Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Epilogue

Thanks to everyone for their kind words and support. If you want to know why I've stopped writing, there's an explanation here.

It seems you could get rid of me that easily after all.

Donations only please to:

The Richard Eastcliff Home For Confused Millionaires
PO Box 21
Cayman Islands

This blog has now been left to medical science, but will probably end up in one of those delicious pasties they sell round the back of Sweeney Todd's in King Street.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Fall Out

According to my site thingumejig, there's been a huge rise in visitors wishing to peep at my jottings today. Perhaps it's because it's all gone a bit Graham Norton around here of late, and people haven't been able to resist a gawp.

Still, there's no such thing as bad publicity, and with over a million visits in the bag in just under five months, and lots of stale old cages rattled, it's been quite a success. A lot of you have started blogs during that time, and some of them are pretty funny. I've especially enjoyed Scottie's toons, Nethercourt's taciturn musings, Artyblartfast's arty blasts, and Tony Flaig's cows and stuff, and that boy Dusty's showing promise too.

Keep up the good work! Be seeing you.

Eastcliff Google

Call me a vain ponce (again already), but I do think that nerdy bunch over at Google had me in mind when they designed the graphics for their celebration of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's birthday today.

It's captured the mystery of moi quite neatly, along with Scottie's new heritage lamp posts on Victoria Parade. They've even gone to the trouble of paying homage to my campaign to track down the dirty dogs whose Barkers' Nests I'm constantly treading in.

Take a look...

Blog Jam

There's one born every minute in blogland, and with a reputation to maintain as the first to find the new blogs in town, say hello to Dane Valley Ted and another shining wit (who seems to have started a site in response to the spot of bother we had here recently. Tut tut, such pettiness).

It's early days for both, so I won't elevate them to millionaires' row until they're a bit further down the road to becoming bloggastars like me. And, of course, unlike some other selective Thanet blogs I could name, once you've made millionaires' row, you'll stay there. Well, in one form or another.

Fresh Start

Well thank heavens it's a new week and we can put all that unsavoury twat talk behind us.

Although I'm not feeling too fresh, as it happens, having only just got back from the Beckhams' bash. David said the rumour that he was going to do the old WW II fly past thing was totally unfounded, and that he's 100% behind the FA's line that there should be no chants of 'Two World Wars And One World Cup' during the finals in Krautland.

So we had to make do with some chappie in a Cessna, tugging a banner which read 'Margate Gent's A Twit', whatever that means. What a mix-up.

Right, I'm off to do the crossword, that should get the old grey cells pinging!

Sunday, May 21, 2006

The Wrath Of Bond

I see Dr Roger Moore over on Thanet Life has erased the link to my humble jottings from his blog. Of course, this might well apply to any of you bloglings who dare to step out of line, so be warned - don't mess with the Doc!

I, on the other hand, am much too magnanimous to do anything so petty.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

Lotto Trouble

Eamonn kept his wig on during the invasion of the live National Lottery draw this evening by protesters.

As did Sir Terry during the Eurovision Song Contest immediately afterwards.

Caught Nappying


Scanning through the Netto supplement for some low rent gnomes this afternoon, I came across this. I must say I almost choked on my Monte Cristo. How on earth did this poor little feller get the modelling job? I know his mum must love him, and Netto have to appeal to all types around here, but honestly.

On second thoughts, I did hear a rumour that Sandy Beach's baby photos had gone missing...

Raider v Bond: Adjudication

OFBLOG CONTENTS SANCTION COMMITTEE

Consideration of: Ram Skate Raider/Dr James Bond

For: Alleged breaches in blogging code

On: 17 May 2006

SUMMARY

1. It is alleged that, on the above date, Mr Raider added a comment to a post entitled 'Blog Eat Blog', on the blog entitled 'Eastcliff Richard', in which he used the expressions 'steaming great twat' and 'utterly contemptuous prick'.

2. The content of the post referred to Dr Bond, and therefore, in the context, the comments would appear to have been aimed at Dr Bond.

3. Dr Bond subsequently emailed the blog's moderator, Mr Eastcliff, to the effect:

'Ramskate's comment... is a little personal and offensive don't you think?

Regards
SimonM'

4. Mr Eastcliff subsequently wrote a post entitled 'Nasty Complaint', in which he outlined the nature Dr Bond's objection, and asked Mr Raider to 'do the decent thing' and self moderate (i.e trash) the comment concerned. Mr Eastcliff made clear in his statement that it was not generally his policy to remove other people's comments on his blog unless they contained extreme bad taste, libel, or unnecesary vulgarity. Mr Eastcliff also made clear that he regarded public debate in the comments section of his blog as the best means of redressing any offence, unless such comments descended into 'petty bickering'.

