The usual morbid carousel of mouth-breathery, wrongness and rubbishy football teams
1 December
Some bloke from Sherwood gets done in Crown Court for going all mental when the Molotov cocktails he’d made especially for the riots got smashed up in the carrier bag, and he ended up attacking a car with an estate agent sign after local scamps shamed him up. Sucky bleeder – didn’t he know he could have got one o’ them cardboard wine carriers from the Co-Op round the corner? They’re perfect for that sort of thing.
2 December
East Midlands Ambulance Service announces that it has suspended one of its paramedics for taking massive lungfuls of laughing gas at the wheel of his ambulance over a period of five months. Imagine; you’re lying under a bus, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, only for someone to pile out, screaming; “EEE HEE HEE! This ‘un’s gonna snuff it if we don’t – HA HA HA! LOOK! HE’S WAZZED ‘IMSEN!”
9 December
May Contain Notts, whilst walking down Heathcote Street and sadly reflecting on the fact that people look at it funny when it calls it by its proper name of ‘Effcut Street’ – sees Notts County manager Martin Allen coming the other way with his partner, doing a chicken impersonation. With the flapping elbows and the jerking head and everything. For a moment, I thought he was having a go at me, but apparently not – he just did it because...I don’t know.
13 December
It is announced that Nottingham has been named as one of the 20 cities earmarked for a local TV service. May Contain Notts has already put in its bid for the Trisha/Jeremy Kyle slot. It’ll be called What, You’re Having Sex? YOU? Jesus Christ Some People’ll Shag Owt, will be hosted by me (dressed like Vincent Price in Witchfinder General), will have less of an aftercare service, no cutting away when the fights start, a guarantee that there’ll be no reuniting people with their family because that’s boring, and a lie detector with flashing bits and levers that spews out tar and feathers onto folk.
14 December
Oh, and after the second inconclusive DNA test, I smack a large red button, a chase sequence starts up, picking out every man in the audience in spotlights, and whoever it stops upon is legally bound to take full responsibility for the child.
15 December
A mentalist from Bingham gets done for getting on a bus to town wearing a stab-proof vest and carrying a sword with a swastika inscribed on the hilt, two batons and a cosh, and proclaiming that he was ‘going to war’ on his ex and her new bloke. Can you imagine the faff it must have took for him to find enough change for the ride? I’d have been tutting very loudly while he put his Nazi sword down and fiddled under his vest, thinking; “…and I bet he sits next to me now.”
25 December
Santa comes.
30 December
The police announce the top 3 pubs and clubs they got called out to in 2011 – Walkabout, Yates and Flares/Reflex/Revival/Whatever stupid name they’re calling themselves nowadays. An excellent move, and let’s see more of it. It’d be great to have a proper league going, with the usual suspects in a Premier League of violence, trying to get into Horrible Mong-Barn Europe or summat and having a transfer window for the biggest headcases.
31 December
Loads of people get the arse with the Council for forgetting to tell them that there wasn’t going to be a fireworks display at the Castle for New Years Eve, so they were all standing there like spare cocks at a wedding. If they wanted to see loads of fireworks going off, they should have gone to Bestwood. Actually, they could still go there now – some bell-end’s bound to be letting some off, even in February. During the day.
2 January
Forest finally score a goal after not being able to in 635 minutes of competitive foootball. Put that into perspective; that’s the equivalent of over seven Sol Campbell careers at Notts County.
6 January
That Margaret Thatcher film opens. May Contain Notts hopes it’s still on, as it really wants to go and sit on the front row, watch the first five minutes where she’s wearing a big nappy and getting liquored up and unable to remember where her own arsehole is, and then stand up, clap its hands together, say; “That was brilliant! Let’s have a pint!” and then walk out when it gets to the flashback bits where she shags over the country.
7 January
Some Forest mouth-breathers chant “England, England, England, you're not anymore, you're not anymore, you used to be English, you're not anymore” at Leicester supporters during the FA Cup game. Seeing as Leicester still has some factories, they have a point – but then again, Forest used to be Forest, and it’s not anymore.
8 January
After the arrest of Antony Worral Thompson, Tesco announce that it will be introducing new measures to deter self-checkout theft such as employing local morons to pay for frozen pizzas entirely with two pence pieces, spending up to five minutes trying to locate the barcode on a jacket potato, and generally holding up the queue by behaving like a lobotomised gibbon on smack trying to operate a Space Shuttle – a scheme that has been successfully trialled in their Victoria Centre branch for the past three bastard years.
9 January
The Post has a redesign, putting that Robin Hood logo out on its ringpiece, dropping the ‘City Of Legends’ thing and looking even more like something free and rubbish that gets pushed through a letterbox every Thursday in Kimbleh.
10 January
Part one of Coppers on Channel 4. Bleddy hell.
12 January
The lighter-and-Rizla stall opposite Wilko is selling gas masks with bongs embedded into the mouthpiece, which is pretty much the suckiest bit of drug paraphernalia I’ve ever heard of in my life. And I’m from that generation that thought that going to a club and listening to Altern 8 with a dust mask full of Vicks Vapo-Rub constituted an acceptable night out, so I know what I’m going on about.
14 January
Moog shuts down, and another part of Nottingham’s soul disappears forever. May Contain Notts cannot believe that it will never again stagger out to the fag courtyard, fiddle with the weird spinning letters on the wall, and turn round and shout “WAHEYYY! IT’S BUMTIME!” at a load of randoms.
15 January
And it was even funnier when you were with someone called Tim.
16 January
Part two of Coppers on Channel 4. Christ on a crisp packet.
18 January
A 14 year-old lad from Gedling gets sent home from school because of his new haircut. I’ve seen it, and it’s rammell – a mere gelled-up confection of the sort that estate agents in NG1 would sport. In my day, you had to pull some serious business to get sent home from school, like have a fanny shaved into your scalp, or be caught demonstrating how you could get a pound’s worth of silver coins under your foreskin. In old money, as well.
18 January
And no, that wasn’t me. I’d be lucky to get a chip-and-pin under mine.
20 January
It is announced that Nottinghamshire Police have had the joint biggest drop in crime reduction across the country last year, which has always confused me. Why are they taking the credit for less crime? Surely, it is Nottinghamshire’s chatty bell-ends and meatheads who should be applauded here, for being 11% less arsed about nicking stuff and hitting folk in 2011. Hurrah for the scab-bags!
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