Tag: tiny tyke

Reinstate The Yorkshire One

We, the undersigned, request – nay, DEMAND – that the Tiny Tyke, hereinafter to be known as the ‘Yorkshire One’, be reinstated as an Honorary Welshman, given the years he has dedicated to visiting the Valleys and accepting that betting on the Wales result in any given year was not a good idea after the LSG threatened to decapitate him when he told her his prediction of a loss for a Wales v England game – and he was right! He is now banned from betting, commenting or talking during 6 Nations games (or even, if the LSG is in a bad mood, betting, commenting or talking on ANY day!).


If you feel that the Yorkshire One has been unfairly or harshly treated by the LSG (as if!), please hit the ‘Like’ button to show your displeasure – but remember, the LSG has a LONG memory and an unforgiving nature. You may also wish to take into account that the LSG can revoke your membership at any time, that there is NO Article 50 and NO ‘Backstop’.

You may ‘Remain’ or ‘Leave’, but you cannot do both, and you may change your mind halfway through – this is understandable, if a little stupid, but we’ve all been a little stupid at times. In fact, even the LSG has been more than a little stupid at times, but we’ll gloss over those odd moments. They belong in the past before arthritis set in!

Should the Yorkshire One be reinstated? Should the LSG become more human and, therefore, more stupid? Is there life beyond Mars? Is there life on Mars? Does Mars help you work, rest and play?

These questions may be answered quite easily, but the most important is:
Answers on a postage stamp, please.

Did they really say that??


Africa Street sellers

Africa Street sellers

Good evening from the Lifestyle Support Guru, once again here to guide you across life’s babbling brooks, raging rivers and terrifying torrents. Surely, you must think, there cannot be much more that the LSG can teach us? She has already helped us with so much, such as what to say to a lady with her dress tucked in her knickers, how to deal with marauding monkeys, and enjoying a night out in Barnsley (or all three together, if this takes your fancy).
Oh, my faithful followers, there is still so much to learn, including when you may use exclamation marks, as laid down by our all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful but beloved government (I may have made that last bit up).
Today, however, I wish to share with you some of the deeper thoughts I have gathered from listening to those around me and, thus, help you to avoid making a complete fool of yourself by repeating such silly things. I shall also include some photographic evidence so that you may make up your own minds.

The first ‘jewels’ are all courtesy of my acquaintance, TT (the Tiny Tyke), who has featured in previous posts because of his wide-ranging level of knowledge (believing that the English for Beaujolais is Bordeaux, for example). He was studying some of my glorious photos of African scenes (in other words, I was showing him my holiday photos, yawn, yawn) and, upon seeing a

Market traders England

Market traders England

typical African street scene of crowds of people selling fruit and vegetables and anything else that might bring in a few Tanzanian shillings, he remarked, ‘I love little market towns’, as if he were looking at a picture of Pickering in North Yorkshire!
Upon seeing another street scene with concrete crossings across rainwater ditches, his comment was, ‘That reminds me of the canals you see when you come into Birmingham on the train.’

12916790_10153353868247714_7073409013680909671_oAnd finally, while looking at a photo of a main road crowded with vehicles of all shapes and sizes, he commented that he couldn’t understand ‘why they only ever seem to have one main road running through African countries’. I patiently explained that this might have something to do with the arid wilderness and wild animals found in many such countries, so there’s no real point in having another road, since you are likely either to end up dying of dehydration or serving as a packed lunch for a lion (or both?).

But TT is not the only one who has given me pause for thought with his observations. I overheard a conversation in the pub the other night when two men were discussing Burns Night (yes, I know it’s April, but Derby occasionally takes some time to catch up with other, more forward-looking towns and cities). One of the gentlemen said that he didn’t know the words to ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and he’d never tried haggis because he’d never been to Scotland. In the next12524133_10153353899977714_5005369881554209382_n breath, he said that his favourite food is curry. With my most innocent face on, I asked him if he’d ever been to India. ‘No, of course not,’ he replied, with no hint of irony.
I shall finish with an example of something which still puzzles me: why would my youngest sibling, over a Sainsbury’s ‘Junior Breakfast’, ask me if I had ever thought of working on Sainsbury’s checkout when I retired? Dearest devotees, much as I admire Sainsbury’s checkout staff, I am afraid that I would have to consider Waitrose at the very least!

Do play along with ‘Spot the difference’ in the photos…