If Kate had an Oz garden would it be Kate's Bush?

Driving from New South Wales state to Vitoria state in Ozland was a real treat. The roads are clear and the scenery amazing so the sheer mileage didn't matter. Especially with in-car music from Men At Work and Crowded House. There's so many reminder signs on the road side to take a break from driving. Feeling drowsy, pullover. Microsleep kills. Tired eyes? Have a powernap. Personally I think it's dangerous to have a powernap while driving so I kept awake while we travelled from Eden to Lakes Entrance on the south east coast. We passed black trees from the worst bush fires from last year. It's hard to believe that the roads we travelled on were melting as people tried to escape.

Alan the Kangaroo really got into the swing of things at Lakes Entrance in Victoria. We stayed in a log cabin with Alan, along with the token BBQ, lots of bush and strange sounding animals outside. I still can't look anyone in the eye when they talk about the bush though. All those adjectives they use, like, thick black bush. It's just hard to keep a straight face.

Roo spotted having a beer

After driving along the east coast from Sydney we ended up at a place called Mollymook. What a great place to stay, right on the beach. Total contrast from the city life around Sydney, this was a chilled out place where a few surfers would gather. I managed a run along the long beach in total contrast to Tynemouth a few days before as you can see from the photos.

We caught Alan the Kangaroo having a beer by the pool overlooking the beach just after I'd put a few things on the Ozzie BBQ. He's so cool, his cape keeps him in the shade in the hot sun.

How's it going? (It's Ozzie for Areeet)

Sydney, Australia is an amazing city. It's got everything you want. City life, good weather, good food and loads of beautiful beaches a small ride away. We went along to the famous Bondi beach where they show off surfing and looking beautiful. I fitted into the latter category of course. Take a look at Alan the Kangaroo at Bondi beach just soaking up the atmosphere, he goes brown so quickly. He had sunburn so we put a cape round him.

With such an American influence on the culture, Sydney was mobbed by fans for Oprah Winfrey who was doing one of her pointless shows at the Sydney Opera House. They ruined the Harbour Bridge by putting a massive 'O' hanging from it and lighting it up. I think it was to represent the size of her stomach, to scale.

I now know why it's called a pelican crossing, I took this photo in Sydney at a Fish Market. A proper fish market with loads of choice from fresh lobsters to huge prawns. I bought a Barramandi and cooked it for the girls. They loved it, I loved it.

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog

A weekend of weather, conversations about the weather, media reporting the weather and experiencing the weather. For all those overseas readers who don't know or don't care, there has been an onslaught of snow, ice, thunder, lightning, hail stone, wind, and severe cold. I've seen cars facing the wrong way on motorways, traffic going nowhere, snowboarders on the coast and a fox walking through the streets. Yes an urban fox we also hear more about in the media, maybe on its way to take a chunk out of the cheek of a sleeping baby. Some foxes like the one on the right can't be bothered to use stairs so they take an escalator. Earlier it was seen with its legs crossed reading a novel upside down on the underground tube.

So, do you know what is unique about the title of this blog? It contains all 26 letters of the alphabet. A pangram.

The proof of fat & funny

The peoples' champion. Loved by all. Funny. Down to earth. Rotund. A master of his game. No it's not Colin, it's Peter Kay. We went to see him at the over sized Metro Arena venue for Tour That Doesn't Tour - Tour. I want to tell you all about it but don't want to spoil it. There's all new material and it's Peter at his best where he talks about normal everyday things we all relate to from dentists to technology like Sky+. He drops in a few of his old catchphrases just to remind you that bread is not just bread and cake can be made of cheese.

It's well worth waiting for the encore because it's absolutely inspired, bringing together jokes from the show and pure visual, musical genius he does so well. So this definitely proves the notion that a lot of fat people can be funny and not just to look at while they try and reach their other hand while clapping. Some of them at the show however could not stand up when it came to the long rapturous standing ovation for Peter.

