SALUTATIONS TO you and welcome to the very first chapter of The Miller's Tale. I bring shocking news that my regular weather forecasting slot has been cancelled by those unscrupulous types above my head, ie the publishers and their millions, bastards, apparently because none of you lot ever read it. Instead I've inherited my very own column with which I can do as I please. Which is nice!
The Charlton Cinema: No full house
THE RUMOUR MILL
HOW I laughed the other day when, for the umpteenth time, a herd of scooterists came at me on the wrong side of the road, round a blind corner, four-a-breast and horns a-blaring. Not that it was funny, exactly. I was merely chuckling at the rumoured new plan to force all would-be moped-aches to actually take a test before hitting the roads, rather than the current, seemingly piss-easy method which must only involve placing a vague thumb print on a nicely-printed government form, available quite freely from the post office.
There's an old adage that I'm particularly fond of that says 'What doesn't go around, comes around anyway'. It can be used to explain any number of strange goings-on, simply because Karma is a fickle and, at times, unpredictable beast.
Take, for example, the case of the much-maligned 'Old Cinema'. In it's heyday it was the very epicenter of entertainment, providing the townsfolk with a place to marvel at the latest Hollywood, nay, Stockwood blockbusters. As kids we thought of the old Flea Pit as some kind of magical palace, where the wall came to life and the curtains were very big.
Nowadays, sadly, the silver screen is more a shade of algae-green, while the place is run down and asbestos-ridden. Primitive, unintelligent, fresh-out-of-the-nest creatures have found their way into the roof space, leaving excrement and damage everywhere whilst using it for mating purposes. Pigeons also use the premises. Who could've predicted back then the pitiful demise of this wonderous building?
MILLS ON WHEELS
SO SAD to see the powers that be have opted for a temporary patch-up job on Charlton Road. Spilling some old sump oil on the road and chucking a bag of gravel on it does not a road surface maketh you silly fools. And what about the bits you've left? They'll be bare and rutted come winter. You are simply very, very retarded in your thought processes aren't you. Who elected you anyway? Oh, right.
Of course, before the by-pass stole the town's soul, the citizens of Keynsham would've rallied around and fixed the place up as good as new with little more than a tin of paint, some chicken wire and a few copies of the Bible. Even our beloved St Keyna would have shown up and turned some vermin to stone, such was the Keynsham spirit back then.
These days, the only Keynsham spirit you'll see is in Balaarrat Wines. But out there in the distance, a new force is gathering momentum. A group of local students have conjured up a cunning plan to turn the sorry pile into a place of beauty once again, replete with Youth facilites and even, yep, you guessed it, a cinema! Bravo!
ALBERT'S MINI MOAN
WITH ALL this talk of merging and closing schools, I can't help but think the population of this town are overlooking an obvious solution. Instead of rambling on about which site is best etc, why can't everybody go home, close the curtains, bin the condoms and shag like beasts possessed? If the classrooms aren't full up, fill 'em! Hell fire people, if the biggest problem in my life could be solved by a year of intense sex, I'd be bloody delighted. Knackered too. Now go and make babies.
Instead of the vandals smashing the place up, they will be given the chance to develop artistic skills and learn how to entertain themselves. They'll be free to explore the endless possibilities of music, dance, the arts and other self-help hobbies. Admittedly, most successful musicians, actors and dancers end up dead in the bath having choked on their own vomit, but at least they don't break into old picture houses whilst doing it, and whatsmore, they have immense fun along the way. Besides, all that hotel-smashing stuff only happens in London, New York, Ivybridge or Los Angeles.
DO PORN stars ever throw a sickie?
So come together good people of Keynsham and support this venture with all your might, because it's only boredom that causes kids to damage things and piss through shop letter boxes. Give them a guitar or a set of water colours and they might just change their ways. I say might because, as I mentioned already, Karma is the master of surprise. It could just be that some even bigger kids come along and level the entire site in the name of Retirement Homes.
