Dear J D Wetherspoon...

Hello customer service team,

I hope you are all having a good day. I am writing to simply enquire why on Earth the Mary Shelley pub in Bournemouth has a 'no trainers' policy on a Saturday night. It's extremely odd considering it is essentially just a pub. The Moon in the Square nearby doesn't have this policy and neither does the Christopher Creeke. In fact, neither do any of the other clubs nearby who I would perhaps expect to have a 'no trainers' policy. So why do you? It makes very little sense in my opinion and this is for three rather brilliant reasons.

The first is that trainers actually have more grip on those slippery floors. If you're a pub then you shouldn't really have a slippery floor anyway but many clubs do. If you are a club then surely wearing trainers is fantastic for health and safety. You can thank me when you change your policy and thus prevent any unfortunate hospital related incidents.

The second reason is that many people around us were wearing what can only be described as a millennium shell suit. A kind of 2010 version of its 1980's predecessor. Hoodies were worn as well but because they wore some fairly nice shoes they were allowed in. So if this is an image thing, which I think it probably is, why did the bouncers let these people in? Very odd.

My third and final reason is probably the best reason of all. You know when you walk into an establishment, say a shop or a hospital or even a pub like in this case, and instantly look to the floor making sure to take in what everyone is wearing on their feet? No? Yeah, neither do I or anyone I know. I can honestly say that upon entering a pub or club I have never taken note of what anybody is wearing on their feet. This is because the bar isn't at foot level but eye level. Why would anyone look around at what is on people's feet? It's the most ridiculous rule I've ever heard in my life. If I did look at the footwear of everybody else in any given establishment, I very much doubt I'd freak out over a pair of trainers either. My reaction would probably be 'fair enough'. I think 99% of people would have this reaction as well so why do you even enforce this policy?

I look forward to hearing your feedback on all three of my reasons for removing this rule. If you can suggest a decent comeback for all three of my points then fair enough but remember if you contest the first reason then you are essentially saying you don't care about the health and safety of your customers. Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger.

That is all for now. Don't even get me started on the differing prices for sausages, chips and beans around the country...

Kind regards,

Henry Fosdike

The Best Invention Of All Time

A while ago, I was sitting with my brother (that shows it was a while ago; he doesn't live with me anymore) and we were watching something on TV when I had a thought. It wasn't particularly interesting but I thought I'd ask my brother for his opinion on the matter.

So I casually asked him what was the best invention of all time. My answer was pretty good, so he'd have to go some way to top it. If you can think up one now then that'd be cool. Play along at home. Just have a think.

Anyway, he thought for a moment. And by a moment, I mean a good 30 seconds of contemplation. Before delivering an epic speech that I was not expecting.

"Time." He said finally.

Yes, he can be a clever little shit sometimes.

He went on... "Because, think about it. There is no such thing as time really. I mean there is, but no way of measuring it. We invented that. We came up with seconds and minutes and hours. How long does it take to get somewhere? Time. How old we are. Time. How long something takes to cook. Time." He went on in this vain for far too long and my mind wandered for his last few minutes praising the advent of time.

My mind only reconnected with the real world when he had finished and I had him utter, "why, what were you thinking?"

Now, before I tell you my answer, I don't think it needs to be explained. When compared to my brother's answer it may not really look as though I had put as much thought into my own question as he had, but in its own way, I still admire my almost naive approach to conjuring up what I believed (at least prior to asking my brother), to be the best invention of all time.

What was my answer I here you ask?

A toaster.

The Dentist and My First Dead Tooth

Today I visited the dentist for...about the eighth time in 4 months. To be fair it was the first time in 3 months but the month previous to that was a hectic one. Nobody should be able to banter with their dentist and remember last time you met. This is because most dentist's advise a 6 month check-up. Well, my dentist knows me now. To the extent where he looked pleased to see me when I walked in and asked how I was since a couple of months ago. He never used to remember me and that's the way it should be. But now I swear we are only a few more meetings away from going out for a drink.

This, I think, is how cancer patients must begin to feel when they keep having to go and see the same doctor. I doubt it's the cancer that actually kills them but the depression from being such friendly mates with someone who they shouldn't know that well. Or maybe I'm just cynical. Well, I am cynical but I still think I'm onto something here.

