That groom's speech in full...

You may notice some similarities to the Wallis speech. They are entirely intentional...


Well, the future Mrs Jackson is now just Mrs Jackson! That will take some getting used to - it's a tough job, but I hope I'm the man to do it...

I did have a great speech worked out for you today, but as we’re now married, Helen has told me what to say instead.

So, here goes - first in a long list of thank yous from, (COUGH) MY WIFE AND I is to you ALL for coming today, and for the incredibly generous gifts you’ve given us. It means a great deal to us that a lot of people - many of whom think Hampstead is the far north - have come to join us for our big day.

Thank you also to Harry for the kind words and best wishes, and to both him and Susan for the considerable help they've given us with today. I still don't know what they make of this southern media jessie that Helen brought home for the first time almost seven years ago. I don't even claim to understand the offside rule or what a double accumulator each-way is, but they've both been extremely kind to me - not least allowing me to marry their daughter! It’s frightening how trusting people can be! There are flowers for Susan, and a crate of beer is on its way to Hartlepool.
(Flowers for Susan)

As some of you will know, Helen's grandad passed away last week, and we’re obviously disappointed he isn't around to share this day with us, as I'm sure he would have been enormously proud at how beautiful his grand-daughter looked today. Both Bill and Evelyn have been so welcoming that they are like my own adopted grandparents, and I am eternally grateful for that. They were married over sixty years ago – which has given us something to aim for; I’ll be very pleased if we are as happy as they’ve been together after all that time. My own Nan, who was from NewCASTle, died a few years back, but I know that in turn she would be very happy that I've chosen a canny North Eastern lass like Helen.

Secondly, unfortunately my Mum isn't well enough to be here tonight, and my Dad has chosen to stay at home and get under her feet. This has at least saved us from him requesting "Agadoo" in the disco later. Again, they love Helen dearly and we have to thank them for helping us with today's event. There are beer and flowers (I hope those arrive the right way round) on their way to Seaford. My Uncle Stuart and Auntie Janet are doing a great job of representing them here today and here's some flowers to say thanks again...
(Flowers for Stuart & Janet)

Whilst we're on the subject of flowers, there are some beautiful displays on the top of the pillars here. We can't leave them in the hall, so if you'd like to take one home with you, please feel free - it'll save Nick Wallis having to clear them up at the end of the night. Also, there is a picture frame – you may be wondering what that’s for – we’d love you to sign it, and we’ll use it to frame one of our photos of today.

People have asked about our courtship… our first date was to the bear-pit that is the midnight show at the Comedy Store; that went well, so I decided to try Helen’s culinary tastes, and being the class act that I am, took her to the fish and chip shop in Covent Garden that’s called “The Rock and Sole Plaice” (geddit?). When she liked that, I thought, perhaps this is the one for me?

The reading you heard from Nick Wallis about Waterloo Bridge was chosen because I thought I’d try taking her there to see the romantic view of the London skyline at night. Unfortunately, I bottled it - so our first kiss was at the slightly less glamorous location of Embankment tube station!

Many of you will know that I used to produce a breakfast show, with Steve Hyland, who I still love like a brother, and is here today. Well, in true breakfast show style – no, I haven’t cut a few funny stories out of the paper - but I did manage to look up that radio favourite – what happened on this day in history! One stood out as particularly appropriate. On 10th December, in 1883, that rarest of rare things – a blue moon occurred. Well, ladies and gentlemen, someone like Helen only comes along once in a blue moon, and that’s why I wanted to make her my wife.

Look-alike, radio travel news presenter, voiceover, TV producer, karaoke singer extraordinaire, character actress... and now beautiful bride - most people might be lucky enough to marry one of these… in Helen I have them all. I’m not quite sure what she’s doing with me - I can only assume perhaps she’s not as bright as she looks.
More thank yous need to go to the Best Man, Antony, of whom more in a minute, and the Ushers, Ian, Alastair and Adam, for stopping me from spending all afternoon in the pub. Spoilsports! Despite this, they still get some presents...
(Ushers' tankards)
I'm holding Antony's back until I've heard the speech.

Also to the others who have given their time to help us out - the other Will for videoing the ceremony so my parents can watch me sweating down the front of the hall, Nick Ratclifte for agreeing to DJ when he could be enjoying it with the rest of us, Nick Wallis for speaking and providing a substantial part of this speech as well as general moral support, and Nicola for also providing a wonderful reading. I think that's everyone called Nick.

Thank you to Diana Naish, Sophie and all of her catering staff, who have done a great job today, and will have to deal with your thirsts behind the bar later on. Also to Wayne, The Chocolate Guy, responsible for the fountain. And before the first dance, we have a piece of audio that’s been specially produced by James Stodd. I have no idea what’s on it, but please give it your full attention!

Also a huge thank you to Charlesworth and Hunt Theatrical Costumiers for making all the dresses - they've never done wedding dresses before, but I'm sure you'll agree all that everyone looks fabulous, dahling! If anyone is staging a musical in the next few months they've brought some business cards...

And last but not at all least, the bridesmaids, Wai, Viv, Nic, Louise and Holly - the second-best looking women in the room, after my wife - oh, and of course the Mother in Law. We also can't forget our pageboy Sam - we have gifts for you all:
(Bridesmaids' necklaces & pageboy's tankard)
So ladies and gentlemen, please charge your glasses and be upstanding for… THE BRIDESMAIDS!

============

I first met my best man in Flat Eleven of Bertrand Russell Tower at Essex University where we were both Freshers. We quickly became friends - I introduced him to radio, we shared an adopted home of the University Top Bar, and he gave me a temporary Brummie accent which horrified my parents when I came home for Christmas. Little has changed since - he still inexpicably drinks pints of cider, has maybe less hair, but we still get on famously.

After Essex, Antony worked at Haymarket publications where he met a beautiful Irish girl, Gillian, and I was privileged to be asked to be his Best Man. Ant and Gill didn't make me go through the ordeal that a Best Man's speech can be - but frankly, he's not getting out of it tonight!

Antony moved over to Ireland a few years back - and so I must thank him and Gill for coming so far to be here with us tonight. It remains to be seen whether I'll still be thanking him in a few minutes time. But we are all the more fortunate for his presence here with us today.

Put simply, the man is an inspirational public speaker. I can guarantee this day will stay with you for the rest of your lives. Like other life-changing events, you will remember exactly where you were. Your children will look up at you and say: "Daddy - tell us again about the day you heard Antony Whittall speak".

When Antony opens his mouth, the room falls silent, drinks go undrunk, cigarettes go unsmoked. DJs hush their records. Time stands still.

Antony can speak for hours, without notes, yet it seems like seconds. He can evoke laughter and tears - audiences are putty in his hands, and cling to his every word. The magic and charisma drip from every sentence, and transcend mere sounds. To use a radio phrase, this is "theatre of the mind" at its finest - I've never yet seen an audience he hasn't left whooping and hollering and on their feet begging for more.

We are therefore all privileged to be in the presence of such once-in-a-lifetime greatness. World leaders request audiences with this man, global stars fall over themselves for moments in his presence. People pay tens of thousands of pounds, and travel across continents to hear this man speak - he's yours tonight for the price of a return ticket on GNER! I am both humbled and honoured to introduce the single best - Best Man's speech that you will ever hear in your lives... Ladies and Gentlemen: Antony Whittall!

====

The best man, Antony Whittall. I think the build-up was justified by that. I was best man for Nick Wallis a few months ago and he did that to me, so it’s only fair to do it to someone else. To say sorry, we have another gift for Antony, plus there's a crate of cider on the way too...
(BM's tankard)

Well, how do we follow that? With one of the best DJs around - except we couldn't afford him, so I've got a mate in instead. I had the delight of producing him at Mercury FM; he's the man behind such legendary features as, er, Ratcliffe's Riddle. He's played for princesses and Robbie Williams (manager) - now he's here tonight. Don’t forget to sign the picture frame, but in the meantime, ladies and gentlemen, the caterers need to do the washing up, so please head downstairs for The Nick Ratcliffe Disco Roadshow!

The Greatest Wedding Of The Century

Well - with apologies to everyone whose wedding I've been to - if I don't think it was TGWOTC, then who will?!

I can only repeat what I said in my speech (see above!) - thank you to everyone who made it to York, and for the great gifts. You will get a thank you card (if TCMJs spreadsheet has worked correctly), but not until we're back from honeymoon here.

Will Kinder is now working on the DVD for the Spring release of a three disc collectors edition box set (TBC). I can exclusively reveal that the out-takes reel will include Helen knocking back a glass of mulled wine in one, and me checking my watch during Antony's speech. Despite what it looks like, I wasn't bored HONEST, just worried that I'd gone on too long. Curse those cameras that see EVERYTHING!

