Saturday, 9 August 2025

Letters

I receive literally ZERO letters about my “fascinating” blog. Here are a few letters I’ve not received this week…

Dear Q@Spurn
I’ve been reading this shit for almost six minutes. And I’m not enamoured by it at all. When will I be able to search for bird-related blogs that offer insights into bird-related content?
Mary J Blighted 
Horncastle

Dear Q@Spurn
Whilst shopping the other day I picked up a magazine that offered soft pornography. I don’t even like soft pornography. In fact, no one likes soft pornography. People who are against any sort of pornography are against it, they simply don’t like it, yet people who DO like pornography want much more from their chosen evening reading, involving penises and the like.  Why not ban soft pornography as it merely a compromise between proper pornography and no pornography?
Regards
Esther Ransen.
Harrogate

Dear Q@Spurn
Only the other day, I booked onto an 18-30s holiday. Little do they know I’m thirty right now, but here’s the hilarious bit, I turn thirty-one whilst I’m there! 
I’m a bit worried I may be left out of the activities once I no longer fit into the designated age range as detailed in their T&Cs (Section 8c). As usual, it’s one rule for people who are eligible and one rule for people who are but then won’t be. 
Elton John
Bucks

Dear Q@Spurn
I object in the strongest possible way to the lack of Rice Krispies in my local shop. I went there only four days ago and there was some on the shelf. I didn’t need Rice Krispies at the time. When will shopkeepers actually cater for the customers needs and not concentrate on stupid things like stock rotation and supply and demand? 
Shaun Tits
Hereford. 

Dear Q@Spurn
Whilst drunk on the A15 an extraordinary thing happened.
Kev 
Birmingham

Dear Q@Sourn
I have to say, I don’t really like coons.
Kind Regards
A Hitler 
Stalingrad

Dear Q@Spurn
Every year it seems Christmas items are on sale earlier and earlier due to marketing ploys and media indoctrination. Only the other day I saw Birthday cards on sale and my birthday isn’t until February. 
Kerry Splinter
Basingstoke

Dear Q@Spurn
All day breakfasts? I’d finished mine at 09:30. As usual it’s one rule for people who eat breakfast all day and one for people who don’t. 
Eat breakfast all day that is. 
Colin Occupantsofinterplanetarycrafts
Southampton

Dear Q@Spurn
Tired of going to work? Don’t go on the piss as much as you want to? Simply don’t go to work and go on the piss. Two birds, one stone. 
I think. 
These so called boffins simply are not boffins. 
Maureen Stainpiper
York

Dear Q@Spurn
Have you ever noticed that 80s snooker players are much sexier and sexual than the earlier or later players? Snooker players need to up their game in the sexual stakes. And earlier players that might be dead now should’ve been sexier. 
Sooner.
Does that make sense? 
T Knowles
Bolton

Dear Q@Spurn
Why is it that every self-respecting post that you, erm, post ends up involving sexual 80s snooker player Tony Knowles? There’s other sexual 80s snooker players you know.
Tony Meo
Brighton

Dear Q@Spurn
How come you don’t see jazz mags hid under hedges any more? As usual it’s one rule for people who like jazz mags and another for people who don’t hide them under hedges anymore. 
Auntie Pauline
Chipping Norton

Dear Q@Spurn
In relation to the above letter, I have ask why certain people found the need to hide their jazz mags beneath hedges? Surely there’s lots of places to hide them in the safety of your own home even if you have a wife or partner? 
The whole thing isn’t really an issue now to be honest. 
Shaun Tits
Bath

Dear Q@Spurn
I once stood next to supposed ladies man, Tony Knowles, at a urinal. It wasn’t that big because I stared right at it. 
It was quite a lot bigger than mine though.
It’s just typical if you ask me. 
D Reynolds
Grimsby

Dear Q@Spurn
As an “avid” reader, it is obvious that you are writing these so-called “letters” yourself (plus your team)  In which case, I (you) can simply write whatever I (you) want to!  You handsome, sexy, bastard. 
Sam Fox
Boobsington

Dear Q@Spurn
My cock’s not bad at all I’ll have you know.Its not the biggest, but it’s certainly above average.
Don’t listen to Mr Reynolds in previous letters.
Ive not seen his manhood in person, so I simply cannot retort. 
T Knowles
Bolton

Dear Q@Spurn
Not a-all of the a-80s a-snooker a-players were a-sexy.
A-luckily for a-me, I was a-sexy a-senior.
A Drago
Malta

Dear Q@Spurn
During the epic 1985 World Snooker Final that I won on the deciding black, Steve Davis produced his willy just before he missed the black. It was just a tactic to put me off. Steve would use anything he could as he was a great competitor. He had it out all game once, in the Lada Classic and no one noticed. It didn’t put me off as it wasn’t that big. 
D Taylor
Noyen Irren.

