2 NOVEMBER 1991, Page 60

12 YEAR OLD

COMPETITION

12 YEAR OLD SCOTCH WHISKY

Utterly astonishing

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1700 you were asked to imagine that our editor has invited someone utterly astonishing to write the Diary, and to provide an extract.

Pamella Bordes, Mark Thatcher, Jocky Wilson, Ian Paisley, Madonna, Derek Hat- ton, Steven Berkoff, Fergie — what a jolly team photograph your diarists would make. Sitting cross-legged in the front row I see Reggie Kray (`First the bad news. This week's Spectator arrives, and my sonnet isn't in, is it? Maybe I did wrong to use an alias. . .') and Lord Screaming Sutch (`Ever noticed how many parliamen- tary seats there are? There's Settle, Benn has Chesterfield, Owen has Davenport. If there's one called Sofa, it's mine!). The surprizewinners (Enough. Ed.) printed be- low get £16 each, and the bonus bottle of Chivas Regal 12-year-old de luxe blended whisky goes to Noel Petty.

John Prescott Pushing my trolley round the local supermarket in my constituency last weekend, I found con- siderable difficulty in getting it to go the way I wanted it to, a difficulty which increased as the trolley grew heavier. Not only was I in some danger of straining my thigh and back muscles, but there was a decided hazard to other shop- pers. Improperly maintained rolling stock like this is a menace to the public, and a savage

indictment of the laissez-faire attitude privately-owned transport systems which have increasingly seen over the past twelve years. Later, walking the dog along the towPatll of a disused canal, I counted no less than eleven submerged supermarket trolleys. It is time we had a properly organised inspectorate. I hear reports of a spate of collisions betwee.n kiddies on tricycles and concrete gate-posts na the Isle of Wight. How many such accidents

must we have before. . . (Noel petty) Ian McCaskill My obsession with the weather started when I was a wee boy. It would be too wet to plaY outside or we would be going on a picnic if it was fine. When I was seven, I got sunstroke. fa Scotland! Everything seemed to depend on the elements. Today the sound of the coastal sta. to we tions is music to my ears. Michael Fish calls me a romantic, but there is magic in Tyree, Rockall, MaIlin Head, Viking, Forth, German Bight.

Therefore an invitation to visit my old friend Fergus in Cromarty proved irresistible. I set out In the autumnal anti-cyclonic gloom with only an occasional break in the clouds throughout the long drive. According to Fergus the A832 runs through glorious mountain and sea-loch scenery. I take his word for it. On my return precipitation was within sight. Plus pa change! Michael Fish says I'm an optimist because I now plan a trip to

the Faroes. (Ba Miller) Paul Gascoigne It's a load of crap, isn't it? I mean, it's just a load of crap. All I want to do is get on with my life, and I've got these photographers and everybody Who never leave me alone. This week I've had Photo calls every day. Every bloody day, man. Do this, do that. I'm sick of it, I am. Sometimes I think, sod the money. They never think about my old Mam and my bad knee and all. I mean, what's the world corning to? You go out clubbing and you pour a Pint of Newcastle Brown over some bloke's head or feel up a tart, just for a laugh like, and next thing you're in all the papers. How would they like it, eh?

Still, I'm not complaining. I'm off to Italy soon, that's in Europe. Here, have you heard the one about the Italian tanks with five reverse gears? That's a cracker, that.

They should have more like that in this mag. They sent me a copy, just to get the idea like, and half the cartoons are bloody pointless. Then there's no real pictures, like in the Sun. But I'll tell you one thing: compared to football, this writing lark's a piece of piss.

(Basil Ransome-Davies) Judge Pickles Say what you like about Colonel Gaddafi, he does have some bright ideas. To combat the sawfly, which lays its eggs in sheep, the Tuni- sians sterilise hatches of male flies and let them loose on the unsuspecting females, who proceed to lay dud eggs, or ova fatua. - This policy should be tried without delay in those areas of the world where the birth rate is dangerously high. Did you know that the aver- age Algerian wife produces ten children? Apart from its relevance to them, Colonel Gaddafi's policy might forestall such nonsense as the performance of Ms Anita Hill, who after an interval of ten years starts complaining about the length of Judge Clarence Thomas's penis. And we should hear less about sexual harassment. I have known women who, if they were not harassed, called me a 'pouf.

(Richard Blomfield) Ken Livingstone I've never found the British Museum particular- ly congenial. For me all that porcelain and silver serves solely to illustrate the unceasing rapacity of the ruling classes. Furthermore, I am invari- ably disappointed that the literature concerning the exhibits is as short on specifics as post- Thatcherite policy documents.

One apparent exception to this is Lindon Man, Britain's first victim of homicide. Because after 3,000 years this unhappy corpse managed to keep his nails clipped and trimmed, Museum Forensics have claimed him as one of the aristocracy. So now this unfortunate individual must suffer eternity as one of the crudest and earliest examples of class stereotyping.

It makes me wonder just who are 'Museum Forensics'? Have they engaged the West Mid- lands serious crime squad? And if so, I am surprised that there is not an Irishman arrested and charged with murder.

(Kevin Ryan)