Elton's Gone

He zipped off in his Lambo a few minutes ago.

Now, let's get back to Normal/Norman/Norma. Fact is, there isn't a Normal/Norman/Norma. I made it all up. There's just me and Bertie.

Well, that's not strictly true either. The 'Catch It' people said they'd prefer me to appear in their ads with a family. So they've supplied one. Just for the shoot, you understand. Stacey - she's my 'wife' - was in EastEnders once, walking past Martin's fruit and veg stall. And the two kids come from Central Casting.

Nice bunch, but I wouldn't want to take them home with me, if you know what I mean.

Elton's John

Thank heavens for a spot of light relief. Elton's nipped over in the Lambo, as he's having his septic tank drained, and always likes to be well away from his country manor when that's happening.

I'm always impressed when I visit his place. He's got a very good eye for the subtle touches. For example, the way the ensuite music system plays 'Candle In The Wind' when you're visiting one of his many 'throne rooms'. Posh!

Norman Is An Island

It seems Norman's got the hump, and won't be blogging today as planned. Or speaking to me at all. Something to do with me calling him Norma. Or was it something to do with me calling her Norman. I'm confused.

NORMA SERVICE WILL BE RESUMED SHORTLY - PLEASE DO NOT ADJUST YOUR INTERNET

Potty Suggestion

I've become aware of the fact that in certain circles the suggestion has been made that I've been masquerading as a certain Doreen Potts (Mrs).

Whilst I can understand the confusion, given Mrs Potts's beautifully crafted acerbic comments, I can categorically say that I am not, was never, and never will be the aforementioned Gay Times icon. Neither am I Julian Clary, who's just moved to a mansion in Kent, or Paul O'Grady, blogging from his sick bed in Ashford General.

To scotch the rumours that my camp brand of lovable seaside humour is anything other than superficial, I will shortly be introducing a new member of the Eastcliff Richard team, my wife Norman.

Past Their Sell By Dates

Most of the England flags have disappeared from most of the M reg Mondeos around here, but connoisseurs of collectables can still pick up a 'Believe' Mars Bar if they're quick. Rumour has it that the Slough-based confectioner has already dispatched several million 'Make' stickers to bring them up to date.

However, The Wayne Rooney Prize For Perfect Timing has to go to Samo's Pizza in Arsongate, who crammed their World Cup Special menu through the CTM letterbox on Sunday, the day after England's defeat by Portugal. 'Good Luck England! Bring It Home!' scream Samo's, in a 94th minute attempt to cash in on World Cup fever.

Or perhaps they're suggesting that there'll always be a place for the England team at Samo's, bringing plenty of pizzas to many a Thanet home?

Pick Of The Week

Here's the first in a new weekly series for all my Thanet readers, in which I pick the best products and services advertised in all the local papers and free sheets. I've called it 'Pick Of The Week'!

WE HAVE LIFT OFF!
Ever had one of those nightmares that you're falling from a great height? The Ramsgate Sleep Centre has the perfect answer - Memory Foam Beds And Matresses! Memory Foam was originally developed as part of the NASA Space Programme 'to reduce the effects of G-forces on the astronauts in space flight'. Should also come in handy when it's time for blast off, if you get my drift!

WAKE UP AND SMELL THE CONCRETE
Need a new drive? Tired of builders taking the piss? Then call Wee-mix! They bring it with them.

TROUSER DISPLAY
If you're at a loose end next Saturday or Sunday, why not go to the Quex Park Horse Show And Country Fayre? The bucolic fun will include sheep dog and falconry displays, and the ever-popular 'Ferret Roulette', in which two sturdy yokels take it in turns to don trousers from a number of pairs, only one of which conceals the aforementioned ferocious member of the polecat family.

Cannes Do

Oh alright then, I am going soft. With Harbour Parade pedestrianised, the cafes spilling out onto the streets, and the glorious sunshine, one might have imagined oneself transported to the south of France in Ramsgate today.

Though come to think of it I don't recall seeing as many floppy man-breasts or arse-crack tattoos on display along the Croisette.

Tow Jam

A beautiful day for the fiesta down at the harbour. I'm surprised, though, that gay icon/Dolly Parton impersonator Mandy Winters isn't doing a turn, given that her fiancé, Thanet Council Chairman Jeff Kirkpatrick, does the honours by introducing the printed programme.

But not to worry, plenty of old favourites are there, including The Chocolate Volcano, and the flying doctor, towing a banner which appeared to read: 'DON'T DRINK AND ODEON'.

Must be something to do with local by-laws appertaining to the consumption of alcoholic beverages in cinemas.

Surrounded By Engines

The gentile peace of the old Cliff Top Mansion was shattered this morning by a frightful din. Those powerboat Johnnies make quite a racket, don't they?

