Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Some more practical help

On the television (you know, Pamela, that friendly shiny box in the corner of the room, that drowns out the sounds of the whining and droning of the people you live with, and generally makes existence tolerable) just now, on the BBC news, a judge, who for some reason was the subject of a news item said the following (now pay careful attention please):


“You don’t practise as a solicitor in Scunthorpe for 20 years without being in touch with reality”.


Before I discuss the implications of this let me help those of my readers from foreign parts (A Mrs Trellis of North Wuhan) by giving you some information about:

  • Solicitors. Solicitors are lawyers. They are not necessarily those who solicit for sex on the city streets, but it would be inaccurate to say that the two professions had clear boundaries.
  • Scunthorpe. Scunthorpe is an obscure town in Lincolnshire famous only for being banned as a domain name on the web, and for having a very ordinary football team that nevertheless provided three England captains.

So there is the ultimate secret of the path to liberation revealed. Who would have thought of that one? I am not sure whether conveyancing in Lincolnshire is more or less difficult than sitting naked in a Himalayan cave, but for the former we have the testimony (of a judge, no less) to its efficacy. So for those seekers of truth out there, the path is now illuminated. All you need is a law degree and the wherewithal to withstand the cruel winters in the east of England. Buy a home in Scunthorpe (motto “It’s close to Cleethorpes”) and simply wait for enlightenment.



I am off to produce some best sellers.

A Search in Secret Humberside.

Meetings with remarkable barristers.

The Bhagavad Grimsby.

The Tibetan Book of the Tort.

21 comments:

Dave said...

I lived in Lincolnshire for quite a few years. Not the cold depressing north, but the warm, sub-tropical south (well, Boston, actually, which i note has the 2nd-higest suicide rate in teh country, and England's most obese people [the two things are may, or may not be linked]).

I am neither dead nor terribly overweight, so me leaving there probably tipped the scales (not literally, of course).

I wasn't a lawyer, although I did fight some. (Both literally [well, wargaming] and in the adversarial-style of negotiation that was my wont ,as an insurance claims inspector.)

I am not in touch with reality.

Dave said...

Nor is my typing up to much. Sorry. My finger are cold and my kidneys ache.

The Murphmeister said...

I thought when he left Scunthorpe it changed its name to "Shorpe"?

tom909 said...

Well, if moving to sCUNThorpe (fuck this sodding caps lock) or sitting in a cave in the Himalayas are an essential on the path to liberation, I am well and truly in the shit. I ain't gonna do either - far too bloody busy right now.

Richard said...

And a past England captain at another sport played for them, didn't he.

Solicitors in Scunthorpe. They'll be wanting to live in caves next.

raincoaster said...

I get the first part, but what does "horpe" mean? Are yours big enough for people to live inside? Now I see why Madonna had to move there.

Vicus Scurra said...

Didn't take you riffraff very long to drag this down to a very base level did it?

Mark Gamon said...

I'm just sitting back waiting for Cherry Pie's take on this one. Should be good, I reckon...

Pamela said...

See vicus dear? You could have avoided this entire post and it's subsequent comments had you not turned on your telly.


Tommy, I'm concerend about your potty mouth again. I don't think hanging around with vicus is good for you..

realdoc said...

Shit, now I see where I went wrong in life. I shall have to reapply to university, take a law degree and move to Lincolnshire to find enlightenment. I thought it was down to reading books, meditation and Abbott Ale.

Vicus Scurra said...

Pamela, but then, you silly billy, I would not have been in a position to pass on all of this helpful data to all of these people would I?
Realdoc. It's a good job you read this then, isn't it?

hwmiot - a person of dubious mental prowess whose symptoms are not due to problems in the unconscious part of their being, but in the hwm. Finding out about the hwm happens after 12 years in Scunthorpe, having successfully managed to negotiate a mutually advantageous divorce settlement to a swede farmer and his pouting wife.

ziggi said...

Who is this reality anyway? and how long has he/she been in Scunthorpe? why should we get in touch? what for?

As usual I don't un derstand what you're talking about . . .

Frontier Editor said...

Now that I'm no longer an editor, I feel magically free to make stupid comments on this . . . wait, i felt that a long time before . . .

Cherrypie said...

Reality is the pseudonym of a rather tactile member of the judiciary known to grant late-night warrants in his chambers for solicitors who really should have known better. After one too many sub poena, I swallowed. My pride and moved my practice to Hull, but not before witnessing Beefy Botham on the steps of the local Magistrates' Court.

We also gave you Tony Jacklin, Donald Pleasance, Joan Plowright, Liz Smith ( Nana on the Royle Family) and Scampi flavoured Nik-Naks.

We are now leading the battle against yob culture with pink streetlamps to highlight acne, thus ridding the town of pimply youths.

It's delightful. Please someone come and rescue me. Quick.

roesigy - a lone smoker on the Westcliff estate

Vicus Scurra said...

CP are you a native of Scunthorpe? Thank you for bringing such a wealth of information to these pages. I wish the others would follow your lead.
I went to Gainsborough once. I could write about that some time.

Mark Gamon said...

CP - that is possibly the most elegantly misplaced full stop I've ever seen.

Cherrypie said...

I confess to having been born in Ward 7 of Scunthorpe Hospital. In mitigation, I have never actually lived within the parish boundary of Scunthorpe itself but enjoyed a more middle-class existence in the beautiful ( honestly) outlying villages.

I believe they still burn witches in Gainsborough.

Vicus Scurra said...

There is no need to apologies for your Scunthorpian connections, CP, I doubt whether any of us have ever been there. We might have negative impressions because of its association with the steel industry and proximity to the dour Humberside area, but Lincolnshire is pretty damned pleasant, is it not?

Bock the Robber said...

Greetings from Limerick, Ireland, where we revere Scunthorpe United. Isn't it wonderful to see them in second place? And it can't be long before they displace Forest, whom they dismantled 4-0 not so long ago.

The only worry is that they'll sell Keogh and Sharp in January, which could easily happen. Then we'll find out how serious Wharton is.

Three England captains?

True enough. And perhaps even four, if Jacklin ever led out a squad, though I don't know about that.

Where would you include Taylor in your list?

Vicus Scurra said...

Bock. How nice. Another nation represented. Please make sure you post all comments in the form of a limerick so that we believe you.
I just need a new correspondent from Clerihew, South Dakota to have the set.

Bock the Robber said...

Vicus Scurra, I must apologise for the delay in replying.

The hurt I felt from your last response laid me low, and it's only now that I find myself able to reply. Following therapy.

As a Limerick-based Scunthorpe United supporter, I want to assure you that we follow your every move in the third division - sorry, in League One. Not only that, but we will all three of us be heading your way in February to support the Iron.