5. Mr Raider subsequently posted a comment to the effect that he would make no further contributions to the blog.

6. No further communication has been received from Dr Bond.

DECISION

It is therefore the panel's decision that:

1. All toys must be put away BEFORE bedtime.

2. The choo-choo train goes directly in the tunnel, without smearing itself over the entrance walls first.

3. Rattles should under no circumstances be thrown from the pram while it is moving.

4. The wheels on the bus go round and round.

5. Oops a daisy.

Ofblog Contents Sanction Committee
20 May 2006

Friday, May 19, 2006

Eyebrow Stuff

Watching Fiona Bruce introducing a news item about the wacky Finnsh Eurovision entry this evening, I was reminded that, many years ago, I was privileged to witness her fronting her own popular beat combo.

Imaginatively called Don't Chew Blu Tac, the group featured our Fi screaming tunelessly into a microphone, whilst writhing around in a scanty dress that barely covered her modesty. It was really quite shocking.

Nonetheless, it's good to see that, though she's now the serious face of the BBC's Have I Got The Ten O'Clock News For You, she's still raising eyebrows.

And talking of bands, how awfully rotten to see Heather Mills McCartney trying to take Sir Paul to the cleaners. My sources reliably inform me, however, that she doesn't have a leg to stand on.

Snake In The Grass

According to The Isle Of Thanet Gazunder today, a row has broken out over the ownership of the snake found in a pot plant at Homebase last week.

Two people have apparently come forward to claim the snake. Negating the obvious answer of chopping the reptilian in two and giving both 'owners' half each, the RSPCA say it will now be found a new home.

Apparently they've got their eye on an eminently suitable industrial unit in Whitehall Road which has been carefully planted to reproduce the snake's natural habitat.

State Of The Union

My fellow Thanetonians.

As I gaze down upon your small island from my orbiting cryo-cyberspace station 200 miles above, I see a nation divided. To the south I see wealth, happiness and naked virgins gaily cavorting in the Caribbean sunshine. To the north I see squalor, deprivation and tattooed pit bulls fanning the flames of hate and greed. (Applause.)

This state of affairs, which the journalists Mooreward and Flaigstein have called 'The Margate Scandal', must come to an end. I have instructed the Director Of The FBI, Davros Undercarriage III, to investigate, and he has already impeached a couple of ice cream vendors and dog called Butch. The investigation is progressing surely and swiftly to its inevitable conclusion, and it is only a matter of time before the winds of change reap their revenge on the seeds that have been sown by a rolling stone which gathers no moss. (Applause.)

I feel certain you will agree that, if this situation is not nipped in the bud, people will begin to vote with their feet. Frankly, I would vote with my feet too, if they weren't like blocks of ice. Would somebody turn the frigging heating up in here, please. (Applause.)

May God continue to bless the United States of America. (Applause.)

Richard M Nixon, President

That Referendum Result In Full

So, now you've all safely nodded off in front of the computer, it's time to announce the result of my 'Vote For Me!' referendum.

Richard Millhouse Nixon - 1 vote
That Bald Bloke With The Permanent Suntan Who Hangs Around Outside Schools - 1 vote
Dr Roger Moore - 1 vote against (by Dr Roger Moore)
Dr Roger Moore's evil alter-ego - 1 vote against (by Dr Roger Moore) (assumed)
Nick Dorman - 1 expression of disgust (Ram Skate Raider).

There was a late entry by Kevin The Geologist, who suggested I might be Cliff Richard, but that's just ridiculous.

We therefore have a tie. However, under the recently introduced George W. Bush Rules Of Voterisation, dodgy politicians take preference over sick perverts (just), and I therefore declare Richard Millhouse Nixon the winner by a margin of minus ten votes.

By the time you wake up with your chins covered in drool, Tricky Dicky will be in charge. God Bless America.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Neck Tie


Why do neither of our local TV news presenters have necks? I think we should be told.

Cool Dudes

I just pinned back me lugholes and had a listen to Kevin The Geologist's latest 'bcast' on the Oonagi Thanet Rocks site. In it Kevin (aka Dusty) discusses the local music scene with another 'cool dude'.

Mind you, he needs to pay a bit more attention to his audio levels. When the Candy Sniper track came on, it blew all the circuits in my deaf aid.

I do hope Kevin keeps up his passionate campaign to transform the Ile into 'Groove Island'. It would make a nice change. After all, currently you only ever hear the word 'hip' around here when it immediately precedes the word 'replacement'.

Hog Out!

Lumme! Two of those old crones propelled by Davros style undercarriages just burned past the CTM in convoy. They must have started some kind of Heaven's Devils club. There goes the neighbourhood.

Keep Those Votes Pouring In

A big thankyou to all my readers for the terrific response to my 'Vote For Me!' referendum. Early indications are:

Richard Millhouse Nixon - 1 vote
Dr Roger Moore - 1 vote against (by Dr Roger Moore)
Dr Roger Moore's evil alter-ego - 1 vote against (by Dr Roger Moore) (assumed)
Nick Dorman - 1 expression of disgust (Ram Skate Raider).

It's all to play for, so keep the votes coming. The final result, as is traditional, will be announced by David Dimbleby just after you've nodded off.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Football Fever

Come on you Irons! No, er, that was last week. Anyway, Angela rang to remind me that the Frenchies from Highbury are playing Barcelona in the European whatsit tonight, as if we won't have been subjected to enough soccer by the end of this summer.