Something in the sea water

I'm from that seaside town of South Shields. Not only does it have beautiful coastline, beaches and a small version of the Curry Mile but it also makes stars. Apart from myself, we recently added Joe McElderry to that list, the gay X-Factor winner. Not only that but even more recent was another Masterchef finalist who worked at the Littlehaven hotel right on the coast overlooking the piers. I say another Masterchef finalist because we already have one from 3 years ago who I know. It's David Hall.

Not many people know this but apart from Ridley Scott (the extremely famous and successful movie director), Sir Frank Williams (Formula 1 Manager), Catherine Cookson and the rising new comedienne I predicted would go far, Sarah Milican; South Shields is also the birthplace for Eric Idle. Yep, the funny all round entertainer made famous from Monty Python, Life of Brian. So if you come from South Shields, always look on the bright side of life and just wait for Simon Cowell or Michel Roux to say yes. Reality TV may bring more Sandancer stars...

Speaking of Masterchef, take a look at this funny take on the recent finalists.

Turkey before Xmas? That's not right.

Visiting Turkey some years ago with friends was a right laugh (you know who you are) but the place was poor and I thought I'd never go back. However, a celebration, a 40th birthday took us there the other week to Icmeler and it was great. There were 36 of us! We took up a third of the plane and had our own coach to and from the airport. For the first time we were lucky to have a great view from our large balcony.

The all-inclusive resort allowed us to sample beer, spirits and food all day. Think we got our money's worth. I nicknamed the restaurant the 'canteen of death' as you could literally eat yourself to death. Some larger individuals were giving it a right good go, I caught one singing while in the queue for the free nosh, like a kid in a sweetie shop I reckon.

The birthday night saw us all wear 'Dawny is 40' t-shirts to the surprise of the birthday girl (see photo) who'd spent £200 on a new dress to wear. She had to pull a t-shirt over it to join in. The Germans around us were pretty confused, I can't remember seeing any of them smile though apart from when they claimed their sunbeds. That's my brother in this photo too, not a German although he did used to speak German in his sleep when he was younger.

Now I just had to take a photo of this satellite dish I passed. I'm guessing they show gay porn or something on this channel. Uncanny that on the holiday to Turkey a number of years ago a man selling his wares on the beach would shout 'Arrrrrrsmeat'. There must be a link.

No Misses but a Missus

It was so good to see that the stag from the Ibiza stag 'do' turned up for his own wedding the other weekend along at Longhirst Hall. What a great venue Liz and Alex chose for their wedding day and what a brilliant day it ended up being. Daft sweets on every table, a ninja photographer, a nervous usher, garter flashes. Loved the Lemonheads playing 'Mrs Robinson' now that Liz is an official Robinson, the song was in my head all day anyway so it topped it off as the whole wedding party surrounded them on the dance floor. Before that they snogged the face off each other while we all stuck our 2 fingers up ;)

They'll just be back from a fancy honeymoon Australia-New Zealand-Fiji. Bet they're tanned, tired and skint but have lived the dream. Congratulations, keep the marriage real.

Run Fat Boys Run...

Ah, the smell of Ralgex. The costumes that pass you. The oggy chant. The 10 mile ache. The man on top of the bus stop with his hose. The outrageous rock band playing on a roundabout. The hoards and hoards of supporting people. The strange, compelling and captivating desire. That's the desire to complete the Great North Run 2010. It's pretty tough for an old man like me whose legs now feel like Michelle Mcmanus has sat on each one and lifted her own chubby legs off the ground. You can't help not enjoy it though despite the anguished pain (the run that is not the rolly-polly-on-top-of-legs-lady). I managed a leisurely time of 2:20 this year in the 30th run. Myself and my brother Lee raised money for Cancer Research, his time was 1:59, he was always the better runner, I got the looks though. So far we've raised £558.

Along the way I shook hands with our local lad, Ant from 'Ant & Dec', passed a man carrying a fridge on his back, a man running in cowboy boots, a fireman with an oxygen tank, a Flintstones car, running bananas and many other crazy runners. Oh and a few fellas running in Speedos. Why can't it be women doing this? That way I might've knocked 10 minutes off my time.

