Earlier this month, TIME Magazine released details of their annual award for Person of The Year. Since 1927, the magazine has identified their Person of the Year, recognizing a person or group of people who have most influenced the news during that year, for better or for worse. In recent years, the shortlist for the award has included people as diverse as Hillary Clinton, Mark Zuckerberg, Vladimir Putin and Beyoncé. This year’s shortlist included Donald Trump, Kim Jong Un and The #MeToo Movement. Today we can reveal the “real” winner…
Ihave told before of my visits to Yorkshire – the land of the early to bed. My first visit was about five/six years ago when I discovered that everyone in Rippon is in bed by 8pm. At least this time we were driving there – which took just over an hour and a half – instead of the nine hours that National Express takes. So everything being equal, it shouldn’t be that bad and today we are going to a place in Bradford rather than Rippon. So Razzi and I set off driving through Liverpool and, of course, everything is normal but the further we venture down the M62 and the closer we get to Bradford, the more it seems like we are driving onto the set of The League of Gentlemen.
Today I would like to report a possible conspiracy which has haunted me for 57 years. As you will all have read, yesterday was my birthday. I was born in St Catherine’s Hospital[*] where the most hideous of mix-ups occurred that has affected my whole life. You see my Mummy – who we call Granny here on Jammy Toast because she is The Chimpton’s Granny – is thick, as you all know from some of the stories we have published over the years. I also have two sisters who are exactly the same; both as thick as Granny and who prattle-on on just about any subject you care to mention. On the other hand, I am a relatively intelligent person who – as the Chimpton will confirm – is quiet, noble and withdrawn. In fact, the complete opposite of Granny, Diane and Pauline. What I have always maintained is that all those years ago there was a mix-up at the hospital and a rather intelligent, good-looking family took Granny’s real son home and I was left to endure the family from hell.
The Chimpton and I were playing around on the internet last night – the details of which are definitely a story for another day, if ever – when we came across a rather interesting story. The headline stated that a suspicious stranger had been arrested loitering around a house following a complaint from the owner. When the arresting officer asked the guy for identification he said he didn’t have any but he was Bob Dylan – a likely story. As we all know, Bob likes to wear hoodies in public and hangs around empty houses in the middle of the night – yea, right. However, we are aware that Bob does like to stay inconspicuous and just maybe this time it had led to his detainment. The following is the story from the ABC News website and it goes like this…
Yesterday morning our newsagent’s delivery of Daily Mirrors had gone astray and so we were left with no newspaper. Myself and some of the bears were sitting around my tablet reading the news on the BBC News website when we came across the following story. It has absolutely nothing to do with bears or any of the usual subject matter covered by Jammy Toast. There was just something about the story which fascinated us but also left us feeling upset and worried for both Kirsty and Zack. This is their story…
Some people get very brave when they get behind a keyboard. Our very own Razzi has even been racially abused on Facebook while playing Pool with a fifty-five year old man who thought – because of his name – that he was a Pakistani. These kind of crimes need to be stamped down on and now it looks like they will be. Online hate crimes should be treated as seriously as abuse committed face-to-face, prosecutors in England and Wales have been told. Revising its guidance for prosecutors, the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) says the impact of tweeting abuse can be “equally devastating” as shouting it.
Here at Jammy Toast we love old black and white photographs and indeed, in the past, we have featured pictures by our favourite photographer, Shirley Baker. Over the weekend we found a collection of photographs taken by an American student by the name of Janet Mendelsohn. Janet studied at the University of Birmingham between 1967 and 1969 and while she was over here she photographed the streets of Balsall Heath for a photo-essay on inner-city life. During the late 1960s Balsall Heath was Birmingham’s largest red light district, a place of work for some hundreds of prostitutes. Mendelsohn provides an extraordinary insight into these women’s lives, their domestic arrangements and personal relationships as well as the nature of their profession. However, one photograph stands out amongst all the others; it is of a little girl who became known as The Ballerina Girl of Balsall Heath.
In 2012 Jel Singh Nagra named his newsagents shop Singhsbury’s in a jokey bit of banter to entertain his customers. However supermarket chain Sainsbury’s failed to see the funny side and demanded he remove the sign and rename his shop. Mr Nagra explained to Sainsbury’s that his shop was named after his middle name and bury was from Ashbury where his shop was located. Sainsbury’s were having none of it and threatened him with legal action if he didn’t remove the sign. Nearly five years later, Mr Nagra’s customers have encouraged him to come up with a similar name and he has settled on Morrisinghs.
It is time to check down the back of the sofa and in your pockets and purses for a humble fifty pence piece. Some of the coins are said to be worth up to £3,000 while others are said to be worth £20 which is obviously a less impressive figure, but is still better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. So it’s well worth scrambling behind the sofa, checking all the pockets in your home and basically turning your house upside down. But which coins are worth what?
There are some right lunatics around these days but no more so than the one we are about to tell you about. Someone genuinely thought it was necessary to call 999 when they spotted Her Majesty sitting in the back seat of her car – without a seat belt on. Not only was this a bad idea as 999 is strictly reserved for emergencies, but it is also impossible to prosecute the Queen for any offence criminal or civil. The caller was phoning from West Yorkshire so they got through to the local police force, even though the monarch was travelling through London.