Trouble Brewing

Pimlico Internet Café today

I am despatching this missive to you directly from the Pimlico Internet Café, as it’s far too urgent to go through the normal channels…

Of course, as with most urgent news, that usually means trouble. But, as we always say at P2P “Don’t shoot the messenger”.

A neighbour of mine, Mr Percival Greenwood, has been experiencing parsnip theft on a major scale. Mr Greenwood’s prize parsnips are legendary around Pimlico way.

Mr Greenwood's parsnips, last year

“The matter is not being taken seriously by the police” a distraught Mr Greenwood (aged 67) told awaiting news reporters. “The prize parsnips are not even fully matured, they were only planted in March and take 34 weeks to reach full maturity” he added. Mr Greenwood suspects a rival competitor of the theft, but with no tangible evidence to offer the police, he has resorted to maintaining an all day vigil of his vegetable plot. Trouble indeed!

Discussing parsnips, today

Until today, I had never witnessed a grown man break down and weep over the loss of parsnips. I can only hope to God that I never have to witness such a spectacle again. Watching this well respected giant of a man lose his dignity this morning, was frankly more than I could stand. I had to walk away.

Mr Percival Greenwood keeping vigil, today

Well, it’s finally happened. The long awaited return of the Great British Trouser Show to BBC1. As I understand it, this will be aired on Monday 6 July at 8:00 pm. This opening show of the series promises to be a stonker. The two colossuses of the trouser world finally meet head to head. Yes, it’s Sir Patrick Moore taking on Simon Cowell. The episode to be aired is provocatively entitled “The Wrong Trousers” and will stop traffic!

Moore vs Cowell

“I’m old school” claims Moore. “I wear my trousers high and proud” Cowell responds. I won’t give too much away here, but the sight of Sir Patrick Moore sitting on Simon Cowell’s face and obviously trying to break wind, is worth the Licence Fee alone.

Swiftly changing the topic now; to things being “Ready”. Everything seems to be “Ready”. These ghosts of the future that have somehow found their way back to the present. These technical wonders of the future actually available today, but cannot be used until the future arrives. With me? No? OK… Here’s an example: Televisions that are HD Ready.
These HD Ready televisions have been around for donkey’s years. It is only now that HD (High Definition) is actually becoming a reality. When it is finally a full reality, I recommend then, and only then, go out and buy one. They’ll be dirt cheap and pretty damn good, if the hype is to be believed.  I will never understand the people who have been telling me they have owned one for almost a decade. My stock response to them is “I suppose you’ve purchased some magic beans on your way to market too? Perhaps traded the family cow for them?” They either look blankly back at me, or eagerly ask if such magic beans exist and be readily purchased. To which I will then say “No I’m afraid not, but I have some normal beans that are Magic Ready”.

Actually, I have purchased some rather smart “Hover Ready” shoes.

Hover Ready brogues

They don’t actually hover yet, but when that technology arrives, and it will. I have been assured by the retailer that I will be able to glide around the room effortlessly without any apparent means of propulsion. The thought of never having to wear out a carpet or step in dog excrement again, caused me to part with my money on the spot. I would give you the name of the establishment where I had the good fortune to make such a purchase, but alas, it was a mobile shoe shop. The gentleman assured me that he would be calling around the Pimlico area again this time next year. Seems fair enough, I thought.

Apparently, this is how the shoes will perform:

Recently, as coincidence would have it, Mrs Parsons of Pimlico Gardens is rumoured to have purchased a hover chair. Not a “Hover Ready” chair, but a chair that hovers now! Typical Mrs Parsons, she always has to be first. Having heard the rumour, I ventured a visit to her Georgian Mews. Indeed the rumours were well founded, for as I was shown through to her back lawns, I espied her hovering to her heart’s content. I have to admit this sight was something to behold, she looked like a vision, an ethereal angel. Mrs Parsons what a fine swan you are.

The ethereal Mrs Parsons