fortunately only views north of Dumpton Gap will be blighted, whilst at the same time 800 jobs will be created in Thanet's premier megalopolis, Ramsgate. Another victory for common sense!

Chocs Away

I always take great care to ensure that my Christmas presents reflect my standing as one of the country's leading celebrity entertainers and writers.

So every year I send out boxes of Charbonnel Et Walker chocolate truffles to my showbiz pals and business acquaintances. This year, with all this talk of the government shutting post offices, I thought I'd support Postman Patel and his teeny-tiny branch by toddling round there with the last few packages that my PA hadn't dealt with.

"Effing bloody effing government no effing TV licences no effing pensions effing bastards," muttered the great man as he blithely spent the next ten minutes rearranging paperwork behind the counter. He always seems to have something he needs to get off his chest, and as I was the only customer there, I thought it best to indulge him.

To my surprise, however, he continued in his own sweet way as the Royal Mail van man arrived. "Five effing bloody specials," he intoned, as the postman swept towards the door. I barely had time to blurt out: "Am I in time for the collection?" before the fellow had jumped back in his van, and revved off up the road.

Speechless, I was left standing in front of the counter, doing my best goldfish impersonation. But the guardian of the 'heart of the community' was no longer ignorant of my plight, and, as ever, had some crumbs of comfort to offer.

"You should have effing well bloody come earlier," he said, as he returned to shuffling his paperwork.

Blog Up

Smoking source code! Look what happened when I tried to add the newly-revamped Thanet Blog List's badge to my humble jottings! Talk about alphabetti spaghetti! Not only that, but the badge wouldn't link to the list anyway, as there's a typo in the http reference. Unless there's such as thing as the Thaet Blog List, that is.

I approve of the new look, though, and am especially glad to see that the header now features a marvellous shot of the Ile's premier resort. Keep up the good work!

Cock On

I almost choked on the old toast and marmalade this morning, listening to a report about the splendid work the World Health Organisation has done in Africa to establish that circumcision can prevent the transmission of HIV.

Nothing amusing about that, but the spokesman the WHO has, er, put up to discuss this research is none other than a fellow rejoicing in the name of Kevin de Cock.

Honestly. I've said it before and I'll say it again. You go to all this trouble to make stuff up, and then they go and do it all for you!

BBC Circumcision News

The ECR Christmas Quiz

Ho! Ho! Ho! It's Christmas! I always get a bit over-excited when the festive season approaches!

One of the yuletide traditions in the Eastcliff household (after Bertie and I have exchanged presents and scoffed the turkey), is to sit down in front of a blazing fire and test the old noddle with a few brainteasers.

This year, what better way to celebrate than to share our quiz with all you lovely readers? And to make it more interesting, I've based the questions on the events and people that have shaped the Ile in 2006.

So come on, even you lot in Margate can have a go! After all, I'm sure you won't have any difficulty in finding a blazing fire to settle down in front of over there, will you?

January
Which local politician was quoted as saying he wanted to put the 'wow! factor' back into Thanet?

A: Animal-loving Sir Roger Wind
B: Ferrari-loving Dr Steve Ladyboy
C: Garlic-hating Councillor Sandy Beach

Answer

February
What came onshore in Margate?

A: 40,000 tons of rotting seaweed
B: The Anthea Turner Centre
C: 12 pallets of Primark undies

Answer

March
New plans are announced to 'fill Dreamland with rides for the summer'. Who made this promise?

A: One of the local madams
B: Margate sponsors Bryant and May
C: One-Eyed Pete the carny guy

Answer

April
Who unexpectedly withdrew his column?

A: Sir Roger Wind
B: Lord Nelson
C: Long Dong Silver

Answer

May
Who was photographed playing with some balls on Broadstairs beach?

A: Graham Norton
B: David Beckham
C: Councillor Jeff Kirkpatrick

Answer

June
Thanet District Council launched its 'Thanet Is Beautiful' campaign by attaching banners to local beauty spots. To what did they attach their banner in Ramsgate?

A: Dolly Parton impersonator Mandy Winters
B: The 'temporary' fencing along the crumbling East Cliff
C: The world famous Granville Theatre

Answer

July

Our ruggedly handsome council leader was spotted out and about, but who won my competition to find a caption for this photograph?

A: Dane Valley Ted with: "And may I thank Victoria Beckham for extending the hand of friendship to the people of Thanet."
B: Snailspace with: "Will someone please tell Iris to get off of that broom and walk. This is a pedestrian zone dontchaknow."
C: Ram Skate Raider (sniff) with: "Unleashed, it sticks out this far."

Answer

August
Revolution was in the air as the Thanet Community Development Trust decided to up the rent on one of the few places in the area where teenagers could still have a good time without unwanted pregnancy. But what is Thanet Community Development Trust?

A: A charity
B: A company
C: A charitable company

Answer

September
BBC Radio Kent broadcast an item about blogging in the county. Someone who sounded a bit like me was featured, but the voice had been altered. What did it sound like?

A: HAL the computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey
B: Pinky and/or Perky
C: Norman Wisdom

Answer

October
Scientists discover that anti-fouling paint on the bottom of luxury yachts in Ramsgate's Royal Harbour is causing whelk penises to shrink. What name did they give to this phenomenon?

A: Dumpton Syndrome
B: Dumped On Syndrome
C: Big Yacht Syndrome

Answer

November
Thanet planning chiefs were rapped for mistakenly saying a three storey building would only be two storeys high. What else have the planning department got wrong?

A: The Turnip Centre
B: Dreamland
C: Just about everything

Answer

December
A local celebrity claimed to have become engaged to charming new blogger Frances Oapen, but was later discovered to have gone off half cock. Who was the blushing, would-be bridegroom?

A: High-flying doctor of somethingology Simon Moores
B: Fun-loving doctor of laughology Richard Eastcliff
C: Bum-loving doctor of proctology Justin Brown

Answer

Bonus Question!
Which local councillor was secretly filmed during the year expressing a surprisingly musical side to his personality?

Answer

So how did you do?

0 - 4 correct answers - Michael Barrymore
5 - 8 correct answers - Dale Winton
9 - 12 correct answers - Jonathon Ross
13 correct answers - Me!!!!

And if you've still got an appetite for quizzes after all that, I can thoroughly recommend the new Prince of Wales Quiz Book by Marcus Berkmann, available at all good stockists price £12.99.

And thanks for the case of Krug, Mr B!

Lost For Words

This isn't something you'll hear me say very often, but, well, I'm lost for words.

I'll just have to go back to tinkering with my Widow Twankey in front of the mirror again, I suppose.

