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  As the door opened we were greeted by a forty five year old man, with a balding head, who had obviously not shaved for days wearing a string vest! It was summer time so perhaps he was feeling too hot. “ Did you find it easily” Find what easily the answer to a prayer, a recording contract dreams are of made of, by the looks of things so far no, but we had found the would be moguls broken down council house very easily. On entering the interior it was clear Reg had continued his outside décor theme on the inside. There were big strips of wall paper hanging off the walls, damp patches everywhere despite it being summer and the paint work was peeling, the carpets were thread bare and stained.

  Reg didn't have a stereo system as such, and went off to hunt for a portable cassette player, he put on our impeccable demonstration tape and seemed duly impressed “ I could do a lot with this you know” What we had hoped for was an International recording contract not banging out a few dodgy cassette tapes at the local boot fares. We didn't even bother asking him about the multiple Record Labels he had listed in the Directory and duly left ASAP. I have no further comment to make about this ridiculous and embarrassing episode!

 

  Doug from the Lake District

  This character was the final straw and it was only my brother who stopped me physically attacking him, personalty I wish he had let me kill him it would be worth the jail time. Another bloke from the Melody ( misery) Maker. Now Doug was particularly interesting in as much as he was American, meaning the madness was international, of course Doug had his own record label, and a string of music business credentials as long as your arm he also had the most irritating accent. Personally I like the American accent, but he had this boring monotonous droning voice that got more boring as he went through his endless list of achievements........ the man should have been a 'Sleep Therapist' guaranteed to put you to sleep in three minutes, any more and you could go into an irreversible coma.

  However some of his patter had a ring of truth about it and like fools we decided to meet him. He was based in the Lake District we were in London. For my international reader. ( I say reader singular because I've just looked at my sales figures and the prospect of the second book being written in the Cayman Islands is looking slim) the Lake District is about three hundred miles north of London not local but ' He Who Dares Wins' as they say. At that time my brother and I were recording more of out material with a female singer called Rowan, the songs were meant for publishing i.e. for other known acts to release and she was helping us out on vocals, however she really looked the part and was used to live performances, plus she sounded really good, so if someone wanted to sign her as an artist doing our stuff, fine.

  The first inkling that we were not dealing with a music biz mogul was when Doug turned up at the station to meet us in a small old, not old, but very old Fiat, a very small Fiat at that. If his feet had been sticking out the bottom like the cars in the Flintstones it would have been no surprise. Doug actually looked like Toad of Toad Hall, a short squat man with straight longish dark hair, stubby arms and short legs a very short neck, aged about forty with tinted glasses that hid his toad like eyes.

  We trundled along to a local local public house (Bar) Doug said he actually lived across the road in a cottage but thought the bar would be a better venue. I did catch a glimpse of the terraced row where he lived, it looked like the film set of a 1930's Welsh Pit disaster movie.

  We were introduced to his business partner a slim fifty five year old grey haired Canadian man wearing sensible trousers and a boring sensible jumper. This man only had one line to input into the proceedings “ You must be clean”............ “ You must be clean” what the hell was he talking about? His view was to get a recording contact you had to have an impeccable past, that was his only real input. God help us he was the contract man. His main recommendation of an artist would not be their outstanding musical talent, and amazing stage presence but that after leaving the Covent School they had worked with Mother Teresa and were planning to open a pet refuge centre.

  Doug true to form would be running our creative efforts past the CEO of Polygram. I have no idea who the CEO of Polygram was but he must have had more people running by him than the London Marathon. He was banging on about seed capital and showing us a glossy brochure of the studio he would like to use. In this instance he had his Production Company hat on, Production Companies create finished product ready to release so to speak with a view to licensing them to distributors or labels, all the ones I had heard of owned their own recording studios.

  So on the left we had captain sensible going on about “You must be clean” and on the right Doug

  banging on about “ Seed capital”. After half an hour of the same bloody thing, I was becoming more and more agitated and the room was starting to spin, mainly with the pure monotony of it all but also because despite a four hour journey we weren't even offered lunch and eventually had to buy our own. Doug couldn't even raise enough seed capital to buy us a ham sandwich, so how the hell was he going to raise the thousands to record an album? Finally I snapped, my brother managed to grab my arm just as I was about to try and punch Doug in the head! After which the meeting drew to a swift end. You must think both myself and my brother are a pair of thugs, prone to mindless violence these people were enough to provoke anyone believe me.

  Thank goodness things have changed!

  HA ha; the string vests and fake offices have been replaced by slick TV studios and even slicker judges and presenters. The poor young hopefuls are dragged like lambs to the slaughter to have there life long dream shattered in a moment by some talentless idiot who would struggle to bang out chopsticks on a keyboard, and who without Auto Tune would sound like Kermit the Frog on drugs. It's such a shame a lot of them are great vocalists and performers who really would have something to offer. Most, not all, sink without trace, some as if someone has gone back in time and erased them completely from history, their entire family line removed at a stroke. The wonders of the music industry!