Dear Q@Spurn
Non-stick frying pan? How come the egg stays in the same place in the pan when you’re cooking it then? Until you move it? 
As usual it’s one rule for non-stick frying pan manufacturers and one rule for the the people that use them.
J Oliver
Bingley

Dear Q@Spurn
In response to J Oliver’s letter (above) I totally agree with you. I myself have cooked eggs in a pan and they only move when I move them. Apart from heat convection and Brownian Motion (if you add water). 
Cheers
Sting
Bali

Dear Q@Spurn
Willie Thorne had the biggest cock out of any 80s snooker players. He just laughed when Blake’s Seven was on. 
“Willies eight-and-a-half more like” he used to chuckle.  
N Foulds
Dewsbiry

Dear Q@Spurn
I’m always unsure as to what actual size “party-sized” things should be.  The reference “party” advertises them as over-the-top, massive fun times, but in my experience they’re usually a lot smaller than the usual confectionery. 
As usual, it’s one rule for confectionery advertisers and another for people who buy them and are disappointed. 
Jan Dildo
Sunderland

Dear Q@Spurn
I’d put Peter Ebdon up there, but he wasn’t 80s, thinking about it. 
From the 80s, Terry Griffiths was underestimated. Not that long but good girth to be honest. 
K Stevens
Toronto

Dear Q@Spurn
I’ve seen Tony Knowles pot a red with his cock. 
Using the rest!
Beat that.
T Knowles
Bolton

Dear Q@Spurn
All this talk about sexual 80s snooker players and their penises is frankly childish and  bringing the game down. 
But, to be clear, the following is fact. 
Cocks (on the slack)
1 Willie Thorne
2 Doug Mountjoy
3 Tony Knowles
4 Mike Hallet 
5 Len Ganly

End of.
Fact.
Yours etc
C Thorburn
Toronto

Dear Q@Spurn
With regards to Mr T Knowles of Bolton’s claim to have potted a red with his cock (with the rest!) I have to say it wasn’t quite as easy as that. He had to serve it a little around the blue this making him cock down on the white which is even more impressive.
Kind Regards
Joe Johnson
Bradford

Dear Q@Spurn
I once asked Len Ganly (dark horse) for an extension whilst using the rest but in no way could I have reached that with my penis. 
With or without an extension. 
As usual it’s one rule for sexual 80s snooker players that have the ability (length) to do such a thing and one rule for everyone else. 
And surely it’s a foul? 
Four away. 
W. Werbernuick
Toronto

Dear Q@Spurn
In answer to Mr Werbernuick’s question, the “Player” has to make contact with the cue ball with his “tip”. Anything else is a foul. 
Four away. 
Although the word “tip” is a little open to interpretation, hence Mr T Knowles actions in previous snooker events? The mind boggles. 
Phil Collins
Toronto.

Dear Q@Spurn
These young Chinese so-called snooker stars coming through are letting traditions go. 
If you ask me. 
Not many of them have even average-sized willies due to their race and upbringing.
Yours 
John Parrott
Crewe 



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Friday, 13 June 2025

Song Sparrow! In Yorkshire!

People at Christmas: Don’t say Christmas Day “falls funny this year, It’s midweek, so you get a weekend then Christmas then another weekend”. What’s funny about that? Then in three to four years tine you’ll be saying “it falls funny this year, you get Christmas at weekend then there’s a full week and it’s New Year on the next weekend”. I don’t want to hear it anymore. What difference does it make apart from the date you finish then start work again? 

It doesn’t get much better honestly…

Cat litter doesn’t taste very nice, like.


