Tuesday, 29 May 2012


The Redneck Games (an alternative to the Olympics for those who like their competitions to be a little more “earthy”) took place in East Dublin, Georgia at the weekend. With events such as Water Melon Seed Spitting, Bobbin for Pigs’ Feet and an Armpit Serenade, it must have been as big a sell out as London 2012. From the pictures I’ve seen, the gusto with which contestants threw themselves into the mud-pit created for belly-flopping was certainly commendable. I particularly liked the competitor captured on camera participating in her wedding dress. If it wasn’t for the fact that her husband flopped with her, I’d have been persuaded that it was a symbol of a poignant end to a marriage, as opposed to of jumping in at the deep end

Tuesday, 15 May 2012


Politicians have come up with an ingenious plan to solve the scourge of divorced women. They are arranging marriages; with the enticement of a payment courtesy of an entrepreneur and traditional wedding gifts provided by local government. You have to share your wedding ceremony with a few hundred other people, but otherwise the only snag, depending which side of the fence you are on, is that there’s a pre-condition making divorce this time around just a little harder.

No, before you gasp with disbelief, can I just impress that this initiative is taking place in Nigeria and not here. Over there divorce is rising and with the ability to divorce one’s wife by simply reciting under Sharia law “I divorce you,” three times, one might say it is little wonder. In the absence of tax credits and income support, thousands of divorced women and their children have found that their blood relatives have been unable to assist them and inevitably have ended up begging on the streets.

In these hard pressed times, one, of course, does wonder if our current government with its commitment to saving the institution of marriage and cutting state-benefits, might be tempted to introduce something similar here. Or, am I just being too cynical?

Wednesday, 9 May 2012


So scientists reckon flatulent dinosaurs could have contributed to the global warming that took place over 200 million years ago. Well it makes good headlines, or so one of my clients thought when I met her in a newsagent’s, once upon a time.

“Have you seen the paper today?” she asked. “There’s an article on my ex-husband, just here,” and she pointed with her finger.

“Exstinked,” the headline read.

“I always told you he was an old fogey with a wind problem!”

Monday, 7 May 2012


With so much discussion in the media last week about speech impediments, I was reminded of the occasion, once upon a time, when I introduced myself to a new client, a farmer..

“It’s war,” he said, sadly. He didn’t look like a vengeful sort but I wondered if he was looking for a fight rather than seeking a collaborative option.

“No dinner,” and he heaved a sigh before continuing. “Bweeding heavy got me wed.”

“How many children, do you have?” I asked.

He eyed me curiously. “No children,” he replied.

“Oh, I must have misunderstood; I thought that was why you said you had got married.” I was obviously totally on the wrong track because he gave me another look, before seeking to explain his sorry state of affairs.

“No, wed from bweeding,” he repeated with a wheeze whilst tapping his chest demonstratively. “Whisky,” he declared emphatically.

(Bit of a drinker, I thought.)

“Cow was calving this morning,” he said, making small talk.

“Oh dear,” I responded. “It was good of you to keep the appointment, and, now you are here, how can I help?”

“Udder guy,” he replied.

I stopped. Had I heard correctly? I have acted for many farmers over the years and sometimes the terminology can get rather technical.

“A rope for the cow?” I queried, hesitantly.

I was obviously wrong as he again threw a strange look in my direction. There was no doubt; he thought I was totally mad

“Adulterwee,” he stressed; “Itsd rife!”