Tag Archives: unsuitable humour

The Daily Thought

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If you started a sports team, what would the colors and mascot be?

I needed something to get me going so I thought I’d try the daily thought as it’s a subject that was once very close to my heart.

I’ve been associated with several start-ups, particularly in the field of rugby league (which is the minority rugby code in the UK, and often tries to expand). There is often more thought given to stuff like this rather than funding and other basic building blocks and there was one local start-up that involved a name, loan of a venue, money raised for shirts, a couple of matches (hosted by Nottingham Outlaws) and . . . oblivion. I told him not to let the kids take their match shirts home. It’s a pain washing the kit but at least you get to keep it together.  After the two matches they never did get get the team, or the shirts, back together.

You have to be very careful with this sort of thing, as Coventry Bears found. Now, I like Coventry Bears. But having said that, I also have a few old scores to settle. Fortunately my parents brought me up better than that. After an internal struggle I am merely going to point out that a bear is a big fierce creature, well-suited to being the mascot of a rugby team. It is also, for those of you who have led a sheltered life, a name for a particular subsection of gay culture.

According to Wikipedia “a bear is a larger and often hairier man who projects an image of rugged masculinity”.

It probably tells you something about my basic attitudes that I found it funny that Coventry Rugby League club was sharing its name with a group of people that produced some interesting internet search results. (Sorry if it offends anyone, but I was born in the 1950s and find amusement in things which are today found to be insensitive).

Anyway, there you go. I don’t know what I’d do about colours and mascots, but I do know that I’d do a thorough internet search before I decided anything.

Outlaws Play the Ball

Nottingham Outlaws RLFC – founded 1999. The name is or has also used by a BMX Club, a Cricket Club, a camera club, an ice hockey team a speedway team and is now in use for county badminton too. I’m not entirely sure who used it first, though I do note that two of the later users of the name seem to have cunningly omitted details of their earlier names to imply that they used it before we did.

Views expressed in this blog, are my own and do not represent the views of other individuals or organisations that may be mentioned or depicted. Just thought I’d better mention that.

 

The Titles That Never Were

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I just loaded this by accident, which shows what sort of trouble you can get into when you’re blogging. It’s ironic, since the post is partly about the trouble I could get into from Julia if I posted some of these unsuitable drafts. Fortunately it was ready to go, though it was intended for Tuesday morning.

If I tell you I still have posts about Free Range Rats and Hitler and Birdwatching in the pipeline you’ll get some idea of where I draw the line.

Julia draws it in a slightly different place. Which is why you won’t be seeing the following posts.

Nursery Crime: I was saving that for a blog about horrible young visitors to the Ecocentre, but as we were ejected from the centre and no longer deal with schools I don’t think I’ll be needing it. It’s a shame, but it didn’t take much creative effort to adopt a Genesis song title.

My Life and Times in the Urology Ward: It starts when I walk into the wrong clinic – mistaking  genitourinary and urology. Easy mistake if you don’t have medical training. As a general rule, a room filled with middle-aged men looking embarrassed is urology. A room filled with youngish people of both sexes looking shifty is genitourinary. After that, the tone of the piece goes downhill.

Cheap Toilet Rolls – The Curse of Modern Society: Julia has vetoed this one. I’ve edited it several times to make it more socially acceptable but she remains intransigent. To aficionados of  toilet humour this will surely rank alongside Shakespeare’s Cardenio, Love’s Labour Won or the musical version of Macbeth as a lost gem. Oh yes, there (probably) was one. Thomas Middleton is thought to have edited it in 1615 to allow more time for musical interludes, because nothing says tragedy like a musical interlude.

 

Explaining my few days off

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Sorry about the lack of posts over the last few days. I knew I was going away for a long weekend and had intended writing posts in advance so there wouldn’t be a large gap.

Fate, however, intervened. Planning tends to be hit or miss with me; I’m often very organised. But if I’m not very organised I tend to be very disorganised – there’s rarely a middle way.

All the arrangements were in place for a visit to Norfolk and Suffolk to see family and I had set time aside to write a couple of posts to fill the time while I was away. Then what happened? Let’s just say that it was medical. Embarrassingly medical. Some years ago I said to a friend of mine, after a couple of visits to Male Urology and the insertion of a camera into an orifice definitely not designed for cameras, that it would be nice to visit the doctor and be able to keep my trousers on.

“You’re in your forties,” he said in a resigned voice, “get used to it. That and the fact you’ll never be able to hear the snapping of latex gloves without wincing.”

I didn’t know what he meant at the time, a state of innocence that lasted until my first prostate examination. It’s difficult to discuss without overstepping the boundaries of good taste but let’s just say that whether you believe in Evolution or Intelligent Design, you’d have thought that a small trap door would have been a more elegant solution…

Anyway, I’m not cured but I am at least able to sleep for several hours without my bladder waking me up, and I’m down for another trip to Male Urology. I’m hoping that camera technology will have advanced a little in the field of miniaturization.

Male Urology is comedy gold, I promise you. I am already grinning at the memories. Unfortunately, it isn’t tasteful so it will remain A Story That Cannot Be Told.

In the meantime I will compose a post that actually has something to do with Life of a Care Farm in Nottinghamshire, as the title says.

Watch this space.