Anyway, I was there to get the low down on my front tooth. The incisor if anyone remembers learning the actual name from old science lessons at school. This tooth has been a complete nuisance since the last dentist, who I won't name...because I don't know his name, screwed up the first filling. Now my friend Dr Deivis from Sweden has had to fix things. Only it hasn't gone according to plan with the next filling he put in falling out (those damned 20p sweet drumstick things), realising putting in a replacement could screw over an important nerve and so then going for a root canal instead. So far so good. What I didn't know is that even though you put in a filling as part of a root canal, the damned tooth can still die.

Which is what I learned today. Humbling news. My new best friend Deivis told me that my front right incisor is dead. The first part of me to die is my front right incisor. It never even reached 20. He told me that sometimes this can happen but the decay normally occurs over many months whereas this has been rather quick. I took that to mean that when I completely die in hopefully a lot of decades time, you'll only need to wait about six months or so before burying someone on top of me, such is my body's speed at decaying.

So now I am currently lugging around a dead piece of me forever more. Apparently it will need to be whitened from the inside and this should last 7 or so years before I need it redone. Knowing my recent dental problems I'll be going back every year. This costs £120 by the way, yet the whole mouth can be done for £500. I don't really get this as if you get the whole mouth done, that's one hell of a discount. I contemplated it for a few moments before realising I wasn't yet ready to look like Simon Cowell or Richard Hammond when his had just been done on Top Gear.

So I am now booked in to have my tooth whitened and it apparently takes two, three or four sessions. The only problem is it's a dead tooth so why even bother? Why not just yank the fucker out and give me a new one? That'd be kind of funky. A great ice breaker at parties. "I have a false tooth" sounds a lot better than "I have a dead tooth." Better still, I should probably just avoid mentioning it entirely.

Anyway this is being written in memory of my dead tooth. We had some good times; discovering it really could hurt biting into an apple, that time when I got a brain freeze after chomping into an ice cream with you at the forefront of that discovery. Ahh...you shall not be forgotten. Not least because I'll be lugging you about the whole rest of my life anyway and you'll be having more money spent on you than the rest of my mouth combined most likely. Even though you're dead. Ludicrous.

Henry Fosdike's Top Right Incisor. R.I.P 1990-2009/2010? (Can't really be too sure when it died)

A stand-up thought

I had a thought tonight. Yes, a real one. My thought surrounded the start of world war 3 and what I'd do if it ever happened. I'd like to say I put lots of thought into whether I'd sign up or not but I didn't. It took about 3 seconds for me to come to the conclusion of 'fuck that'.

I wouldn't of course, not be helping at all. I would just help the war effort in other, less dangerous ways. I'd offer to protect Bournemouth beach for instance. Deckchair, sunglasses and suncream included. During Winter and at night time, I'd probably hire someone to do it for me. I wuldn't not do anything during Winter either though, oh no!

During Winter, I'd pop over to Australia and protect the allies beaches. That's me, going that extra mile, or in this case, 10,650.6 extra miles on top of that original mile. All for free to the British taxpayer in exchange for a nice flight over.

The probem with modern warfare these days is that there just isn't a checkpoint, is there? You can't respawn if you make a mistake. You can't work out that you have been fighting for 4 or so hours and are therefore halfway through the war. I say that's a problem with mordern warfare but it's pretty much a problem with all warfare, ever invented.

Unless of course you own a time travelling DeLorean, in which case you can kind of work out exactly what will happen.

"Ah, this is Dunkirk, this is a hard level!"

Talking of Back to the Future, I have a problem with that film. Well, the second one anyway. I recently watched it and had to re-watch it to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me. But seriously, if you watch it really closely there is a massive mistake. Huge. They go to 2015 and not once did Marty McFly shake.

Seriously though, if Michael J Fox doesn't win the Oscar in 2015 for that performance, he'll have been robbed. Which incidentally, is a lot easier to do to him these days. Except in an Earthquake, that puts everyone on a level playing field. In fact, if there is an earthquake then it gives a chance for Michael J Fox to steal from others.

How would you know if he is scared of a horror film?

"He's shaking!"
"He does that anyway...Michael, I want a drink, here's some flavoured milk and ice cream. See what you can make with those ingredients."

Truth be told, not a lot. I thought milkshake and you no doubt thought the same. No. It went everywhere.