Frannie Closed

I see that delightful, thrusting young property executive Frances Oapen is closing her blog due to some unwanted attention.

Nothing to do with me, I hasten to add. Despite the recent upset, I'd still be happy for her to come round and take my measurements.

KCC TV!

Shuffling through the small ads in the back of the trade papers this afternoon, I came across an invitation to tender from Kent County Council.

They're looking for a company to run their new broadband TV service for two years from autumn 2007. A quick call to my chum at the council revealed that they've already put together a tentative schedule for a typical evening's viewing:

6pm - Maidstone at Six. That Ruddy-Faced Man From The Council rounds up the latest from the county's capital. Followed by weather.

6.30pm - Tunbridge Swells. Fly-on-the-wall documentary following young rich kids living the high life in Kent's swinging second city.

7pm - Seasiders. Soap. James and Angela Heatherington-Smith have relocated from London to Whitstable, only to find they are allergic to oysters. Starring Janet Street-Porter, Sir Bob Geldoff and Peter Cushing as Uncle Fester.

7.30pm - It's Grim Out East. Gritty drama about a low income family living in, er, what's that place called again? Sort of beyond Canterbury. Right on the end. Just before you get to France and all the cheap booze and ciggies. Anyway, starring Brenda Blethyn and Timothy Spall (hopefully).

8.30pm - Canterbury Tails. Documentary tracks the trials and tribulations of a country vetinary practice based in the Stour Valley.

9pm - Strictly Kent Dancing. Veteran entertainer Bruce Sandy-Lockhart is joined by glamorous Anthea Turner-Centre and a host of other stars from the Assembly Halls in trendy Tunbridge Wells.

10pm - Grand Designs. Documentary detailing the amazing story of how £7m was spent transforming a pile of mud and seaweed off the Kent coast into an entire stable of Bentleys and Ferraris for anyone quick enough to grab a slice (shurely shome mishtake - Channel Controller).

11pm - Camera, Action, But No Police! Some of the best shots from speed and traffic cameras around the county. Hilarious!

11.30pm - News, weather.

11.57pm - Lights out (aren't they always?)

11.58pm - Close down.

11.59pm - Rates up.

The Gazunder Blog of the Year Awards

The 2006 Blog of the Year Awards, sponsored by the Isle of Thanet Gazunder, will be bigger than ever!

But our host will be the smallest yet!

Yes, tiny Ronnie Corbett, who runs an even tinier kiosk on Ramsgate's East Cliff, has agreed to MC the glittering bash at the town's world famous Granville Theatre.

And what a star-studded occasion it's going to be!

Entertainment will be provided by chart topping (tribute) boy band Fake That!! And comedy fans will be over the moon to hear that local wag and politician Sandy Beach will be treating us to one of his witty monologues!

It's been the year of the blog in Thanet, and now we want to find the Blog of the Year! Is it small but perfectly formed Dane Valley Ted? Or has Lucy Mail 'hogged' the limelight with her Ramsgate Tourettes? Or you may prefer a Man Eating Sausage In Wenceslas Square.

Do newcomers like Frances Oapen and Justin Brown float your boat? Or do you hanker for the old timers like Arts And Elbows, Snailspace, Little Weed, Nethercourt Notes, Eastcliff Matters and Thanet Life? Or the very old timers like The Angina Monologues?

Remember, it's the readers' choice, so get voting now and you could be in with a chance to win two pairs of tickets (retail value £120) to the fabulous Gazunder Blog of the Year Awards in January.

Entry is simple. Just jot down on a postcard why you think Eastcliff Richard's blog is best and send it to:

Blog of the Year 2006
Isle of Thanet Gazunder
Gazunder Buildings
Victoria Parade
Ramsgate
Kent

And don't forget to include your name and contact details.

Old Eastcliff's Almanac

Well, it's the time of year when everyone makes predictions for the next twelve months and who am I to buck the trend? Besides, I once stepped out with the daughter of a woman who used to read palms at the end of the pier, so I'm practically Nostradamus. Here goes:

January
The New Year will bring much peace and happiness to the Ile de Thanet, especially the south. Beware, though, of a man coming from the west wearing wellington boots, for he will bring much mud.

February
February will be a short month, and may even end after just 28 days. A millionaire celebrity from the beautiful south of the Ile will be relaxing on holiday as a guest of Sir Richard Branston.

March
An extremely attractive and wealthy man will arrive back in Ramsgate from an island somewhere in the Pacific. This man should be greeted by everyone on the Ile with the happy sound of laughter and singing.

April
Easter will be in this month, or possibly March. Who knows? Why can't they just make it the 25th of December like everything else?

May
Votes will be cast by the inhabitants of the Ile to elect a new chieftain. His name will be heard by an old hag holding a sea shell to her ear the Wednesday before.

June
Unwise men will appear in the north of the Ile promising car parks, luxury apartments, and a shed out the back for an arts centre. Do not listen to them. Men and women in Boredstares will dress in Victorian bathing costumes and address each other as 'Roger' for an entire week.

July
Everyone will bugger off on holiday, but not to Margate, where most of what's left will burn down.

August
Ramsgate will gain Unesco World Heritage status this month after Canterbury is demoted to the bottom of the Vauxhall Conference League.

September
A millionaire superstar who resides somewhere on the Ile in a place whose name begins with the letter 'R' will be acclaimed and lauded, for it will be his birthday.

October
Bloody hell, how many more months are there?

November
Fierce winds will blow all buildings to the north of Dumpton Gap into the sea.

December
A wise man with much foresight and knowledge will write another load of old cods just like this.

Phew! Made it! Now, where did I put that G&T?

Road Rage

Call me a boring old sausage, but really!

As you all know, I am by nature a kind-hearted, warm and generous soul, but when my daily quota of helping frail old ladies cross the road rises to double digits, even my relatively cool claret begins to boil!

We're told that the current roadworks on Victoria Parade, causing cars to back up as far as Eastbourne, are aimed at enhancing road safety, and about time too. What it really needs, though, is a pedestrian crossing, but by the time we get one I'll be a frail old man being helped across the road by (hopefully) charming and attractive young ladies.

Meanwhile the measures that have already been taken to lessen the dangers at the junctions that lead off Victoria Parade, like these double yellow lines, aren't being enforced. I can't remember ever seeing a traffic warden, or indeed any no parking signs, so naturally people can, and will, get away with it. Is anyone at Kent Highways listening? Or are they too busy fancifying Tunbridge Wells?

By the way, I've disguised the vehicle in the photo as I have absolutely no desire to be dubbed a copper's nark, and besides, it's not his/her fault anyway.

