April 2019 - Issue no. 270
WE'VE ONLY GONE AND DONE IT YAYYY!

We've only gone and bloomin' dun nit haven't we?

Survived yet another dastardly Winter. The clocks haven gone forward, so this is it. Spring is in the air, and fingers crossed, we have another wonderful Summer ahead of us....

Another thing that’s just struck me that I can never get my head around is bus timetables. On rare occasions, I ever have cause to pick one up (which is usually on holiday, in order to get back from somewhere I’ve just trekked to)  I can never make head nor tail of them. What’s more, they often tend to be thick little booklets containing vast amounts of indecipherable information, when all I usually want to know is how often the bleedin’ number 52 runs.

Who writes these poxy things? And do they ever get the weekend and Bank Holiday information correct?

I’ve just had a gander online at what are reckoned to be the 10 best things to do in Chelmsford and, quite honestly, I’m not even remotely interested in looking at, or visiting, any of the things suggested. Which says an awful lot about supposedly Essex’s number one town/city, wouldn't you say?

No, I don’t know what’s come over me either. But I would honestly like to wish all of you regular Edge readers (and sod all those who merely dip in and out of the mag every now and then) a stonkingly good Crimbo.

What I’ve been banging on about for the past couple of years seems to have finally come to fruition. Chelmsford town/city centre has reached gridlock proportions, certainly so far as Saturday afternoons are concerned.


THE WORD OF ROMESH “My wife’s a wonderful woman. She deserves the very best. It’s just I can’t be arsed to do enough about it to get it for her.”

25 YEAR ANNIVERSARY:  Do you realise it’s 25 years since wife Lorena cut off husband John Wayne Bobbitt’s ‘bobbitt’ in a fit of pique with an 8-inch carving knife?
Ex-marine Bobbitt was quoted as saying at the time, “Aw, it’s just a scratch.” Now that is what you call being HARD

And for all those of you not in the slightest bit interested in the footie, you do realise that the 2018-19 Premiership season resumes with an evening kick-off - yes, an evening kick-off - on Friday 10th August, don’t you? Only no, I don’t suppose you do.

Spotted a notice in a dentists the other day that read: Specialists in oral health. Nothing wrong with that. Only the word ‘health’ was on the line below, so it certainly made me do a double-take.

RATTLE PARKS
The words Retail Park are soooo last year.
So in future, readers, whenever you are thinking about paying Riverside or Chelmer Village or the new Clock Tower Retail Parks a visit, you are now planning a trip to a Rattle Park instead, got it? And your kids will be all the more excited about a trip/adventure there too.

Mmmmmmmm!

Sainsbury’s Taste the Difference Buttermilk Crumpets with Anchor butter and St. Dalfour raspberry jam on top, with a couple of slices of extra-strong vintage cheddar cheese.

BEST DAY OF THE WEEK: I heard something on the radio about Fridays being ‘the second best day of the week’. Really? So far as I’m concerned, it’s the best day of the week, as the weekend’s all in front of you and I oh so love my Friday nights (even though all I pretty much do with ’em these days is drink too much red wine and watch Gogglebox).

I picked a discarded train ticket up off the floor just before I entered Costa Coffee outside Chelmsford railway station the other day, as hey, that’s the kind of guy I am (I honestly detest litter), only I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read what was printed on it.

It was a peak travel first-class return ticket between Chelmo and Liverpool Street and the price was an astronomical fifty quid.
Jeez, you’d think people who can afford that sort of money would be folks of a certain standing in life, wouldn’t you?

Rather than common litter louts.

Why is it that most British people seem to have no trouble whatsoever pronouncing the French car manufacturer Renault as Renowe, yet when it comes to ordering a croissant, dear oh dear. It isn’t crossont. It’s quason.

Was enjoying a sausage sandwich with plenty of HP sauce the other Saturday morning, when all of a sudden the washing machine ended its cycle. “Allow me to attend to the niceties of hanging up the whites to dry,” I said to my missus. Only a bit later, upon inspection, the wife was puzzled to see that not all of the stains appeared to have come out of the tea towels. Or her knickers. Or.... And it was then that the penny dropped and I was in for yet another bollocking. The moral of this story is: always wash your hands before you hang any washing up/out to dry after a sausage sarnie.

EVERY NOW & THEN

Not often. Not very often at all, come to think of it, which is sad. Really sad. But every now and then, if you’re lucky, you come across a person who is just so worthwhile and has so simply ‘got it’ - that special, indefinable elixir that makes you instantly understand that you are not alone in this world after all, and that it is really not your fault, or problem, that most other people are just so damned annoyingly normal, with so very little to offer, that you sometimes end up feeling quite desperately out-of-sorts. So thank you very much indeed, Carol.

FWESH FWOM CHINA

Received an email from KJ Gao recently, who informed me that he (or maybe it’s a she?) spe- cialises in tungsten alloy fishing sinkers. Hmmm, I definitely think it’s a ‘he’.  KJ (Knobjockey?) said: “Now we can supply you with tungsten alloy fishing sinkers and tungsten alloy fishing balls which we manufacturer from our own moulds.” This email somehow reached The Edge from China, if you hadn’t already guessed.

 always get a little bit perplexed when I see someone driving around, usually gingerly, usually female (as us males wouldn’t dream of advertising the fact that we’re not fully qualified/adequate in any way, shape or form) with a white and green P-plate - for ‘probationary’ - stuck to the back of their car

It’s amazing the obscenities that a mere trip to Sainsbury’s can elicit from my mouth.

I think I was a bit harsh on Joanna Lumley in the June issues. I know she reads The Edge, so frankly, it’s been playing on my mind.

If you read a bit about it, Jihad is supposedly not a violent concept, nor is it a declaration of war against other religions. 

I actually got called a twat by someone who works in Asda the other day. Yes, readers, by a member of Asda staff

OK, so Thailand. This, my most recent trip, must have been my sixth visit to The Golden Kingdom, although sadly it will probably go down as my least memorable.

I heard a lad comment to his girlfriend that someone had clearly “dropped their guts” on the upper tier of T.K.Maxx the other Saturday. Trouble is, I’ve now reached the age where I honestly can’t recall whether it was me?

Have you ever heard anyone say, “Oh, that’s a wonderful fleece you’re wearing?” No, me neither.

Jane Rowland sent me this, which I thought was pretty perky:- “I can only sleep on stacks of old Edge magazines. I’ve got back issues.”

Sad to see actor Peter Vaughan pop his clogs at the ripe old age of 93 towards the end of 2016. You may remember he played the part of legendary villain Grouty alongside Ronnie Barker in Porridge, and before that Robert Lindsay’s  girlfriend’s dad in Citizen Smith back in the late seventies, amongst many other fine roles. I’m surprised he never got to star as a James Bond villain as he was superb at the deadpan stare and he’d have looked imperial with his white hair stroking a white cat on his lap.

RAILWAY STATION: Despite what I informed you of last month, if you’re a commuter, you can now pick up a copy of The Edge from Puccino’s on platform one at Chelmsford station and get yourselves a nice hot brew into the bargain!

Chelmsford railway station does look greatly improved these days, doesn’t it? But it would be even better if you could get a copy of The Edge there.
Sadly, you’ve got Metro to thank for that, who won’t allow any other publications to have a look in, due to the contract they’ve signed (one must
assume) with Abellio Greater Anglia. The question begs, what are they scared of?

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The Edge is a local magazine/fanzine for Chelmsford Essex thats has been running for many years. Regular features include: Current Affairs, Local News & Entertainment.

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