  The Local Drinkers/Smokers (Based on real people)

  These are my observations of the local drinkers/smokers in my home town SE London.....these characters hardly ever seem to be out of the local bars.....

  How can someone consume such huge amounts of alcohol and appear to be healthy?

  Answer; Their bodies have developed a completely different alcohol based biological system to the rest of us...............I am not talking about your regular alcoholics here, these people are professional drinkers and do all of their drinking in the local Public House's and Bars. Most humans are carbon and water based these characters are nicotine and alcohol based, their lungs too damaged to adsorb oxygen they suck it in through the skin like a plant and the waste products are expelled through the bowels in the form of server flatulence. Possessing an Alcohol/ Human Blood based circulatory system, with brain neurons firing messages through a new synoptic fluid consisting of 80% Stella Artois. (Lager) The brain no longer capable of normal thought translates language into a serious of grunts and slurred speech understood only by the other members of the same species. They occasionally lapse into a state of sobriety but find the experience too frightening to remain in this state for long periods, so head back to the comfort of the bar.

  Free from infection because no self-respecting virus would even attempt to infect their bodies in the certain knowledge that it would never survive in such a toxic environmental long enough to cause any damage, they can survive even the most virulent of viral infections. I should imagine if possible a vaccine from one of their blood samples could be the saviour of the human race. The unfortunate side effect being in a similar manner to being bitten by a vampire the recipient would become one of them, what a choice to make, dying from a horrible disease or becoming a bar room swamp creature!

  Should one sub come to the grim reaper to give them a decent Christian burial the liver would need to be shot. It would have developed a life of its own possibly even capable of indepen
dent existence outside the body, however the decent thing would have to be done. I have no idea what they do at Christmas the usual time of alcoholic excess. Possibly as some animals go through dramatic bodily changes to hibernate their bodies go into overdrive, or they attach an artificial liver to cope with extra burden.

  Come on Paul this all a bit extreme! To make this funny obviously I have exaggerated a bit, but trust me not much. I actually see them see everyday, as I go about my business and pass the local bars I glance inside to confirm my research and yes they really do exist. The same suspects seven days a week fifty two weeks a year. Not just in the evenings but quite often from lunch time onwards or early evening until the bar shuts. When do they eat, do they eat, what do they eat, how can they afford this life style, who knows. They must be too pissed to cook when they get home so I suppose if not totally feeding on alcohol they must stagger into a local Take Away on the return trip and follow the trial of discarded salad from the previous nights meal to find their way home

  (Salad horrible healthy green stuff Ugh! . Ed)

  Check out my other book Funny-

  CRAZY -FUNNY- BIZARRE- REAL LIFE STORIES

  Dentists/ Medical Phobias (True Stories)

  Dentists are a fine well meaning body of men and women I'm sure. Personally I have a severe dental phobia I still go but always end up in the sedation clinic, where the normal chain of events is they take my blood pressure which us already stretching my arteries to bursting point from the sheer fear of it all, and as they watch it head to previously unheard of levels send me home, saying if I bleed they will not be able to stop it, or I will have a heart attack during the procedure, with stern advice to see my GP urgently. The truth is my blood pressure is completely normal in normal everyday life.

  I'm sure I am not alone in this fear and considering my past history it's hardly surprising. My Mother was a good Mother and always made me go to the dentist. The fact that in those days the dental surgery looked like the London Dungeon or a medieval torture chamber, kitted out the latest instruments of torture laid out neatly in a row ready to inflict untold disruption to my mouth and associated teeth therein, was all part of the fun. Like all human beings I had a strong self preservation instinct, someone poking about in my mouth with a drill and various other sharp dangerous objects seemed to trigger it big time.

  The incident that finally put me firmly in the bracket of a Dental Phobic involved a Dentist who had he applied for the job of a medieval torturer would have been considered 'A Star' material and never been out of work. He had a practice, not that he needed any in South London. From the outside the building looked quite pleasant, painted white with a few well cared for potted plants adding to the impression that all was well. Even inside the waiting room was light and airy with the usual selection of magazines to read. What this waiting room actually needed was a magazine on how to write a Will and another on Traumatic Stress Syndrome, and possibly another on Self Defence.

  The surgical part of the dentists was not light and airy but dark and dingy. The windows at the rear were filthy allowing almost no daylight in. In the centre was a black and even for those days antiquated dental chair, it was hideous and foreboding with huge originally silver but now tarnished and unpolished handles and levers to manoeuvre the contraption. The dentist looked like a combination of Dr Strangelove and Rasputin.

  This was my first and thank God as it turned out my last visit to this terrible place. My brother also had a dental appointment that day, he went in first as we sat in the waiting room we could hear the drill whizzing and his screams of agony quite clearly. It was awful! I looked at my Mum and she glanced at me but neither of us said a thing. My brother had no fear of dentists, actually seemed to like the attention, but even he said to be having a few problems that day. He finally emerged holding his face and appeared to be very distressed and in some pain. He sat quietly next to Mum.