On second thoughts, maybe I'll make one of those number plates for the TT!

Blond Is Back!

What a terrific 007 that dashing young Daniel Craig makes. If you're prepared to ignore the mousy hair and FA Cup ears, that is.

I trundled down to our Granville Megaplex (2 screens) last night, hoping not to be the last person on the planet to see Casino Royale. I wasn't disappointed, as it appeared that the vast majority of the pit bull-tugging, smelly socks brigade hadn't seen it either. Although it rather shattered the dramatic illusion when some charmless oik bawled out during the obligatory love scene: "GO ON SON, STICK YOUR TONGUE IN."

Bit of a shame, too, that John Cleese's splendid 'Q' has been replaced by a Mr Sony, with Viagro laptops and Sony Ericsson mobiles in virtually every shot. In fact there was so much product placement that, not content with just plastering Virgin Atlantic all over the screen, they had to crowbar Sir Richard Branston into the film as well.

Still, having watched Bondie get his danglers tenderised with a knotted hawser, I was well prepared for the short walk home, during which I was accosted by another band of track-suiters with the cheery salutation: "GEEZER! GEEEEZER! GO' ANY RIZLAAARS?!?!"

Oh well, if you can't beat them, join them. I'm off to get my Brosnan pierced.

Dreadful Wind

Woken up this morning by atrocious wind, I decided to toddle down to the prom and take a squiz at the old briny.

Standing on roughly the spot where 430 luxury apartments and 3 five star hotels are going to be built, this was the view. Apart from the spray, the sand was whipping across so fast I was fearful that, without the protection of my Barbour Beaufort, I was at imminent risk of being flayed alive.

Still, not as bad as the wind my old showbiz pal Barrymore woke up with this morning, I bet.

An Oapen Letter To Frances

Cliff Top Mansion
Victoria Parade
Ramsgate
Kent

Dear Ms Oapen,

I feel I must apologise for the way I jumped the gun the other day and announced our impending nuptials. It was rash and silly of me, and I was motivated purely by self interest. I admit now that I faked the photograph of us together, and that I have never met you in person. All talk of a fairytale wedding was entirely the product of my fevered and rather over-active imagination.

If you have it in your heart to forgive me, I'm certain that we could have a friendly and purely platonic blogging relationship going forward, and to that effect I have added your blog to my list of 'local millionaires'.

Who knows, we could even become pals, and I'd be delighted if, at some stage in the future, you would handle my rather substantial portfolio bugger I think I've blown it again.

Yours sincerely,

Richard Eastcliff

Ramsgate Woman Claims She Was 'Stalked' By Celebrity

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder Reporter

Local millionaire celebrity Mr Richard Eastcliff has apologised to a Ramsgate woman he said he was going to marry, after she dubbed him a 'stalker' and a 'freak'.

The woman, gorgeous 30 hum-ti-tum estate agent Frances Oapen, described Mr Eastcliff as 'a sad freak' and 'a little pr*ck' on her website, Franorama, adding that she would 'tear him a new A hole'.

According to the charming and delightful Ms Oapen, she had only agreed to go to dinner with Ramsgate's foremost entertainer and writer, and that nothing had been said about an engagement.

Mr Eastcliff has now apologised to the lovely Ms Oapen, admitting that he 'might have gone off half cock', and has invited her to a slap-up candlelit dinner to make amends.

Millionaire Celebrity To Wed Ramsgate Woman

Isle of Thanet Gazunder World Exclusive

Local celebrity millionaire Mr Richard Eastcliff has announced his engagement to a Ramsgate woman. The mystery bride-to-be is 30 hum-ti-tum estate agent Frances Oapen.

The couple, who are set to be the toast of Thanet, met on the internet. A delighted Mr Eastcliff told The Gazunder: 'It was love at first byte. When I saw Frances had started a new blog, I just couldn't resist getting in touch with her.'

He continued: 'I popped the question over the weekend, and I'm happy to say she readily accepted the invitation to be my gorgeous new beard, er bride.' Ms Oapen was unavailable for interview as the Gazunder went to press.

The couple are now believed to be planning a fairytale wedding somewhere in the South of France. Bidding for the exclusive rights to cover the nuptials is expected to start at upwards of £1m. (All offers to Mr R. Eastcliff, Cliff Top Mansion, Victoria Parade, Ramsgate, Kent)

Dire Rear

Well that's the last time I spend a long weekend binging on champagne and exotic food. Talk about a burning ring of fire.

Ooops, must dash, I think the world's about to drop out of my bottom again.

Heston's Services

Off to the country for an extended weekend with my cookery chum Heston Bloominhell, so I'll be off air for a few days.

I'm hoping that a few hearty suppers of slug bladder paté in a bat urine jus will recharge the batteries and restore the old Eastcliff constitution.

If that doesn't do the trick I'll just have to resort to a £500 a day cocaine and vodka habit like the rest of my showbiz colleagues. The pressure, darling, the pressure.

Art Attack

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder Handyman Barry Chuckle

People often ask me: "Barry, I'm thinking of building a large art gallery in the North Sea. Do you have any tips?"

First thing to do is get your tools together. For a job this size I'd recommend at least a power screwdriver, and, of course, your underwater breathing apparatus (Netto do an own-brand aqualung at £9.99). Don't forget to source some rustproof six inch nails from your local DIY store. A tide table might also come in handy.

Once you've drawn up your plans (Snohetta's have some good ones at £7m), it's just a matter of putting in some piling to a depth of 45 metres, and you're away! Oh, and don't forget to buy some paintings for when it's finished (Woolworths do some terrific Jack Vettrianos at £19.95).

And remember my golden DIY rule: If it ain't broke, you haven't fixed it!

One In A Million

Can't say too much about this, but there's a point in every millionaire celebrity's life when his thoughts turn to fairytale castles, hoards of paparazzi, and selling the photo rights to OK for a million smackeroos.

Then there's the publicity from naming your children Dasher, Dancer, Donna, Blitzen, Comet, Cupid, Prancer, and Vixen.

Oh dear, I think I might be giving too much away. Best to keep schtum for now.

Cop Out

How was I to know he was a Chief Superintendent out shopping for lingerie on a day off? And Fat Kev was only doing his duty by flattening him when he got a bit shirty.

Philthy Rich? It's turning out ot be more like Police, Camera, Traction!

Philming Update

Off to shoot another hilarious episode of 'Philthy Rich' this afternoon. I'm not sure I'm coming across 100% in the role of Miltiades Papanikoiaou, Manager of the Human Recourses department of Athens Financial Group ltd and give me all your bank account details please thank you.

Still, at least they've let me bring along my security consultant (Fat Kev) this afternoon. I've a feeling I'm going to need him.