We were lucky to have VIP passes so we got to mix with the 'stars' afterwards. David James, Ray Stubbs, Scott Mills, Molly and Graham from Corras and more. They all insisted on talking to me of course but I had no time for them as I had a pint and a homemade cottage pie to get down my neck. It was great to see the girlfriend at the end of the race too. She came running over to me, bless her. That was her run...(2011). X

If you live in the North East, you need to run this race. It's not really about the race, it's just a one-off, emotional and uplifting experience. Your legs will finally recover but your memory of the run and all its surroundings will last forever...

The lost stag

Stag and hen parties are much more varied now. Sometimes even the stag doesn't turn up. This happened on the one I've just been to in Ibiza. He turned up for the flight but not the main night out. That's because we broke him the previous night. They call him Boy Wonder, but the only thing to wonder about is if he's a man or not? Poor Alex, the pace was too much for those little legs. Hey, we all had a great time though, a good laugh, some sun, drinks, shots, sunbeds, wonder women bikinis, hand puppets, pole dancers, Norman Wisdom falling into bins, weird dancing, promotion girls and crap toasties. There was even a fella who genuinely looked like a cross between Bruce Forsthye and Alf Garnet. I couldn't get a photo of him though as I reckon he would've decked me with his trademark pose.

It was also entertaining to see that the Spanish like to name their shops after some of the British tourists in Ibiza though (see left). Andy B reckons they just sell sh*t, that's him having one on a sun lounger in my black vest.

Putting the pasty amonst the pigeon

I’ve blogged the Greggs institution before and suggested it’s becoming the staple diet of the North East but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s about to become international as I noticed that there’s an outlet directly opposite Newcastle Central Station where so many of our international visitors must arrive. But imagine their surprise and bewilderment to be greeted by a pigeon pasty. This store has bullet proof type glass in it too, just for making those visitors feel extra safe in the early hours. So what next for Greggs?

• The 18-30 Greggs holiday?
• Greggs airlines with the famous logo on the tail?
• Greggs Airline food?
• Greggs branded flip flops?
• Greggs drop-in medical centre?
• Greggs PHD’s?
• Greggs phones with a free HOTline?
• Greggs haircuts (in the style of a lattice pasty)
• Greggs crèches (for obsessed obese kids)
• THE PIGEON PASTY

When I'm cleaning burgers

We get some pretty good days when the sun is out in Tynemouth, you don't need to be abroad. We were lucky to be at the rowing club Ukulele BBQ on the beach. Sounds weird, and it was a bit odd. 10 players playing the mini instruments which look like guitars that have been in a hot wash. Being played in sync gave a few funny looks from passers by. We tried to request a Lady Ga Ga hit but they weren't having any of it. Being a competent musician myself (cough) I got to play one too, and found it quite easy as it's similar to the last 4 strings on a guitar. I did feel a bit like an elephant playing with a cherry on a cocktail stick though. We had a performance from local girl Anna Leigh who did well to sing in the hot sunshine and the smoke from the BBQ.

I also got the chance to parade my award winning Sundried Tomato and Pine Nut burgers. People flocked from all over to taste them, even the seagulls. The same seagulls that decided to swoop down nearby for a piece of chicken and in the process dropped a few shit parcels in our pints, and on my shirt. It brings a new meaning to the phrase 'shit shirt'.

Dracula just went round giving hickey's

When I was really young back in the days of no internet and when a gay man was just a man with a smile, I remember the old fashioned holiday. The British seaside resort. So I decided to treat the gorgeous lady in my life to a weekend of one for her birthday near Scarborough, at Scalby. We stayed at the Wrea Country House Hotel, a beautiful building with great views of the country side. A long walk on the Cinder Path to the seaside meant we could have a jug of Pimms overlooking the sea, where the rows of coloured beach huts were packed with people enjoying the seagull shit.

Another gem of a place is Robin Hoods Bay, a pretty little hilly fishing town, with a maze of tiny streets and cute old houses. We found a great place for a future stay overlooking the bay.

