Cod Almighty | Diary

Yesterday once more

17 May 2023

Words.

A single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence and typically shown with a space on either side when written or printed.

Words are important, and you know, they sometimes have two mea-he-nings.

Ooh, it makes me wonder…what does "leveraging our physical assets" actually mean, actually?

In the absence of any activity down by the riverside are you filling your time melting down over Chairman Wow's wooing of Bertie Wooster and his twenty first century boys and girls? What about the new kid in Town? Who? Jennings, of course! Speaking of Jennings, let's just Trust Jennings. There we are, a smorgasbord of arch wittiness for you, the literatti in the know. Now do the Charleston whilst sipping a martini.

Doh, I'm sorry, so sorry, please accept my apologies. Your Deviant Diary was under strict instructions to get out of character and keep it tight this week. Which character was I today, Matthew?

I can't leave you in my guise as whispering Ted Rogers without reprising a classic 3-2-1 segment, one that neatly encapsulates Britain then, and almost certainly now. Are you ready? Here it is:

"This is a composer. German by birth, English by adoption. Best known for an oratorio published in 1741. It was called Messiah. You're bound to know his handle.”

Female contestant: (presses buzzer) "Oh God, I used to have it at school... Handel's Water Music..."

"So who's the composer?"

Female contestant: "Chopin?"

At which point our smooth talking meister of ceremonies turned to the other team:
“So I can offer it to you."

Male contestant: "Beethoven?"

And don't you worry, I’ve got a Bullseye moment lurking in the wings like Stuart Campbell, should the hot news from Blundell Park flag further. Wings, of course, were the band The Beatles could have been if they'd stayed together.

All this talk of early 1980s game shows is making me itch for another one of Miles Moss's Town Connect walls. We'll scratch that itch soon, junior, for we've an ever-bulging bag of delights to divert your attention over the summer.

So is that it, is that all there is left to mutter about?

No, hang on…incoming!

A round thousand season passes have already been sold and…what the… season "passes"? This is football, we buy season tickets. We play in the fourth tier of the Football League. Stop psychomangling the language with the language of the marketeers. Words are important.

Whatever they want to call it, beware the ideas of the march of the new era of professionalism – there be no Early Bird extensions and if you don't buy your ticket by 30 June someone from the waiting list is gonna nab your seat. They'll be no messing about no more – half of those already sold are to newbies just waiting to pounce on your very own plastic tubbery. Yes, your seat.

Look, you fools, you're in danger! Can't you see? They're after your seat! They're after all of our seats! Our wives, our children, everyone! THEY'RE HERE, ALREADY! YOU'RE NEXT!

Buy NOW while stocks last.