Nobby News

I see my old pal Nobby Stewart has been elevated to the giddy heights of permanent anchor on ITV's Lunchtime News, following the departure of Nicholas Owen to BBC News 24.

I recall being in the green room after guesting on his programme once, and hearing the diminutive Gnews Gnome ask another guest, an eminent medical chap, if it was possible to get AIDS from a blow job. Nicholas Owen, on the other hand, would never have dreamed of being so inquisitive, preferring to spend most of his spare time trainspotting.

Quite reminiscent of the old days, when Martin Lewis defected from ITV to the BBC, and ITV hit back by poaching Julia Somerville in what was forever thereafter referred to as a 'tit for tat' exchange.

Eastcliffy Circus

Flaming Nora, the old East Cliff is a hive of activity this morning!

They're improving the junction by the Granville 'Theatre Cinem', and traffic will apparently be backed up all the way to Hastings for the next 14 weeks!

One poor chap had clearly had enough, and decided to use our super-duper new out-of-this-world international rock and pop venue (aka The Eastcliff Bandstand) as a roundabout:


Oh yes, it's all go here on the East Cliff. Hedges are being trimmed by the council, and the developers of The Granville have reinstated their sign:


Even the steroid-enhanced KFC gulls have decided today's the day to pick off a small boat.

Ye Cannae Change The Laws Of Physics

Except on the Ile de Thanet, of course. The headline on the front page of the latest edition of 'Thanet Matters', our local council's free, er, magazine, trumpets: Preserving Our Area - Conservation In Action.

In fact lots of things here on Ramsgate's East Cliff have been preserved for quite some time now thanks to conservation inaction, and the peculiar laws of quantum mechanics that apply on Uranus.

LAW 1: WHAT GOES UP NEVER COMES DOWN


Scaffolding in Augusta Road. Been there for the best part of a year.

LAW 2: WHAT COMES DOWN NEVER GOES UP


Pleasurama. Burnt down seven years ago.


The Granville. Partly rebuilt a while back, but not this bit which, according to planning permission granted years ago, should look like this by now:


LAW 3: WHAT GOES UP KEEPS GOING UP AND UP


Temporary fencing on our crumbling cliff top. Been there for almost two years, and more keeps going up every week.

LAW 4: WHAT GOES UP SOMETIMES COMES DOWN AFTER A FEW WEEKS


October 2006 - the developer's sign goes up.


November 2006 - the developer's sign comes down.

LAW 5: AND SOME THINGS DON'T GO UP OR DOWN


'Nuff said.

Cruising

Well if it's good enough for that fellow who starred in that Top Gear film, it's good enough for me. I've decided I'm going to have my own fairytale wedding. Besides, the publicity won't do me any harm.

Now all I need is a suitable bride. Anyone out there prepared to take my ever-so-slightly camp image away?

Asbo You Like It

Tottering through those rather dingy back streets last night after an evening of charity fundraising for Gaddfathers In Need, I realised I'd unwittingly strayed into the new East Cliff No Bozo Asbo Zone.

Apparently the area is now under martial law, with armed rozzers ready to shoot on sight any unruly gathering of two or more people. Realising that, despite being on my tod, I could nevertheless still be construed as 'an unruly gathering' by Her Majesty's Finest, I scuttled along, hoping to vacate the area unnoticed.

So imagine my dismay when, rounding a corner, I came across an unruly gathering of Peelers. They gave me the once-over as I shuffled past, but thankfully they seemed to be preoccupied with deciding which of the three of them was going to arrest the other two.

Doing The Hokey-Pokey

I see that some of the local residents around here are complaining that our super-duper new out-of-this-world international rock and pop venue (aka The Eastcliff Bandstand) has been the scene of some 'dirty dancing' recently.

Apparently young couples have been spotted in the dead of night doing more than just the conga, if you catch my drift, and outraged Eastcliffers are now demanding that something is done about it. They claim that such activites are being encouraged by the garish new lighting system.

Well, it works for moths I suppose.

Bikenews Margate

I see Man Eating Sausage In Wenceslas Square has got himself into a spot of bother with some Hell's Angels. The language!

Well what do you expect if you insist on hooning down the M2 at 100mph in a Transit van, concentrating more on your pie/hole interface than the other road users around you? Really Tony!

I often get my old throbber out and give it a thrash in the sun. I've offered to take Tony around the Ile on the back, to give him the two-wheeled perspective on things, but for some reason he's declined.

Perhaps he's studied a pie chart and seen how risky it is.

Goaled 'n Brown

Aaaah! That's better. I can feel the colour returning to my cheeks already.

And just in time - I'm expecting several coachloads of footie fans to arrive any minute. Apparently, that famous radio presenter from Margate who now lives in London has added a link on some Margate FC forum to my Sandy Raps video.

Now, what should I wear when I meet Becks?

Hacked Off

Blogging hell! Have you seen what's happened to my humble jottings? They look like they've had a makeover from some hippy on an LCD trip. I've been racking my brains and come up with three theories:

A: It's the work of those dark forces on the Ile who would be happy to see me relocate to Great Yarmouth.

B: Dr Biggles has finally cracked my password, and in a fit of maniacal rage crashed his teeny-tiny plane into my gubbins.

C: I was fiddling with my blog settings and twiddled the wrong knob.

I'm not paranoid (although I know for definite there's someone who thinks I am), but I reckon we can reasonably discount option C.

Good job Laurence gave me his number at that Changing Rooms wake a couple of years ago. If only I could find the bit of paper he wrote it on.

Council Leader Takes To The Rap

Lumme! I've got an old chum who works at one of those media training companies, and he's sneaked me a peak at some video work they did with our local council recently.

I didn't know Sandy had it in him!

Gone Philming

Phew! Feeling less groggy today, which is a good thing, as I'll need my wits about me for the new show I'm shooting this week for one of the, um, cable channels.

It's called 'Philthy Rich!', and the hilarious idea is that I'm secretly filmed in shopping malls and high streets trying to con members of the public into parting with their hard earned mazonga. Sort of like those internet phishing scams that keep popping up in my email.

I did express a concern that I might not be the best person for the job, as I'm bound to be recognised. But the producer said they couldn't afford Davro, and then made some off-colour remark about me not even getting recognised if I was chucking £50 notes off the top of Nelson's Column dressed in nothing but my birthday suit.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Wino Blog

Eurgh! My head! That Dr McJobby turned out to be a bit of raver. After our Channel 4 meeting, she took me on to her juice bar, and things just snowballed from there.

Where's the Alka-Seltzer?

