Saturday, 28 February 2009

Come Dine with Me - Day 5

Yesterday evening was the final day in my 'Come Dine With Me' competition, and Beaver Hateman's turn to cook for us all.

We all had to traipse over to the rickety'castle' of Badfort. There are hundreds of rooms, many with the roofs falling in, and all the passages are piled with rubble and broken glass.

At least Beaver had made some effort to tidy up the Great Hall of Badfort. The debris and detritus had been cleared away and he had even managed to put a fairly clean table cloth on their large feasting bench.

"There you go mates!" said Beaver, throwing down a plate of food and a tankard of Black Tom for each of his guests, "Scob Fish on toast with a Black Tom Sauce! - Tuck in!"

My stomach churned - it looked absolutely disgusting. The ugly, oily, fish was swimming in a nasty dark grey mess.

There was a smirk on Beavers face. He knew that the diktats of polite society meant that we would be unable to refuse his obnoxious concoction.

Warily, I put a morsel in my mouth.

It was delicious! - I immediately felt a warm glow enveloping my stomach.

"Well, Beaver I am overcome" said Cheapman "It really is rather splendid!"

"I must agree" remarked Wizard Blenkinsop "Quite exquisite!"

"Marvelous!" added Gleamhound "The flavours just keep hitting you!"

"Wot you got to say then, Unc!" sniggered Beaver.

"I have to admit," I said reluctantly "That beneath your gruff exterior there is clearly the sensitivity of a culinary genius - I am quite taken aback"

"Right, and that's only the start of the evenings entertainments - I and my compatriots will now treat you to a few renditions of great revolutionary songs!" crowed Beaver.

Having to sit through their raucous declarations, that the revolution was nigh, was a low point - but having been so well fed we felt it would be churlish to complain.

At the end of the evening came the time for the marking. The highest scorer would be declared the winner and receive the £1,000 for charity that I had offered as the prize.

My evening was the first to be scored. "Ten for Uncle, of course." said the Wizard. "Oh Yes, definitely a ten." said Cheapman. "Yes a ten from me, Sir. said Gleamhound. "One!" said Beaver "He did nought - he got his minion Mig to do all the cooking!"

I have to admit I was more than a little angry at that remark - I had spent a long time preparing the evenings events.

This gave me a score of thirty one.

Next we marked Wizard Blenkinsop. "A magical meal - without a doubt a ten." I said. "Hmmm not quite as good as Uncle's - I'll give you a nine." said the Cheapman. "Yes, a nine!" said Gleamhound. "One!" declared Beaver "Using magic is just plain cheatin'"

This gave the Wizard a score of twenty nine.

Then we marked Cheapman. "Splendid meal - I'll give you a Ten" I said. "Not bad - I'll give you a nine" said the Wizard. "Very good, a nine!" said Gleamhound. "One!" shouted Beaver "He just shoved a load of stuff off his shelves and into the cooker!"

This gave Cheapman a score of twenty nine.

Marking Gleamhound was tricky - his intentions were clearly good but he had made us all ill. "I can only give you five, I'm afraid." said the Wizard. "I was sick all evening - the most I could give is four." said Cheapman. "I shall give you ten," I declared "for I know that it was a misunderstanding."

"I cannot understand what could have gone wrong?" muttered Gleamhound.

"None!" screamed Beaver "The old coot tried to poison us!".

This gave Gleamhound a score of only nineteen.

I was in the lead, but it was now time to mark Beaver.

"I have to give Beaver ten - it was a culinary delight" said the Wizard. "Definitely a ten, unfortunately." said Cheapman "Gastronomically it was outstanding . "A ten from me too, my tummy still feels warm, all over,from that delightful meal." said Gleamhound.

Everyone looked at me expectantly, knowing that if I gave Beaver nil I could still win.

For making us listen to those rebel dirges all evening he deserved a nil mark - but, of course, I could not appear churlish.

"Yes, a ten from me." I said reluctantly "Beaver has shown the most impressive culinary skills."

"Top marks!" cried Beaver "I win - thats a grand you owe me! Unc!"

"I hope you use it wisely" I said, barely able to believe I was, actually, handing over cash to Hateman.

"Oh yes, mate - this is going straight into the fund for impoverished revolutionaries!"

I could feel myself reddening with anger "Come, Old Monkey - we must get back to Homeward to help the really needy!" I snapped.

