Quick Poem: Jagged Edge

Out By the Station Walking on a jagged edge Cracking Lines running Up Buildings as we fast take on routes unaware, Walking along the Jagge d edge Because we can't see inside we have to guess, Thjats why we walk on A jAGGED eDGE! iNVISIBLE fORCE pULLS THE THING APART leaVING a JaGGeD EDgE.

EXCLUSIVE! We meet Newport's Mr Average, The Man the United Nations has Dubbed 'The Most Normal Man in the World'!

As part of it's continuing program to plot the distribution of wealth and assess the health needs of the world's millions of children, UNESCO has designed a model which seeks to define a median on which can be placed the 'average' man and woman.

The average woman lives in Cape Town, but to the delight of we at Be Quaint Then die, The average man lives in Newport! Yes, UNESCO has decided that Stephen Pritchard, 36, of Fields Park Road is the most normal man in the world!

Stephen, or 'Steve' as he is known to his friends arranges to meet us in the grounds of Tredegar House where he walks his dog. How will we recognise the most normal man in the world? "I'll be wearing a red carnation," jokes Steve.

We meet Steve on a hot July morning and he is indeed wearing a red carnation! Beefy the dog, named after Ian Botham the ex-cricketer, who Steve thinks he vaguely resembles, sits patiently while his owner explains the impact the UNESCO 'accolade' has had on his life:

Steve, you are the most average or normal man in the world. How does that feel?

Different!

When did you first hear about this?

After the Wales/ Ireland match, my mate, Ray, texted me and said it was on Google news.

What was your first reaction?

Well I'd never heard of UNESCO, so I thought it was for my wife, she works in Tesco's!

Do you think you are normal or average, Steve?

I've never thought about it until now, yeah I suppose I am, but what's normal? What's normal to you, might not be the same as what's normal to the next bloke. What do they mean by normal, I dunno.

What do you do for a living Steve?

I work at the Stats.Office, IT mainly, I won't give you my full job title, it's a bit of a mouth full! I started work there in...let me think...1987... yeah that's it, long time but hey...it pays the bills!

Now we've got here some of the questions the UNESCO people asked you when you were tested for... er... normality. can you remember your replys?

Yes some of them, there was one about the car, Yes...I've got a Renault Megan! and some about the kids; There's Sarah whose 18 and Josh whose 24, and I have another son whose 30 I think....yeah he'd be 30 now, He lives in Belgium.

Really, you have a son in Belgium! What's his name? Do you ever see him?

Can we talk about that later?

Yeah...yes Steve, now another question you were asked..., actually a series of questions, was about your lifestyle..., I want to ask you about your family background, later, but this is the order that UNESCO wrote the questions

Ok, fire away Dan Dare! or should I say...er

What was the last music you bought or downloaded?

That's easy, Napalm Death, Zeke and Cannibal Corpse, yesterday, i tunes!

Who!?... Never heard of them... sounds like Metal...

Well yes, what did you expect me to like? Rhianna? Status Quo?

Its not very 'normal' is it?

I told them I liked that sort of music..that must of slipped through!

Ok, next question, Where do you buy your clothes?

Well I'm nearly 50 so its becoming a bit of a problem, I used to shop in  Topshop and River Island, but I go to TK Max in Cardiff because of the range and its near Spillers Records!

Do you follow men's fashions?

Look I'm a computer geek, I don't have a clue anymore I've got a rough idea about style but I... my Wife and kids tell me if I look a complete pillock especially my daughter!...and my son for that matter.

Which one?

I said I didn't want to talk about him.

You said later. What's his name?

I'm not going to talk about him, it was a long time ago....

But it's not a long time ago, he's 30 and living in Belgium...

Listen, love, with your caked on make-up and your frumpy dress, I don't want to talk about him, ok?
listen to my eyes, Spartacus, follow the lead of the squirrels... If you can't exceed the speed limit, nobble your accelerator...

Sorry?... what are you talking about...I just asked you a simple question and you insulted me...what was all that other stuff?

Are you a poopy pant ,or are you a panty poo? Have you resolved the differences with your rubber aunty? Deafness always starts at Christmas, ask Melvyn Bragg...lift up a stone and find the holy crayon..muggle a kicklarsh and a firkit will alight...

Stop it Steve! Talk normally, that's what normal people are supposed to do! It's a bit scary..I want to ask you some questions about your family background, now if you don't want to answer just stop me..