We apologise for the interruption to our scheduled programmes. This is due to a fault on our Ramsgate transmitter. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

In the meantime, here is some music.

Firming Up My Next Job

Just finished lunch with that Dr Gillian McJobby woman, here in the busy cyber caff at Channel 4. We've discussed the finer points of the show, and now she's nipped off to the ladies.

She's asked me to keep a stool free, but I'm not sure how long I can hang onto it.

What Shall We Do With A Drunken German?

While away the office tedium, that's what!

My old chum Scottie, that chap with the dilithium crystals in his Reg Grundies, has sent me a link to a splendid game, in which you're required to keep a drunk German upright on his late night trek home from the bar for as long as possible. Just move your mouse from left to right, and you'll soon get the hang of it. Or not, as the case may be. The furthest I got was 59 metres, perhaps it helps to be drunk when you play it.

I was tempted to refer to it as the 'Lucy Mail Simulator', given all her alcohol-fuelled antics over on Ramsgate Tourettes. But then I realised she hasn't got a beard.

Well, not as far as I know.

Turner Centre Required Massive Piles

More news about that Turnip Centre those chaps from the council wanted to erect in the, er, mud off the Arsonists' Playground.

According to Kent Online, who have managed to get hold of a copy of the report into the 'Turnip Offshore' debacle, the thing would have needed 45 metre piles just to avoid being blown over by a strong puff of wind!

Now I'm sure I could come up with a joke that involved the words 'wind', 'piles', and 'art'. But you'll have to pay me £8m first.

Crappy Christmas

I'm thinking of bringing out one of those cheap and cheerful Christmas books, so yesterday I had a shufti around W H Smith to get a feel for the competition.

I must say, I was shocked at the number of titles incorporating the S-word. In addition to the above work of literary genius, you could also fill your Auntie Doris's stocking with Old Shite's Almanac, I'm Dreaming Of A Shite Christmas, and How To Shit Around The World.

Assuming your Auntie Doris is compos mentis and hasn't done all the stocking filling herself, that is.

Des-olated

I'll have to call Jack Barclay again and cancel that Bentley order. I've just heard that Des O'Flipping Connor has pipped me to the post for Countdown. If I'd known they wanted another Des, I'd have changed my name to Des Res.

Property News

Yippee! My cliff top mansion has increased in value by 15%, and I've only been in Ramsgate a year! I think I'll re-mortgage and buy a Bentley!

Back In The U$$R

Yikes! I missed out on a bit of a treat in Amsterdam last month, The Millionaire Fair 2006.

One of my commentators, a Mr Milo Sovich, has pointed me in the direction of the Fair's website. Organised by Russkies, the blurb spells out who it's aimed at:

The target audience is consumers of the high-end luxury segment, VIP’s, the political, administrative, business and cultural elite.

Sounds like my kind of thing. What could I have seen there?

For four days all odors of luxury lifestyle was able to see and buy the best the international luxury industry has to offer.

All odors, eh? Well I'm a big cheese. But what I'm really after is a squire meter.

In compare with last year Millionaire Fair becomes twice bigger, as for quantity of participants as well for squire meters.

No worries on that score, then. Must book ahead for next year!

Eamonn Low

Look, I'm not normally one to gloat about a fellow celeb's bad luck, but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Remember I auditioned for a new game show back in March, The Rich List? Eventually I lost out to TBA Noel. Later, though, he said he was too busy shifting some boxes to take up the offer, and so it was passed to Eamonn Holmes.

Now the trade papers are reporting that The Rich List has been pulled by Fox in the US after just one show! That's a whole 60 minutes of US fame for our Eamonn! Eamonn's no Sherlock, I can tell you, but even he must be getting the message that he's not wanted.

Meanwhile, ABC have beamed up William Shatner for a new, blockbuster, primetime game show. I wish Bill the best of luck, you need a lot of bottle for these big money bunfights.

Hopefully, though, the captain's log has got a lot firmer since he did those All-Bran commercials.

Cigar Butts And Butt Cigars

Stuck here in my domicile at 'the edge of teh known world', I've been feeling increasingly less important. I suppose it would be different if I lived near a throbbing metropolis like, say, Birchington.

So to puff myself up a bit, I spent yesterday at the old pied-a-tèrre in Chelsea. It's just a small terrace on Cheyne Walk, nothing too flash. I've been renting it to a producer pal of mine, who made the odd bob or two out of some game show. Entangled in a few domestic difficulties recently (= ran off with the production co-ordinator), he needed a bolt hole.

He's moved out now, but cripes, the way he's left it! Beer bottles, old Havana cigars, and as for the state of the dunny. Well, I've heard of roll your own, but that's taking it a bit too far.

I'll have to call in those cleaning ladies from Channel 4.

Things That Go 'F' In The Night

You know me, I'm all for 24 hour cafe culture, but the number of times I'm woken up in the middle of the night by people shouting and swearing since the licensing laws were changed is definitely on the rise.

The last thing I want to know at four in the morning is that somebody's 'effing mother is effing pregnant again and in effing prison for effing knifing someone'. Really!

Bit Of A Fizzer

The Broadstairs fireworks display tonight was a bit of a fizzer. Not least because it's tomorrow night.

Like most of the large crowd standing around listlessly on Preacher's Knoll this evening, Angela and I had read in the local papers that tonight was the night.

A serious case of Boredstares all round.

EDF Off

Those garlic-munching muppéts at EDF blew another fuse this afternoon. Now I'll have to set the clock on the blinking Bang and Oluffsen.

It's sabotage, I tell you. They just can't bear the thought of Ramsgate being more chic than Cannes!

Apartment-heid

Flaming bungalows! That Gazunder reporter must be a rampant leftie or something! What does he mean, deriding our local planning department like that?

As one of the pillars of the regeneration community, I'll have you know that I've had many successful dealings with Plan-It Thanet.

They're especially good when it comes to understanding the needs of your average property developer, and helping out with all those awkward rules and regulations that seem to get in the way these days. Like having to incorporate a 'social housing' (yurgh!) element into your luxury block.

For example, I've got my eye on this little number in Cliftonville:


A snip at £5.6m. What do the agents say?

We our privileged to be offering this prime residential site for re-development. Located on the seafront in Cliftonville, Margate, where, the wider regeneration story is attracting extensive inward investment to the area.

Sounds great! Sea views, and there's planning permission to knock it all down and bung up 140 luxury apartments! But what about that troublesome 'social housing' (yurgh!) element? No worries:

The planning consent includes an approved 106 agreement, which confirms the social housing element of the consent as 19 apartments, which are all located off seafront position.

So the oiks have to sit in the cheap seats! Hurrah!