We couldn't resist a visit to Whitby too. We would've walked from Scarborough to Whitby on the Cinder Path, an old railway line, but I think 23 miles without stopping at a pub is not right. So in the car parked near the Abby we walked in and around with all the other thousands of grannies and fish and chip munchers. We too had to have fish and chips, it just has to be done. We also made sure we took a look at the real whale bones structure, it's jaw dropping. I'm still not sure Dracula really visited Whitby but the Abby must look pretty spooky at night and I wouldn't like to be kissed on the neck there.

So follow in our footsteps, I recommend these places. Pack a picnic, Pimms, a vest, a knotted hankie and inflatable stripey deck chair.

Make full use of your pole

At last I got to see the beautiful lady in my life do her thing on the water. It was great to go out in the speed boat to the north and south piers of the Tyne and watch her race for the Tynemouth Rowing Club Regatta. I was so close while she raced that I could see her big cheeks. They were puffing away with every stroke. The puffing payed off as she won her race, what a star. Even the planes from the Sunderland Air Show were in on the celebrations.

A BBQ and a bit of drinking followed of course. Oh and a spot of limbo. What a weird thing that is and pretty funny to see one girl tell us she was really good only to fall flat on her face, head in the sand and looking like a turkey twizzler. So the idea is to bend as far backwards as you can to go under a pole. A bit like the lengths some stag do's would go to on a night out in Poland.

Ride again

I looked at the title of my last blog saying that men will ride anything. The notion continues as this is a group of men riding the largest skateboard in the world. How on earth do you get your foot on the floor or more importantly how do you stop? Imagine this thing coming towards you in the park with 7 men screaming at you and one at the back sunbathing.

Men will ride anything...

The streets of Tynemouth were packed with people for the annual Mouth of the Tyne Festival this weekend. It's the sixth year and this time we got to experience the whole event with a few mad acts through the day (including a fella riding a 10 foot unicycle). On the Saturday night we were at the unbelievable setting inside the Priory on the headland with an open air concert with James Morrison. We're not really fans of his but the fact that the location is so scenic with views of the coastline and he owns a large chain of supermarkets made the whole night a bit more special. You can just make him out in this photo on the left.

The following day used the same location for a number of bands, then a performance from the Lightning Seeds. They were not that strong but for free you can't complain. By then a few more beers, with the beautiful ladies around me along with a picnic made it all worthwhile. As it was world cup final time a few minutes after the final song, you can't help wondering whether they would've performed 'Three Lions' if England had been anywhere further in the tournament. No chnace.

Just before watching the final in the pub we experienced some camp Latino dancing on the beach. At one point a bit perverted as one of the male dancers rode a donkey. A sort of Latino Bernie Clifton dressed in a Hi-De-Hi outfit.

The cow drank my beer

Wagyu might sound like a term to describe you've bagged a footballers wife but it's infact a breed of cattle fed on beer. Very informative Ian you might say now get lost, but the reason I mention this is it's not often seen on a menu in the North East. Normally you'd pay hundreds of pounds to have a wagyu filltet of beef but The Silk Room in Newcastle does a Wagyu burger for £19. It's worth a try, I had one, the flavour was delicious and the beef just melted and broke away in my mouth. Even better though, it's not shipped in from its native Japan as there's a farmer in Northumberland, Otterburn supplying and specialising in this now. I think the burger I had was a lot better than the one I won the competition with last year but mine costs about 80 pence to make.

Rhubarb Rhubarb Rhubard off

Imagine being drunk all the time. As well as loving everyone like family you might get to see the world like Roobarb and Custard did or their makers in the brilliant cartoon show from the 70's. What genius dreamt this up I often wonder? Get a few splodges of paint on some paper which just about resemble some characters, sink a few beers and try and hold the paper up in front of the camera to somehow make a story. It just wouldn't wash these days unless you had an over sized bag of popcorn, a pair of ridiculous 3D glasses that make you look like Elton John crossed with Reg Holdsworth and a Channel 4 breakdown about the program you've been watching after every advert.

I ramble on like this as I got hold of some home-grown rhubarb which I intend to cook with of course. and it always reminds me of the cartoon. Looking at it, there are so many things it could be used for but I opted for an alien hand gesture followed by another. Like Roobarb, I also like to annoy my neighbours with a polite message on the window sill.
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Who should have a fishy on the little dishy?