Later that evening, I was just regaining my composure when A.B.Fox, my detective, asked to see me.

"I think you should see this, boss" he said - and put on a videotape.

"I took the liberty of setting up surveillance cameras at the locations of your various dinners this week. In case Beaver tried anything on." he added.

The tape showed Beaver sneaking into Gleamhound's laboratory during the night of our dining. He could be seen taking a bottle from the shelf and putting in in his swag bag.

"What has he stolen?" I asked.

"It's a bottle of Indigestion Producer (for enemies), Sir, I think that might explain why you all found Beaver's meal, this evening, so wonderful. He must have added it to the Black Tom sauce." replied A.B.

Of course! all Gleamhound's concoctions have the reverse effect, that is why it seemed so good!

I have been tricked.

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Friday, 27 February 2009

Come Dine with Me - Day 4

A most peculiar evening and, I have to say, a complete disaster!

It was Gleamhound's turn to cook for my 'Come Dine With Me' competition.

As we arrived he ushered us into his laboratory.

His laboratory is enormous; in fact it seems to take up almost the whole house.

"We shall be dining here tonight," he declared, with glee, "for this is where I have prepared the nights gastronomic delights!"

Our hearts fell.

Gleamhound makes medicines for a living. They are all very good, but they act the wrong way – having the opposite effect to that desired.

He is perfectly bald, and wears immensely strong glasses over his inflamed eyes. He has been using his own hair restorer and eye salve for years.

Anything cooked up in his laboratory was bound to be somewhat suspect.

An intense, meaty smell filled the air as we walked into the laboratory.

"Using rigorous scientific method I have developed some recipes based on sound chemical principles - I call it 'Molecular Gastronomy'" Gleamhound explained.

"First we must all drink some Green tea - it has astringent polyphenols that help get the saliva going,' he insisted.

The first course was a bowl of Seaweed Slasher Porridge. I was pleasantly surprised by the interesting flavours of the seaside that it contained. This was followed by pistachio scrambled egg, Stingo Steak poached with liquorice and Pommes neuf with a hint of hay. A bottle of chocolate wine accompanied the meal.

We then had a Miserberry mousse 'poached' at the table in liquid nitrogen. Looking like a tiny meringue, the frozen puffball popped and melted in the mouth.

We were all most surprised at the range of exquisite tastes in the meal - clearly Gleamhound's expertise in the laboratory had improved.

"And now, my pièce de résistance!" cried out Gleamhound excitedly "Flaming Global Globules! They are extremely difficult to produce and it has taken me many weeks of experiment to perfect the recipe. You have to boil arnica and lime in equal parts for the third of a day, thoroughly souse with rinsings from an old nitre vat, then pour in one oz peppermint. Reduce to a jelly, and with great speed whirl in a hot aluminium pan, taking care to avoid direct sunbeams. Then lightly rub in flaked rice, ginger, rhubarb and orris root, in the proportions of 6-313/8 – 9 and 271/8, at the same time shaking in equal portions of boiled candy and lemon curd. Set alight and serve."

The flaming Globules were certainly spectacular, if a little scary in their combustion, and it has to be said they tasted quite incredible. I felt I had to congratulate Gleamhound for his sterling work.

"Well done Gleamhound! - I admit I had some doubts about these rather peculiar dishes but these Global Globules are quite extraordinary!"

"Yes," said Gleamhound "I think that it is the soupcon of my Stomach Joy medicine that I put in that really adds a little piquancy to the dish."

"Oh no - not Stomach Joy!" cried Cheapman.

Almost immediately we all began to feel the most awful stomach cramps. For, Stomach Joy is supposed to cure all forms of indigestion - but, of course, has the reverse effect.

"Oh my gawd!" cried Beaver 'the old nutters gawn and poisoned us all!"

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Thursday, 26 February 2009

Come Dine with Me - Day 3

Last night, Cheapman was the next person in my 'Come Dine With Me' competition to entertain us.

"I have decided not to prepare anything special for this evening" he announced at the start of our meal.

I was somwhat disappointed, I must say.

"I am merely going to serve you the banquet special offer meal, available in my own store, for only ten shillings per head. I think, however, that by the end of the supper you will agree that this is not just food - this is Cheapman's food!" he declared.