I expect those nice Paigle people who did up the Sea Bathing Hospital will get something like that written into their planning consent for the Lido.

And I have to applaud our glorious council leader Sandy Beach taking a firm stance, during his recent interview about Ramsgate's new Pleasurama development with BBC South East News. Asked whether it would include a social housing (yurgh!) element, his response was: 'We are building social housing, but not here.' At which point he gestured vaguely in the direction of Westwood.

Still, there are some nice views to be had at Westwood. I hear the sun setting over Wickes is very Turner-esque. Plus, if you get inspired, you don't have to go too far for the paint!

New Measures Ordered By Council Planning Chiefs

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder Staff

Stationers and DIY stores across Thanet have reported a rush on rulers and tape measures after bungling council experts were fined for saying a three storey building would only be two storeys high.

The knob-knuckled bureaucrats have already been described as one of the worst planning departments in the country. Now they stand accused of not knowing their roof from their basement.

Other developments which are thought to have been affected by oversize oversights are:

• Pleasurama development. Planners say that the new, £200m development of 1400 luxury apartments and five luxury hotels will be no higher than the crumbling East Cliff, but a source told the Gazunder that he'd seen drawings which 'made the Empire State Building look like a kiosk'.

• Turner Centre. Far from coming 'onshore', according to the Gazunder's source plans drafted by the department show it covering much of the Thames Estuary.

• Dreamland. Again, our source says that the council's planners have included huge new rides and attractions to rival the likes of Disney World! Shurely shome mishtake - Ed.

Christmas - It's Great!

by Thanet SadScene staff

Yes, your super, soaraway SadScene's got everything wrapped up for Christmas in Thanet!!!

So if you're looking for great gift ideas, festive family fun, or something a bit different, we've saved you the bother of shopping around!

GET PLASTERED
Christmas is a time for inviting friends and family into your home. But they won't feel at ease if the plaster's hanging off the wall. Call Wantsum Walls on 01843 777777.

OLD BOILER
What could be worse than cold turkey on Christmas Day? And with the winter weather here, now's the time to service that old boiler in the kitchen. Call ThanetGas on 01843 888888.

DECKING THE HALLS
The holly's up, the Christmas lights are working, but there's something missing. A patio! No Yuletide is complete without one! Call Slab-O-Rama on 01843 999999.

HAIL TO THE BEEF!
Get your glad rags on for Christmas! Don't miss out on Asda's new range of snug fit, £5 leggings for the larger woman. George 'W-bush' range available at all local stores.

Are you sure about that last one? Ed.

Rocket Science

Angela calls to say she'll be down at the weekend, and would I like to go to a bonfire party?

"Of course," I say. "I like to let one off at least once a year."

"Where shall we go, then?"

Hmmm. Apparently she'd like me to take her to an organised display. Trouble is, being new to the area, I'm not sure which would be the best, and I don't fancy schlepping all the way to Edenbridge to see that portly chap from Channel 4 Racing fry.

Must do a bit of research. Where to start? What about the council website? Nope. Nada. Maybe fireworks and Uranus don't mix.

Noel Show

One thing I'm certainly not doing tonight is watching my old chum Sir Trev hand out those rather ornate ear trumpets at the National Television Awards on ITV1.

The show was taped last night, my ticket must have somehow been lost in the post. Good job too, as TBA Noel picked up a gong for Best Daytime TV Show, although he wasn't there to collect it personally (thus saving many of the audience from having to re-acquaint themselves with their dinners).

But I have made a date to watch Madonna's first BBC interview since adopting a child from Malawi on Newsnight later. I've seen the previews, and she seems to be hell-bent on parading her black roots. The state of her hair!

See View

As part of my campaign to generate better publicity for the north of the Ile, and to avoid enforced relocation to a much smaller property six feet under the Sandwich by-pass, I've decided to invest in a pair of Ben Sherman 'Margate' sunglasses.

They're a snip at $175, and come in four colours - Tortoise Shell, Black, Check, and, er, Dog. There's a range of lenses too. I'm opting for the rose-tinted.

Name Game

The quest for famous Thanetonians continues. So far there's been some pretty good suggestions, along with one or two ho-hums.

Pursuing my obsessions on the internet just now, I came across this fellow on the Internet Movie Database. Do you think we should make him an honorary member?

Jingle Bells, Batman Smells

As usual at this time of year I'm inundated with work, spoilt for choice, cup runneth over, etc.

So far, Bev, my agent, has me pencilled for Widow Twankey at the Neasden Hippodrome, as I can't say I'm really tempted by the other offer, to take part in a revival of Celebrity Squares for Nigerian TV.

There's also a possibility of appearing in costume in a Yuletide capacity at the Hempstead Valley Retail Park. I've looked it up on the web, but it doesn't sound too savoury, judging by the history section:

Village ‘characters’ abounded in Hempstead. There was John Hoare, a toothless, one eyed old manned, dressed summer or winter in a dark felt hat and raincoat. He lived in a little wooden hut in a cherry orchard. Then there was Dirty Gert, who lived in a dolls house-sized one bedroom bungalow and produced a new baby every year.

Yikes! If I was into that kind of thing, I'd be better off applying for the job of Margate Town Sergeant!

Having A Quick Rank

One of my commentators has been less than glowing about the desirability of living in Thanet. And one of my detractors has described the Ile as 'at the edge of teh known world.'

So to redress the balance, and assuage those people with the baseball bats who insist I'm bad for Ile's image, I've ranked the ten greatest living Thanetonians. Here they are in order:

1. Me (of course)
2. CutieMish
3. Brenda Blethyn
4. Brenda Blethyn's Mum
5. Timothy Spall (often spotted eating ham and cheese sandwiches in Margate)
6. Ray Winstone (always banging on about Margate) (and breakfast cereals)
7. Tracey Eminem (Head Bedhead and Liver Whittler)
8. Ronnie Corbett (runs kiosk on East Cliff)
9. The Fat Bloke From Bad Manners
10. Kate Moss's Daughter's Grandparents
11. Barmy Army Chief Sir Richard Donut (went to school in Ramsgate)
12. Former Met Head Sir John Stevens (also went to school in Ramsgate)
13. Tom Hanks (not 100% about this one)

Blimey, I've excelled myself. Although maybe I've scraped the barrel a bit with one or two of them.