In the meantime, if you can't wait and would like to hear the excellent promo that James Stodd and Will Kinder produced (yes, those are the Capital newsreaders, thanks Matthew and Tony!) then TCMJ has worked out that the best way to do this is to put the audio on our wedding homepage. There, you'll see a link marked "wedding promo". Click on that and 6'24" of glorious production (7.3MB download - so may take a while!) should arrive for your listening pleasure. For some reason we're not entirely sure of, you may need to add the .mp3 extension to the file name for it to work.

Whilst you're downloading that, here's my lovely WIFE and I:



And some other hangers on:


Start as you mean to go on: The Queens Hotel Bar, 0030, Saturday

I don't believe Al was as drunk as he looks here, haranguing passers-by

Never ones to miss an opportunity to play to the camera...

All Hail The Earl of Pies

Or the little lady of course. Congratulations and HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Sorry I'm 15 minutes late. How did you celebrate? Next year it'll be take out pizza and a cuddle from your nipper.

Well done mate. Get down to the SRA awards now - it's your last chance for the next 18 years. Please pass on my best to Mrs Lord.

N

You realise I don't have to talk to you anymore

I just have to sweep by with a regal wave now I've had a package on Radio 4's Today programme introduced by James Naughtie and back anno'd by John Humphrys. It was like being in the middle of the ultimate aural sandwich.

I notice none of you commoners heard it. It almost matches the moment I treasure above all others (and which takes pride of place on my demo) - John Peel introducing me to read the news during his programme - the temptation to just scream "I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!" to the nation instead of a headline was almost overwhelming. but, you know, I managed.

Of the people who did text me after this seminal event (the Radio 4 one), there was a public school history teacher from Norwich, the managing director of a stock market listed company and someone who works at Buckingham Palace. It's a very downmarket programme.

If I had the werewithall I'd post it up. But I'd rather tell you all about my wonderful daughter. As the only parent who posts on this site, consider me warned. I'm sorry if my droning worship of the young lady that takes up a good deal of my time somehow finds its way into polite company. I'll try and stay on message in future.

And the message is...

I still don't go to pubs. Well I do, but so infrequently I have nothing constructive to say about them other than Thank God They Still Exist. I was with Ally (our Marylebone Correspondent - total postings: 0) at the Yorkshire Grey in W1 (scene of the Radio Showbiz Reporters 2004 Christmas Drink - more injuries than my stag do - and frankly some better quality gossip) the other lunchtime shortly after he showed me round the All New Western House, and...

The Yorkshire Grey is a Sam Smith pub, which must be, as far as I can make out, the state brewer. Where else can you get huge pubs, cheap beer, depressing atmosphere, central locations, historic buildings and the exact opposite of everything that Wetherspoons stands for?

Actually I've got a better analogy - Wetherspoons is ITV and Sam Smith is BBC. Both serve the same purpose but in very different ways.

Anyway, everyone knows what a Sam Smith's pubs is like, but the thought that came out of it was "Are there more good pubs in Soho, Noho and Mayfair than the rest of the country put together?" Discuss. And I'm not counting those perfect country pubs, that on closer inspection turn out to be restaurants.

Er right. This was meant to be a review of Theakston's Old Peculier, Bombadier and the first one, whose name I can't remember, but it's now more of a sorry warning about their effects. Which can't be all bad.

I'm off to look for houses in Kingston tomorrow, which on first sight has a lot of decent pubs, so I'm reasonably intrigued.

Love you all very much.

Nx

More on life south of the river...

If the South London Press isn't already the most unremittingly grim read, now they've found this, in our very own back gardens. Are we sure Chris Morris isn't now writing for the SLP?

NATURE lovers fear that squirrels could become hooked on crack cocaine plundered from addicts' hidden stashes...
Squirrels on crack

Parents - read this!

I think that Charlie Brooker is psychic. He has been looking in my head and writing down what he finds for his excellent column in The Guardian. This sums up my position on children - especially as we too live in bloody "Nappy Valley" - nicely...

I hate kids. Hate them all without exception. Even yours. Especially yours. Especially if it's a boy and you named it Jake. And if you've ever written a chummy diary article about Jake for a Sunday supplement, I wish nothing short of death upon you. Death by wasps and bombs and razorwire. In a thunderstorm. While Jake looks on in horror. Because I hate parents too...
Supposing... we had annoying child distress flares.

You know who you look like?

Making a pleasant change from me being asked that question, I'd like to propose a looky-likey of my own.

This afternoon, comedian Rhod Gilbert popped in Paramount Towers to be briefed on his new exciting new role with the channel. I'll be working very closely with this nice young man. During my conversation with him, something about him struck me as familiar.

Can you see who it is yet?

You loved the beer...

...now let's buy St Peter's Brewery!

Independent brewery put up for sale

Any suggestions for where we can find £20M? Do have a look down the back of your sofa. We'd get the Jerusalem Tavern in Clerkenwell too...

Here's my review of the brewery; and here's the pub review.

Hopback Brewery's Summer Lightning

Looks horrible...



But tastes (assume extreme 'strine accent) divine.

It's another bottle conditioned job, but with a lot chiunkier yeast which settles quickly. It won the CAMRA Gold Medal for best strong beer in 2001 and tastes fuckin' lovely.

Maybe I overchilled the others and didn't let the flavour come out. This one wasn't so cold, but the flavour was indubitably superior to the other two. It was also stronger, and at 5%, that's when the alcohol flavour really starts to come through (and make you realise that you couldn't really have more than 4 bottles without getting pissed)

But despite the ugliness of the bottle - Is that Dave Lee Travis?

Yes it is!

it's easily the best bitter.

Unfortunately, as an aesthete, I would go for the Wychwood brewed Duchy Original every time because it is such a beautiful label, but Summer Lightning nearly sneaks it because it points out on the back label that it is a source of folic acid - only something of any use to pregnant women!

Duchy Originals - Summer Ale

Here she is then...



I would say as lovely a label as the St. Peters. This is a bottle conditioned feller, but not in the way of a, say, Will Jackson. The yeast is a lot finer and as a result and takes a lot longer to settle.

It does say on the label that it's fine to drink cloudy, and equally fine to wait - it just depends whether you want a cloudy beer or not.

I waited quite a while and still got a cloudy beer.

Anyway, this was a lot lighter in colour than the St. Peters, and, as you'd expect, just as lagery. This isn't an insult, as it lacks the chemical aftertaste of a lot of lagers, but it did just taste like a very very nice lager. Which is fine by me.

And, being a Duchy Original, it's organic too, which means it's good for you. Woah look - I've just found the blurb, and guess what? It's brewed by Wychwood, who say this:

"Duchy Originals Summer Ale 4.7%
Available exclusively in Waitrose Stores over the Summer months, this is a bottle-conditioned, un-pasteurised beer, with a small amount of live yeast left in the bottle.

Brewed with Plumage Archer barley, blended with a small amount of malted wheat, and organic Fuggles and Goldings hops from Belgium. English Target hops are added after the boil to produce an aroma both light and citrussy, but with rich undertones of marmalade.

Jeremy Moss, Head Brewer's Tasting Note
“For Duchy Originals’ Summer Ale, we wanted to create a delicate straw-coloured beer bursting with summer-time flavours. So it has been brewed with more than a nod to the hop, which has given it accentuated citrus aromas, followed swiftly by hints of dried fruit and marmalade.

On the palate, there are delicate flavours of grapefruit and melon offset by an almost pine like hop flavour and a long lingering finish. Bring on the barbeque!”

This beer can either be drunk clear, poured carefully so as to leave its yeast at the foot of the bottle; or it can be enjoyed cloudy, with all the goodness of the natural yeast still in the glass."

Well, yeah, I still think it tasted like a lager. Anyway - highly recommended and only £1.65 a bottle.

St. Peter's Organic Ale

That's this one. I'd just started it at 9.30pm last Tuesday night when Five Live called asking for a 2-way on Madonna's hospitalisation.

This involved plugging my mic and headphones into my laptop, firing up the wireless broadband, connceting to BBC traffic on Skype and talking to Phil Williams in quality on national radio from my sitting room whilst Nic breast-fed Amy alongside me. A Dickensian scene of domestic bliss.

So in the general panic, the St.Peter's tasting session became a bit of a secondary issue as I drank it in several nervous gulps whilst I was waiting to go on air.

I can exclusively reveal, however, that it seemed quite nice - not amazing, but very drinkable. I think I may have over-chilled it, which was probably a mistake. It's only 4.0% and therefore quite subtle, but it's one of those lovely bottles that adds a bit of class to proceedings, it's organic (so therefore actually good for you) and it's only £1.59 from Waitrose, so I shall have to try it a few more times.

Nick

PS The next day I got the lead package on Newsbeat at 1245 and 1745 and then went on the 7 o'clock news to talk about Madonna and Eminem, leading me to wish more celebrities would get ill. In a nice way.

Proposal

No, not that sort. Once is enough. However, it has not escaped my notice, that over the last few weeks I haven't actually been to any pubs. In fact I've been to one pub, and it was brilliant, and as I was walking past it in the early morning sunshine I decided it would be a lovely thing to do to take a photo of it so I could post it on the pub guide and describe it in detail.