Still, I was relieved to discover that the painful throbbing had not been brought on by the two bottles of Krug, chased down by several pints of the Gaddfather's finest, which I imbibed last night. Judging by the previous post, the combination would appear to be the perfect recipe for turning one into a sentimental old twat.

England 0 Ramsgate 1

Well the footie went horribly wrong again, didn't it?

But on the brighter side, the partée on the harbour tonight was a triumph. Where else could you witness two semi-naked Rooney lookalikes jumping on top of each other to the sounds of 'I Will Survive'?

Maybe, as some commentators have suggested, I've gone soft since I returned from the Caymans, but, really, I'm not too proud to admit it, I'm welling up!

Dead Good!

Had a great time yesterday at London Calling 2006, the music biz convention.


Great new singers.


Great new DJs.


And The Grateful Dead playing in the hall next door!

London Calling

Got to nip up to town again (cue thunderous applause from the north of the Ile). They've asked me to host a couple of corporate whatsits at London Calling 2006, some sort of 'new music' convention. Although why they want an old hoofer like me hanging around, heaven knows.

Anyway, I'm sure you're all grown up enough to continue commenting in a neat and orderly fashion while I'm away. Hmmm, on second thoughts perhaps I'd better turn the comments off!

Ramsgit

What a fascinating read Jonathan Aitken's newly published diaries make. I just can't seem to put the book down!

The erstwhile perjurer, perverter of the course of justice, (almost) son-in-law of Her Maggieship, biographer of my alter ego (Nixon - A Life), and receiver-in-the-gob of half a glass of decent claret from my old chum Anna Ford, tells a typically hilarious anecdote about his time as one of our local MPs, in his book 'Heroes And Contemporaries'. Out on the stump with his zoo-keeper mate John Aspinall, Aspinall apparently addressed the assembled Ramsgate masses thus:

"Napoleon once said that England is a nation of shop-keepers. As I look around Ramsgate High Street this morning I see that Ramsgate has become a nation of shop lifters."

Now it strikes me that some of my older readers may have been in attendance at this rally, and what I'd like to know is what happened next? Was Aitken:

1. Run out of town by a marauding pack of pit bulls?
2. Told by some wag at the back there were no more shops left to lift?
3. Re-elected on the basis of his charming chutzpah?

Answers on the usual post card, please.

Sun City

Blasting the TT back home down the M2 at some god-awful hour this morning, after yet another showbiz charity yawn in the West End, I became aware of an orange glow on the horizon, in the direction of Margate.

'Nothing new there', I thought, and began mentally crafting a post about the Arsonists' Playground being the Ile's very own version of 'The Smoke'.

It was only when I got past Herne Bay that I realised I had made a mistake, and was in fact gazing at Dawn's Crack. Seems just as appropriate in oh-so-many ways.

Everyone Bites The Dust

Bit of an update on that last post, as Tony Flaig (Man Eating Sausage In Wenceslas Square) has pointed out, everyone's now gone from yer man's list of blog links, apart from the excellent Thanet Blog List.

Probably just an admin thing then. Happy to correct that. No hard feelings. Water under the bridge. Time's a great healer. Plenty more fish in the sea. A stitch in time saves nine. Ect.

Another One Bites The Dust

Thanet's Blogmaster General has culled another blogger, I see. This time the victim is the East Cliff's very own, viridescent, car-crushing councillor Dave Green.

The Incredible Hulk (as DG's known in these parts) claims to be mystified as to the reason. Personally I imagine the Doc's had another one of his hissy fits, and blasted any link that was left with 'Eastcliff' in the title.

Cat Tales

Thanks for all the concerned emails asking whether I've been re-united with Bertie the Burmese. As you can see, he's alive and well, and back in Ramsgate. Angela had temporarily removed him to Barnes for safe-keeping.

She's questioned Bertie's pedigree many times, but the breeder definitely said he was a Burmese as I handed over the rather substantial cheque, so there's confirmation.

In other feline news, Bev, my agent, rang to tell me that I've been booked as the face of Catch It In A Bag, a new brand of deodorised litter tray liner. As part of the deal I can have as many samples as I like! Apparently they loved my suggestion for a tagline: Catch It In A Bag - The Purrfect Partner For Purrer's Nests!

Filthy Talk Talk's Filthy Talk

Mr. Filthy Talk Talk was in fine fettle when I popped round to his teeny-tiny post office this morning. Apparently he and the missus went to his sister's wedding in The Smoke over the weekend, and had to share a bedroom in the family home with another couple.

"They were effing bloody having it effing off all night," he explained in his own, inimitable fashion. "Me and the missus didn't get an effing wink."

He even drew me a diagram. Of the room, that is.

You Say Angina...

I forgot to mention another, er, new kid on the block The Angina Monologues in my recent Blogger's Digest. For an old duffer, he's not got a bad sense of humour.

Although he appears to have nicked off with my cat.