Category Archives: Small Town Man

Oh Sod ’em !

A Small Town Man post…

News hitting the nationals this week from sleepy small town Bury St Edmunds. Seems one of the local celebs disapproves of the appointment of the new Dean of St Edmundsbury cathedral because he’s gay. Shock! Horror! How politically incorrect in these enlightened time where we all so willingly embrace diversity!

Which brings me to the picture above. For those of you too young to remember Spitting Image, this is Norman Tebbit. Our Norman is quite a big wig in Bury, famous for kicking a Chinese guy up the arse for letting off fire crackers outside his house as part of the New Year celebrations and telling him to “Bugger off!” As it turns out this phrase brings us rather nicely on to the point of this article.

Norman lives opposite the Cathedral and attends regularly. He also takes his bible seriously, and is adamant that the the new Dean, the Rev Canon Joe Hawes, is a “sodomite” – a biblical term seen as unacceptable by gay people.

He said : “I stand by what is written in the Bible, which is the basis on which the Cathedral was built. It says the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed by God. It cannot be a sin to be born homosexual. It is what one is. What I can’t accept is the activity. I use the expression sodomite. I find it difficult to accept a sodomite as a member of the clergy who will, for example, be called upon to conduct marriage services. I will struggle to attend if he is officiating.”

Needless to say he has been strongly criticised for his comments, but frankly if that’s what the bible says I fail to see how the Church of England can pick and chose what it decides to accept as the word of God and what it choses to ignore. Of course, in Smalltown, we do this all the time…

So good ol’ Norman gets a big thumbs up from me. Good on yer, Norm! Sod ’em!

Our wonderful Christmas Fayre

A Smalltown Man post…

Yes it’s Christmas time again, the time of year when we celebrate by holding our annual Christmas Fayre on Thanksgiving Day. After all, we do have a lot of USAF service men here and we wouldn’t want to upset them.

It was four whole days of merriment last year and, of course, here in Smalltown everything is a resounding success. Failure and mediocrity are simply not tolerated. We’re so lucky to live here!

Last year nobody complained about Santa’s penguins so this year we’ve done it again. And the stalls were all a great success just like the year before, so we’ve done all that again as well. In fact, we’ve done everything again just like last year. If it isn’t broke, then why fix it? At least we know what we’re getting!

But hang on a minute! What can we do in these times of council spending cuts and austerity to make it all just a little bit different? I know! Let’s have a ginormous fireworks display to kick it all off! In fact, let’s make it even better than the one we had a fortnight ago that the public had to pay for on November 5th. Actually, it was jolly good free public display. Did I say free? Well, free to the people from outside town whose council tax wasn’t used to pay for it…

As for us locals, well we can admire the nice new anti-terrorist barriers and the shiny guns of the armed policemen. And we get to drive through town by exciting new routes because all the roads are closed off. Never mind! At least there’s peace and quiet as we batten down the hatches and stay indoors for the next four days contemplating all that lovely online spending for Black Friday and lock ourselves away safe from all the tin rattling chuggers.

Hang on a mo – did I say quiet? I can hear the fairground music from here. Quick! Turn the telly up!

Christmas? Bah! Humbug!..

Victims of our own success

A Smalltown Man post…

Ominous news this week to all of us who live in Smalltown and are so lucky to live here. It seems that according to the “Smalltown Free Press” (available weekly for only £1.50 from your independent local paper shop) we’re in danger of becoming a victim of our own success! Oh dear! What could possibly be wrong in this picture perfect jewel in the English crown?

Well, it seems young people are being priced out of the housing market because everybody wants to live here and it’s forcing up the prices. The Press says we’re in danger of becoming a London dormitory town. Kings Cross is, after all, only two hours away on the chugger line making your door to door commute to work a doddle at about 5 hours a day! How easy is that after all?