Ok, Ping?

Steve where were you born?

Washing machine.

What?

I was born in Washing Machine, Just north of Spandau Ballet's Murmmy! I'm a purrnd!

Steve, are you ok you,ve gone a bit red in the face..

I'm a clinsh a garaaaaayshert a sploonedpoitucro!!

Oh shit, I don't know what to do!

MORE LATER

EXCLUSIVE! The Man Who HAS SLEPT WITH, EVERY WOMAN IN NEWPORT!!

Following 'The Bouncers' tv show, and the boasts of one of the bouncers that he had 'bedded' over 5000 women, we decided to find a Newport man who could beat that incredible figure. WE DID!

Gareth Morgan, of The Lodge, Caerleon does not want to be identified, but if he has slept with as many women as he says he has, there doesn't seem much point in granting him anonymity! According to Gareth, who works at the Celtic Manor, he has SLEPT WITH EVERY WOMAN IN NEWPORT, CWMBRAN AND PONTYPOOL!!

We had to meet this guy and arranged a date at The Ship Inn in Caerleon, where we could discuss this amazing feat. We send our female reporter Megan along, to see how our Newport 'Stud' works his magic!

Gareth Morgan arrives suitably late, with a bid grin on his face, "fame at last" he say, sipping his lager, "you're not from the BBC are you? We assure him we are not from the BBC and begin the interview with a few basic questions.

How old are you Gareth?

26 man and boy, darling, what about yourself gorgeous, 18?

No, Now you claim to have slept with every woman in Newport and Cwmbran and you are working your way through Pontypool, That would mean that you would have slept with, my Nan, my Mum, my older sister and me. I don't seem to remember this mind-blowing experience.

You had black lacy Ann Summers undies on and youv'e got a birthmark under your left breast.

No I have not!

Well that must've been your Nan then. she was a bit tricky, your Nan, I kept kicking the switch on the dialysis machine!  She loved it though!  She said it was like a 'near death experience', I suppose turning the pages in 'Peoples Friend' is a near death experience for somebody of that age!

I have to ask this. What was the age of the youngest woman you've slept with...?

Well I'm not a paedo if that's what you mean! I think she was 16 or 17. I consider a woman worth getting into bed for should be over 18. thats why I asked you your age, sweety!

If you slept with every woman over 18, in the Newport area, that would include  most of the women in this pub and the bar staff...none of them seem to recognise you or give you a second look...!

Don't be as dumb as you look, cupcake, The staff's working, them women over there are with their husbands, they're sat with their colleagues and I'm with my girlfriend ,right, you!... Think about it cute reporter girl!

There are roughly 150,000 women in Newport, Cwmbran and Pontypool over the age of 18 and you are really telling me that you slept with all of them, actually had sex with them?

Yep, that's what I'm saying Lady GaGa, and I can prove it!

How?

Genetics of course! I always use protection and I keep them. Test them, and all the ladies, and Bob's your Uncle, Fanny's your Aunt, misses!

But how long does it take, I mean you work shifts...You said in your notes you started when you were 15, just in the Lodge area. Its taken 11 years...?

Listen, love, don't get your pretty little 'Agent Provocs' in a twist, I'll tell you how I does it.
The old'uns gets a hour, old to middle-aged get hour 'n' half, middle-aged, my favourites, get 3 hours, 30s,40s get about two'n'half hours, all the rest it depends what they look like, it can be over in seconds if they look like you darlin' if you know what I mean Heh, heh

Right this is the last question I've been told to ask' then I've got one of my own.

Fire away, fire away, little angel of Caerleon! by the way you're wearing a blue thong, the same one you wore on friday!

Now you've slept with every woman in Newport, Cwmbran and Pontypool what is your next challenge, Gareth?

Cardiff of course! Swansea! I'd love to give Tenby a good 'seeing to!'  Now of course my biggest most pressing challenge is you, my little passion fruit, my car is parked behind a cement mixer and builder's truck, at the rear of the pub, if anyones walks past they'll think it's the usual 'doggers'...

Alright then, Gareth, heres my question: There may be one,  may be two, women that when they are so drunk that they go blind and fall over in a stupor,  find you attractive enough to want to sleep with you. But in a hundred mile radius of  Newport, thats pathetic. You have wasted my time with this stupid lie, cost me hours and petrol on this ridiculous interview! Used obnoxious demeaning words to describe women, insulted my Nan, who you have never met! and tried to seduce me into having sex with you behind a cement mixer!

