The Director General has failed again and again to reply to my suggestions for great new programmes and I really am losing my patience. I bet he's not even read them. I bet he's sitting in a jacuzzi right now at the Trans-TV Mansion with Sofia Vicoveanca, Lidia Bejenaru, Laura Lavric and any other floozies still lying around after last Saturday night's 5 hour extravaganza of folklore and cookery. So, I've summoned up all my energies for this last attempt to get his attention. It's the big one.At Home With The Wurzels
A reality TV show. With a bit of luck, the last one ever made. As must now be yawn-inducingly evident to anybody reading this rubbish, this place does peasantry very very well. Get Germans to make your cars, Frenchmen your food, and Italians for design, fashion and everything else that’s totally meaningless, but if you want a bit of land cultivated and not too much backtalk, employ Transylvanians. But this puts me in a dilemma, for (1) not only am I still homesick but (2) I now also have a freshly awakened taste for yokels wearing silly costumes - they look great, dance and sing, make their own hooch and they’d give you their last plate of pork dripping. The only people who can administer to both these needs and so fill this aching chasm in my soul are The Wurzels. (The concept's not as daft as it seems: think, America's awash with stumbling ex-junkies yet chose to take Brummie Ozzie Osborne to its heart). And, here’s the clincher, does anybody remember Graeme Garden on I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue singing these words to the tune of Beethoven’s Ode To Joy? That’s the Anthem Of The European Union, ladies:
“I am a cider drinker,
I drinks it all of the day,
I am a cider drinker,
It soothes all me troubles away,”
(all together now, Europhiles, especially Daphne...)
“Ooh aargh ooh argh ooh aargh ooh argh ooh argh ooh aargh ooh argh aay,
Ooh aargh ooh argh ooh aargh ooh argh ooh argh ooh aargh ooh argh aay.”
The Wurzels have the right look, but I doubt they could do the accent. Do all female singers in Romania have butch voices? There must be a Romanian Kate Bush somewhere.
ReplyDeleteThe Wurzels are about to make a big comeback if a plan set out in The Daily Mash to build a giant statue of their lead singer to welcome guests to the South West goes ahead. So Trans-TV had better book them fast.
ReplyDelete"Get Germans to make your cars, Frenchmen your food, and Italians for design, fashion and everything else that’s totally meaningless"
ReplyDeleteAnd ze Eenglish, what are they good for?
The Wurzels are a class act.
Yes, what can the English do? We can do the weather forecast; make the tea; and....?
ReplyDeleteSx
Brits can 'grumble on a bit' as a national sport Scarlet
ReplyDeleteKate Bush went more for the Bulgarian sound didn't she? but I think you're on to a winner with the Wurzels Gadj, d'you think there'd be as much swearing as in the Osbournes or aren't the Romanians into that kind of thing?
Good God, I grew up to the Wurzels. Not in an abstract, white-trash, trailer park sort of way (although that is accurate) but in a no, their last name really was/is Wurzel.
ReplyDeleteYikes!
Pearl
In some parallel universe an American directory enquiries company is hiring The Wurzels to sing in one of their adverts.
ReplyDeleteWe ain't afraid of no bit of string tied round the trouser ankles.
You've just reminded me to add Wurzel Gummidge to my 10 top books list on Facebook. Try singing the words to "I've got a brand new combine harvester" to Ode to Joy - it nearly works.
ReplyDeleteBanana's, apparantly one of the Wurzel's is Scottish and another one is from The Forest of Dean, which is almost Wales, so I reckon they must be pretty good at putting on accents!
ReplyDeleteBoyo, I'm thrilled to hear this news, and would very much like to drive through the mouth of this aforementioned giant statue when leaving the M4 at Junction 19.
Dr Francis, Young Miss Scarlet and lovely lovely Lulu, the English are good at Comedy. If this very blog isn't enough to convince you of that, look at how often we've won top entertainment accolade The Golden Rose of Montreux: about 50% of the time, as it happens, starting with The Black and White Minstrel Show in 1961. Case proven.
Lulu and Bananas, Kate did indeed go more for the Bulgarian sound, and it only added to her loveliness. I'm ashamed to say that I only know one Romanian swear word - and it's so taboo that I can never use it.
Pearl, hah, terrific - if only The Wurzels had broken the American market then your former neighbours would never have heard the last of it!
Kev, the American accent is said to be derived from West Country Country English, isn't it? (Hence the more pronounced "R" sound they have over The Pond). The Wurzels would find a welcome there.
Daphers, everything could - and should - be sung to the tune of Ode to Joy, then all the peoples of the world could live in peace, etc. Cringe-making: the most embarassing aspect of that TOTP video is surely Dave Lee Travis.
To my shame, it was only in my middle life that I realised the Freudian symbolism in the lyrics of 'Combined Harvester'
ReplyDeleteI always knew it was smutty.
ReplyDeleteSx
You had a head start: you think *everything* is smutty! (-:
ReplyDeleteDo not talk to Scarlet about Head Starts, I beg, Kevvers. She will only vulgarise this thread further and take the discourse to the gutter. I absolutely refuse to believe that one of the Wurzels is Scottish; the whole thing is beyond reason. However, I do like a man in a smock, a proper gathered one, with embroidery and oversized buttons. Also, I have no objection to a bucolic accent, and I quite like lounging against 5-bar gates whilst idly chewing on a stalk. I am an Englishwoman in her prime.
ReplyDeleteThe Forest of Dean was expelled from Wales under The Druids for bringing miners, trees, incest and small trains into disrepute, Gadjo. We'd have them back now, mind.
ReplyDeleteKevin, Scarlet, there is Fraudian symbolism in the lyrics to "Combine Harvester"?? Ah, "key", "combine", "seed", "I can't wait to get my hand on your laaaand" - you could be right!
ReplyDeleteMrs Pouncer, welcome back, and my apologies for not having visited your blog recently. "Lounging against 5-bar gate"... is another post I feel coming upon me. You are indeed in your prime, we are your creme de la creme, if you get what I mean.
Boyo, it looks quite Welsh, in a nice, soft, leafy, Southern Welsh kind of way. I personally hope that you do get it back.
Gadjo, wake up and smell the cider: "I drove my tractor through your haystack last night/Ooh-aar ooh-aar!"
ReplyDeleteStrewth, Kev, how did that one pass me by! But then the next line is "I threw me pitchfork at your dog to keep quiet", which I'm as yet unable to decode. Any ideas?
ReplyDeleteAnything to do with milkmaids and haystacks.. is smutty...
ReplyDelete...chewing on a stalk or sucking on a straw...
Sx
There's nothing worse than a dog deciding to join in the fun, Gadjo. Adolescent rule of thumb:
ReplyDelete1: remove dog from room
2: remove cat from room
3: remove parents from room
4: memorise plan of room so that you don't accidentally propel yourself, the rug and your partner into the fireplace
Scarlet, "milkmaids and haystacks", yes, you're right. There's certainly something Fruedian about milkmaids.
ReplyDeleteKevo, also, dog could rip the lady's knickers off before you're ready for that part of the action, or the cat could start playing wiyth the condom before you've got it on properly. The parents have DEFINITELY got to go.