Because of this, we need more affordable housing so that single young people can have their very own three bedroom detached starter home. None of this nonsense of pooling resources with a partner, foregoing eating out and going down the pub with our mates, saving up for a deposit and settling for a one bedroom flat in a cheaper part of town like their parents and grandparents had to! Blimey! How twen-cen is that?

The increase in house prices has, of course, nothing to do with the lack of availability of housing because buy to let landlords are cashing in on the rental market. Nor is it due to the two adjacent USAF bases whose personnel are snapping up the local housing and paying through the nose with the mighty dollar. Oh no! Nothing to with that at all!

After all, the Americans are an enormous boost to our local economy! Well, certainly if you’re a buy to let landlord anyway.

God bless the United States of America! We’re so lucky not to live there…

Festival time !

A Smalltown Man post…

Yes, it’s the August bank holiday and, amazingly, the sun is shining even in Smalltown! So it’s time for our annual summer festival. Never mind Notting Hill. Oh no! Our festival is far better than that.

Notting Hill might have street parties, exotic dancers, parades, floats, music and veritable bon homie oozing from every pore of it’s being but we’ve got something much better. Food and drink! The town centre is transformed into a sea of plastic chairs from which, using nothing more complex than a pair of high powered binoculars, you can watch a ‘celebrity’ chef cooking! How exciting is that? Wowza!

And if you don’t fancy playing ‘Guess the Name of the Chef’ then there’s a series of events happening all across town. There are vetted and approved buskers at strategic locations throughout Smalltown – don’t bother auditioning if you’re over 25! We support our talented young entertainers in Smalltown.

Then there’s the various games we’re sponsoring to keep you entertained. Games like ‘The Used Needle Hunt’, ‘Kick the Blind Mans Dog’. ‘Throw a Coin in the Beggars Hat’ and let’s not forget ‘Spot the Indigenous Englishman’. Yes, win a major prize – a luxury one night stay in a local hotel. The second prize is a two night stay!

Never let it be said that in Smalltown we don’t know how to hold a festival. Oh, no! And with all this excitement going on, there’s not a stabbing or serious assault in sight. Well, not many anyway…

From our communities correspondent, Upton Nogood

Gobshite for England

A Smalltown Man post…

Here in Smalltown we’re very proud of our heritage. Oh, yes! Nobody is quite as proud of their heritage as us…

And that’s why we’re waging a campaign to unseat St George as the patron saint of England and replace him with our very own St Gobshite. So why do we feel so strongly about this? Well, the legend of Gobshite tells it’s own story.

Back in medieval times, Flatland was ruled over by the mighty King Flaxen of the Tiptonites who supressed the people with an iron hand whilst keeping the other for feeding his face and fondling the serving wenches. Gobshite, the rightful King of Flatland, raised an army to throw off the yoke of oppression. Around 823 – or just after breakfast – Gobshite’s army joined into battle with the Tiptonites, but despite superior numbers they reckoned without the state of the art weapon of the day, the mighty Tipton longbow – and they were put to flight.

King Gobshite having a really shit day...

King Gobshite having a really shit day…

Flaxen pursued Gobshite and captured him. He was unceremoniously tied to a tree and executed by Flaxen’s archers. Legend has it that Flaxen’s pet wolf, Eingar, stole Flaxen’s golden crown, placed it beside the martyred Gobshite’s body and stood vigil until his people retrieved the body and incarcerated it here in Smalltown.

So moved was Flaxen at this miracle that, after slaying and eating the wolf, he converted to Christianity, handed power back to the Flatlanders and retired to live a pious life of poverty in a simple mud hut in Northland where he remained until his dying day.

Gobshite was later canonised by Pope Pompous II around 1155 or just before lunch. Ironically Flaxen was posthumously awarded the Kings Award for services to Archery.

Clearly, the unbelievable story of St George and the nonexistent Dragon cannot be taken seriously so we believe that the rightful King Gobshite of Flatland, first King of England and Christian martyr must take it’s rightful place. Oh yes, we do!

And did I mention that we’re very proud of our heritage here in Smalltown?