You havn't slept with all the women in Newport, Cwmbran and Pontypool, but one part of your story is true, You don't remember me, do you, Gareth, but I remember you! I was 14, Gareth, and you were 15. We went up the fields by The Lanes, and when we came back I was pregnant! I had the baby, Gareth, but I was put into care, now the baby is 11, Gareth, the question I want to ask you is, do you want to see your daughter? She's outside playing on the swings.

What? you are kidding me!

No I'm not, I brought Gemma up in care, and if you think this is a wind up, ask your Mother. We stayed in touch and she knows the whole truth. You were the only boy I did it with and because you were so immature, you were never told! Maybe that was unfair, maybe you would have been a good father. But I can't go on not telling Gemma who her father is so I'm giving you this opportunity to be a man. Please Gareth, stop telling these lies and be a father to this little girl!

Ok I will then.

EXCLUSIVE! EXCLUSIVE! EXCLUSIVE! We Have an INTERVIEW with Newport's CLOCK!!

John Frost Square housed the eccentric Newport Clock, named 'In the Nick of Time', and described by some as 'a cross between a cuckoo clock and an espresso machine'. The clock was built for the 1992 Garden Festival in nearby Ebbw Vale. Every hour, this bizarre metallic creation shook, whirled and smoked to mark the time. No wonder they called it 'the only white-knuckle clock in the world'.


NEWPORT'S spectacular festival clock could be sold for scrap.The disposal of the the eccentric timepiece, which was once a major attraction in John Frost Square after its stint representing Newport at the 1992 Garden Festival in Ebbw Vale, is one option being considered by the city council.Other proposals include putting it up for private sale, keeping it in storage or restoring and relocating it in Newport.A report to councillors says the refurbishment would bring back a popular attraction for the people of Newport and visitors, saving the authority £8,000 a year in storage costs.

But the work is expected to cost £59,000 with an additional annual maintenance cost of £21,000.If that option is agreed, the clock called In the Nick of Time, would need a new home.While the report says the city centre would be the logical choice, it adds the structure is unlikely to be in keeping with the redevelopment proposals.The roundabouts at junction 28 of the M4 or the Harlequin roundabout on Malpas Road are being considered.But the report says these would not be suitable if the clock was restored to its former glory, where it would open, billow smoke and various characters would pop out, as it could distract drivers.A council overview and scrutiny forum will now consider the options and make a decision on its future.

The popular artwork was removed from the city centre in 2006 to make way for the city centre redevelopment and was dismantled and put into storage and in 2008.The question of whether the clock should be saved divided opinion with some people calling for it to be restored while others questioned the cost of doing that.

HOWEVER, Due partly to online petitioning, and a vocal campaign on Facebook the clock may at last be saved! Positive noises from a council meeting have been heard so all may not be lost!

We have been given an EXCLUSIVE interview with THE CLOCK ITSELF!

At a secret location, just outside Newport we enter a large compound with an industrial shed at one end, this is where the clock is stored ready for a final decision on its future. We are met by Cllr. Ron Griffiths of Newport City Council, he shows us to a small door in the shed through which we are shown the various parts of the impressive clock

Cllr. Griffiths says that the clock or 'Nick' as it is known, is in a good mood so we should have no trouble: "Keep it short boys, and keep it light, if you upset him, he'll be in pieces!"

The clock is indeed in pieces and has been wrapped in hessian sheets for protection. Cllr. Griffiths tells us to aim our questions at the face of the clock.

Cllr. Griffiths leaves and we turn to the clock!

Hello Nick, how are you?

Well,  I'm a clock so I can't speak, but as you ask, not bad as it happens, I prefer it here because it's peaceful.


There is hope that you may be being saved! What do you say to that?

Are you church people? Are you 'born-a-genners'? If so, you can get out of that fucking door!


No, the Council has met to decide your future, there have been positive noises...

How can noises be positive! A noise is a noise as far as I'm concerned, stuff the Council, I'll take my chances here, thank you!

Which did you prefer, the Ebbw Vale Garden Festival or John Frost Square?