I said I was rather surprised to discover she was a fan, but she assured me that her husband Gerald often takes her up the Arsenal.

Flaming Nora these botty gags have got to stop.

Uranus Clears Back Passage

Shock horror! I was walking back to the CTM from Postman Patel's teeny tiny post office just now, when I spied a TDC truck clearing away what resembled an old delivery of Wilkinsons crap from one of the small alleyways leading off Augusta Road. Shelves, TVs, boxes, and half a ton of barkers'.

Hurrah! Things really can only get better! No, hang on, that was Labour wasn't it?

Vote For Me!

I'm bored with all this who-ha over my true identity. I think it's about time I put it to a referendum.

So here's your chance to decide. Just leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, with the number of your choice. I promise that, if the majority of you get it right, I'll do the decent thing and have you all over for a slap up BBQ at my cliff top mansion. (Or rented hovel. Whatever.)

1. Ramsgate's new celebrity millionaire who's a bit of a vain ponce
2. Huggy Bear
3. Richard Millhouse Nixon
4. That shifty bloke with a pony tail lurking in your local pub
5. Dr Roger Moore
6. Dr Roger Moore's evil alter-ego
7. That nice Nick Dorman from the Thanet Gazunder
8. Viridescent, car crushing councillor Dave Green
9. The Gaddfather Of Ale
10. The secret lovechild of Ian Hislop and Paul Merton

On second thoughts, strike that last one. Nobody could be that ugly.

Blog Eat Blog

I see Dr Roger Moore over on That's Life! has re-positioned his musings as an ├╝berblog. Not only is he now billing himself as 'Thanet's Alternative Newspaper', he's appealing to all bloglings to notify him of their intentions.

Call me a vain ponce, but do you think that might be because I always beat him at finding the new blogs in town? Over to you, Roger...

Thanks Esther. Now, here's a funny thing, a potato that's shaped like a willy!

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Hunted Down Like A Dog

Holy Macaroni! That nice geologist Kevin says in his new blog Skin Of Stars that he had a drink with The Gaddfather Of Ale today, and that all the talk is of the mystery man de nos jours, moi!

Oh cripes, I suddenly came over all French there. It's the shock.

Anyway, apparently the Thanet Times has a 50p reward on offer for the first person to dob me in. If anyone feels so inclined, I think I can safely say that, if they come to me first, I'll see the paper's 50p and double it.

Turner Prize Shortlist Announced

The shortlist for the much coveted Turner Prize was announced today. The four remaining contenders who are hoping to bag a £12m fortune for their efforts are:

1. Pilemhigh and Crammemin (Architects) (Neasden) Ltd
2. Bodgett and Scarper Building Services (2006) Ltd
3. Car Parks 'R' Us Ltd
4. Ron Councillor (Cayman Islands Trust Fund Account)

The lucky winner will be announced in 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, and every year for the forseeable future. The organisers of the competition added that they had not yet ruled out awarding a £12m prize to each of the four shortlisters.

Stand Up Stand Ins

Things have reached such a low ebb over on the north side that even Roy Chubby Brown won't go there.

According to our local red top today, the comedian has pulled out of his June gig at the Winter Gardens 'due to unforeseen circumstances'.

I suggest that the 'unforeseen circumstances' were that somebody finally plucked up the courage to tell him he'd been booked in Margate.

Not to worry, however, because on the very next page I see that our magnificent boys in blue have come up with a plan to find a replacement. After a brainstorming session in their canteen across the road from the venue, they're "building a portfolio" on some pot smoking, foul mouthed drunks that are causing havoc here in the Millionaires' Playground.

Fans of Chubby's unique style of humour shouldn't get their hopes up too quickly, though. A Thanet police spokesman is quoted as saying: "It may not seem as if anything is happening on the surface".

Pillock Of The Community


I say, I've woken up this morning with a terrific thirst and a thumping great headache.

Looking over the past few posts, I have absolutely no recollection of writing them. The last thing I remember was Angela popping in late on Sunday afternoon. As ever, she'd been house hunting in the area, and had brought along a bag full of home made cakes that her niece Daisybell had prepared. They were delicious, and I pigged the lot.

Oh well, the cliff's still crumbling, the lift's still not working, Madeira Falls is still dry, the multi-storey flagpole's been vandalised, and there's still a cloud of thick black smoke to the north. I even accidentally touched base with a barker's nest on my walk this morning.

Good to know that all's still wrong with the world.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Pimped Ride


It's taken me a couple of hours, but the TT's looking good, don't you think?

Pull Your Socks Up

As if car crushing wasn't a unique talent in its own right, our viridescent local councillor Dave Green is now applying his superhuman powers to the Uranian accounts department.

I don't really understand the small print (I usually leave all that sort of stuff to Raymond, my business manager), but it would seem that a lot of stuff that should have gone out to tender, er, hasn't. Oh yes, and there's not been any proper internal auditing, whatever that means.

Let's hope they haven't spent all our money on 'hosiery'! (If you don't get that, ask your Grandad).