Then I realised the batteries on my camera (which seem to work on a one battery per photo ratio) had run out and I couldn't. And so I got depressed.

In the last week I have spent £20. £20. Yes I have been working virtually every day, and nights at that, but really, twenty quid suggests I might well be spending a lot of time at home, which, last time I looked, wasn't a pub. (More like a IKEA showroom cum nursery with random Nick Cave CDs and half-hearted electrical equipment)

So. I propose either another lock-in style spin o
ff blog dedicated to bottled speciality beer, or I appropriate the Lock In to write about bottled beer, as, frankly, I've been drinking a few over the last couple of months.

Basically since ordering a crate of proper beer from the Vale Brewery in order to decide which would win the Will Jackson Celebration Ale TM licence, (and the stronger stuff was too sweet, thanks Alastair) I've realised the difference between real beer and the usual offy crap.

actually it was more down to trying to drink a can of Grolsch after drinking some of the Vale Brewery's finest and it was just horrible. So, to start, a true story:

I went to my local offy on Willesden High Road. Not the every-other-shop offy, but the dedicated offy, the branded offy, the Unwins.

The Unwins is run by the sort of person you'd be if you were a scouser, divorced, quite bright, in love with booze, and in charge of an off licence. The temperature in the Willesden off-licence is never less than sweltering. ever.

I would think it was a ruse to divert people to the chillier (and more expensive) fare in the fridges, were it not for the fact that I know he's thinking: "Fokkin 'ell! Heat! Not lettin' that go! Best not do anything in case it goes cold."

So I go into the sweltering (and, almost smelly, but saved by the level of wood chip) offy and ask yer man if he's got any quality bottled ales on special.

"no."

he says.

so, I browse. and frankly, the only downside about drinking offy real ale rather than lager is that the price per unit of alcohol doubles. At least. But hey, if you want quality...

So I picked three innocuous bottles of ale out of the top shelf (they're always on the top shelf... exciting moment). and let's say it was something like Adnams Broadside or whatever - and it was £1.79 a bottle. So I took it to the till and he rang it in and it came up £4. So I looked at him, he looked at me and he rang it through again and it came up £4.

So I said "I'll pay for this before it changes its mind" and handed him the money.

As I was leaving he said

"Wait a minute"

I turned.

"Le'mme jus' 'ave a leuwchk."

And he started looking through a pile of price cards which were due to go on the shelves. After flicking through a few he said

"Owww yeh! 'ere we are. Buy 3 Adnams Broadside for £4!"

What are the chances of me picking not just the only real ale on offer, but exactly the right number of ales to qualify? Serendipity, baby. Actually someone clever can work it out - let's say there were 15 different bottled ales in the offy and I could have bought between one and 4. So... fifteen to the power of four to one? I don't know.

So anyway - tonight, in order to watch the test match I bought 2 bottles of Fullers Lord's Ales TM.


Lord's Ale - pah!

Now - a cricket ale... yes. A licensed TM (Entertainment Rights Ltd) of a "brand" grafted onto a lacklustre ale in order to take advantage of the fact that people are starting to take more of an interest in bottled ale and so might be drawn to "linkages" like cricket can fucking well fuck off. Shit ale too. 4% of tastelessness. The only upside was that it was so lagery Nic liked it when we shared the second bottle for dinner. It's the first bitter I've ever seen her drink. If it gets her into real ale it'll be like when Chris (one of my ushers) got his girlfriend into nick cave. Nirvana. Well, Cavopia, whatever.

Amy is fine and sends you all her regards.

Nx

Happiness...

Things that have made me laugh recently, other than that Eugene looks increasingly likely to win Big Brother - we can learn a great deal about ourselves from that fact - have included the following:

See above!

Never overestimate your listeners...

Every one a winner; and besides, monkeys are funny, aren't they?
From Entertainment Weekly.

No, I don't know why!
From Private Eye.

That Groom's speech in full

Just thought you might be interested - I'll try and get some photos up soon too.

Simon thank you for those kind and touching words. How do you think that went compared to when your eldest daughter was married? Better? Jill? What do you think? Vick? Second time around – nae bother, eh?

Ladies and Gentlemen, shortly after I got engaged, I realised I’d be able to stand before you today and say: “I’m Nick Wallis… and so’s my wife.”

Right now I am the happiest man on the planet, but before I pay tribute to my beautiful bride, Nicola and I, sorry… my wife and I have a few thank yous to make.

First of all, there are some certain special young ladies who I know have been looking forward to today for months. Our beautiful bridesmaids. They’ve been charming and delightful and behaved impeccably all day (it says here). Megan, Hannah, Emma and Louise you look absolutely perfect. We are all so proud of you. If Megan, Emma, Hannah and Louise are here, we have some little presents for you. Whilst Nicola is handing them out, ladies and gentlemen if you could show your appreciation for and raise your glasses to… the bridesmaids!

[give gifts – goody bags]

Thanks are also due to Anna, Becky and Vick from Bridesmaids R Us. You’re right, they do look just like they did in the catalogue.

Now, to the ushers. Gentlemen if you could stand up. We’d also like to give you a token of our appreciation and introduce you properly to our guests. Ladies and gentlemen I hope you will agree they’ve done a first rate job of stewarding us this afternoon. This is my brother Tom, who saw me through childhood. Matt Ford, who saw me through school. Chris and Ally, who saw me through Radio Oxford, and Tim Wilson, who’s just seen me marry his sister. Gents, thanks so much for everything you’ve done today, we really appreciate it.

[give gifts – engraved pewter tankards]

There is also one particularly smart young gentleman to whom we should pay tribute. Peter Jewell was the first of the new generation to find his way into the family, and he has become a great friend and a first class nephew. Peter, thank you so much for agreeing to be Chief Usher’s Chief Helper today, you’ve been absolutely brilliant, and I am very grateful.

[give gift – half pint version of above]

There is also, of course, my best man, Will Jackson, but I think it would be wise to give him his present after his speech, just in case…

Now, there is one group of people without whom we wouldn’t be here. Nic and I wouldn’t be anywhere, but none of us would actually be here. I refer, of course, to our parents.

Firstly I'd like to thank Jill and Simon Wilson, my new parents-in-law. I met them for the first time six years ago, and quickly discovered two things. Simon appears to own a magic bottle of white wine. Always exceptional quality, always chilled to perfection and it never seems to run out. And he's always very generous with it. Incidentally, at Christmas, this is supplemented by a magic bottle of port, with very similar qualities.

The second thing is that Jill is quite the most exceptional cook. Through her amazing food, I've been inspired to make numerous failed cheesecakes, lasagnes, pies and puddings. If I ever manage to make a meal as good as yours I'll die a happy man.
I am also deeply indebted to you for the amount of time and energy you've put into today. The wine, the design, the catering, the lights, the musicians, the flowers - all commissioned, chased, chivvied and generally knocked into shape over the last twelve months by you.

We are - I am - very grateful. It's perfect, it really is. And you even let me get a few ideas in of my own, didn't you Jill? And we didn't actually manage to fall out. Mind you, you weren't officially my mother-in-law then, so it's probably all downhill from here.

But sincerely and honestly, I couldn't have wished for a kinder, more welcoming and generous mother- and father-in-law. I know that all you've ever wanted is for your children to be happy. I promise I will make Nicola's happiness my priority for the rest of my life.

Now. Mum and Dad. What can I say? Thank goodness for unconditional love. I realise I haven't been the perfect son, but you've always been there to support me and that counts for a lot. Thanks also for your considerable contribution to the wedding, and Dad - thanks again for the maps on the wedding invites. I think I can say again with some certainty, that without that particular contribution, none of us would be here today.

[give gifts] - flowers for the mums - nice red wine for the dads.

There are so many other people to thank - Anne and Gay for looking after Baby Amy all day today, Clive and Wendy for putting up three of our guests - we really are grateful to everyone that helped make this day so special. There are, however, two people who've gone above and beyond the call of duty for us and we'd like especially to thank them:

The Wilsons are in a good position when it comes to weddings. As well as being lucky enough to have a BBC-trained sound engineer in the family - and I would invite you to listen to this - [hold mic in air] - pure hiss-free audio gold - you can't buy that - you only get it from thirty years of experience.

But the Wilsons are also able to count on a graphic design team in their midst. Tim and Jess not only designed, printed and shipped every single invite, order of service, menu and name tage. They did it from Australia. And have so far refused to accept a penny in payment for it.

It's not as if we were easy clients. Nic, Jill and I would convene meetings - is that pink too pink? too leafy or too flowery? I remember we even had a discussion about the angle of one of the flower stems in what felt like the 37th version of the design - is too far forward? too low? In all cases the solution was to send it back to Tim and ask him to come up with another four re-designs. And that's before we started negotiating over paragraph alignments. Your patience and good humour throughout the whole process frankly astounded me. Nic and I are very grateful and I hope everyone here will agree you’ve made an inspired job of it.