So yeah, I've given Michael J Fox a lot of flack here, somewhat harshly. But ah, he should be able to shake it off.
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So there you go. As i started writing this, I had only got up to the Bournemouth beach part. I have actually written a good minute or two of material there. That I'll doubtfully ever use. Whoops. But if people actually do find this funny then...who knows, one day.

Hospitalized

A while back I wrote a film outline for the brilliant Patrick Swayze. It was written for no other reason than my own entertainment. I am currently writing the third. For now though, for you if anyone is reading this...I give you Hospitalized, the first of a trilogy of awesome action films starring Swayze and the action man fan favourite, Hugh Grant.

Hospitalized

Hugh Grant plays Timothy Bottomley, an upper class English toff. So that’s Hugh Grant basically playing himself.

He tries to chat up the pretty blonde receptionist at the hospital. Damn he likes her. He is just about to get in the lift when ahhhh crap! In a scene that could be described as the most shocking ever seen, the Russians start bombing the hospital. Machine gunning the windows and generally blowing shit up.

Hugh Grant sees that the receptionist is essentially, fucked. So he runs out grabs her, mumbles ‘come with me’ and leads her to the lift. He presses for the top floor and up they go. They hold a discussion as they go up. It’s not important to be honest and has nothing to do with the plot except to suggest they may get together at the end. They won’t. Do not be fooled. They’ll confess their love for each other about 75 minutes in and then she will die.

They get to the top of the hospital building.. Up here! She says. They go up the stairs and find themselves on the roof of the hospital building. They look down and see that loads of army men are surrounding the building. A megaphone from the Russians states that any patients must be killed or give themselves up now. Evil laugh since he knows many are bed ridden. Hugh looks a bit queasy. They are unsure what to do next when a shout comes from behind them. ‘Psst’. They turn around. Patrick Swayze is standing there and tells them he owns the hospital. The receptionist confirms this by saying ‘Mr Ballamatron’. Zoom out on hospital. ‘Ballamatron Hospital’ is written on the building.

The threesome talk about a strategy. Swayze talks about the many secret passages he has put in the hospital knowing that one day the Russians would come for him. ‘Why?’ ‘We haven’t got time’ says Swayze. And flashes a toothy grin. He leads them to an emergency staircase and they run down it into a ward. Swayze lifts a carpet and reveals a trapdoor. They all go down into the room. The room is full of weapons and Grant demands answers. He bumbles a bit because this is Hugh Grant we are talking about. The woman talks for the firs time in a while. ‘It’s alright’ she says ‘ He’s from Memphis’. This answer is acceptable. It gets a laugh from everyone in the room. Swayze says they must act fast but states that this secret room is completely fool proof and that nobody will get in. However it comes at a cost; the longer they stay in the room, the more people will die and eventually, the Russians will get what they came for. Hugh Grant states they must act fast then. Swayze agrees. So does the woman. They arm themselves and prepare to fight. They each agree that they will work together to take the top floor and slowly work their way back down.

They exit the secret room via a tunnel, this tunnel comes out at a fake vending machine. Swayze states he must eat some. ‘Why?’ Says Grant. ‘Because death gives me a sweet tooth’ replies Swayze. He smiles. All is good. Just as Swayze is putting cash in the vending machine a guard rounds the corner. Grant pushes Swayze to the floor and pulls the woman behind the vending machine. He quickly fires his submachine gun and takes down the guard. ‘I owe you one’ says Swayze. ‘Don’t worry about it’ says Grant. ‘No I will, we’re even now though’ says Swayze as he places one M&M into his hand. ‘I think you owe me one too’ says the secretary provocatively with the glint in her eye that screams out ‘slut’. Hugh misses the point so hands her the M&M and rushes off telling Swayze and the girl he has an idea.

He comes back moments later with doctor’s uniforms. They put them on then proceed around the floor killing 3 more guards. Fortunately, one of the Russians was a female so they swap the doctor costumes for the Russian ones. They head back to the room for more ammo. They come back and find 4 more guards on the top floor. They take them out. They head downstairs and meet two more guards. Bang fucking bang! Two more down. Another has heard the commotion though and grabs the girl. She beats the shit out of him and they advance. ‘Where did you learn to kick like that?’ asks Grant. ‘I’ve had lots of boyfriends’ she says. Brilliant. If you were unsure before, you now definitely know she is a slut.