Anyway, I don't care about any of that stuff any more. I'm off to pimp my ride.

Blue Peter Flag

The hurdy-gurdy loving, train set building Dickensians in Broadstairs will be pleased to see that Viking Bay got it's Blue Flag award back today. Arsongate appears to have done well, too, so that's definitely the end of all my comments about 'floaters' and 'going through the motions'.

Anyway, I don't care about that any more. I've got plenty of pot, and a 22 stone prostitute to keep me happy. Nobody touches the bear, you dig?

Huggy Bear

That pen/gun, watch/laser chappie over on Thanet Life appears to have got the measure of me. He's painted a pretty accurate picture of my secret life as a dope dealing pimp, and now, I'm afraid, I have to come clean. Let's look at the facts:

1. I'm a millionaire with a cliff top mansion and a posh car.
2. I know lots of celebrities.
3. I once met David Soul.

It all stacks up, doesn't it? And now I cannot stand the pressure of maintaining my anonymity any longer. I am, in fact, Huggy Bear out of Starsky and Hutch.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Spying A Bargain

Gently surfing the internet this afternoon, I came across a mention of Ramsgate on the MI6 website. In their feature, the super spies sing the praises of East Kent, and predict a massive rise in property prices once the new high speed rail links are in place in 2009.

"All of a sudden, places such as Ramsgate, Broadstairs, Sandwich and Deal will become not just seaside holiday destinations, but viable residential locations for working people who want to get to town and back in a day - and still have time to take the dog for a walk when they get home."

Music to my ears, of course, and, even better, no mention of those shabby locations in the north of the Ile!

Lunch

Just back from a long lunch and a spot of retail therapy at Bluewater with Elton. He just had to have the £400 pepper grinder from John Lewis for his new house in Brussels. I told him that, if he had waited a couple of years, he could have bought a new house in Brussels for a lot less, just up the road at Westwood.

I couldn't help noticing that the shopping centre was bedecked with banners advertising a new 'Five in One' bra. I suppose one must rejoice that at last the lingerie industry is catering for the udder woman.

Beach Blanket Birchington

In the first of a series of exclusive extracts from our glorious leader Sandy Beach's soon-to-be-published 'Thanet Diaries', the carpet laying council chief has been summoned to a meeting at the North Thanet Conservative Association...

"Cor blimey! As if I ain't gort enuff on me plate, that lot darn the NTCA go and 'old a bleedin' leadership election. It was like the blinkin' third degree darn there. I told 'em, it's abart bleedin' time they put darn a nice bit of Axminster. I could do 'em a deal.

"Lord luvva duck, all this bleedin' fuss over Dreamland, what a two and bleedin' eight. I told 'em, you wanna turn the place into a carpet ware 'ouse. I could do 'em a deal.

"Strike a bleedin' light, you can't please everyone, can yer. I dunno, now the blinkin' Turner Centre's gorn tits up. I told 'em, Rome wasn't built in a day, they said: 'We don't want bleedin' Rome, all we want is a bleedin' arts centre.' I said when it's up and running I'd do 'em a deal on a nice bit of Wilton offcut."

That's enough diary entries, Ed.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Wilkinsons Word

Well that's football fever over and done with until, oh, er, let me see, oh yes, the World Cup next month.

Just before the Cup Final, I pottered down to Waitrose to purchase some goodies for Scottie, aka Snailspace, aka dilithiums etc etc, just to say thanks for the fine portrait he did of me. On the way back, I made the mistake of nipping into Wilkinsons, the, um, er...

Sorry, but I'm at a bit of a loss to describe Wilkinsons. If anything, it's a cross between your Dad's shed, the drawer of crap in your kitchen, and that old refrigerator that's been stuffed up the alley by the side of number 22. Needless to say, all the women in there looked as if they dipped their heads in a bucket of bleach every morning, and both sexes gave every appearance of subsisting almost entirely on a diet of six inch nails.

Give me Waitrose any day!

Ile de Thanet - Visitor Information

Friday, May 12, 2006

Snakes Alive!

According to the BBC News website, a woman from Margate has discovered a snake in a pot plant bought from the Westwood Homebase.

Both snake and woman were unharmed. The RSPCA has now taken the snake to Burger King where it is said to be recovering from a severe case of the munchies.

The Smell Of Success

So, a thousand new homes are to be built over at Westwood Cross (or Fart Bush City Limits, as Elton and I prefer to call it).

I presume all the properties on the development will be specified with non-opening windows, and a year's free supply of Airwick as standard.

Bad Mouth

I see from the trade press that Piers d'Organ is set for stardom as a judge in some new US talent show created by the sartorially challenged Simon Cowell.

Personally I've never seen eye to eye with the little gobshite. I bumped into him at my club once, and, during the pained smalltalk, asked him on what grounds he was there.

"I'm a country member," he replied.

I'm afraid that, at that point, the veneer cracked, and I responded with the rather acidic: "How could I ever forget?"

Gone To Pot

I don't know, I'm away for 48 hours and the whole blinking place seems to have gone to pot. Must be something in the air.