  Hooray hooray it was my turn next, my plan was that while I still had a few teeth left I could bite the dentist being a small child wrestling him to the ground and drilling him to death was not a viable option. Despite my plan he did get me in the chair prised open my mouth and began his hideous work it was agony, my poor Mother was now being subjected to hearing her other child being legally tortured with consent not by me, but by her. Why was this such a torturous experience, I will tell you why, despite it being freely available and being in wide spread use in those days this man did not use any kind of anaesthetic ??????????????

  When I finally emerged my Mother had finally had enough and went and confronted the Dentist asking for an explanation........................ his rely was “ With the modern dental drill there is no need to use an anaesthetic” His dental practice ended very shortly after when he was 'Struck Off' the list of dentists allowed to legally practice.

  Dentists today. Dentists always say 'Can you move your tongue out of the way' 'OK fine where do you suggest I move it to, it's where it is for a reason, if it were detachable I would have left it with the receptionist. These days they like to lay you back, its easier to work and saves them ending up with chronic backache which is fair enough I suppose. The fact that this make you feel even more vulnerable, and in my case this causes the stuff in my sinuses to pour down the back of my throat and generally find it hard to breath is by the by. Then there is the swallowing, you try not to swallow as its difficult with some hideous instrument stuck in your mouth, you could swallow something you shouldn't like the tooth they are trying to remove, they put a drain thing in your mouth to suck out the saliva which might be necessary but only makes things worse. Now you have another contraction sticking in your mouth..........

  Some people love the dentist...............?

  I've sat in waiting rooms where people are discussing procedures they are having, these folks are normally there for cosmetic surgery. Black fillings replaced with white, or other totally unnecessary cosmetic procedures. Yes, they end up with perfect film star teeth. So that's the teeth finished, and they look stunning. The fact that the rest of your face still looks like a cross between The Incredible Hulk and The Thing is well beyond the dentists capabilities.

  American Teeth -'Hi US readers nothing personal'

  White, so white and gleaming, how is the question, why is the other question? If you could capture the light bouncing off the Osmond's teeth and focused it on to solar panels you could probably solve the planets energy problems at a stroke.

  UK Teeth In the UK we favour the yellow stained crooked lived in look- easy to maintain by not brushing, heavy smoking, endless cups of tea and vitamin D deficiency caused by the lack of sunlight.

  MRI Scanners

  A great bit of modern kit. These things can scan you in 3D layer by layer, millimetre by millimetre.

  Are you about to have one and are feeling nervous........... stop reading now. If it's only a leg going in don't worry. If you are having a head scan do worry, worry lots. If you suffer from claustrophobia just pray. The modern ones are a lot bigger than previous models, but still a tube you will be sucked into for up to half an hour. I say sucked into but more pushed in on a rack thing with a mask like the iron man over your face. They say you can see out, which you can, there is a small mirror attached to the mask contraption from which you peer out desperately and hope for a power cut or that the scanning room catches fire. You can also listen to music, suggested tracks Verdi's Requiem perhaps. The fact that the scanner makes a noise like a pneumatic drill and is so loud you can't actually hear the music is incidental. I forgot to mention you must also remain still whilst being scanned to get a clear image, the fact that you are trembling with uncontrollable fear makes this somewhat difficult.

  Obviously to know this much I must have had one, well I nearly had one twice until I completely freaked out before I was even pushed in the tube. So I didn't have one, well I did, some kind Doctor sent me to an Up Right Open MRI Scanner. No torpedo tube, the scanning tubes/ device is either side of you, the front is
completely open and you sit in a seat between the scanning bit watching TV. If you want a break from scanning, you tell them and you can just step out for a breather. You still wear a mask to attract the magnetic field, and it still makes a terrible racket, but I actually fell asleep in it. I've had better days out then being tested for a potentially fatal illness, but have hope folks if I could mange this anybody could.

  Operations 'A major fear is that you have the wrong body part removed or operated on'

  It's wonderful what they can do these days replace hips, knees heart valves and many other life saving/improving procedures. Providing they are operating on the right part! Obviously if the operation is on something you only have one of it's straight forward enough, a heart, brain or other singular body part. It's when it gets to two things it can sometimes go wrong. In the old days the surgeon would come around the day before and mark the bit to be removed or operated on with an indelible pen. Crude but it worked, no X to mark the thing to be chopped and no operation.

  Am I making this up, no I'm not. I did a bit of research and this is a lot more common than you would think. So be sure to put an indelible pen in your hospital bag and 'The Best Of Luck' And if per chance they do cut off the wrong leg, when you get the other one done at least you will have a matching pair!

  Hunting/Ecology

  I was just watching the news about an American Dentist (more dentists) who had apparently shot a well loved lion in Africa. The animal had been tagged to protect it? He was shown with some of his other trophies all endangered species of course. They also mentioned how families liked to go on safari and take photographs of the wildlife and then go on hunting expeditions afterwards. So armed with a picture of the poor creature captured forever on camera you want to then go out and kill it. Then your photographic holiday pictures will be complete with the before and after shots. Shots being the word or crossbow, or possibly bare hands if the creature is smallish and has no big teeth to fight back with. Wonderful............