‘Come in Yuri’ goes the radio. Swayze picks up the radio and speaks perfect Russian back. Grant and lady are confused. How does he know Russian? ‘Cold War’ states Swayze when he sees their glances. They aren’t convinced. He leads them to another tunnel in a surgeons ward (in the cupboards.) Yet more weapons await them. They arm themselves again. Grant does the ammo for each person’s weapon. The lights flicker for no real reason – the secretary links this to the Russians accessing the computer systems. This is a problem. The computer system, if hacked correctly (and trust me, it will be), can bring up where the secret locations are. Can the secretary stop them? Obviously she can. Lucky they have her. Apparently, the computers are kept in Swayze’s office on the floor below. As Swayze guides them to his office, he also takes more radios from the secret base. He pretends he is many different Russian’s across the top 3 floors. Brilliant.

They take out a few more guards including a fight where Grant flies through the air and uses two pistols to shoot two different people dead. One unfortunately was a civilian casualty. Grant is upset but keeps his bottom lip quiver to a minimum. The lights flicker again. ‘They may have got through’ says the secretary. They rush to the office. Nobody is there. The lady taps away and states that she has successfully deleted the data. ‘Yes!’ they all cry. By now, Grant is low on bullets and asks to visit that floor’s hidden room. There are two apparently. They agree that going to just one is a good idea. On the way they try a payphone. ‘Out’ says the secretary. None have a mobile on them because it’s a hospital. Clever, eh?

Swayze then states that one hidden room is ‘in there’ but runs past it. The other two stop. Grant asks why they don’t go in it. ‘It hasn’t been stocked recently’ states Swayze. They run on to the next room. Another surgery room. They open the cupboards and three Russians jump out. Grant deals with them then accuses Swayze of leading them to that room to get killed. He set them up! Swayze protests his innocence but Grant doesn’t listen They have a fistfight and it ends with Grant using the heart attack pads on Swayze’s chest knocking him out. This is a clever reverse reference to Bean: The Ultimate Disaster Movie. ‘C’mon’ says Grant and they enter the secret hideout.

Inside they realise they haven’t got much time but this does not stop them sharing a very passionate kiss before reloading. ‘I can’t wait to see your gun’ says the Secretary. Slut. ‘Which one?’ says Hugh. He shows her the 3 guns on him. ‘The one in your trousers’ she states. ‘Oh the pistol.’ He withdraws this too. ‘Anyway c’mon!’ They rush off out of another tunnel. They come across some other Russians discussing some stuff. They run down some stairs but stop before hitting the floor. They are now on floor 5. This is not relevant really. They hear that the Russians are trying to get through to Yuri and his cronies. No response because Swayze is down! Ah! Madness! They curse their stupidity. What are the Russians after though? Well Hugh asks that to the secretary right after they take down the second in command on the fifth floor and annihilate the others around him. The whole idea that there is 4 guards a floor is preposterous but this is a film. Anyway, the woman says that she saved all the folders onto a memory stick before deleting crap for Swayze. They run to a computer, which happens to be in the next room and find out. Swayze has hoarded most of the Russian armies weapons since the cold war. And now they want them back. This explains the weapons rooms and also explains the random nukes that you would have seen in the weapons room. Grant probably references it within he first half hour but you forget because of the action and Swayze’s kick ass attitude.

The two decide they must get out and continue fighting to the different floors. They get to ground level and almost get to reception but they are faced with a huge array of Russian army men. He congratulates them on doing so well against his men. And then personally thanks the secretary for bringing Hugh Grant to him. ‘What?’ says Hugh Grant. Yep, the bitch was a Russian spy all along and had been working against Swayze for the past 6 months. After this display of shell shock on Hugh’s face, the Russian leader states they must bring it to an end. As now ‘I must kill you’. ‘This is a hello from Russia’ says the General as the woman goes and stands with him. Pause. He lifts the gun. ‘AND THIS IS A GOODBYE FROM MEMPHIS!’ scream Swayze. He bursts in, shouts to Hugh to jump and a rocket is fired. Kaboom! It blows up and kills most of the Russians. But the bitch is still alive. She aims at Swayze. A shot is fired and she falls down dead. ‘Like the feel of my gun, bitch?’ says Hugh Grant. The two relax. All is good with the world.

The End.