You'll be pleased to hear the gig in Manchester went off alright, although there must have been a misunderstanding somewhere along the line, as when I pressed the big red button to open the hideous tower block thing, the entire edifice blew up.

But the developers seemed pleased enough and took me to lunch in the Pennines. Mind you, the conversation was dull as, and seemed to revolve for the most part around some local geographical feature called Rooney's Foot.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Chocks Away!

I've asked Nigel to rub the Lear jet down with a damp cloth, as I'm off to Manchester for a couple of days. They desperately needed an A-lister to open some new tower block they've built, and, well, frankly they couldn't find a proper celebrity 'oop north', hence the call to duty.

In the meantime I invite you to cast your eyes, glass or otherwise, over my archives.

And if you're that bloke who burgled our top cop 'Super!' Peter West, don't go getting any ideas about breaking into my clifftop mansion while I'm away. Or at least, if you do, please ensure you take the chipped Minton vase that's on the mantelpiece. It's been annoying me for months, the blighters at the insurance company won't cough up unless it's totalled.

Right, I'm off to Ramsgate Kent Manston International London Airport. I'll be back soon, because, as I'm sure you all know by now, you can't get rid of me that easily!

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Fishing For Compliments

I must say, the more I stare at my portrait (which I have done for hours now), the more I can see a resemblance to my old showbiz pal, the late great lovely lamented Terry-Thomas.

I notice no-one's said anything nice about it yet. Rotten shower!

Portrait Of Ramsgate Millionaire Unveiled


A portrait of Ramsgate's new millionaire celebrity Richard Eastcliff was unveiled today. The painting, by local artist Snailspace (aka That Bloke With Dilithium Crystals In His Jocks) will now hang in the National Portrait Gallery.

Mr Eastcliff said he was delighted with the likeness, and added: "I think he's captured my chiselled features perfectly. I thought about hanging it in place of my bathroom mirror, it's that good!"

A spokesman for the National Portrait Gallery confirmed that Mr Eastcliff almost certainly would be hanged if he came anywhere near them, as he had been a pain in the arts for quite some time now.

Monday, May 08, 2006

The Internet - A Beginner's Guide

With all the new 'blogs' popping up across the Ile de Thanet, some of you may be confused by all the technical jargon involved.

I've been blogging for quite a few months now, and I like to think I'm abreast of all the new developments. So here is my ECR Guide To The Internet.

DIAL-UP - a service provided by Pizza Hut

NARROWBAND - similar to the above, but your order is not guaranteed to arrive within 30 minutes

BROADBAND - a type of legume

JAVA - West of Krakatoa

WEBLOG - first person plural of the verb 'to blog'

WEBCAST - first person plural of the verb 'to bcast'

MP3 - what John Prescott was hoping for when he asked Patricia Hewitt and Margaret Beckett to join him in his office

iPOD - what Gordon Brown keeps his glass eye in at night

PODCAST - a way of hearing voices directly from the internet

CODCAST - as above but strictly for fisherfolk

GODCAST - time to review your medication

Missed Tit

What a balls up. I'd just nipped out to the kitchen to open the second bottle of Krug, and when I came back the whole entertainment performance award bit was over.

I spoke to Elton on the phone afterwards, and he says the fun size pogonophile 'looked stunned'. I don't suppose anyone taped the show?

Premature Jocularity

I ejoculated prematurely there, the Baftas aren't on until 9pm. Maybe I'm getting a trifle overexcited. I've just gone through two packets of cheesy nibbles just watching my old pal Trevor McDonut's Tonight Programme.

It made me reflect that things really aren't what they used to be in TV Newsland, what with poor old Hugh Edwards now having to do standy-uppy news on BBC1, and every political editor on all channels dropping their Ts and Ds. It's glotta stop (geddit?!?!).

ITV's nice young political editor Tom Bradby used to speak like the Duke Of Edinburgh when I first knew him, when he was fresh from university. Now he sounds more like Arthur from On The Buses.

No Life On Uranus

So I was settling down to watch TBA Noel get his comeuppance, when my mind strayed to that other bunch of useless nanas at our local council. Remember their response to my online complaint about our crumbling East Cliff?

Dear Mr Eastcliff,

Thank you for your email. I have forwarded your enquiry onto our
Leisure Department, you can expect to receive a reply within the next
ten working days

Regards

Well, ten days is up. Nada.

Oh well, at least the Baftas shouldn't disappoint. Here they come now!

Barnes-By-The-Sea

Just been down to Waitrose to stock up on cheesy nibbles for tonight's Baftas on ITV1. My, how I'm looking forward to seeing the grin wiped off that beardy little gnome's face!

On the way, I noticed that the former Mariners caff overlooking the harbour, which I had earmarked earlier in the year for Barker's Nest, is now going to be a delicatessen. It gets more and more like Barnes-By-The-Sea every day round here!

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Caption Winner


Sorry, I forgot to announce the winner of my caption competition in all that excitement over the Baftas.