We started with traditionally cured Water-Step Hill Lake gravlax salmon with creamy mustard and dill sauce. This was followed by hand prepared Whooshmeat with apple and sage stuffing wrapped in maple cured bacon, butter cabbage (one of Butterskin Mute's specialties) with apples and cranberry slow braised in red wine and tawny port sauce, and golden roast parsnips coated with wild flower honey and wholegrain mustard dressing.

For pudding we had Jungle Cake, a rough cake full of dates and nuts, steeped in cognac.

This was, indeed, a very special dessert as each of them contained a gold coin with my head on one side and Cheapman's on the other.

For those still hungry, there were Scander biscuits with a selection of Badgertown cheeses.

"Well, I must say that meal is remarkably good value" I told Cheapman "Even, given your reputation for supplying a bargain!"

To be honest, I find it rather galling that, somehow, he manages to sell goods cheaper than my own stores!

"Yeah, not bad mate!" declared Beaver, stuffing his face with cheese and biscuits, "But I would have preferred a drop of Black Tom to wash it down with - rather than that poncey 1787 Chateau Lafite - tasted mouldy to me!"

What can one say? - the man is a philistine.

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Wednesday, 25 February 2009

Come Dine with Me - Day 2

Yesterday evening, it was Wizard Blenkinsop's turn to provide a sumptuous banquet for the contenders in my 'Come Dine With Me' competition.

At first, I was a somewhat put out.

The wizard had decided that, as it was Shrove Tuesday, all we would have to eat was pancakes!

I did not feel that this really constituted a meal - nor involved much effort on the Wizards part.

Of course, I should have known better.

On my first bite I slipped into a remembrance of a wonderful day, that the Old Monkey and I had, climbing Watercress Tower. Immediately, my mouth filled with the paradoxical pleasures of the peppery coolness of a watercress sandwich. I could feel the freshness of spring water running between my toes.

The Old Monkey, meanwhile, insisted that he felt the unbounded joy of swinging through the trees and filling his mouth with wild berries.

"That is the whole point of these pancakes!" declared the Wizard "They are magical," he explained, "As you eat, they bring back your most treasured memories, the taste, the smell and the feel of a time when you were most happiest!"

Well, I must admit - it was a most impressive dining experience.

Then Beaver had to spoil it all.

"Cor! I can taste the Black Tom we guzzled on that joyous day when we trapped you in that cage! Bloomin' marvelous - one of the greatest days in our struggle against your despotic rule!" he wept.

I have three more evenings of his company to endure.

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Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Come Dine with Me - Day 1

As you know, I held a charity auction for an evening of fine dining with yours truly.

I was not best pleased to find that the winner of the auction was Beaver Hateman.

I don't know how he found the money - I suppose he still has a lot of cash left over from the 'relief' funds he was given by The Screen Actors Guild.

I could not bear the idea of having to spend the whole evening with the detestable fellow so I invited a select group of my friends to dine with us.

I felt sure that Wizard Blenkinsop, Gleamhound, and Mister Cheapman would provide sufficient erudite company to distract me from Beaver's appalling table manners.

Gleamhound brought a bottle of his Jubba Fruit wine - a splendid aperitif, and Cheapman brought a giant box of Turkish Delight (only 2/6d at his stores). Everyone was on splendid form, and Wizard Blenkinsop regaled us with some magical tricks.

Then Beaver arrived - riding a donkey! He always has to draw attention to himself.

My chef, Mig the dwarf, had created a culinary feast.

We started with a delightful pumpkin consomme followed by Mig's signature dish - oxy-acetylene roasted oxen. This was all washed down with casks of lemonade. We finished with a huge banana cake, built like a castle, that my guests could walk through whilst cutting slices with their knives.

"Not a bad feast, Unc!" said Beaver "Not as good as the grub at Badfort, mind you!"

At this, my guests protested. "No one lays on a feast like Uncle" declared Cheapman.

"Well if you like simple fare, I suppose it's O.K." jeered Beaver.

I decided to call his bluff.

"I propose that each guest here tonight prepare a dinner party, on consecutive evenings this week, that we all attend - we shall then vote on who threw the best party. Furthermore I shall give £1,000 to a charity chosen by the winner!" I declared.

"Right mate - your on! I'll show you fine dining!" laughed Beaver.

"I don't know how I could ever manage to improve on tonights extravaganza - but I shall certainly try!" said Cheapman.

"I shall try to provide a magical evening!" cried Wizard Blenkinsop.