Albert Mills email@example.com
THE READERS ASK ALBERT
Queen Srode-Shops writes: "I was walking through the park the other day alongside the river, admiring the rat that was floating just under the surface of the water, when it occurred to me that I have not yet written anything about your site. So here you go, a few open questions for you:"
• Read More Of Albert Mills' Musings
. Why is it that it's only when driving in the car park next to the fire station that you can make Starsky and Hutch style wheel screeching noises? [Albert Mills: And I thought that just happened to me]
. When's someone going to do something with the pigeon coop (sorry, bingo hall)?
[AM: Hopefully soon - see the piece above]
. Mark Williams (top snooker player) came to Keynsham a few weeks back, and the only adverts for it were INSIDE the snooker hall, what a pile of arse (not a question really I suppose).
[AM: Arse indeed! Not an answer really either!]
. Why is the new playgroup building next to Kelston school shaped like a World War 2 bunker?
[AM: Have you seen what's going in there?! Toddlers! It'll need to be bomb proof, hence the shape!]
. When's someone going to tell the guy with the metallic green Porsche that it looks silly?
[AM: Ha ha ha! Nice one centurian! You just told him!]
. When are Tripps going to go public with their 'Copies Of 'Special' Photos People Brought In
' board? [AM: Soon we hope. Online. Here!]
. Is it coincidence that the tattoo parlour is 20 feet from the printer cartridge shop?
[AM: Well spotted, but it's half the cost to get a tattoo done, and greener too!]
. Who's Harriet? And where did she get her yard? [AM: Heh! The EU want to rename it "Harriet's Metre"]
. Why did it take 6 months to realise that Charlton Road was buggered?
[AM: Because the BANES traffic dept never use it!]
. Where do the ducks go at night-time? [AM: They sleep under feather-filled duvets]
"That's it, I'll go now, um, sorry." [AM: Thanks for your letter Queen. Anyone else wanna ask questions?]
• Bloke About Town
• Citizen Cane
• Monthly Moan
• The Bottom Line
THE BOTTOM LINE
The Bottom Line has just got bigger! This month, get the low down on the Keynsham Music Festival, dubbed 'Little Glastonbury'!
Can't read? Only look at the pictures? Then we've got the perfect page for you, in the form of our handy image archive.
Having already taken Keynsham's leisure facilities to task, Eli McChurch turns his attention to Seasonally Affective Disorder.
THE MONTHLY MOAN
Anna has a pop at Bush & Blair while revealing the secret way to spend a penny in the town's bogs without catching a dose of typhoid.
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AL-SAHAF IN KEYNSHAM
The BANES Dis-Information Minister Muhammed Saeed al-Sahaf returns with bizarre claims that Keynsham's traffic is 'flowing perfectly'. GET MO!
KEYNSHAM WEB CAM 8
The Cane Shum webcam has been stolen, but it's still transmitting footage!! Where will it end up?
KEYNSHAM IS ACE!
We love Keynsham! If you need reminding,
BLOKE ABOUT TOWN
Freshly-recruited from the mean streets of Keynsham, William Bloke offers up a serving of vitriol after getting a tattoo done in town.
KEYNSHAM IS ACE!
We love Keynsham! If you need reminding,
You won't be wasting your time by writing to us - the emails you send us form the basis of our LETTERS PAGE
WHO ARE YA?
Sinners beware! The wig-wearing, whisky-quaffing law lords at Cane Shum Crown Court are out to exact justice and liberty for all. So, feel the cold sweat on your neck all you plonkers who 'park' on Bath Hill roundabout whilst waiting to enter Temple Street from the High Street. We've all seen you do it. You sit there smugly in your MPV/White Van/Volvo, pretending not to notice the irate motorists who are forced to sit in the clutch-destroying Bath Hill queues that your actions create. Why the rush man!? Can't you just wait outside the Charcoal Grill and let the through traffic go about it's business? You even do it at the other end of the High Street, by the church. The next time you prevent a fire engine from answering a shout, you might be in for a nasty surprise when you get home and find your snooker room burnt to the ground. Think once! Think twice! Think don't be a moron and barricade the roundabout.