MEN BEHAVING BADLY SUMMER SPECIAL!

Hello,and welcome to the June edition of The Autolycan.

We can probably dispense with the preliminaries for the main story fairly quickly.  Hands up all those who were as thrilled and delighted as I was to see that several of the lads in the dock for the Hatton Garden job are in their 60s and 70s.  Yes, I thought so.  That's most of you.  I was so pleased I felt they deserved a ballad, a rare accolade for The Autolycan. What a great achievement for the older man!  What could possibly go wrong?

THE BALLAD OF THE DIAMOND GEEZERS

Hatton Garden heist : three OAPs including a 76 year old among 9 arrested by police hunting thieves                                                                                                                     

                                                                                                                 Daily Mirror            

The nights they were long and the snow lay around,

The kids they were bored and the parents just frowned,

The toys were long broken; the telly inept,

Their spirits were broken; their hearts never leapt -

But a thunderous banging that near broke the door

Meant misery banished and dullness no more!

''Tis Grandad!, 'Tis Grandad!'; his visit unplanned,

He stood looking baffled, the knocker in hand,

'Well that's a bit flimsy! It's all a bit loose,

I just give it a tap, that isn't much use!

That's poor DIY girl, it's one of his traits,

He's only used 6s, they ought to be 8s.'

But the kids were not bothered. 'Twas Grandad! A story!

'Just tell us a tale! No matter how hoary!

A story! A story! And one that will please us!

Let's have a good one! The Diamond Geezers!'

'Alright then,' he said 'if you're sure you won't sprag,

Get me some tea and I'll just have a fag.'

And wandering from the acceptable track, he

Fumbled around and then took out his baccy

And rolled up his cig and then sat there amid

A great cloud of smoke that was pungent, acrid

(Which appalled and astounded his dutiful daughter

Who'd kill him if poisonous glances could slaughter.)

But his tea and a couple of fags now sufficed

To tell them the tale of the Dad's Army heist.

'There was Scarface and Crusher and me,' he began,

'And I was the leader, the senior man.

And though I don't hear very well now I'm older -

And I'll never be free of the pain in this shoulder -

I still carry clout in the criminal classes -

Provided, that is, I remember my glasses.'

'The driving,' I thought, 'why not leave it to Crusher?

He's steadfast and staunch, no speedster or rusher,

He's careful, he's prudent, still signals by hand,

Though he gets a bit lost round the Aldwych and Strand.'

His sense of direction is somewhat bereft,

So he often confuses his right and his left,

But his passengers do get a bit of a fright

On the days he confuses his left and his right.

Scarface's job was to gather supplies -

A lad for a bargain, he likes his best buys -

So I told him to stock up on food and on booze,

But nothing that's likely to leave any clues.

I must say I started to harbour a doubt

When he came back with nothing but Mackeson Stout,

And his choice of confectionery scarcely elates -

Werther's Originals, packed into crates -

(Only the plain ones, so I bear a grudge,

'Cos I like the ones with the caramel fudge.)

Me, I made sure we'd got all the right gear,

And knew how to use it, made sure they was clear.

The drill was no problem in Scarface's view,

He'd got a nice cheap one from up B and Q.

'Not at full price, though' he said with a scoff,

'I got it on Wednesday with 10% off!'

But I give 'im an earful, I felt a bit guilty,

I said 'What you need for the job is a Hilti.'

So Good Friday come and we're stood in the breeze,

With a sneeze and a wheeze and our arthritic knees,

Not one of us now in the first flush of youth -

To be honest we're all a bit long in the tooth,

And 'cos it's so chilly I now need the loo -

And it isn't just me 'cos there's now quite a few -

And Crusher is wishing he'd put on a vest,

'Cos the cold and the damp will play hell with his chest,

And Scarface complains of his strains and chilblains

His bowel condition, his prostate, his pains....

So I rise to the challenge and silence the rabble,

'We'll start off inside with a quick game of Scrabble!'

Then once we're inside and we've finished the game,

And argued the toss over words like 're-blame',

So then I set up the big drill and I oil it -

And once everyone present has been to the toilet -

We all set to work and we take up our duty,

And drill our way through to the room with the booty!

We finally crack it, pass through with a cry,

We enter the vault...... but have no idea why.

Why have we come here? Not one of us knows,

We're scratching our heads and we're staring at toes.

So we clamber back through and then come in again -

We oldies do this to to awaken the brain -

Enlightenment dawns! We've come here for thieving!

We all get stuck in, there's nobody leaving,

(Though Scarface breaks off with a sigh and a frown -

His back's playing up and he has to lie down.)

We open the boxes and snaffle the loot,

But then there's a row, a major dispute,

Crusher complains that his car's overloaded -

Suspension is dodgy, the sub frame's corroded,

Refuses to drive it in case he gets nicked,

'I've six points already, I've got to be strict.'

So we make our way home without any jewels -

Incompetent robbers, half-witted fools!

We've made not a penny, in vain were our toils,

Then Plod finds the car and its cargo of spoils.....

So we end up in court where there's sneering and jeering

And now we can sense the finale is nearing,

And the beak's so short sighted, he's helplessly peering.

And I mutter something what's meant to be searing,

'Speak up!' pipes the beak, 'I'm a bit hard of hearing!'

'Oh, Grandad! How awful! The robbery failed!

Oh, Grandad! That's dreadful! And were you all jailed?

Clapped into irons? Sent down for life?

Brutality, beatings and violence rife?'

But Grandad was silent, his specs now awry,

His eyes gently closed and he made no reply,

He started to snore but they took no offence,

That's often what happens to elderly gents!

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Before we get on to Anagram Corner, here's a more serious bit.  I've been writing this blog for about two and a half years now and have been wondering if there's any scope for using it to raise a bit of money for charity.  People I've spoken to about this reckon there's no chance unless I can increase the readership significantly, and that the best way to do that is via Facebook and Twitter.  You may have noticed that there is now a Facebook badge at the top of the page, and there are also several buttons right at the bottom for you to share the posts with friends, if you so wish.  When I post a new edition I will now also send a tweet about it, which might help raise the profile of the blog.  Don't know how far I'll get with this, but I'm keen to explore it and see what happens!

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24 HOUR ROLLING ANAGRAM CORNER

I decided a week or so ago that there was only one real contender for Anagram Corner this month, and was quite pleased with 

     ME, PRESIDENT BLATTER

EMBATTLED SIR, REPENT!

Whilst of course it was gratifying that Sepp clearly found out what line The Autolycan was about to take and promptly resigned, it meant my topical anagram wasn't topical any more and so I had to think again :

 I, EX PRESIDENT BLATTER

     TRIBAL SERPENT EXITED

And as a special Men Behaving Badly bonus...............

There once was a fellow named Blatter,

Whose wallet grew fatter and fatter.

He's now taking bribes

To help organise 

The Winter Olympics in Qatar!

Don't forget Facebook and Twitter!