John Frost Square, because of the girls! In Ebbw Vale it was all old 'coffin dodgers' and bus loads of kids trying to speak Welsh. In John Frost Square you've got plenty of titty all the time, apart from the odd 'boiler,' now and again. From my vantage point, especially in the summer, you can see right down their chests, lovely!


There has been a campaign to save you: petitions online, a Facebook page. Lots of people saying they miss you, what do you say to all those people who want you back?

Fuck'em. I'm a clock, I want to know how many clocks wanted me back! What about that prick on the Civic Centre? I bet he didn't sign your fucking petition, I bet that one on St Mark's Church didn't shift his arse to book a computer in the library to go on Facebook did he?

Well anyway it looks like you might be back in John Frost Square before long, are you going to do anything different with your act this time?

Yes, less!

There were occasionally mechanical problems. You broke down quite often and were out of action for long periods of time, why was that?

Yeah well, I worked for the Council, if you want to pull a 'sicky' you've got to be a bit clever! I made it look like a fault, but really I just couldn't be arsed. They all do it, the bus drivers, the maintenance guys, the office people. Most of' 'em like a drink if you know what I mean...!

You have spent long periods stood in one place in all winds and weathers, what have you learnt?

That women don't buy the right bras! If they are big, if you know what I mean, they think they've got to buy big bras, bollocks, buy a couple of sizes smaller and let mechanics do the rest. much more pleasing to the male eye! Footballs in a handbag, lovely!

You must have seen some sights!

Oh god yes! I saw this boy and this girl going like the clappers, in The Monmouthshire doorway, must have been there nearly an hour!  Anyway this Community Safety whatever-they-are comes over and has a word with them, couldn't hear what he said, and they look a bit sheepish like.  Anyway would you believe it, next thing I know, the Community Safety whatever whips down his trousers and joins in!  Then he's joined by three of his colleagues, two girls and a man and they join in, I couldn't believe it. Anyway, the doors of The Monmouthshire give way and they all fall inside in a heap! The alarms are going off, glass eveywhere, but, and this is the thing, they're not stopping! Anyway, there was this function at the Dolman Theatre and all these people were leaving, walking across John Frost Square, all dressed up in their glad-rags. The Mayor is there and his Missus. Anyway,  as they walk past, the Mayor stops and says something to one of the bonking bobbies who stands up with his trousers still round his ankles, the others just carry on with the business, which is reaching the moment of ecstasy by the noises whats coming from them.  Anyway, the Mayor starts introducing the bobby to his friends from the Dolman, they're shaking hands, he's kissing these posh women on the cheek, like they do, and going on as if nothing was happening!  Anyway, the Dolman folks disappear with the Mayor and his Missus and the people in the Monmouthshire just carry on... Anyway, about a minute later the Mayor comes back on his own and tries to join in, but he's missed the action and the couple and the bobbies are leaning against a wall having a fag. So the Mayor just stands there and gets his...

Ok THANK YOU, thank you! I think we'll stop there for a moment for us all to calm down.

SMOKIN'! We visit The South Wales Cannabis and Hemp Festival! TOKIN'!

We meet the organisers of the South Wales Cannabis and Hemp Festival and try out some of their 'goodies'!

The first mistake we made was to describe The South Wales Cannabis and Hemp Expo as a 'Festival', The Newport Leisure Centre is not exactly Glastonbury, although some of the people going through the doors look like they might have just returned from there!
We buy our tickets (£2) and climb the stairs to the main hall, the people going in with us are a pot-pourri of the sort who you'd imagine would go to a cannabis and hemp expo; hoodie wearing youths, Long haired hippies with rainbow clothes, stundents wearing black with 'interesting' hair styles and 'arty crafties with hand knitted shawls, and a smattering of 'Gangsta Rappers' sauntering in and out of the caffeteria.

Newport on The Big Screen! We meet Philip J Prick, the author and Filmmaker who has set his latest movie in and around the city of Newport!

Philip J. Prick

Philip Prick is a busy man. Not only has he just published his fourth novel 'Blood Bath at St. Cadoc's' but his last book 'Joe Strummer's Ghost' is being turned into a film which has already prompted critics to speculate that it will be the best sci-fi-rock movie of the last ten years.

Set in Newport, South Wales, the film centres around the figure of Joe Strummer, singer and guitarist with The Clash, and one time resident of the city, who returns in ghost form to help revive the fortunes of Newport's ailing music scene.