Tim and Jess are also the furthest travelled - from Melbourne. They just pipped Dopper and Jacqui who made it over from Sydney. Honourable mentions are also due to Becky and Richard and Brenda and Richard who are over from Hong Kong. I'd also like to mention Jo and Brendan who flew in from Belfast, Tom and Kat from Dulmen in Germany and Angela and Lawrence who made the arduous journey from Newcastle. Britain's transport infrastructure being what it is, it's them I'm most surprised about making it.

It's also a very proud tradition on occasions like this to pay tribute to the oldest and youngest guests. I hope she won't mind me saying that the oldest, by nearly 20 years, is Grandma Wallis. We are sincerely delighted that you are here. Although with those sunglasses on you do look like the head of an organised crime syndicate. I would warn everyone Grandma is considerably more lucid than most people half her age.

Many of you may be thinking the youngest person here is little Amy at ten weeks. Not so. That honour goes to the eight week old Josie Ford.

Matt and I shared a room at school, had a joint 18th birthday party far too many years ago at the officers' mess just down the road in Middle Wallop. To become fathers within two weeks of each other has made this year all the more special. I'd like to wish Matt and his wife Alex all the best for the future - you make a great couple and Josie really is a darling little girl.

Now, if you will permit me a few moments to pay tribute to my extraordinarily beautiful new wife.

I realise here and now I am the luckiest person alive and I can honestly say this is the happiest day of my life. Nicola is my heart and soul, and my reason for getting up in the morning - well, one of two reasons for getting up in the morning, but as she was mainly responsible for that second reason anyway, so she deserves the credit, anyway...

A lot of people quite naturally assume I met Nicola working at Radio 1 - this is not actually the case. In fact, we met around eight years ago when I was the Chair of the Student Radio Association and Nic was an administrator at the Radio Academy. The director of the Radio Academy wanted to discuss formalising a relationship with the SRA and invited me to a meeting to see if we could work together.

To give you a little bit of context, the SRA was an organisation in need of friends. We had just got Matthew Bannister's Radio 1 onside to set up the Student Radio Awards, but we had no money, no administrative base and no idea how we were going to stumble from one year to the next. For the Director of the industry's trade body to invite you round to discuss a formal relationship between the two organisations was a big deal. Especially if you had half an eye on getting a job in said industry, as well, if you know what I mean.

As we all know in situations like this, appearances are very important and first impressions count. I would have to wear something appropriate to a business meeting, but in media, perhaps a suit and tie would be a little too much. After all, I represented a student group and no one likes a student in a suit. So what did I end up wearing to the meeting that would define the fate of my organisation and very possibly my own career?

Well I've actually kept it all those years and brought it along today. It's this:

[hold up Monaco FC replica home strip circa 1990]

A Monaco FC home-strip circa Chrissy Waddle era. Mr Dalton could you take a photo of me with this, because I think when the speeches are over I'm going to take it outside and ceremonially burn it.

After this incident it was two whole years before Nicola would even consider going out with me. We could all have been sitting here in 2003 if I had worn something else. Anything else.

We've been together a long time now. It doesn't seem like a very long time - that's not what I meant. But six years is quite a while. And it's been quite a journey, we've visited some strange and exotic places together, Chile, Australia, Hong Kong, Wales... We've bought a home and a car together and gone from being underpaid graduates working in the media to... oh. Well some things never change, do they?

However there has been one event so life-changing and special and even more important than our wedding, and that, of course, has been the arrival of Amy into our lives. To me she is perfect, and all the perfection in her comes from Nicola, and I just hope I can make my two girls happy by doing what I do and striving to be a better husband and father day by day.

I would like to thank you Nicola for looking so beautiful today, for making me the proudest groom for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me, for giving us Amy and for being so patient, kind and so full of love that it flows out of you and lights up my life. Thank you.

Finally I would like to offer a special vote of thanks to you, my friends, for being here today. Weddings can be an enormous palaver, you lose a weekend, you shell out for a room, you have to travel to the middle of nowhere and wear uncomfortable clothes and shoes. But I think we, as human beings, become greater than the sum of our parts when we come together, and your presence helps give the meaning and purpose to what we're doing, and we are grateful to you all.

All that remains for me to do is introduce the mysterious and enigmatic figure sitting alongside the lady he so lovingly calls The Future Mrs Jackson.

I've known Will for 9 years now. I was but a humble student broadcaster and he was the ever-so-grandly titled Client Relations Manager at a company called MetroNetworks, which is now called Trafficlink. Just to explain - you know when you hear travel information on the radio, and the information is sometimes wrong or out of date? Well that information is supplied by Trafficlink. I'm not saying that disparagingly - getting travel information right is the broadcasting equivalent of trying to nail jelly to the ceiling.

Now, as far as I could make out, Will's job as Client Relations Manager was to traverse the country explaining to radio station executives that yes, Trafficlink's information was sometimes wrong and out of date, but it was nothing that couldn't be solved over a few beers. And it worked. Given that Will is, by his own admission, something of a radio anorak, and I can vouch for the fact that he is the single most sociable man on the planet, he could have been genetically engineered to be Trafficlink's Client Relations Manager he was so right for the job.

Even so - how long did you stay there for? 10 years? Good lord. You see, the only downside to being Client Relations Manager for Trafficlink was being shouted at by two-bit no-mark deeply insecure radio station executives who wanted someone to blame for their own incompetencies.

Earlier this year Will left his job at Trafficlink to take up a post at Ofcom, the broadcasting regulator. Will now advises on how to award multimillion pound radio licences. And as a result every single two-bit no-mark deeply insecure incompetent radio station executive who previously made his life difficult are now falling over themselves to be his best friend. Will told me he's had so many karmic moments over the past three months.

One of the skills of being a social operator like Will is being able to entertain an audience. And in this respect… Will is a giant among men.

When Will opens his mouth to speak, the room falls silent, drinks go undrunk, cigarettes go unsmoked. DJs hush their records. Will's deep, penetrating basso profundo voice reverberates into your very core and down into your soul. His words, his eyes, a mere facial expression can send a rapt audience into paroxysms of life-changing despair, laughter or joy.

His stories are a form of verbal sorcery which weave together leaving audiences clinging helplessly to his tiniest utterance - enchanted whilst he speaks, bereft when it is over. Will can speak for hours, without notes, yet it seems like seconds. I've never yet seen an audience he hasn't left whooping and hollering for more. He can reach spectacular rhetorical heights from a standing start.

Simply put, we are privileged to be in the presence of such once-in-a-lifetime greatness. Blessed that a man of such magical charisma can be here with us tonight. I am both humbled and honoured to introduce the best Best Man's speech that you will ever hear in your lives... Ladies and Gentlemen: Will Jackson!

[will's speech]

Thanks Will. I said I'd wait until after Will's speech before I gave him his present. Will has been a fantastic friend and an exemplary best man. I'm really grateful for everything he's done.

As well as being a leading light in Britain's favourite light touch regulator Ofcom, Will also runs his own online pub guide. I thought it would therefore be appropriate to get him his own beer. I think we have it arriving now.

[bottle of Will Jackson Celebration Ale brought in on silver platter]

Will, could you read out what it says on the label...

... This is also the beer that we are serving at the wedding all evening. So if anyone wants a pint with, or indeed of, Will Jackson, you'll find both of them at the bar. Have a good evening and thank you very much.

Convergence

I went to an Ofcom internal briefing on Friday, about "convergence". In a nutshell, this means any content being available on any device.

I could have saved 60 precious minutes of my life, if only the cartoon below had been published a day earlier. It's by the "Modern Toss" people, and is from The Guardian Guide.

I think it encapsulates the whole concept very well. (nb: This is not Official Ofcom policy).

New links

Best suggestion for new links for the right hand column of this august journal of learning was to "do a Gorman" and add some other Will Jacksons. For there are others of us, and many of them do interesting things.

Best by some distance is The Other Will Jackson [.co.uk] who makes animatronic lobsters. How cool is that?


Lobster (animatronic), yesterday [from willjackson.co.uk]

This is the sort of informed discussion you get with The Other Will Jackson:
"Lobster Violins - when a lobster moves its antennae in a certain way it produces sound by rubbing a soft tissue over a smooth 'file' to produce sounds - like a wet finger on a balloon. It is thought the sounds are produced as a defence mechanism.".

You're clearly in the wrong place. We're just waffling about where might be a nice pub to drink in. Go there now.

Thanks, Dotun

Getting home in the early hours of Saturday morning after having eaten fantastically at Fino for my chum Rob's birthday (other people's opinion of the place here), I turned on my Bug to catch up on the news before I zonked out. Imagine my surprise, and pride, when I heard The Lock-In's very own Nick Wallis reading the news on BBC 5Live! That's national, free-to-air, radio. I even stayed up an extra half an hour to hear him again, on the longer, on-the-hour, bulletin. Nice one Nick!