They were all pretty good, but I'm going to have to award the honours to the car crusher himself, Councillor Dave Green, whose admission that he doesn't in fact possess a particularly large hammer shows just what a terrific sport he is.

Thanks, too, to Snailspace for the lend of the 'toon'.

And apologies for the ever descending spiral of innuendo on this site today, I'm afraid I must have taken one too many Carry On pills. Normal service will be resumed in the morning.

Good night, and, as the late lamented lovely Dave Allen used to say, may your god go with you.

Wossy 1, TBA Noel 0!

Hahahahahahahahaha!

I couldn't help myself, I took a squizz at the BBC News website.

I shall now attempt to superglue my knob back on in anticipation of being able to gloat at the ITV1 coverage tomorrow night. I can't wait to see TBA Noel's face.

Who Is The Man That Would Risk His Neck For His Brother Man?

Vince Runacre.

Well, the answer used to be 'Shaft!', but it's not unconnected, as our Vince runs an embryonic blog called Thanet Underground, all about the smugglers' caves that are dotted around the Ile. It seems as if intrepid Vince likes nothing more than to spend his weekends investigating dirty great shafts and gaping holes.

There's one story on his site about a rumoured tunnel that stretches all the way from Pegwell Bay to Margate. Apparently a cave cove called Illingworth tried to navigate this tunnel back in 1938, but discovered it took hours just to struggle from Pegwell to the Lord of the Manor. Plus ├ža change!

Noel Noel Noel Noel Noel!

Bloody 'eck! You only have to take your fingers out of your ears and stop going 'weeble, weeble, weeble' for 2 MINUTES to hear someone talking about how That Bloody Awful Noel is going to get a Bafta this evening. Anyone would think it's the second coming. Actually, the last time I counted, it was his fifth.

If he wins, don't tell me. And I've pulled my ITV1 knob off, just to be sure I don't accidentally tune in to the recording tomorrow night.

Marching Into Pooland

On a recent trip to stock up on Dom, I observed that someone has removed the first 'O' from both the signs directing local coprophiliacs to Pooland in Effingham Street, round the back of the Waitrose car park.

Recalling that our local council leader Sandy Beach has forewarned of 'an invasion at Westwood Cross', I can only assume that those clever psyops people have come up with a cunning plan to lure the marauding hoards onto terrain where our lads can better pursue a 'dirty war'.

A Property Developer Writes

More and more people are asking me these days: "How can I make a bundle of cash, and drive around in a Bentley like you?"

Well, the answer is simple. All you have to do is find a run down location, preferably by the sea. If you can locate a derelict hospital near the seafront, or a moribund amusement park, so much the better.

Wait a few years until the place is festering with vermin and a total eyesore. The locals will then be so desperate for something, anything to be built on your site, you could probably even get planning permission for a Chernobyl style nuclear power station! (If it is a nuclear power station you're after, do ensure you use the 'It'll bring jobs for the locals' line.)

At this stage one or two of the natives might get a bit uppity, and you may even have to face an 'inquiry', but don't worry as your local council will be on your side, as long as you've promised to incorporate a bus shelter/public convenience/multi storey car park in the plans.

Tip: If things do get tricky, try putting a completely pointless 'visitor attraction' on your site. The bigger and more garish the 'attraction' the better. Don't bother spending money on planning permission or a health and safety certificate, as you won't actually be opening it to the public. The fact that it is irritatingly useless will ensure the locals become ever more desperate to see something 'useful' (your development) on the rat infested wasteland you've created.

And don't forget, in extremis you can always have a word with that pit bull tugging bloke in a tracksuit who's been hanging around your site brandishing a can of unleaded and a box of Swan Vestas in his giant, tattoed mits.

Then all you have to do is sit back, relax, and browse the latest luxury motor mags!

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Ramsgate To Parade 40 Ton Seagull

Ramsgate is to be the setting for an exciting new street theatre presentation, following the success in London this week of a parade starring a 40 ton mechanical elephant.

The organisers have set their sights on Ramsgate, Kent's budding new millionaires' playground, and are hoping to get local star Brenda Blethyn involved.

"I can't think of a more fitting tribute to Ramsgate's new status than the vision of a humongous great seagull stalking the streets," said the show's director, Richard Eastcliff. "The fact that we have the technology and financial backing to do this now is a tribute to everyone involved, as well as to the emerging vibrance and dynamism of Ramsgate."

The theatrical presentation will tell the story of the seagull's journey from a chick to adulthood, and its life changing discovery of a bin bag full of steroids round the back of Iceland.

Caption Competition


Snailspace, aka that nice chap with dilithium crystals in his jocks, has sent me one of his splendid 'toons'. I think it's meant to be the East Cliff's viridescent, car crushing councillor Dave Green, off on one of his rampaging crusades against untaxed vehicles, but I'm not sure, as the last time I saw DG he didn't have quite as much hair.