We meet Philip in hipster's pub The Murenger to ask him about the new film and why he bases so many of his books in and around Newport.

Hello Philip, what is it about this film, do you think, that has attracted so much attention already? 

I think it is Joe Strummer, he was a very cool character, the fact that he lived in Newport for a short period is important for the city. I've tried to portray this elusive character in the book and in the film, which is why I have made him a ghost.

In researching this, particularly for the film, did you learn a lot about Joe Strummer the man?

Well, yes and no. I was amazed how many people who knew him are still there and still willing to talk about their experiences with him! It sometimes felt like he must have lived there for 10 years rather than just over a year. I've spoken to 30 year olds who shared a flat with Joe in the mid seventies, played in his groups and introduced him to Bob Marley. I suppose it adds to the ghost- like character of the man.

I think Photoshop has enabled people to embellish their stories. I was shown hundreds of pictures of people with Joe except that Joe always looks exactly the same, same facial expression, same hair, it's sad really. I mean The Clash were an abysmal band and Joe Strummer was the worst one of the lot, so why lie?

You mean you don't like The Clash? Why not?

They were terrible, it's just the image, bit of Rockabilly here, bit of Reggae there, leather jackets, quiffs, 'little bitta politics', it was so fake. I knew some of their fans once down in London, completely up their arses they were, hats on the back of their heads, smoking rollies, pretending to 'get' Lee Perry, stole my girlfriend one of them did. Oh yeah, she fell for it, hook, line and sinker, promised her she could meet Mick Jones, he did. Did she heck! Ended up with a £100 a-day crack habit, bastard!

So why Joe Strummer's ghost? Especially if you didn't like them?

Money. Pure and simple. Take an impoverished town, add a semi-mythical figure from a legendary punk band, take the death of that figure at 50, throw in people's need to boast about having a connection to that figure and you've got a recipe for ...money!

I don't mean making money from the film, I mean money as central to the plot. Without giving too much away, one of the characters does guided Joe Strummer tours around Newport, of course he makes most of it up, there isn't a lot to see. The highlight of his tour is a house on Stow Hill, which he claims Joe shared with Bono and The Edge from U2 for a period in the late 70s. By adding U2 to the equation, this guy is raking it in, all those gullible post-punk wankers couldn't get enough!

Post-Punk?

Oh, you know, the ones who didn't like punk at the time and wanted something a bit like Genesis but cooler. Voila! U2.

So this guy is making money from his tours?

Yeah, raking it in! Anyway he makes the mistake of having a joint before one of his tours! So he is a bit bollocksed! He tells these people that he himself lived there at the same time as the U2 c**ts along with..., well I can't tell you that because it would spoil the film! Anyway he gets rumbled by some muso and gets blackmailed! The plot thickens from there.

'Mr Limpy Limpy', the woman who has her own take on the Middle East crisis!

Mr 'Limpy Limpy' is the nom-de-plume of Barb who looks a bit like this!

As tensions between Iran and Israel ratchet up following tit-for-tat threats and increasing concern over Iran's nuclear weapons programme, we speak to the woman whose plain speaking has set the diplomatic channels alight.

From her busy city centre cafe in Worcester, Barbara Witchell, 59, uses her extensive knowledge of the Middle East conflict to conduct ad hoc interventions in one of the most intractable problems in the history of international conflict. Using nothing but a mobile phone and her wit and wisdom, Barb as she is known to her friends and customers, plays the 'shuttle diplomat' between the various power brokers. Her sister Manje once called her the 'Henry Kissinger of the Bacon Butty'

We sit down with Barb amongst the full breakfasts, steaming mugs of tea, and sausage and bacon rolls; struggling to be heard amongst the bleeping of fruit machines, the coughing and shouts of customers and the occasional unsuppressed fart from a nearby 'gentleman of the road'.

Barb, how long have you been involved in the Middle East conflict?

Since 1967, lover, when I won Miss Worcester. They ask what your dreams are for the future, lover, and I said 'world peace' like all the other girls, lover. The man who gave me the prize (gift vouchers for Preedy's the stationary shop) Herbert Short said: "Your lovely figure could easily achieve that, Barbara, especially your breasts". From that moment I decided that I would use my assets to do just that, lover, to achieve world peace! Later Herbert Short, who was the Mayor at the time, got arrested for sexual assault on one of the girls, lover.