In other news, my plaster cast comes off on Thursday. I'm counting down the hours.

That best man's speech in full...

When Nick asked me to be the best man, I told him I was deeply honoured, but didn’t think I was the right person for the job. He said to me: how about twenty quid? I said: “Nick – I can’t be bought”. He then said to me: how about twenty quid and a pint of lager?

So – good evening, ladies and gentlemen - my name is Will, and I’m your best man today.

I must say I was a little worried in making this speech today - until I saw your faces and realised that you’re all like me… already drunk. And also getting as far away from Harry Potter Mania as possible.

It’s been an emotional day so far – even the wedding cake is in tiers.

Before we go any further, I must say thank you, of course, to Simon for a great speech, and for being such a fantastic host. And we’ll come on to Nick in a moment...

In particular, its my duty to say thank you on behalf of the bridesmaids – even though you may be able to see by looking at me that I’m not actually a bridesmaid. And didn’t they all look absolutely lovely today?

I’d also like to congratulate them and Nicola’s family for doing such a great job in making sure that Nicola went against her better judgement - and didn’t change her mind.

I must say that Nicola always looks great – but today, she looks absolutely stunning – doesn’t she, ladies and gentlemen? And as for Nick - he just looks stunned!

Thank you also to the caterers – Ginny Baldwin and the team – we’ve been able to taste the great job that they’ve done. And Combe Manor – when you eventually find it – what an astonishing venue. I also have to let you know there’s a wedding book to remind Nick and Nicola of today – please feel free to make your mark. And you’ll also find a display in the main hall of some early photos of Nick and Nicola, in an exhibition entitled “Nick Wallis – The Morten Harket out of A-Ha years”.

So Nick and Nicola have finally got married, for better or for worse. Which is quite appropriate - as Nick couldn't have done any better, and Nicola couldn't have done any worse…

Nicola, I feel I need to tell you about the man you’ve married. Nick can be described as handsome, witty, intelligent, generous, a great father and talented journ - journa …Sorry Nick, I’m having trouble reading your writing here…

I’ve known Nick for as long as I can remember: although, with not one, but two stag weekends before this wedding, my memory actually only stretches back as far as last Sunday morning - but I'm sure I've known him for longer than that! I hope we’ll still be friends at the end of this speech.

Actually, I first met Nick in the Spring of 1996. Nick, who tells me he’s 25, was clearly a child prodigy and at John Moores University in Liverpool at the age of 14. But this quibble aside, at the Student Radio conference they were holding, I was told the one person I had to meet was the new Chair of the Association. Now - I remember two things of that evening. One was how ridiculously cheap a large Jack Daniels and Coke was, and the other was meeting for the first time this slightly eccentric man, with crazy hair, wearing yellow “Rupert” style trousers ready to go clubbing in Liverpool afterwards. As you can see, very little has changed over the years.

Other than perhaps the hair colour – an early experiment in Nick’s goth years ended with the black he wanted actually becoming a rather odd looking navy blue.

But this was a man I immediately liked immensely. His casual wit and charm, his puppy-like enthusiasm for everything, his natural refusal to let anything get him down – and the fact I think he was the only person in the room drunker than me - made want him as a friend. I think for Nick though there was an ulterior motive – at the time I was a travel news reporter – and from what I hear, Nick seemed to have an unusual habit of waking up in railway sidings at the end of the line and needing to find his way home at three in the morning. I think he had a gold card for an upgrade at Basingstoke sidings.

His brother Tom, told me a story that I think encapsulates Nick’s genuine – if sometimes ill-advised - enthusiasm: not being mechanically-minded, Nick was not put off from trying to service the family car. He thought that he'd put some oil in it because he’d recently acquired the know-how to read the dipstick. He tipped a bottle of oil in, and clearly seeing how it could take some more, tipped in another bottle - a much, much bigger bottle. When the engine was full of oil, and I mean completely full, he set off on his merry way for about four yards before the car promptly conked out in a cloud of black smoke. Unfortunately the nick-name 'dipstick' only lasted a few days because he was a tad sensitive to it.

Thankfully with Nicola, Nick’s taste in women has improved beyond measure. You wouldn’t think Nick would have a great deal in common with John Major – and I’m sorry as I know we’ve only just finished eating, but Nick – being thrown out of a party for pinching Edwina Currie’s bottom is nothing to be proud of. And these celebrity encounters bring me to the first of this evening’s telegrams: and it’s from George Michael. It says Nick – congratulations on the wedding – it’s such a shame - we would have made a lovely couple.

Nick’s media career continued to progress. Despite having what they call “a face for radio”… and actually “a voice for newspapers” – he ended up reading the news on BBC Three. He was always keen to progress – and hadn’t yet realised that at the BBC if they want to give you feedback they’ll tell you. He asked the channel controller once what he thought of the bulletin – and got the response – yeah, you’re fine – just stop looking so bloody pleased to be on television!

With the arrival of the lovely Amy a couple of months ago, Nick has had to take on the considerable responsibility of a new baby. It tells you a lot about Nick that – for one moment – I wasn’t sure whether he was joking when I received the text announcing the arrival of Britney Condoleeza Giggs Cantona Ronaldo Wallis. But Nick has proved to be the most dedicated and devoted Father – constantly showing me photos and telling me how beautiful both Mother and Daughter are. And times have changed somewhat – when I was planning his stag weekend in Brighton, I asked whether there was anything he’d really like to do – perhaps jet-skiing, paintball, power-boating? He said that the best thing we could do for him was give him a couple of extra hours of sleep and a lie-in. You’ve done well to stay awake through my speech today.

Before I go, I’ll give Nick a couple of further pieces of advice today. I asked my Dad – who has been married for 40 years – if he had any advice for a new groom. He told me not to forget the five rings: the engagement ring, the wedding ring, the suffering, the torturing, and the enduring.

He also told me the best way to remember an anniversary is to forget it just once.
And his main advice to Nick was to remember the three little words that are the key to a happy marriage: “You’re right, Nicola”.

Now, as a man that will drink to absolutely anything, it gives me immense pleasure to invite you all to be upstanding, raise your glasses and join me in a toast to Nick and Nicola, because I think they were made for each other.

May your love be modern enough to survive the times, but old fashioned enough to last forever…

I'm sure you're both going to be happy together, and I speak for everybody here when I say I wish you both the very, very best for your future life together.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the new Mr and Mrs Wallis, Nick and Nicola!

Whiteley reappraised...

Having read the following, I think Al's being a bit harsh on Mr Countdown.
As well as surviving the Brighton bomb, The Friday Thing re-printed the following webchat - which has a great set-up and pay-off gag that made me laugh out loud on the tube last night. RIP.

>RICHARD WHITELEY LAUGHS
=

On September 7th, 2000, and August 19th, 2003, Richard Whiteley
took part in two Channel 4 webchats. In total the two chats took
up just one hour of the jovial presenter's too-short life, but
the pleasure they brought to the lives of the other participants
was surely infinite. In a way, this was typical Whiteley. He'd
bumble into people's lives for half an hour at a time and enrich
them like they'd never been enriched before.

Here are some of the best bits:

..

juice: are any of the other male presenters you know jealous of
your massive clock?

Richard Whiteley chuckles
Richard Whiteley: I know that Wogan is, but then he's jealous of
everything!
Richard Whiteley laughs

..

von: mr whiteley?... whats your favourite word?

Richard Whiteley: My favourite word is the word "moonset". We had
it on the show once and no one had ever heard of it. Just as you
can have a sunset you can have a moonset, it's nice and romantic
isn't it? It's a lovely word.

..

Andy: What was your favourite moment in the history of the
program?

Richard Whiteley: Erm... Carol has a dressing room next to me...
and last week I discovered there was a hole in the wall. I
thought of reporting it to studio security, but then I thought
bugger it, let her look!

Da-da da-da dadadada...pewww!

errr...rest in peace, obviously. But it gives me an excuse to post this again.

WPG World Service

And notice our shiny new link on your right to Danika and Jenni's blog Swank or Skank. They've linked to us, so I believe it is "netiquette" to return the favour. Or "favor" as I'm sure they'd spell it.

Other suggestions for bruvver and sista sites that we should link to would be welcome. Celebs with blogs could be good - Helen suggested David Duchovny out of the X-files, if only for the comment from someone posing the question "so did you ever nail the ginger bird?", and Al suggested Zac Braff out of Jackson-Quigley TiVo favourite Scrubs, but I think we're disqualifying both of them for having posted since May 24, although I'm a fine one to talk about regular posting.

Anyway, suggest away!

Guests take a dip in beer pool

I want one!

Eurovision!

I suppose it's because Will and I were busy watching TFMJ in "Oliver!" when it was on, but I'm surprised no-one has brought up The Eurovision Song Contest here at The Lock In. After all, it's the perfect excuse to make sweeping statements about foreigners AND post pictures of attractive young ladies.


Estonians-via-Switzerland, Vanilla Ninja. Look at the cowbells on those!