I don't think the North East is quite ready for a food festival just yet. It's the second year of the EAT Festival and we visited the various events in Newcastle at the weekend. It included food stalls with various over priced items, a dedicated row of stalls selling the food-of-the-moment-cup-cakes, some possessed woman on stilts pushing a hostess trolley and a man in a tomato outfit laughing at her. The most bizarre event was the one where fresh fish is delivered by boat onto the quayside, seeing them fillet it and the local chef's take it away and cook it. We actually found out that the fish is delivered by van and then carried in fish boxes by hand. I can't even be bothered to do any fish jokes, but I wasn't a happy sole.

Despite the let-downs, we still enjoyed the festival which is running for a number of weeks now. The best bit was seeing the sheer panic and sickened look from the men who tried some of the hottest chilli paste at the Chilli and Beer Festival.

Shaking nuts, shaking helmets, shaken men

It's a good job stag weekends are not more than a weekend because the abuse of the body is enough to make you want to sit in a corner and cry yourself to sleep. The first night in Leeds got off to an unusual start in the hotel bar as around 15 transvestites walked in and stood right next to 18 of us who were also men, but not dressed as women. Although one man, the stag, had a lederhosen costume on. This was not his own choice.

The next day with a ridiculous hangover that felt like I'd licked the full length of a snooker table, 18 of us went off to ride go karts and hover hovercrafts. This was great fun and it literally shook the hangover from you. I managed to get the fastest time on the timed lap for the go karting but when it came to hover crafting I let myself down, the team down and most of all, I let the hovercraft down. The stag nearly had to do the whole thing in a lime green mankini but he tried it on before the activities and with all that shaking about in the go kart we reckoned it might be both painful and cause spectator regurgitation. I was surprised to find that in our heath-and-safety-mad-country that the bag the mankini came in did not say 'may contain nuts'.

That night, we were off again, managed to just avoid more transvestites, gay bars and some generally weird looking people. At one point we did discuss the logistics of getting the stag into a formula 1 car hanging from the ceiling. We stuck to the safer option of getting his photo taken with a 'fat-lass'. Joy.

Chop my cheeks and slap me with a fish

It has to be said that Cambridge is a beautiful city, you can walk around and admire it or go on a punt on the river to see more, sing Cornetto songs and tickle the fella who does the punting. We were there at the weekend but didn't get to go on a punt or tickle anyone apart from each other as the weather on the day was a bit inclement. It meant that in between a bit of shopping and sight seeing we were forced into a couple of real pubs, with real ale, real food and the odd left over student. The Chop House was one where I had a great tasting Stone Bass (nothing to do with Bill Wyman but is actually a fish). That gorgeous girl I took along had slow cooked beef cheeks in an ale gravy. Yes that's beef cheeks, the cheek of the cow... It's all about the ale here, I washed my fish down with a canny ale called Pegasus.

More food again later for dinner at the local village pub, The Plough, but I won't bore you with what I had. We managed to sit outside for drinks in the rain, heaters on and canopies up. Only the British would do that. A good walk the following day we spotted the biggest thatch 'cottage' we've ever seen. Some people must have nothing better to do but show off with a fantastic over sized house.

We came home in style with an American Bomber. Now that doesn't mean I had some weird cocktail or curry the night before but there was a memorial day at the American Cemetery nearby and it flew over along with some jets. I'm sure the pilot dipped his wings to say goodbye to me...

Neigh Way Mee Horse Dung That

I got thinking the other day as I passed a massive portion of horse manure on the footpath. How come horse riders get away with letting their animal plop onto the pavement yet a dog owner has to carry a pooper-scooper or Morrisons bag (or a Waitrose bag if you have a four-wheel drive and have special seats for your dogs) to avoid a fine? If dog owners were riding their dogs, would that let them off the hook? I imagine that because horse poop is good for the garden, it's not seen as a hazard but I wouldn't like to fall flat in my face into one to find out. Perhaps the horse rider should have a back-pack or bin liner to attend to their ploppers-plop. Pooper-scooper doesn't sound right for a horse, so maybe a new name like 'Dung-Digger' would do.