I've decided to run it as a caption competition, so do have a go. There'll be a crisp 10 Botswanan Pula note in it for whoever Elton and I judge to be the winner.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Millionth Visit

I see from my site counteriser that I only require five more visits to clock up the lucky million. As it's Friday and I'm feeling drunk, er, generous, I'm going to hand a stonking 1,000,000 Indonesian Rupiahs to the millionth visitor.

Only problem is, I have no way of knowing who you are... So if you'd all care to leave your names and bank details over the next hour or so, I'm sure something can be arranged.

Fuzz Words

'THE ISLE OF CRIME' screams the headline on the front of today's Gazunder. Apparently burglary's up, drug crime's up, car crime's up, everything's up.

Of course, here on the sunny south side, the only thing that's up is property prices, so us Ramsgate millionaires have very little to worry about. Nevertheless, in the spirit of public-mindedness that is my trademark, I thought I'd look into it further.

Our local top cop Peter West (who's apparently 'Super!'), promises to come down "extremely hard" on the crims, and tells the Gazunder: "There are a number of tactics open to us and we are using them all the time."

After a chat with my contacts in the force, I can now exclusively reveal what those tactics are:

1. Canteen tea changed from Typhoo to PC Tips
2. Ball juggling replaced with truncheon juggling
3. Thanet police dog 'Woofie' renamed 'Tyson'
4. 'Noddy' DVDs in rest room substituted with 'CSI Crime Scene'
5. Sun newspaper in WCs replaced by 'The Job'.

I feel confident that, with these new police tactics in place, it will only be a matter of time before everything does, indeed, come down all around us.

Blog Eat Blog

One of my regular contributors has noticed that I've been removing one or two comments. This is because the spammers have found their way to this blog, leaving messages about how you can earn an extra $500 a day for doing nothing.

As most of you are already millionaires, I've decided to remove them. The alternative would be to use comment verification, but that just seems like a pain in the derriere to me.

As you know, I'm happy for anyone to say anything about whoever and whatever they like, as long as it's done with humour, and the more extreme swear words are disguised with asterisks. I think, compared to some of the other blogs on the Ile, I'm pretty liberal. Just like that nice Mark Oaten!

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Scorcher

With temperatures on the Ile de Thanet soaring into the 100s, no doubt the north is already suffering from a plague of locusts/boils/semi-clad builders.

Here on the Cote D'Azur side, we're basking in sunshine, a gentle breeze wafting our G&Ts.

I had hoped to pull on my Calvin Klein togs and go for a splash in the pool, but Norman the pool guy hasn't given it the spring clean yet after Barrymore was round last year, so I'm slightly reluctant. I could go for a dip in the briny, but with the East Cliff about to crumble I wouldn't feel secure without a hard hat, and that would spoil the fun rather.

I know, I'll take a trip to that beach the other side of the harbour, below the West Cliff. It may be slumming it a bit, but at least I won't have to take my floaters. I'm reliably informed there are plenty there already.

Thanet Rocks

This is turning into Apology Week. I now owe those nice people at Thanet Rocks my sincerest and most humble.

I've been labouring under the misapprehension that they were the local geological society, but it turns out they are a rather cool and hip bunch of dudes, with a mission to bring us all the latest on the Ile's pulsating music vibe. Daddy-O.

I'm happy to put the record straight, especially as they've very kindly put a newsfeed link to my own humble jottings here on Ramsgate's East Cliff. Where they get the 'Oonagi' from, though, I've no idea.

Vom Cruise

One of those cheap travel companies has sent me an email advertising a 'fun Caribbean cruise', with the emphasis on 'young people'.

Call me old fashioned, but I don't think 'Spot The Minger' and wet T-shirt competitions, combined with an endless supply of tequila slammers, is going to float my boat. Not only that, but with all the booze and hormones swilling around, the decks would be constantly awash with blood, puke and ten other types of bodily fluid.

If I was interested in that sort of 'fun', I'd be spending my Saturday nights in Broadstairs.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Apology

Flying Spur. I meant to say Flying Spur. I hope I got all those references out before the Bentley boys saw them.

Product Placement

I've left a voicemail with those nice Bentley people telling them that I'm going to be presenting The Rich List, and there would be nothing more appropriate for the title sequence than shots of myself piloting one of their Bentley Continental Flying Spurs at high speed around a car park. In return for an indefinite loan, of course.

I don't think it's much of a fib. I'm sure I'll get the job, after all, 'The Noel List' doesn't quite have the same ring, does it?

By the way, I also told them I'd mention the Bentley Continental Flying Spur whenever I could here on my site. So don't forget, that's the Bentley Continental Flying Spur. A bloody fine motor!

Happiness Is A Warm Bentley

I've just watched some old bilge on BBC2 entitled The Happiness Formula. Apparently it's going to take six episodes of this claptrap to tell us what happiness is.

The BBC bosses could have spared our licence fee, as they need only have looked further down their schedule tonight to find the answer. Yes, I'm talking about Sir Alan Sugar. Now that's what happiness is. Driving around in a Bentley, explaining to people how you're going to tear them a new arsehole, and shouting 'You're fired!' at every opportunity.