"I'm sure that I can mix something up in my laboratory!" cried Gleamhound. This remark was a little worrying - it is well known that Gleamhound's cure-alls inevitably have the reverse effect.

"I think you have little to worry yourself, Sir, I cannot imagine that any one of them can compete with your hospitality" murmured the Old Monkey as the fireworks began and the roaming minstrels, I had hired for the evening, commenced playing.

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Monday, 23 February 2009

Ross and Brand on Radio Badfort!

Incredible as it may seem, Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand have been given their own show on Radio Badfort.

I cannot imagine any other radio station contemplating giving a show to this duo - given their reputation.

They rang me up on air!

This is a transcript of the infamous interview that took place.

Brand: It's ringing!

Uncle: Hello, Uncle speaking.

Brand: I don't believe it! its not an answer machine! Its actually him!

Ross: Wemarkable!

Brand: What shall I ask him?

Hateman: Ask him where he got all his ill-gotten gains from!

Ross: You can't do that its really rude!

Uncle: You can ask me any questions you like - I am an elephant of good repute.

Brand: Er, well I have a great deal of respect for you and your great deeds, and your skills on a velocipede, let that never be questioned...

Ross: Don't hint...

Brand: I weren't hinting! Why did that come across as a hint?

Ross: Because you know what he did…

Brand: That wasn't a hint …

Ross: You stole a bicycle!

[laughter in the studio]

Hateman: That's it, thats what we hired you for! - prick the old tyrant's pomposity!

Brand: Jonathan!

Ross: I got excited, what can I say, it just came out.

Uncle: This is a known misunderstanding from my University days - I borrowed a bicycle, in order to get to an exam on time...

Brand: Yeah, but you didn't ask permission first?

Uncle: Technically, that is true...

Brand: So you nicked it then?

Uncle: How dare you infer...

Ross: You're making it worse, just say sorry.

Hateman: No! don't say sorry! insult him some more!

Ross: This is incwedible! This must be the only wadio station where they don't want you to apologise and wear sack cloth and ashes...

Hateman: Er, no.. you do have to wear sack cloth and ashes - that's what we all wear at Badfort...

Ross: I think I would rather apologise to Uncle - I have a certain sartorial weputation to keep up you know.

Hateman: Are you criticising the way I dress?...cos if you are you are asking for a bunch of fives mate!

Brand: Oooh, this is all getting a bit of of hand.

Ross: Let's just sing to Uncle.

Brand: I'll make up something as I go along…

Brand: [singing…] I'd like to apologise for the terrible attacks, Uncle, even if you are a pompous humbug, the emperor of cocoa-cadgers. I said something I didn't have oughta, like you stole a bike, but I'm sure you didn't mean to squash it flat as a pancake...

Ross: You are making it worse.

Brand: Hang up, hang up! I'm making it worse!

Uncle: I have never been so insulted...

(sound of phone being slammed down)

Ross: Oh no! I think we have done it again.

Brand: No, its worse - Uncle is an International treasure.

Hateman: Rubbish! You done good work mates!

So there you have it - by throwing their lot in with the Badfort Crowd I have no doubt that they have destroyed their careers.

How, you might well ask, could the Badfort Crowd be able to afford the duos fees?

Well, it turns out that having donated a copy of the first Spiderman comic story to Comic Relief Ross was looking to replace it.
Beaver offered him a copy as a fee. A dread to think what Mister Brand's payment consisted of.

But how had Beaver come by such a rare comic?

My fears were soon answered. Will Shudder, my librarian, came rushing in. "Oh, Sir," he cried "One of your copies of "Amazing Fantasy - Issue 15" is missing."

"Not the ones signed by Steve Ditko, Jack Kirby and Stan Lee?" I replied. "No Sir, just a rather tatty one." he added.

"The copies of Issue 1 of "Action Comics" are all still there?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir - all present and correct" came the response.

Luckily, Beaver does not know much about comics.

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Friday, 20 February 2009

Barack comes to Homeward!

My good friend Barack came to visit on Wednesday - his first foreign trip as president!

Although, I must ask you not to mention this to anyone. I have been sworn to secrecy.

The Canadians, apparently, would be very upset - because they thought he was visiting them first.

As predicted, the Badfort Crowd attempted to disrupt proceedings - protesting with banners and the like. Luckily, my detective, A.B. Fox had a plan. He hired a gang of the giants from Lanky Tower to stand in front of them.