On that same day I found the horse present, I got stuck in a long traffic jam. I later learned that this was caused by a horse which had escaped onto the motorway. Imagine having a horse coming towards you on a fast road, no wonder they go round crapping themselves (the horse not the driver...although....mmm). But look at this unbelievable story, from around the same area that horse escaped; a horse went to the cinema - it's true, read it. Clearly, there's a horse around Boldon that is really frustrated with life, goes round plopping itself, running naked through fields and onto dual carriageways. And to top it all off, wants a piece of what humans get up to, so trots off to to see a movie. Black Beauty wasn't even playing.

Frankie says...I would quite happily punch everyone in the face

You just have to laugh at Frankie Boyle (the funnier one from BBC2's Mock the Week) and his live tour called 'I would quite happily punch everyone in the face'. He's no relation to Susan Boyle although he has said that there is some resemblance as he looks ridiculous dressed as a woman too. We went to see him at the City Hall on Friday and he was a star act. He's been in the news quite a lot recently for his controversial jokes. Jokes that no one batted an eye-lid at many years ago. I must admit, he was definitely close to the knuckle on some of his jokes but still overall a very funny man with some topical material. He's the first act we've seen who didn't do an encore, perhaps he's just really pi**ed off with people, I mean if you name your tour like that you must be. Anyway, it's all an act, they are just jokes to make you laugh, wince, think and take a sharp intake of breath.

Those who are 'offended' (whatever that emotion really is) should either stay away, or start an "I am offended at everything around me" group on Facebook. Then the same people can join another group called "I am further offended by the 'I am offended at everything around me' group on Facebook". Then they can all be grouped under the generic group called 'I have nothing to do in life but be a do-gooder'.

Down the club

Haven't posted for a while as there's been some technical changes in the process I use for hosting my blog within my site. Now this has been sorted I'm back just like the Take That boys.

Crazy golf really isn't that crazy is it? Stick a few dinasours for scenery, a water feature, pebbles, stones and small children in the way of the hole and you've got yourself a crazy golf course. It still raises a few laughs though, some people take it really serious. Not me. Anyway, I went along with my caddy, golfing pantaloons and my score board and took part in a foursome! It took me back to the time I was about 9 years old, with friends on holiday. My young friend was sizing up the ball with her club, swung it forcefully back and whacked her dad right on the nose. It must've been agony, lots of blood. Oh, and Bogeys all round.

Birds, kebabs, curries...not just a night out itinery

Too many celebrations in one weekend can make you either want more or a nice lie down. A night out in South Shields was pretty hilarious seeing the same old haggard faces from many years ago who must religiously go out every Friday. They even wear the same clothes and drink the same drinks. It brought a smirk to my face when I walked past a take-away named 'Abra-Kebabra'. No guesses what they sell. The next night we went to the posher side of South Shields where the haggard faces are more nip & tuck ones, a quieter pub in Cleadon.

Now as I recently had a night out in South Shields, you'd think that I would have seen most weird birds, but at a BBQ near the beach on sunny Sunday, I snapped this one. I guess it is some sort of burlesque seagull with feathered ugg boots. Great for cleaning your blinds.

Later on we met up with friends for birthday and engagement celebrations at Tiger Tiger and Spice Cube for poppadom's and curry. As always was good to catch up and see what pointless banter is left for us to talk about. It appears there's an awful lot left.

Congratulations to Andy & H, a love match doesn't just happen in tennis, but new balls you will always need mate.

6.2 miles of fun

I cannot believe that it's a year since doing the 10K North Tyneside coastal run. It was full-on sunshine last year. This year, we had sunshine again, and no wind apart from that which came from a heavy night out the day before. It's scenic all the way and once you turn the corner to see St. Mary's Lighthouse it doesn't seem too far until the finish. I managed 56 minutes this time, a minute ahead of last year. That tells me I'm getting better or my watch is feeling as old as I did after a couple of mile. It was hard going even though I do that sort of distance every week! Seeing the girlfriend's smiling face and the thought of a whopping great Easter egg makes it all worthwhile though.

That's me with the halo in the photo behind a young Rob Brydon.