Barbara Witchell, aged 17, after winning 'Miss Worcester'

Did you know anything about the problems between Israel and the Arab World at the time?

Can I just say, haven't you got lovely eyes, lover, gorgeous eyes you've got lover, ooh I say, lover, you've got come-to-bed eyes you have, lover! No I thought Arabs and Jews were the same, foreigners. I had never heard of Israel and I thought the Middle East was Birmingham, lover. My dad wasn't very keen on foreigners, lover, he was a supporter of Enoch Powell, lover, and Oswald Mosley, he said to me: "The Englishman is the true reflection of God, all other men have been created lower so that the Englishman may have Dominion over them". He was a learned man, my father, though he had never been to school, lover.

How did you go about using your 'assets' to achieve 'World Peace'?

I wrote to Prime Minister Harold Wilson. I found out he was Prime Minister from an article in 'Tit Bits', lover. I sent a photo of me in my Miss Worcester bikini and asked him if he wanted a closer look? I told him what Herbert Short had said, lover, and offered my services to achieving world peace, lover.

Did he reply?

Yes, lover, straight away, in person! I had to hide the letter from my Dad who hated Labour, lover, and read it in my bedroom.

What did it say?

 Harold Wilson wanted to meet me, lover, in person! He asked me if it would be possible for me to travel to Salisbury, he would pay, and meet him at a hotel there, he said a date which was in a weeks time, lover, I was 17, lover, I had never left Worcester!

Harold Wilson (right) with 'Hubert Catskill'

 who was Wilson's double during his time in hospital

Did you go?

Yes, lover, I wrote back, just in time, and on the date I caught the train to Salisbury. I sold my vouchers from the Miss Worcester competition to pay for my ticket! Harold Wilson said he would give me the money when I got there, lover. I got to the hotel, lover, and asked the receptionist for a mister 'Hubert Catskill' which was the name Harold had told me to use, lover. I was wearing a mini-skirt which was all the fashion then, white knee-length boots and a low-cut top, and my 'Mary Quant' hair do, which I was very proud of, lover.

Weren't you worried? I mean didn't you think it was a bit strange: meeting in a hotel in Salisbury, Wilson using a false name?

I thought it was for security reasons, I really did, lover, I thought we were going to talk about 'World Peace'. Anyway, this porter showed me to a room on the top floor and I knocked and Harold Wilson answered, lover. He was wearing a mac and he had no shoes on just his socks! I noticed that he had no trousers on under his mac and he smelled strongly of Cologne, lover. He asked me in and he was looking me up and down, lover. He looked just like he did on the telly apart from not wearing any trousers, lover!

What did he say?

He asked me if I liked his mac, which of course I said I did, lover, he said it was a 'Gannex' mac and that he owned the company that made them.
He asked me to walk up and down the room like I had in the 'Miss Worcester' show, lover, I noticed that his mac was sticking out at the front and that he was holding on tightly to a chair, lover.

That's horrible, what did you think? That must have been really scary!

I was naive, lover, I thought it was his hand or something! Anyway he asked me to pick something up off the floor, lover, which would have meant bending down in my mini skirt. I had learnt how to bend down gracefully, lover, something they taught you at 'Miss Worcester', I picked up the thing on the floor, a spoon I think, without showing my knickers!

What happened next?

He lunged at me! He was breathing heavy and he went to grab me, lover, I dodged him but he kept on trying to grab me round the waist! By this time his mac was sticking out like a tent, lover, so I grabbed it and yanked it down like this, lover, he fell on the bed, groaning and I ran for the door, lover.

Barbara demonstrates how to bend down in a mini skirt (1968)

What did you do next?

Well I had no money, lover, I only had a single ticket from Worcester, Harold was supposed to have paid for me, Lover, I had to phone Dad and tell him what had happened, he was so angry! My Dad had been in the army, lover, and he still had army friends on Salisbury Plain, the army bases, you know, lover, so he must have arranged for some of them to sort Harold out, if you know what I mean, lover.


How did they do that?

Well I can't really say too much, lover, but it took three days to clear up the mess and the dogs were so excited they had to be caged for a week and slowly weaned off raw meat. Harold was in hospital for six weeks, lover, and they had to use a double for that period. Labour lost a by-election and Harold lost his manhood!...lover.


more later