This is me, Eccles

This is me, Eccles
This is me, Eccles
Showing posts with label Inverness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inverness. Show all posts

Friday, 21 December 2012

Desert Island Discs

Wendy Beckett

"Now this statue of a Cardinal is very lifelike indeed."

Nasty Young: So, Sister Wendy, the Pope has suggested that you take your life as a hermit to its next stage, and move to a desert island?

Sr Wendy: Yes, until recently I was living the contemplative life, sometimes not speaking to anyone for as long as ten minutes at a time. My only contact with the outside world was my regular television broadcast. But the Holy Father thinks I could take this further.

Nasty Kirsty

Now, as a BBC employee, I feel it is my duty to insult the Catholic church.

Don't you think that all the evils of the world would go away if the Catholic church would only change its views on contraception, abortion, and women priests? Why can't it adopt the values of the BBC, as laid down by Sir Jimmy Savile? I mean, look at the real problems of the world - HIV, famine, genocide, cancer, Norovirus, wet weather, the price of designer clothes, the train service - why isn't the Vatican taking responsibility for all of these?

Well, Kirsty, I am sure that the Pope is listening to this programme - I know he's a great fan of mine - and we are all praying that he will lead the Catholic church into a position where it will not cause any offence to secularists.

Same-sex marriage

This charming work of Renaissance art reminds us that God wanted men to marry each other.

Now, your first disc is that famous rugby song, "Four and twenty virgins came down from Inverness," sung by the choir of Christ Church, Oxford. Did you choose it because it reminds you of your university days?

Oh, definitely. Did I mention that I went to Oxford, and my examiner, Professor Tolkien said I was the cleverest person he'd ever seen? Then I told him I wanted to be a nun, and he made a joke about habits and hobbits. When I finally took my vows, I planned to take the name of Sister Brainy, but the Mother Superior advised me against it, so I became known as Sister Humility instead...

Mona Lisa

My luxury item - an unfinished masterpiece by Leonardo da Vinci.


If you hated this piece, then you will certainly not wish to read this:

The best in Catholic journalism.

Wednesday, 25 April 2012

De Napoloen of Notting Hell

Dat rarver clever tittle is a tribbute to our dear freind Damain Thopmson, who is puttin us up in his humble aboad now dat we has arrived in London.

Castle Thopmson

Dis is a pitcher of Castle Thopmson, which is a large huose in Notting Hell, where Damain lives wiv just a few servants to look after him.

Our flight from Austriala was a bit probblematical. Half way, de pilate said dat dere was a horrible noise commin from de engines of de Beoing 747, and so he told us, "Don't panic folks, we is gonna make an emurgency landin in Dubbai. But if you knows any good prayers, den let's be havvin dem if you wants to be saved." Well of course, I is saved alreddy, but I did sing a few Calumny Chappel songs, like "Come, Thou holy Parachute." But when we landed it turned out dat Anti Moly had fallen asleep in de tiolet, and it was her snorrin dat was causin de niose and vibbratoin.

Will Heaven

We got to Heathroar eventaully, and made our way to Notting Hell, which is a posh part of London. We was admitted into Castle Thopmson by de butler, who is called Will Heaven, it seems dat his parents was very infleunced by de poster above.

Anti Moly was a bit jet-logged wiv gin, so Heaven showed us to our rooms. I has got de Paddy Pio suite, and my dear anti has de Nanny Ogg suite, I aint heard of dat saint before, but she does seem to resemble my dere Anti a little. Dem Cathlics like kissin saints, but I fink even Damain would draw de line at dat one.

St Ogg

Talking of Damain, we heard some loud crashes at aruond 4 a.m. and a male-vice chior singin "Four and twenty vergers came down from Inverness." I later fuond out dat it's called a Rugby song, I spose dat Damain goes to Mass in Rugby sometimes, it's a place in de Midlands dat we may visit.

Now, Damain was very pleased to see me,  but he said he had got a blogg to write just now. Anti Moly was still in de Nanny Ogg room snorrin away her jet-logg, but Damain who is a true professoinal managed to keep typin away, even wiv de cielin vibratin above his head.

Eventaully Anti came down lookin for booze. Damain had to go to de bathroom, and when he came back he said "What's happened to my bottle of Geoffrey Lean Patent Hair-Restorrer?" Apparently, Anti Moly had drunk it, finkin it was gin. So now Damain dont seem to be very pleased wiv us, but perhaps he will soon be charmed by our kind and gentle natures.

Hair restorer

Damain is havvin a party soon, and I is lookin forward to meetin all his freinds like Joanne Hairy and Giles Frazor. Anti Moly is lookin forward to meetin Damain's stock of drink.