You know the old one that all Chinese tourists in London who get a cab always end up in Harrow? Well, they all ended up at Tooting Common when they were trying to get to the  Tutankhamen exhibition apparently. During covid they wanted to go clap the NHS on a Thursday and ended in Cwapham. Taxi drops off a Chinese guy to meet Trump and Putin for talks, he only asked to go to Quiz Two Powers and ended up at Selhurst Park.

Not bad that one. Thanks to Pauline for sending that in. 


Very poor indeed. 


They say “No news is good news” 
but, like, if someone gets swept out to sea, 
after four days I reckon the lack of news 
is a right fucker if you ask me. 
So I think this old wives tale is a latderbollox like

Chinese guy books a posh hotel with underfloor heating. Tells driver “Hotel please”. 

“Which hotel?”

“Hotel. Warm Floor”

“Ah, Romford B&B. The A187 is closed today though so I’ll have to go round the harrrziz………….”

Very poor indeed. You’re wasting your time. 


“Save time in the morning before going 

to a movie set like me, by putting 

cornflakes in a bowl and putting 

the milk on the night before. 

The cornflakes go all mushy though. 

And you just bin the fuckers like. 

And, thinking about it, it costs 

the same amount of time the night

 before plus your pre-prepared

 breakfast is inedible so my 

Jimmy Nails Top Tip is to not do any of that, like”. 



I use a spirit level when laying bricks.
 It tells you if it’s level. 
Well, if they’re level, like 


A Wasp landed on me futtin leg like, 

so I waved my hand sort of over

 the futter and it flew off like.

 No one was harmed. Does that count like, 

cos I’m running out of time and 

I’ve gotta go meet Sting for a chinwag 


So, a Song Sparrow no less! In Yorkshire! I went and looked right at it. 


Right at it. 


Sunday, 12 January 2025

Twitching!

Today I awoke with Paul Youngs subliminal classic “Every Time You Go Away” in my head. The old joke about the song  being a Butchers shop favourite of course entered proceedings, so I strutted around the house singing Every Time You Go Away, you take a piece of meat with you… much to my childish amusement. The kids unanimously agreed “Dads off his fucking head again…”

Yesterday, it was Eighties TV ads (that got stuck in my head). It all started with “The champion Mushy Peas - that’s these! Batch batch batch Batchelors! The champion Mushy Peas!” I couldn’t get it out of my head. 

Has any other or my reader(s) ever awoken with an eighties advertisement jingle regarding Mushy Peas before? We’d LOVE to hear from you if you have. 

Then, on HOOVERING (it’s fucking hoovering, yes, I realise it’s a trade name that has become a colloquialism in everyday life, but that’s how it’s become to be known. NOT vacuuming. No way, sir. A bit like spam. That’s different actually. Chimley. Instead of Chimney. Chimley IS a word) I became obsessed with Eighties hoover-in scented carpet cleaner/freshener Shake ‘n’ Vac. Note to self: Parentheses way too long: reader may not follow. 

“You do the shake n vac and put the freshness back, do the shake n vac and put the freshness back. If your carpet smells fresh, your room does too! Every time you vacuum (bah) remember what to do, you do the shake n vac and put the freshness back”. 

Two things about this. 

1) Has anyone ever had that pop in their head when they’re NOT hoovering?

2) The lyric “If your carpet smells fresh, your room does too…” is genius! Who, in their right mind, would offer that up as a catchy jingle? I don’t know, but it’s worked, as I still remember it! 

3) There is no number three.

Grey Headed Lapwing Northumberland. Been in the country maybe c.28 days? First time around, I got within an hour of it but had to sack it off due to alcoholism. This time around, I was determined! Determined. I am the quickest twitcher off the mark. If some big news breaks, I just go insane to get there. So when news broke that it was back at East Chevington I decided to set off some twenty days later and you know how twitchers like to get there near dawn? Well dawn was around seven (I haven’t got a clue tbh) so if I set off at four, three hours there, half hour with the bird, three hours home, I’m home at 1030 to conduct more tests on the ex. True to form, shit-hot twitcher, I arrived on site at 1150am, around ten minutes before the afternoon was due to begin. 

I saw it though. It was, like, proper good. And that. The next day it was nowhere to be seen. Or the next. 

Maybe it’s dead.



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