Monday, 30 April 2012

Going for Gold

The Olympics this year will probably have a much better Javelin contest than ever before…

I elude to the surface (ground) to air missiles that are planned to be mounted on the top of residential blocks in East and South London…   Albeit that the Javelin missile was primarily designed to destroy a tank and the Javelin spear was designed to get as close to the Olympic officials as possible without actually killing them, residents who will have the capability of thwarting an air strike during the friendly games can hopefully be sure that no television aerials will be knocked out while dealing with such incoming threats.

After all, any personnel trained in such weaponry must have surely been tested for performance enhancement drug usage if intending to hurl things around at the behest of the Olympic village?

How many can be taken up to the roof at once though?   Supposing the lift limit is ten people at any one time?   Can a young Mum get her shopping and her buggy in the lift with just two missiles?    Going up?

However, so much for culture, though what about all those senior citizens who will be living under such rooftop technology?  Well unfortunately, due to budgetary restraints these older residents will only be given broom handles or pitchforks to defend Stratford with.  All will not be lost though because these devices can also prove to be very effective deterrents as the enemy don’t like it up ‘em…

Given the nature of such extreme measures to keep the games within budget though, I don’t think it will be wise to go hot air ballooning over Stratford in a golden coloured balloon because these missiles will certainly be going for gold…

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Wrong name, Wright idea...

This morning I answered the door to a middle aged man with a clipboard.  He was obviously doing his best to look efficient and so I thought I’d enjoy the visitation as opposed to my normal greeting of, “No thank you,” while closing the door.

“Mr. Wright?”  He asked.

“I never knew you cared?”  I joked.

“Pardon Sir?”

“Why what have you done?”

“I’m looking for a Mr. Wright Sir.   Are you Mr. Wright?”

So now I’m finding it difficult to keep a straight face…   “Well some years back my Wife thought as much, Yes   So you could have a point there.”

“What is your Surname Sir?”  He tried.

“Not the one you’re obviously looking for.   And another thing….”


“I haven’t been knighted yet.   It’s not right I know but sadly it’s true.”

“Are you Mr. Wright Sir?”

“Please go away, I’m still a married man…   And beside that, my wife, Mrs. Burrows, would hardly agree with you these days anyway.”

 “I’m looking for a Will Wright.”

Struggling to talk through a fit of laughter I blurted, “That’s not a name it’s a job.”

Just then my next door neighbour came around to the door.   “Are you Mrs. Wright?”

“No sorry,” she spoiled my fun.   They live over at number Thirteen, but their van’s not there so they’ve probably gone out.”

“Thank you Madam,” he said.   “I couldn’t seem to get this Man to understand what I was asking.”

“Many have tried,” she explained while rolling her eyes upwards.