A few hearty choruses of 'Hail to Glorious Uncle!" drowned out their shouts.

We had a slap up banquet in Barack's honour - a hundred casks of herrings, a thousand kegs of Turkish Delight and three hundred first grade cheeses!

However, that evening, after Barack had departed for Canada (he said that it would be a tedious experience compared to the joys of Homeward), we were appalled to hear the following disgraceful interview being conducted on Badfort Radio.

HITMOUSE:(thin and squeaky)You were present at the vast gathering outside the Castle of Homeward today, to welcome the American president, Mr Hateman.

HATEMAN (loud and raucous) I watched what went on, you might say.

HITMOUSE: And what did you think of it, Mr Hateman?

HATEMAN: Hundreds Honour Humbug! That's what I thought! Typically of the Fat Dictator - all dissent was suppressed!

HITMOUSE: Strong words, Mr Hateman. What is your opinion on the new president?

HATEMAN: (shouting) Radio would bust if I said what I thought - He is clearly just another lacky of the lard bucket who rules over us! With his begging bowl out to Bully Bounty!

"Turn it off!" I said "I have heard enough of the cynical motives they impugn upon my good friend Barack!"

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Tuesday, 17 February 2009

Badfort Reborn

As you know, Gordon Brown, under the influence of one of Gleamhound's potions, agreed to rebuild Badfort - providing that it was done by British workmen.

I looked out from Homeward, at the building site, and my heart sank.

Beaver has insisted that it be rebuilt to the exact specification of the previous ramshackle edifice.

The British workmen must be in great distress - clearly not used to erecting such jerry built constructions.

Beaver was sitting with his feet up in a chair, jar of Black Tom by his side, directing operations.

A group of badgers came to protest at the use of foreign labour.

"Shut up complaining, badgers!" he cried "If your King wer'nt such a skin flint you could have had the jobs - that'll learn you for cow towing to badgers in ermine. Look at these wonderful British workers - you don't see them being so subservient do you?"

Then he spotted some of the builders brewing up.

"Oi - what you fink your doing?" he shouted "No time for bloomin' tea breaks - get back to work or I'll send you packing! - youse only agency workers you know!"

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Sunday, 15 February 2009

Help my Asian relatives

I am indebted to Mister Stephen Fry for bringing to my attention the plight of my Asian relatives.

You can find out how you can help them at the elephant family website.

Celebrities, such as Stephen, are auctioning kisses at this Charity Auction Site.

Rather vulgar I now - but needs must.

Personally, here at Homeward, I will be auctioning an evening of fine dining with yours truly.

It promises to be a night of gastronomic delight, filled with my own witticisms and repartee.

Should raise a few hundred thousand at least, I would think.

I felt I had to reward Stephen in some way for his magnanimous gesture, so I have decided that he is now the frontrunner to play me in the movie of my life.

As can be seen from the paparazzi picture below, however, this has infuriated Hugh Grant who had high hopes that the part would re-invigorate his career. He has taken the news quite badly. It has caused a major falling out about between these once close friends.

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Saturday, 14 February 2009

What becomes of the broken hearted?

Diane Keaton is heartbroken.

She has been spurned by Beaver Hateman who turned his charms on the well known actress, and British Member of Parliament, Glenda Jackson.

He has had a thing about her ever since he saw her magnificent performance in the great tragedy Antony and Cleopatra - one of the seminal works of England's greatest playwright - Sir Ernest Wiseman OBE.

His ardour only became greater when he realised they were political kindred spirits.

But all is not as it seems. Miss Keaton's, and indeed the whole of Hollywood's, passion for Beaver and his antics has been revealed to have a far more prosaic explanation.

It appears that Beaver had tainted the whole of the Hollywood water supply with Gleamhound's Hate Potion.

As you know, all Gleamhound's potions have the reverse effect.

They then used their satellite to beam subliminal images and ideas onto the televisions owned by the populace. This caused a wave of affection for Mister Hateman.

Now the satellite has crashed to earth the effects are wearing off - but not before the Screen Actors Guild had raised and handed over the necessary funds to enable Beaver to buy back Badfort!

It is clear that he has also infiltrated the drug into the tea room at the Houses of Parliament in London. Glenda is so besotted with Beaver that she has used her political influence to persuade Gordon that Badfort is a place of World Architectural and Cultural significance!