Ortal. She got even fewer points than Javine. But then everyone hates the French.

Check out the Official Eurovision website for the chance to vote for your favourite Eurovision songs of the past 50 years. As well as a few patriotic votes for Lulu and Katrina, I've already voted for "Poupée de cire, poupée de son" sung by France Gall but written by Serge "Lemon Incest" Gainsbourg, and "Ding-a-Dong" by the Netherlands' very own Teach-In. Everybody join in...


When you're feeling alright, everything is up-tight
Try to sing a song that goes ding ding-a-dong
There will be no sorrow when you sing tomorrow
And you walk along with your ding dang dong

Ding-a-dong every hour
When you pick a flower
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Ding-a-dong, listen to it
Maybe it’s a big hit
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Sing ding ding dong

When you feeling alright, everything is up-tight
Listen to sing a song that goes ding, ding-a-dong
And the world looks sunny, everyone is funny
When they sing a song that goes ding dang dong

Ding-a-dong every hour
When you pick a flower
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Ding-a-dong, listen to it
Maybe it’s a big hit
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Sing ding ding dong

Ding dang dong, ding-a-dang dong
When you think it’s all over, they let me down
Dry your tears and forget all your sorrow
Try to smile while you say goodbye
(Ding dong ding dong)
Ding dang dong when you’ll wake up tomorrow
When the sun is up in the sky

When you feeling alright, everything is up-tight
Try to sing a song that goes ding, ding-a-dong
There will be no sorrow when you’ll sing tomorrow
And you walk along with your ding dang dong

Ding-a-dong every hour
When you pick a flower
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Ding-a-dong, listen to it
Maybe it’s a big hit
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone

Ding-a-dong every hour
When you pick a flower
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Ding-a-dong, listen to it
Maybe it’s a big hit
Even when your lover is gone, gone, gone
Sing ding ding dong


Early version of that famous "Radio Crimes" cover

Dorian Gray in reverse

Renewing my annual Zones 1-3 Travelcard yesterday I realised that my photocard is now 12 years old and I look nothing like it. In the picture I look like a young, thin, attractive, slightly arrogant chap with hair. Whereas now...

Has anyone got an older photocard in use than mine? Scan to come once I've hooked up my scanner again.

And lo, she said, you'll be tired

Er, right.

Hello. I am now a dad. Amy Elizabeth Wallis. Beautiful, beautiful little girl. No piccies on the net.

This is the first moment I've had to have a look at the lock in and pub guide and it's very strange - it's like a window into another world.

Alastair - your functioning drunkard website is very intense - have you ever read Sleb? Written by someone who clearly has experience of being a functioning drunkard. I particularly like FD's booze hag (the one with the "Don't Ever Judge Me" graphic as part of her signature, who thinks she's found a kindred soul.

Strangely, FD's website (he's not a blogger, he's a websot, surely) has so many drunken attitudes and lucid moments it's like looking in a futuristic memory function thing. Annoyingly, being sober is the most difficult, yet tricky thing you can do. After all, you have to be very comfortable with who you are in order to spend more than 90% of your life sober. Or completely mad. I think most abstentionists (word?) fall into the latter category.

As you can probably tell I've had a drink. Well - 2 drinks. Not much, I agree, but the first real drinks I've had since Amy was born, and they are therefore having an effect.

Amy is the most wonderful girl in the world. She is clearly going to be Prime Minister and is certainly going to be a handful given she is "strawberry blonde" and Taurus. I have obviously taken the blame for her hair colour, given my ginger beard and support of Manchester United. It hasn't escaped my attention that (thankfully) she resembles Nic in almost every regard, including skin colour - but those Scottish genes of mine continue to poke through.

Amy and Nic are currently at the in-laws. I have been working all weekend, so I am going to get a morning's sleep tonight. It's the first time I've had a moment to think and be even slightly boozy and it's made me realise it's the first opportunity I've had to be even vaguely lachrymose about Amy and how much I love her. For the birth I had to be "strong" as Nic was in trouble for a bit. For the time I had off work I was just completely stunned by the whole thing and spent a lot of time just enjoying being part of a new family. Since I've gone back to work I've had to shut a lot of stuff off and just cope with it. The same when I come back from work.

This is the first chance I've had to have a few beers and just think about it. You see, this is the positive side of having a drink. You get to remember how much you actually like life.

Right - I'm going to have one more beer then go to bed. Barman!

I want a hamdog!

Pradel alerted me to the media storm surrounding the Hamdog: a dream of a snack, featured in the Miami Herald: a hot dog wrapped in a beef patty, deep-fried, covered with chili, cheese and onions, served on a hoagie bun and topped by a fried egg and two fistfuls of fries.

It's reported that a nutritional (is that the right word?) analysis found 623 calories with 35 fat grams for the dog and 828 calories with 50 grams of fat for the burger. Mmmm...

Unfortunately, that article is subscription only - but here's a summary, from the Rochester Democrat and Herald, of some of America's finest culinary moments, including of course, the Hamdog.

Things I should have posted:

From Holymoly:

It seems Dublin is alive with great shop names. A bloke called Ritchie - owns a carpet shop. He is... LINO RITCHIE!

>After our discovery of the carpet salesmen Lino Ritchie last week, i had the following mail: "As someone who grew up in the town where Lino Ritchie first launched, I'm disappointed you didn't include his slogan: "Our prices will have you dancing on the ceiling".

Meanwhile, from rival gossip sheet Popbitch - who cares if it's true, it's a great story:

>We'd be getting more excited about the election if the leading MPs were more like George Brown, the deputy leader of the Labour Party during the 1960s. A noted drunk, George's finest hour came at a London diplomatic reception. As the band struck up the first number, he approached a potential conquest in a long, red velvet dress
and asked, "Beautiful lady in scarlet, may I have the next dance?"

"Certainly not!" came the reply.

"Why not?" asked George.

"In the first place you are drunk. In the second, this is not actually a waltz but the Hungarian national anthem; and, thirdly, I am not a beautiful lady in scarlet, I am, in fact, the papal nuncio Archbishop Mancini."

London Bloggers

I found out via the forum at one of my favourite sites, Virtual Norwood, that there exists a site called London Bloggers where you can search for local bloggers via tube/rail stop. Nice!

I stumbled across this little wonder - Functioning Drunkard - which I admit frightened me a bit. I'd suggest we made him an official friend of the guide, but he may be a bit hardcore for us mere dilletantes.

Sick news

The nice people at B3ta this week sent me this.
Really, don't listen if you've just eaten. Really. Promise me you won't.

>> Vomiting news reader <<
"I heard this on Sydney radio last week", splutters Joseph, "and thought you might like it. We have to salute this radio newsreader who gamely continues trying to broadcast, whilst vomiting copiously and obviously. It's the little noises at the back of the throat that got to us.
http://www.crikey.com.au/images/2005/04/28-10E3PDY9B00.mp3

Garders did it much more professionally on URE once. Where did that studio dustbin go?

In sad news, Lucky The Dog, isn't so, er lucky.
More Than a little sad

Lucky, er, sometime before yesterday.

A nation mourns. But isn't it a wonderful world where this news comes under the heading "celebrity", and puts it ahead of J Lo wanting to be the first female president of the US?

Principal Horn

The BBC jobs email dropped into my inbox this morning to alert me to the fact that BBC NOW (that's the BBC National Orchestra of Wales) requires a Principal Horn.

Just thought I'd share that.

But whilst I'm at it, does the BBC run the National Orchestra of Wales, or does it have its own National Orchestra of Wales, completely separate from the state (ahem, principality's) National Orchestra of Wales - perhaps The Welsh National Orchestra? And what about the Welsh Nationalists' Orchestra? Splitters. Who pays for them?

No I'm not a father yet. I'm beginning to sound like one, though...

Beer Maths

And here's one from the files of Will's Dad:

> DON'T CHEAT BY SCROLLING DOWN FIRST!
>
>
>
> It takes less than a minute.......
>
>
>
> Work this out as you read.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> Be sure you don't read the bottom until you've worked it out! This is
> not one of those waste of time things, its fun.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 1. First of all, pick the number of times a week that you would like to
> have a pint. (Try for more than once.)
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 2. Multiply this number by 2 (Just to be honest)
>
>
>
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>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 3. Add 5. (for Sunday)
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 4. Multiply it by 50 I'll wait while you get the
> calculator................
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 5. If you have already had your birthday this year add 1755.... If you
>
> haven't, add 1754 ...
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 6. Now subtract the four-digit year that you were born.
>
>
>
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>
>
>
>
> You should have a three-digit number
>
>
>
>
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>
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>
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> The first digit of this was your original number
>
>
>
> (i.e., how many times you want to have a pint week).
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> The next two numbers are .......
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
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>
>
> YOUR AGE! ~ (Oh YES, it IS!!!!! )
>
>
>
>
>
> THIS IS THE ONLY YEAR IT WILL EVER WORK, SO SPREAD IT AROUND WHILE IT
> LASTS.