Of course, a quick stroll around the graveyard exhumes yet more alumni:

Charles Dickens
The Plug-ins (Ralph and Nigel)
B.M.W Turner (custom paint jobs)
Ted Heath
Frank Muir
Karl Marx (came here to cure his boils)
Mr Pfizer (came here to boil his cures)
Queen Victoria
Arthur Lowe
John Le Measurier
Eric Morecambe (got married in Margate)
Ronnie Biggs (came to Margate for the smell)

On second thoughts, I don't think the last one's croaked yet. Sorry Ronnie. (Cripes, I think I'm in deeper trouble now. Where's Fat Kev when you need him?)

Pick-A-Dicky Circus

The Gazunder's Smudger reports the recent contretemps between myself and Dr Morose, and ends by saying 'presumably it has nothing to do with the rather coarse description ('Steaming Great Tw*t' ©2006 Ram Skate Raider) of Dr Moores which was carried on the front page of the Eastcliff Matters blog for some time.'

Eastcliff Matters? Eastcliff Matters?? Either Smudger's conducting a fishing expedition to catch the real me, or it's a Freudian slip, and they've actually convinced themselves I'm the viridescent one!

I don't think Councillor G would be too happy with that.

By the way, where have the councillor's links to other Thanet bloggers gone? And he hasn't commented on anyone else's blog for weeks. Do you think he's been got at again by the council's self-appointed censor? I think we should be told.

Teenage Kicks

Kuh! I don't know, it seems anyone can be a celebrity these days. Thanks to something called 'YouTube', even teenage Thanetonians are getting in on the act.

CutieMish, an 18 year old schoolgirl from Ramsgate, has had more than 4,000,000 viewings for her short clips featuring such exciting plot lines as 'CutieMish plays the theme from Tetris badly on an out of tune piano' and 'CutieMish reads out a list of words'.

It's all very innocent in a coquettish kind of way, but I'm sure the minx knows what she's doing. Judging by the comments you can almost hear the sound of Kleenex boxes being ripped open in young boys' bedrooms all across the States. They just love her Ramsgate accent!

Still, with nearly a million hits and over 3,000 comments for her first posting alone, it makes some people's claims to be the most popular Thanet attraction on the internet seem rather lame. And puts the lie to Ramsgate being 'at the edge of teh known world'!

Luxury Yachts Cause Of 'Shrivelled Penis Syndrome' Say Scientists

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder Staff

It's official! Owning a large yacht can lead to a diminished manhood!

The effect first came to light following a survey of over 1,000 women in Thanet who had dated men with cruisers moored in Ramsgate harbour. More than 70% agreed that they had been treated to undersized portions in the captain's cabin.

Now marine eggheads have discovered that local sea life is also becoming genitally challenged, and have concluded that toxic paint used to coat the underside of Ramsgate's floating gin palaces is the cause.

And they've even named the condition after the area in which it was first detected - 'Dumpton Syndrome'!


A quick survey conducted by the Gazunder at Dumpton Gap confirmed the report's findings. Asked whether he'd noticed anything unusual in the trunks department, one male swimmer braving the chilly October waters said: "I'll tell you when I find it."

Google search: Dumpton Syndrome

Are you taking the mick? Ed.

Moving Experience

An anonymous caller has rung to inform me that 'certain people' have decided that I'm 'bad for the island' because I'm 'projecting the wrong image'.

Apparently the main gripe is that my humble jottings rank highly when you're searching in Google for things like:

Ramsgate Millionaire
Sandy Beach Pleasurama
and
Margate Giant Arse

The same 'certain people' have also suggested that I close my blog and get out of town if I know what's good for me. So taking the rather obvious hint, yesterday I fired up the old TT and went on the hunt for alternative seaside properties.

First stop was Hastings, where I viewed this quaint little pied-a-terre:


Not bad. Trouble is, Hastings is a bit shabby, and their lido is now a car park. It's a shame, as I was rather hoping that I could spend some quality time watching men with wooden legs set fire to themselves and dive off the high board into the deep end.

More luck in Great Yarmouth, though, where the Hippodrome still puts on a show involving scantily-clad ladies swimming around in a pool full of ping-pong balls. This place is on for 500 grand, and has terrific sea views:


Still not my cup of tea, though. It's the priciest thing they've got, and to tell you the truth 'Great Yarmouth - The New Half-Millionaires' Playground' doesn't quite have the same ring, does it?

Feeling Myself Again

Phew, what a kerfuffle! I'm glad that's all over. And thanks to those nice people at the Royal Free, I've got my old face back, although they tell me I'll be on identity suppressants for the rest my natural.

My security adviser, Fat Kev, was of the opinion that Dr You-Know-Who could probably have got a print off that previous photo and cross-matched it with his worldwide database. Not to mention the handwriting. You never know, he's probably even had his Dulux colour chart out, trying to match the paint in the background.

Nope, I'm a new, old man, I'm glad to say.

So, millions from the government to have nuclear waste dumped under your high street, eh? That's got to be an offer Margate can't afford to refuse!

Breaking News - BBC Apologises

I've just received an email from the BBC journalist who claimed he hadn't told Dr Biggles anything he didn't already know by revealing that I had personally recorded and disguised the ECR contribution for the BBC Radio Kent feature on blogging.

I pointed out to him that the exact words he had used in his piece to describe my contribution were 'His voice has been disguised', not 'He has recorded and disguised his voice himself'. Here's what he now says:

I apologise. I thought I had used different words. I'm certainly not trying to give your game away to Simon and would never identify anyone directly - if that person's wish has been to remain anonymous. I don't believe my disclosing that your [or someone else's] voice had been disguised by yourself, rather than by me, goes any way towards infringing any editorial guidelines, nor does significantly help any listener to determine your true identity. If you believe I have in some way stepped over the mark, I can pass on a formal complaint to our lawyers.

So what do you reckon? Should I get m'learned friends involved? You decide!

Get A Life

With all the recent frantic antics round here, I've decided to quit the rat race and get a Second Life. Or maybe it's my third or fourth life, depending on who you talk to.

Only trouble is, you have to pick a last name from the list they provide, so I've ended up as Eastcliffrichard Warburton.

Now all I've got to do is buy some, er, bread, man, and find my way out of this desert they stick newbies in.

Fingered

Yikes! Dr Biggles is now threatening to put out a reward for anyone who can name me.

He also says he's going to get his team of hot hackers to track down my real name from my Internet Service Provider. Although my wolf pack of highly paid lawyers would soon be round to knock on my ISP's, and Dr Biggles's, doors if he tries that one.

Meantime, I thought I'd reveal one of my favourite bits of me myself, if you get my drift. It's my middle finger.

BBC Responds

In response to my complaint to the BBC objecting to them leaking my identity to all and sundry, I have received the following email from the journalist concerned:

I have not told Simon (First name terms, eh?) anything he didn't already know. Even my radio piece said that your contribution was a result of your voice being disguised. Listeners could therefore assume that you disguised your own voice. (Bit of an assumption, I would have thought.)