He has agreed, as a gesture of goodwill, to use taxpayers money to rebuild the eyesore that I have to look at every morning from my own home!

The only proviso that he has placed on this is that British workers must be used in its reconstruction.

This will infuriate the King of the Badgers - not only will it mean that he has Beaver once more on his doorstep, but all the unemployed badgers are protesting at the loss of work for themselves.

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Friday, 13 February 2009

Space Debris

Hitmouse is frothing at the mouth.

He, and the Badfort Crowd, had just finished clearing up their shanty town, 'Uncleville', after the flood. Suddenly, a great big satellite came hurtling out of the sky and smashed into his Nissen Hut.

He is furious, and, of course, Beaver is blaming me. He accuses me of filling space up with junk. I pointed out to him that, if he cared too look, the satelite clearly had 'Made in Badfort' written on the side. "I am not surprised." I espoused, "Clearly it is of poor workmanship and was bound to fall out of the skies before very long!"

Hitmouse attempted to throw his skewers at me but missed.

Frankly, I am rather pleased. Without their satellite they will no longer be able to broadcast their virulent propaganda around the world.

Meanwhile. I have dispatched a cohort of Wombles into space to clear up the junk that mankind has distributed around the globe.

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Thursday, 12 February 2009

The Happening

If I get through my conference call with Gordon and Barack in time, I shall be joining in with Mister Linehan's Film Club on Friday Night.

The choice of film is interesting - 'The Happening'.

On the face of it a frothy comedy, but actually a quite frightening parable depicting the bitter consequences of a society engulfed by permissiveness and anarchy.

The 1960's, of course, was the decade in which my biographies were first released and I became a world famous celebrity, so I have fond memories of it. I was there - reciting my poetry during the 14-Hour Technicolour Dream at Alexandra Palace, and posing for Andy Warhol

Let it not be said, therefore, that I was without it.

It was, however, also a decade in which Beaver Hateman's revolutionary urges were condoned by many members of society. Particularly in May '68.

The film, therefore, provokes mixed feelings.

The plot concerns the kidnapping of a business tycoon. It brought back dark memories of the time that I, myself, was kidnapped and held for ransom by the Badfort Crowd.

In the film, the business tycoon, unlike me, has amassed his ill-gotten fortune by dubious means. He is loved by no-one and cannot persuade anyone to pay his ransom.

I, of course, am loved by all my many followers. In fact, the Old Monkey used all his savings to purchase a quantity of Clutchclamp. This drug enabled him to become invisible and affect my rescue.

There is an important message in this film. Money is worthless without the love of your fellow people. A philosophy I heartily agree with. That is why I am considered by many, although I blush to say so, as one of the world's leading philanthropists.

Beaver loves the film, it reminds him of his anarchist youth - but he cries everytime, at the end, when the money gets burnt.

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Wednesday, 11 February 2009

Hollywood gangs up on me!

It would appear that the whole of Hollywood has been duped by Beaver.

They are all convinced by his story of being a slum dog oppressed by a millionaire elephant!

Diane Keaton even believes that he will marry her!

Of course, we all know what happened with him and Jennifer Aniston and there so-called relationship.

They have even agreed to make the film, that he has been punting, of his life story entitled Reds 2

Brad Pitt is keen to play Beaver, a terrible irony for Jennifer - the man who left her is to play the man who fleeced her!

The film will be a tissue of lies, and now that my name has been sullied there is no hope that my own biopic will be picked up.

This will be a major disappointment to both Stephen Fry and Hugh Grant who were both vying to play me.

In other news, Peter Porsche, COE of Badgertown Rock has apologised for the mess that he got the bank into, lending to the likes of Beaver Hateman and causing all this Shanty Town hoo-haa that has erupted.

As punishment he has had to give up his car and house and go and live in a tin shack and wear only sack cloth. Just like the people he lent to!

There is some justice in this world!

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Tuesday, 10 February 2009


This really is one of the worst winters at Homeward that I can remember.

The snow has been followed by torrential rain and the moat around Homeward has overflown.

It has flooded the shanty town (Uncleville!) that the Badfort crowd built on my lawn.

To cap it all Beaver is blaming me for this! He accuses me of deliberately allowing the moat to become waterlogged in order to wash their houses away before Barack's Presidential visit.

He has sent out an S.O.S. to the Screen Actors Guild. Diane Keaton (clearly besotted with Beaver) has organised an airlift of emergency supplies.