I have seen the future, and it is...

Beercasting. These guys are serious. We must start doing this.

Actually, it's not that far removed from the post-bar shows of the student radio days. It always seemed much funnier when we were doing it than when we listened back to the tapes...

Leaving the club

This comes from yesterday's Guardian, and is scarily accurate.
Big Garders and I are planning a trip to legendary Essex nitespot Sam's next Friday. Which exit technique will we be using? We'll just have to wait and see...



Click on the graphic to enlarge.
Yes, after all these years, I've worked out how to do the thumbnail thing.

In the news:

Here's one that I was alerted to by the consistently excellent Friday Thing:
MOONER FALLS TO HIS DEATH OUT OF WINDOW

What I particularly liked about this sad tale of rugby player stupidity (and many would argue that impaling is too good for them) is the quote from the Dad: "I want to warn young people about the dangers of binge drinking." Well done.

That other bastion of all that is true, Popbitch, reported the following:

A hippopotamus has swallowed a dwarf in a circus accident in northern Thailand. "A dwarf, nicknamed Od, died when he bounced sideways from a trampoline and was swallowed by a yawning hippopotamus, which was waiting to appear in the next act," the Pattaya Mail reported. "Vets on the scene said Hilda the Hippo had a gag reflex which automatically caused her to swallow." The vets said it was the first time the hefty vegetarian had ever eaten a circus performer. "Unfortunately, the 1000 plus spectators continued to applaud wildly until common sense dictated there had been a tragic mistake. Police said the trampoline has been sent for forensic analysis."

Sadly, it seems to be a hoax. Perhaps it would have been nicer if Hilda The Hippo had swallowed the mooning rugby player. Actually, that's probably a common sight on the streets of Cardiff most nights around 2am...

Politics meets Speed Dating

Or perhaps doesn't, as you'll find out if you read this.

My favourite paragraph:

"As they cast their eyes towards the two blondes in the corner they were no doubt wondering how to get their telephone numbers. I was wondering what they thought of constitutional reform."

Story of my life.

By jove, I think I've done it

here's a photo of Nick Cave



Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!!



Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!! Ha ha ha! The Dark Arts are mine! MINE!!!!

Sorry, started scaring myself then. I'm a bit tired, so I'll take all this down tomorrow, but I am quite proud of it so I want to leave it up for a bit.

I'd like to thank Will Jackson, virgin.net, WS_FTP (whoever they may be), and North Carolina State University for their HTML commands.

And how could I forget to mention...

one more link for the Election category that you may have noticed appear to your right. Here's Alastair Campbell's election blog. Or maybe not...

And one more...

From: Kevin Young
Sent: 04 March 2005 16:41
To: Will Jackson (E-mail)
Subject: Will's dad is the dawg!

Snoop "Dogg" has a website which translates any webpage into gangsta speak. See for yo'delf:

http://sites.gizoogle.com/?url=http://freespace.virgin.net/will.rjackson/dad.htm

KY

Not a morning person

The TV listings from the morning paper whilst in Ireland made me laugh:



Does it make me racist if I describe this as "Irish"?

And will the Tories turn that last line into an election poster?

Things I've been sent...

From: Mac Jackson
Date: Apr 16, 2005 8:48 AM
Subject: Beer
To: Will Jackson

Will,
Following on from PL "who let the dogs out"
try The dangers of drinking beer - so, soooo true.
Dad.

Which reminds me of the old joke:
Q: How do you turn a dog into a fox?
A: Drink eight pints of lager.
Boom boom.


-----Original Message-----
From: Ian Gardner
Sent: 25 March 2005 22:38
To: Will Jackson
Subject: contribution to the guide for ya!

Take The Alcohol Knowledge Test

I'm pleased(?) to say my score was "Bourbon":
Congratulations! You're 104 proof, with specific scores in beer (80) , wine (83), and liquor (60). Screw all that namby-pamby chick stuff, you're going straight for the bottle and a shot glass! It'll take more than a few shots of Wild Turkey or 99 Bananas before you start seeing pink elephants. You know how to handle your alcohol, and yourself at parties.

Tell me how you did.

From: Anthony Rudd
Sent: 13 April 2005 16:22
To: Will Jackson
Subject: The 10 worst album covers of all time

This made me laugh so much, I had to pass them on.

The 10 worst album covers of all time

Anthony Rudd
Area Manager
Trafficlink (UK) Ltd

From: Ian Gardner
Date: Mar 23, 2005 7:00 PM
Subject: Fw: FW: [Fwd: Beer Theories]
To: "Will Jackson (HM)"

W

Beer facts related email for the guide - if it's any use.


> Beer Theories
>
> Sometimes when I reflect on all the beer I drink, I feel ashamed.
> Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the
> brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this
> beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered.
> I think, "It is better to drink this beer and let their dreams
> come true than be selfish and worry about my liver."
>
> -- Babe Ruth
>
> An intelligent man is sometimes
> forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools.
>
> -- Ernest Hemingway
>
> When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading.
>
> -- Paul Hornung
>
> 24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case.
> Coincidence? I think not.
>
> - H.L. Mencken
>
> When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep.
> When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go
> to heaven. So, let's all get drunk and go to heaven!
>
> George Bernard Shaw
>
> Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
>
> - Benjamin Franklin
>
> Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind
> is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention,
> but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza.
>
> -- Dave Barry
>
> Beer: helping ugly people have sex since 3000 b.c.
>
> -- W.C. Fields
>
> Remember "I" before "E", except in Budweiser.
>
> Professor Irwin Corey
>
> To some it's a six-pack, to me it's a
> "support group." Salvation in a can!
>
> -- Leo Durocher
>
> One night at Cheers, Cliff Clavin explained the "Buffalo Theory" to
> his buddy, Norm. "Well ya see, Norm, it's like this. A herd of
> buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the
> herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that
> are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a
> whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps
> improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much
> the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the
> slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kill
> brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest
> brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer
> eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and
> more efficient machine! That's why you always feel smarter after a
> few beers.

Webspace photo things

Thanks Pie Lord and Deegers for your help. Sorry also for the swearing, I was getting frustrated with my own incompetence.

I've started something

I think.

Read this, go to the website, sign the petition!


RE: NEASDEN!

'After the LBL petition to get the tubes to run all night, I
have a slightly less ambitious campaign to run past you. The
pre-recorded train announcements on the Jubilee Line are fine
apart from when the train is stopping or terminating at
"NEASDEN!". If I see my next train is terminating at
"NEASDEN!", I tend to wait for the one after, or I'm subjected
to recorded announcements ending with "... this is a Jubilee
Line service to NEASDEN!" at least twice per stop, all the way
home.' - Nick

..

It has always amused me at how amazing Willsden Green sounds on
the jubilee line announcements, and always raises a small cheer
from me whenever I hear the Jubilee lady announce that this train
terminates at 'Wiiiillllsden GREEN'! She sounds so pleased with
herself, that I've often wondered what fantastical sights
actually behold mankind there!

And last weekend, image my amazement that there is somewhere that
excites the Jubilee lday even more; 'NEASDEN'! It didnt strike me
as anger in her voice, just even more magical!

Made me titter anyway.

- Jubilee-ent

..

I agree (although admit it is a somewhat trivial matter), so have
started a petition for you/us:

http://www.petitiononline.com/neasden

Go sign it people!


- Dave

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I have webspace.

I have a digital camera.

I have downloaded an FTP program.

But I still have NO FUCKING IDEA how to post photos online.

Please will somebody help me?

No?

I am willing to pay cash money. Does that change things?

Childish Humour

Literally.

Watching "The Sweeney" on BBC4 the other night (part of their "TV On Trial" week, which came to the conclusion that the Seventies were the best period for television EVER) dredged up a schooldays memory.

Even though I was too young to be allowed to watch "The Sweeney" during the seventies, everyone in the playground knew the theme tune. And what often happened during the cold-filled months of winter was that a boy (it was always a boy) would pick his nose and keep the snot on his finger, running around the playground poking it in people's faces singing "The Greenie! The Greenie! Ba-ba-baba-baah-ba-ba-ba-ba!".

It's not "Are you a bummer tied to a tree?" but it's still pretty funny.


Put some clothes on, girls - you're knicked.

Street signs

A couple of corkers I've seen recently...

A unisex tanning/nail salon near Timperley Metrolink station called...

Fem'n'hims.

A fast food restaurant on the London Road selling...

"Caribbean and Urban food to take away".

Now I thought I knew what "urban" music was a euphemism for, at least until Joss Stone, from the mean city streets of "Ashill near Cullompton" (according to BBC Devon), won a Best Urban music award, but I've no idea what kind of food it might be. Cream teas, perhaps?



The urban ghetto of Ashill (also near Bishopsteignton)

Bailey...

What bison?

I don't know why this picture made me laugh so much.
Anyway, Bailey the Bison lives with his owners in Alberta. He seems happy with it, from his website.

Ooh crikey!