Quite by chance, those nice people at Bentley have sent me a DVD about their new Bentley Continental Flying Toss. The TT's getting a bit long in the tooth, so I'm tempted by the 600bhp and 200mph+ performance on offer.

That should come in really handy on the weekend trips to Westwood.

Invasion!

I've just listened to our glorious local council leader Sandy Beach talking to James Bond on Thanet Life.

Sounding more like Harold Steptoe than Bela Lugosi, our Sandy predicts an invasion at Westwood Cross.

So I'm off over there now with my tin helmet and binoculars. Hopefully I can be of some help to our plucky lads, who I hear have established a forward position behind the Debenhams undies counter.

Mystery Man

Now that I'm going to be doing my bit for the Millionaires' Playground, I'm beginning to feel slightly guilty that I'm not pulling my weight when it comes to bolstering the summer season over in the Arsonists'.

Drawing on my not insubstantial showbiz experience, I've decided to resurrect an idea from the 70s, when all the red tops would run a 'Mystery Man' competition during the summer months. The idea was to publish a photograph of their 'Mystery Man', and any holidaymaker that spotted the fellow, and approached him using the designated phrase, would be handed a crisp fiver.

So, come the August bank holiday, I'll be walking up and down Margate front, a bundle of notes in my pocket, waiting to be approached with the phrase: "You are Eastcliff Richard and I claim my five pounds".

Mind you, I'll have to work on my disguise, as I think a stab vest and industrial respirator would be giving the game away rather too easily.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Front Man

Relaxing with the Thanet Times over a cuppa when I got back this evening, I came upon a picture of local council chairman Jeff Kirkpatrick enjoying a game of volleyball on Broadstairs beach.

Councillor Kirkpatrick, who's engaged to Dolly Parton impersonator and gay icon Mandy Winters, is presumably building up his stamina for the honeymoon.

PS: I've been asked by my highly paid media lawyers to clarify that Ms Winters is an icon for gay people, and not, so far as anyone knows, an icon who is gay. So that's that cleared up then.

Back Home

Oh well, yet another defeat plucked from the jaws of victory. Even the security chap in the car park at Teddington reckoned they'd probably only called me back to make Noel look good.

Still, as you know, I am not one to dwell on such matters, and driving back to Thanet in the TT, it occurred to me that perhaps I should concentrate more of my talents on brightening up the local entertainment scene.

Then it struck me: An Evening With Eastcliff Richard!

I don't suppose I'd go down too well at the Winter Gardens, given that I've made one or two off-colour remarks about Margate recently, but what about Ramsgate? Surely the audiences can't still be as hostile as when The Rolling Stones played here back in the 60s, when Mick Jagger said Ramsgate was the roughest place they'd played (and that included Glasgow)? Besides, I've been encouraged by the words of one of my correspondents, who said that if I was thinking of doing a live gig, he might come along, if he had nothing else to do that night.

So it's decided. First thing in the morning l'll call that nice Brian Stout who runs the Granville.

i hive up

i hate had to report to using my mobilf but i hate meter worked nut gow to use the predictive text function

reshaps i had butter wait until i get back home

fatcliff richarse

Beyond A Joke

This is getting beyond a joke. Still, at least I know the director's on my side, he's let me borrow his desk.
--
THAT BLOODY EASTCLIFF, IF HE SCREAMS "YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY!" ONE MORE TIME I'M GOING TO KILL HIM. WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK HE IS, BRUCE BLOODY FORSYTHE?

Noel All

That's the last time I borrow TBA Noel's Raspberry after it added that insulting message to my previous post. I've borrowed the producer's laptop now, so there shouldn't be a repeat performance.

I see Noel's all over the trades today, talking about how he's worried he might become 'over exposed', now that C4 are running Deal Or No Deal back-to-back, 24/7. Let's hope the producer of this show I'm auditioning for today thinks the same. Personally I think I'm in with a pretty good chance!
--
MUST GET MAKE-UP TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT EASTCLIFF'S MOUTH, IT LOOKS LIKE A CAT'S ARSE.

Recalls

In a real rush, so only time for a short piece. I was called back to London this morning for more auditions on The Rich List!

It looks like it's now just a straight race between me and TBA Noel, although my attitude towards him is softening, he leant me his 'Raspberry' device, and I'm sending this to you direct from the green room at Teddington Studios!

Wish me luck!
--
EASTCLIFF IS A TWAT

Monday, May 01, 2006

Alfred Hitchcock Presents

Those pesky seagulls have been at the bin bags round the side of the house again, polishing off what was left of last night's Chateaubriand.

I am resolved to stop the blighters. I've printed out a life sized photograph of our local council leader Sandy Beach, and attached it to the fence opposite.

If that doesn't scare them off, I'll eat Elton's wig.

Hairobatics

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the great British weather has again pulled out all the stops for the bank holiday. As the sea breeze gently rips the tiles from the roof, Elton, who's visiting for the weekend, has decided to go for a walk along the front.

He must be mad, but he says he's bought some extra strong glue for his wig, so hopefully there'll be no reports of a hairy UFO being sighted over Ramsgate Harbour.