It seems to consist mainly of barrels of Black Tom and DVD's of sustaining performances.

There appears to be no shortage of food as the surrounding waters have become inundated with Scob Fish.

Luckily, here at Homeward, there are plentiful supplies of food at my various food towers.

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Monday, 9 February 2009

Winner of the Snow Me Competition!

I have chosen my good friend Prince Charles as the winner of the Snow Me Competition.

He assures me that, despite rumours to the contrary, he had no help from his staff and it is entirely the work of his two sons and himself.

I rather like the colourful and somewhat psychedelic decoration - apparently that was Harry's idea.

The prize is this wonderful signed photograph of me with President Obama.

Meanwhile, all is quiet in Uncleville. But, I hear on the grapevine that Beaver Hateman is trying to enlist the help of his Hollywood liberal friends to orchestrate a campaign against me.

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Friday, 6 February 2009

Brother Can You Spare a Dime ?

Badfort Radio is continuously playing this awful song recorded by Beaver Hateman.

Do not be fooled by this plea for your money - Beaver has never built any of my towers nor did he have any involvement in the building of the switchback railways that link them. He has never done a day's work in his life.

Furthermore he is threatening that he and his cronies will line the route of President Obama's cavalcade, when he visits Homeward, with their hands outstretched begging for money.

He is attempting to embarrass me into giving him a hand out. It is nothing short of blackmail.

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Thursday, 5 February 2009


Oh Calamitous Day!

We were awoken this morning by the sound of bangs and crashes from without the walls of Homeward.

The Old Monkey, Brass, Goodman, the One-Armed Badger and I went to investigate.

Beaver and his cronies have constructed a shanty town on the lawns of Homeward!

If you remember, the Badfort Crowd still owe the considerable sum of £200,000 to Badgertown Rock, following its collapse in 2007.

They had mortgaged Badfort to build a 'People's Palace'.

It appears that the King of the Badgers has had enough of their non-payment and foreclosed on the property.

In retaliation, Beaver took the place apart - leaving the King of the Badgers with an empty plot of land.

The Badfort Crowd have re-used the bits of old wood to construct this monstrosity on my doorstep!

We were confronted by the sight of ramshackle sheds, jerry-built shacks, tents and Nissen huts. They have built residences out of box wood, cardboard, and scraps of metal!

They have even had the cheek to name this shanty town 'Uncleville' - blaming me for the present depression!

The ingratitude! - after all I have done to alleviate the economic downturn.

This could all be very embarrassing - I must find a way to dispose of this eyesore before my good friend Barack comes here on his first foreign visit.

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Wednesday, 4 February 2009

Nearly a million Twit followers!

I am so grateful for your wonderful support!

I have nearly a million twits following me.

Click on the image above to see the Times Online survey of the top 50 celebrity twitterers.

You will see that I am Numero Uno - with over 900,000 followers!

Due to some technical glitch at Twitter House my twittering homepage shows only 9 - I guess that the boffins just could not cope with one celebrity having so much support!

Lets see if we can break the million mark!

As requested here is a picture of me on the big screen at Davos.

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Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Snow Me Competition

Thank you for all the fantastic entries for my competition to build the best snow effigy of myself.

My good friend Barack sent in this photo of the snow elephant that he and his family have built on the White House lawn!

Gordon has sent in this of the one that he and the Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao made in the garden at Downing Street - look how proud they are of their efforts!

Jonathan Ross did not seem to quite understand the rules, bless him, and sent me a photo of some pigs in the snow!

Trust Beaver to see an opportunity for subversive propoganda - he has sent in this image entitled "Lenin protects the huddled masses from the rampaging Capitalist Elephant"!!

I, of course, disqualified this immediately. It looks nothing like me.

Keep your entries coming!

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Monday, 2 February 2009

Let snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Got back from Davos yesterday - I must say that my speech on a roadmap out of this financial meltdown was very well received.

Back at Homeward, even for our fierce winters - this one is particularly harsh.

It reminds me of the time that Beaver tunneled through the snow drifts to raid my treasury.

Thank you for all the pictures that you have sent me of the statues that you have built of me from snow. Here are a few of them.

They are much nicer than the one that the Badfort Crowd used to infiltrate Homeward last year.

I have decided to award a prize for the best snow rendition of myself - a signed photo of me with President Obama.

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