As a footnote to my epic Altrincham post over on WPG, I thought you might like to read about Alty's gay past. They didn't teach me that Altrincham was synonymous with everything perverted at school...

Best yet pub story!

According to Geoffrey Wheatcroft's new book on the Tories, Margaret Thatcher invented Mr Whippy Ice Cream.
Well, perhaps not Mr Whippy itself, but certainly the ice cream that can be squirted from a nozzle. And several sources agree at least on the fact that she worked on "testing ice cream and pie fillings" whilst working as a chemical researcher. Funny ol' world, eh?

Margaret Thatcher, yesterday. Possibly.

Pub story, surely...

From B3ta.com:
MORE NOKIA FACTS - spiny informs us that "the dit dit dit dah dah dit dit dit' bleeps that Nokias make when you get an SMS is actually Morse code for 'SMS'.

Chives The Horse - An Apology

In a posting on Friday 18th March, Will's Pub Guide (The Lock-in) may have inadvertently suggested that Chives The Horse was a donkey, and only fit for the glue factory.

TFMJ now advises me that Chives in fact finished fourth with odds of 50-1, thereby netting us £23. We now therefore accept that Chives is the fastest horse of his generation, and both TFMJ and I are very grateful for his contribution to the Jackson-Quigley household budget. We welcome this opportunity to put the record straight, and to apologise to Chives The Horse and his family "Good Thyne out of Chatty Actress (Le Bavard) trained by Mrs S J Smith and owned by Mr Trevor Hemmings".
Whatever that means.


Chives The Horse, looking speedy, yesterday.

Will's Pub Guide will be making a donation to a charity of Chives' choosing.
(Surely "Firezza Pizza of Garrett Lane"? Ed.)

Irish news

In preparation for TFMJ & I's trip to Dublin in a couple of weeks, I have been following the deepening Sinn Fein political crisis. Here's some in depth analysis by The Daily Show's Rob Corddry. Well worth watching if you have broadband.

IRELAND: THE TROUBLES CONTINUE

It is late, but I'm not drunk

Sadly.

Yes it is a "professional" photo. I got it done because I wanted to put up life-size portraits of myself all over my bedroom, but then realised they may actually be of some use in advancing what my bank manager, agent and mother-in-law sniggeringly refer to as my "career".

And I'm holding a can of warm Special Brew in my left hand - the photographer suggested it would be best to keep it out of sight for the purposes of "creating the right impression", whatever that means.

I've been to NCT tonight - that's the National Childbirth Trust to you barren lot. Have just been given a graphic description of what to expect at the birth itself - which combined with a previous night's drinking of epic proportions brought on a full rush of nausea. Made note to self not to go out fighting beer monsters before Nic gives birth.

A review of the pub I was in last night will feature on the brother site, as soon as I find out what it was called.

The pub, not the site.

Horses, the Feds and Fiona Bruce

Gambling is a mug's game (unless of course it's the fruities, in which case clearly I will always win and look like a Pub God).

I say this because Serco Theresa had a "horse's mouth" tip on "Essex" in the Cheltenham Festival (which I note was also a tip from Helen off of Helen'n'..., and she claims to know what she's talking about in such matters). Plus, it's called Essex, so it will probably have been drugged up to the eyeballs, turbo charged, and have a massive sound system in its saddle, so should have been a dead cert.
It lost.
As did "Chives", named after my hairdo (thanks, Peter Gordon of 96.4 The Eagle!).
And the other horse I've forgotten the name of already (probably "Donkey", or "Three Legs" or "Shot In The Paddock").

CBS Evening News reported on a station that makes Airport Information Radio look like 1Xtra: WFED 1050. It's a station for government employees - all red tape, all the time. No, really. I've spent the day watching the "Thrift Savings Plan Ticker". And waiting for stories such as:
"For the first time in the history of the Office of Personnel Management, employees are being "RIF'd" because of a lost job competition."
or
"He is no longer head of NASA, but that does not mean former Administrator Sean O'Keefe is no longer reaching for the stars."
See what they've done there? Makes the Bong Game seem a bit stale, eh?

And I saw Fiona Bruce off of the news, in Starbucks. But it was the branch in the BBC Media Centre at White City, so that doesn't really count. She had very nice boots on, which seemed a bit pointless as she's sat behind a desk.

Lunch news for today: Gorgonzola pizza with extra mushroom from Pizza Express, Cowcross Street.

Over on the original pub guide soon: Will and Al go to the Essex University London Pub Reunion, and end up in several before even making it to the reunion. Contains new pubs!

I'd like to announce my retirement from international football

Well, I didn't get picked for Wales today either.

.

Never complain to soap writers...

Oh and I almost forgot: some advice from one of the nice people at B3ta.com:

>"I love the UK police soap The Bill: but when they introduced a new WPC, Honey Harmon, I was so disgusted with her lack of acting ability that I emailed the producers to ask who she had shagged to get the role. No response.

Then about a couple of months later there was a panning shot across the office taking in the white boards in the background: There was my name in big black letters with a ring around it in for a child sexual assault case! The bastards!"
(Catchag)

The stuff and nonsense starts here...

Right. Topics for discussion. Pick any ones you like:

Music: This week I have mostly been listening to:
Lemon Jelly. Nick was surprised I was going to see them live, as he thought they were cool. I should probably be offended.
Annie. Perfect pop princess from Norway, produced by Royksopp, who I also probably shouldn't have heard of. She (and the new single Heartbeat) will be huge, mark my words. Others I have played this to did find it a little over-saccarin - but then we were in a car on the way to a funeral.

And Alastair sent me this destruction in Stylus Magazine of Radio 1's Chart Show with JK and Joel. It's excellently written and deserves a wider audience. If you didn't already know, Joel Ross out of JK'n'... is really Joel Hogg, who used to work at Trafficlink Middlesbrough with TFMJ. So it's all my fault, I guess.

Other things of note this week have been:
Look Around You. An anorak's dream, especially the continuity announcements; it's just a shame they forgot to write any jokes. But for me, the star of the show was Medibot.

Medibot, in the 1970s.

On cable and scatterlite, my two recommendations are:
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart - Global Edition from Comedy Central - you'll find this tucked away as a weekend filler on CNN. I think this show is now the official opposition to Bush's America.
Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends, on Cartoon Network. This is where your imaginary friends go to when you've finished with them. It's the new show from the guy behind The Powerpuff Girls, and is worth it for the excellent theme music alone.

And finally, I wanted to sign up to become a volunteer dog walker at Battersea Dogs Home. It'd get me off the sofa and I'd get dog fuss at the same time: everyone's a winner. Then I find you can only walk dogs between 10am and 4pm, Monday to Friday. Who says? And more importantly, why? Surely the only people free at this time are those not working because they're too old, lazy or infirm, or all three, and therefore aren't able to walk dogs. Stupid dogs, stupid Dogs Home. So I'm sticking to sponsoring Merlin The Meerkat at Drusillas Park in Sussex, who doesn't need walking.

Merlin (possibly), not being walked yesterday.

Next time: My general election predictions, and either here or on the main site, the annual Essex University Graduates London Pub Reunion.

PS: Lunch news: Venison burgers from Chadwick's, the finest butcher in all Sarf London.

Welcome!

You're not a copper, are you?

Will and I were chatting in the Wetherspoons in Victoria Station the other day about the Pub Guide and how it had grown from it's original raison d'etre as a guide to pubs (hence the title) to a forum for its contributors to ramble about which stars they'd met, who was stalking them, and even what they'd had for lunch (or dinner, as us northerners call it). Will was keen that WPG (as we shall hereafter refer to it) stick to being a one-stop shop for all your pub-guiding needs. However, we both realised that, now the pointless-gossip genie was out of the bottle, it was going to be really difficult to put it back in there. What could we do to keep all parties happy?

We had another beer.

And then, like white smoke rising over the Vatican, an idea formed in the sky (just over platform 11). Why not have a brother blog where WPG contributors could waffle on as much as they liked, about anything they liked? Of course! How simple! But what will we call it?

It had to be pub-related. And it had to give us the leeway to talk a lot of rubbish. Well, we do that anyway, but it struck me that on the few occasions when I've been party to a lock-in* I've spouted even more objectionable rubbish than I usually do. Which is saying quite a lot. So I suggested "The Lock In" as a title and our glorious leader said yes. Sometimes life is simple like that.

So join us in talking nonsense after hours, and feel free to make use of the comments function. I love you, you're my best mate you are.

*note to non-UK readers: a lock-in is when a publican allows after-hours drinking. In your enlightened country you probably don't need this as your licensing hours allow drinking into the night, but we're supposed to go home at eleven o'clock (10.30 on Sundays). The phrase comes from the fact that no-one who wasn't in the pub at closing time can enter. This means that everyone who takes part is usually pretty far gone before the event even starts. Quite appropriate for this forum, I think.

(oh, and if you were wondering: left to right - Pie Lord, Nick, Will, Alastair, Julian)