Simon came to me (What, in a vision of loveliness???) wondering if it was indeed my voice, having played around with his new software. (Careful you don't go blind, Simon.) I simply said no, it was yours, disguised by yourself. That's not giving anyone a piece of any jigsaw, that's merely reiterating what should have been very obvious from the start. (Eh?)

The fact that he thought the voice was mine means that his clever piece of decoding software (Audacity - free on the net if anyone wants it. And it doesn't, in fact, 'de-code' anything, it merely enables you to reverse effects using your own assumptions.) had in fact led him further from the truth than closer to it. (Do what?)

Call me paranoid, but given that 'Simon' is a bit of a 'rent-a-gob' round at BBC Radio Kent, it wouldn't surprise me if this had all been a set-up in the first place. Which is what I had assumed from the very outset.

False Beard

Hah! I've re-anonymised myself! That should put Dr Biggles off the scent.

Cover Blown By BBC

You know me, I'm not one to nitpick, but when the BBC starts blurting out details of anonymous sources to all and sundry, well really, it takes the biscuit!

Here's the story so far:

1. BBC journalist asks me for a contribution to the BBC Radio Kent feature on blogging.
2. I agree on the basis that I remain anonymous and record, edit and disguise the contribution myself, here in my £250,000, state of the art recording studio at the old cliff top mansion.
3. Dr Biggles claims on his blog that he has 'unscrambled' the disguised voice, and publishes the results.
4. I then might have been a bit, er, rash and 're-scrambled' Dr Biggles's contribution thus:



5. OK, pause here to call me petty if you like.
6. Dr Biggles becomes so enraged that he calls the BBC journalist demanding more information about me, and said journalist reveals without batting an eyelid that his anonymous source recorded and disguised his contribution himself!

I know it's not exactly blowing the beans on who I am, but if I was an IRA supergrass I think I'd be a bit hacked off. Or, more likely, a bit would have been hacked off me by now.

Here is what the BBC's own Producer Guidelines say about protecting anonymous sources:

Protecting sources is a key principle of journalism for which some journalists have gone to jail. We must take care when we promise anonymity that we are in a position to honour it, including the need to resist a court order.

'Resisting a court order' presumably doesn't encompass 'Resisting some geezer who rings up and wants to know who it is'. Fortunately, however, there's also a handy tip a few paragraphs later:

We must ensure that if anonymity is necessary it is effective. Both picture and voice may need to be disguised. A "voice-over" by another person is usually better than technically induced distortion, which can be reversed...

Being a belt and braces kind of a guy, I always think it pays to combine both options. And besides, my old mate Barrymore was desperate for the work.

Swallow Migrates

It's such a miserable afternoon here in the Millionaire's Playground that I've taken to flicking through my back issues of The Publican (don't ask).

One story catches my eye. Apparently our local fourteen star hotel, the Swallow Kent International on the harbour, has been under threat since the owners, London and Edinburgh Inns, went into liquidation recently.

Not to worry, though, as the administrators have now managed to flog it, along with a package of other hotels, to a company called Gelink Ltd.

The new owners say that, to differentiate their new offering, the hotel will be renamed the Spit Kent International.

Gawd I must be bored.

New Kid On The Blog

Oops. Might have gone a bit overboard with the last post.

Moving swiftly on, it's good to see Man Eating Sausage (aka Bignews Margate) back from his annual holiday to the Pork Farms pie factory. And it looks as if Lucy Mail is going to start reviewing the local taverns on her Ramsgate Tourettes blog. Good on yer, Lucy! Lucy? Oh dear, she's fallen over again. Perhaps she should get together with Dane Valley Ted, once she's upright, as he's currently looking for tips on the best and worst pubs on the Ile.

And even my old chum Nether Regions has given his blog a makeover, so there's life in the Thanet blogging scene yet.

And for those of you who are missing the late, great, lovely, deeply lamented Ram Skate Raider, that pit bull tugger Eastcliff Thorburn isn't a bad substitute. If you're not of a frail or nervous disposition, that is.

Scrambled Egghead

Flaming parachutes! Dr Biggles thinks he's unscrambled my disguised voice from the BBC Radio Kent feature on blogging.

And now he has the audacity to call me a fraud! Well, two can play at that game.

Unscramble this, fly boy!

Climate Change - Special Report

by Isle of Thanet Gazunder Staff

With climate change top of the agenda at the meeting of EU leaders in Finland this week, how will it affect us here in Thanet?

Average summer temperatures are already several degrees above what they were only a few decades ago, and scientists agree that we could soon see baking 40C+ heatwaves, and standpipes on every street corner.

So we've got together with a crack team of climatologists from the University of Kent to predict how Margate, Ramsgate and the rest of Thanet could change forever over the coming years.


Not all the effects of climate change will be detrimental to the isle. New crops, such as these dates, will replace cabbages and cauliflowers, and farmers will be able to grow delicious Mediterranean style veggies such as tomatoes and peppers.

Even Caribbean crops such as cannabis might be grown outdoors, rather than in bedrooms and industrial estates as at present.


In turn this could lead to a booming trade in exports and tourism for the Port of Ramsgate, seen here in this computer simulation as scientists predict it will look in the year 2100.


However, our scientists predict that hot, Sahara-like winds could spell disaster for the north of the island. Margate's sandy beaches would be blown away, and many of its buildings will spontaneously combust (no change there - Ed). In this computer simulation for the year 2100, only Cliftonville remains inhabited.


Even Margate's famous Winter Gardens will be washed away by rising tides.


But the sheltered south of the island will fare much better, with Ramsgate becoming a top tourist destination to rival the likes of Cannes or Monte Carlo. Here we see how Ramsgate's Main Sands and East Cliff will look in 2100.


International tourism will become such a major part of Ramsgate's economy that the council will be forced to blow dry the beach daily, as they currently do in Italy, to meet international standards.

(That's enough climate change photos - Ed.)

Call Me A Septic

Just caught a report on our local TV news about the delights of Norfolk, Virginia, and how we're all going to be jetting there from RAF London Kent Manston International Airport.

But I'm not so sure the KCC marketing team who've been out there trying to persuade the Yanks to get their rather substantial bums on the return flights have done such a good job.

Asked whether there would be a demand from Americans to sample the delights of the Garden of England, the US travel agent charged with flogging the tickets replied: "Yes, I'm sure they'll want to come and see, for example, Canterbury Castle. Er, Cathedral."

So that they know what they'll be coming to see, I've published a photo of Canterbury Castle Er Cathedral above.