Sunday, 20 June 2010

Bishop of St Pancras' Father's Day Sermon: A Transcription.

Good morning one and all and welcome to my *fully inclusive (*branded spirits not included) Father's Day, "Who's the Daddy" service.

Whenever Father's Day arrives, we think of slippers and Sunday roasts, a wee dram of sherry (or 25) and an exciting game of World Cup Football, but today I'm asking you to think of something else. I'm asking you to consider the forgotten children, found in lost property at railway stations all over London every day of the week. There was Ernest Worthing of course, found in a handbag - yes, A HANDBAG, in the cloakroom of our sister church of Victoria, on the Brighton line.

Then there was that poor little furry waif in wellington boots and a duffle coat, Paddington bear, who sat on his little case after a long journey from Peru, with only a marmalade sandwich for company. I can't quite recall which station at the moment, my memory isn't what it was.

But surely, most tragic of all is the story of our own dear Ivy Manilow, who was discovered here at St Pancras Station cafe, hidden beneath a cake dome amongst the Banbury buns, with nothing but a woolly nappy and a postal order for £2 to pay for her education.

Every year as father's day approached and her classmates made cards for their daddies, little Ivy was sent to clean the toilets with an old toothbrush. When the other children were taken to the park by their daddies, poor Ivy was wandering around with a spike, stabbing curly wurly wrappers and discarded cheese sandwiches. Many's the time, as that sobbing little girl swabbed the toilet floor she would stick a little hand drawn face on the mop and pretend she was dancing with a daddy of her very own. Ivy never had the chance of a bounce on her father's knee - although I have to say, I myself did endeavour to step in whenever the opportunity arose - a little treat that we continue to this day on the third Sunday of every month.

And so, as you dear Twitterers shower your fathers with love, aftershave, new underpants and peanut brittle - please, spare a thought for our poor, wretched, fatherless Twitter 'Cleaner to the Stars' as she scrubs her fingers to the bone and flushes projectile vomit down celebrity crappers. Because God loves us all - even Ivy Manilow.

Wednesday, 9 June 2010

Tonight's the night if I position my nozzle right! : "Not a lot of people know this"

Well it's finally here Petals! The last ever Big Brother and I for one won't be sorry to see the back of it. Since it started I've drained 3000 litres of first night vomit; unblocked the toilet 65 times; poked 9 unsinkable floaters with a pointed stick; scraped 5 tons of homemade bread and porridge from the roof and dragged 375.5 used condoms from the swimming pool (the .5 was Makosi's which had the tip snipped off in 2005)

Still there have been compensations. Over the years when the Housemates have misbehaved and the kitchen cupboards have been emptied, I have 'accidentally' found the following items in my van: 25 litres of cider, 95 packets of fishfingers, John McCririck's diet coke; 45 kilos of an unknown brand of chocolate, 28 bottles of peroxide and one chicken oxo cube (Shilpa Shetty hid it in her jewellery box)

Oh the stories I could tell you! If only they didn't make me sign a confidentiality agreement. Oh well . . . maybe just a little one . . . there was the day when dizzy Helen Adams was accidentally paused by a member of the production team in BB2 and nobody noticed for three days. Or what about the time Bubble took off his hat and we found out he had a tattoo of Bobby Moore on his scalp! I still have nightmares about the time Pete Burn's face ran around the house without him during the night, and what about that tear jerking wedding when Michelle Bass's dulcet tones filled the heavens with the beautiful "Way ay hey youz". But for me, the most memorable moment had to be that saucy Leo Sayer!. . . . you all saw him giving the camera the thumb and finger and demanding clean undercrackers, but what you didn't see was him streaking around the studio butt naked with his hair straighteners sticking from his buttocks, and a finger on each nipple singing "You make me feel like Swearing". Oh if I was only 2 years younger.

Lets hope that in this final year there will be plenty of fun and frolics, suspicion, accusations, body painting, violence and politically inappropriate greetings. But please, please, please Big Brother petals, no more flushing carcasses down the lavvy and causing a blockage - if you really must kill a housemate, please roll them up in a rug and leave them by the back door for me to collect. Think of your Auntie Ivy!

JOIN ME FOR A BIG BROTHER GOSSIP AT MY LOVELY LITTLE TWITTER CAFE - just add #auntieivy to your tweets! See you there Petals!

Tuesday, 8 June 2010

Big Brother the Final Flush!

Great news petals! There was tough competition, but I've won the contract to clean the Big Brother House! Of course, I've had to sign a confidentiality agreement, so I won't be able to pass on any gossip! But let's hope they're bad housemates and Big Brother clears out the food cupboards. That's when I usually do my Christmas snaffling.

Artwork by @RedDandy

Artwork by @RedDandy

I should be so lucky!

I should be so lucky!
Kylie is a naughty girl saying I've taught her all she knows about being a style icon. Though to be fair, borrowing my gold hotpants for her Spinning Around video did seem to do her a bit of good!

I've always used Cutting Edge Technology

I've always used Cutting Edge Technology
By @RedDandy