I’VE been asked to give a talk on being a reporter in the Dales to the Upper Wensleydale Ladies Luncheon Club next week.

I’ve heard they can be a tough crowd if they don’t like what they hear and are likely to pelt the speaker with bread rolls or even alcopop bottles if they’re not suitably entertained.* I’ve done a few talks before.

I once spoke to a group of school children where one pupil threw up as I was midway through a rambling story involving Prince Charles, a woolly jumper and a store cupboard.

The boy looked perplexed so I added: “He was like Wayne Rooney only better looking.”

On another occasion, a fight broke out among pupils.

“Fight, fight, fight,” I wanted to chant but didn’t.

Before anyone else gets ideas about inviting me to speak at their event, I mumble and have surprisingly few amusing anecdotes.

There’s also the chance I will get drunk and fall asleep in a corner. Only joking Upper Wensleydale ladies – I’m more of an aggressive drunk.

Talking of aggressive drunks, there aren’t any in Preston-under-Scar where villagers are unhappy about the quality of service provided by BT.

Apparently, the problems are equally as bad in nearby Redmire – aggressive drunks aplenty – where there is so little capacity that new customers have to wait until someone passes away before they can get a line. Dead man’s space in the exchange, they don’t call it, because it’s not very catchy.

Finally, I was delighted to see a local hunt going about its lawful business in fields near Catterick Garrison. It’s now been nine years since hunting with dogs was banned, yet enthusiasts still get out and about on a regular basis to follow the hounds as they follow, er, whatever it is they follow now.

In unrelated news, 28 police and RSPCA officers arrested four men, and seized seven dogs and two ferrets after raiding four properties in Stockton this week in a clampdown on illegal hunting with dogs. What scumbags.

  • That’s a lie.