Blagged from another Journal - Too good not to!!
NORTHERN FILM IN A NUTSHELL (Parsons & Naylor)
INTRO: And now Film set in the North - in a nutshell...
DAD: Hello. I am the Dad. And I have a very strong accent.
SON: Hello. I am the son. And I want to do something artistic. For instance, I want to be in a brass band, a ballet dancer, own a kestrel or become a stripper.
DAD: I don't want you to be in a brass band, a ballet dancer, own a kestrel or become a stripper. I want you to be what I am which is a miner, a steelworker, unemployed or an odd-job man who does painting and decorating. I either beat you, abuse you, ignore you, leave you or send you away.
SON: I am not happy at being beaten, abused, ignored, left or sent away. I try and get Mum to help. Trouble is Mum is too busy smoking, wearing tracksuit bottoms, an alcoholic or dead.
DAD: Deep down I am extremely hurt that my wife is too busy smoking, wearing tracksuit bottoms, an alcoholic or dead. But I have great difficulty in coming to terms with my emotions because I am a man from the North with a very strong accent. I bury my pain in drink, drugs, violence or chips.
SON: I am not interested in drink, drugs, violence and chips. I am interested in brass bands, ballet dancing, kestrels and stripping. And I happen to be very good at them.
DAD: I forbid you to do them.
SON: I do them behind your back.
DAD: I found out that you are doing them.
SON: I poo my pants.
DAD: Just as I am about to belt seven days out of you, I discover my emotions and break down and at this point it is very difficult to understand what I am saying because I am a man from the North with a very strong accent. Blub, blub, blah, blah, blub, blub, flat cap, whippet.
SON: I want to tell Mum but mum's not very happy. Because Mum has run out of fags. Or tracksuit bottoms. Or drink. Or breath.
DAD: I relent and I apologise to my son and try to help him with his brass band, ballet dancing, kestrel and stripping.
SON: I am extremely happy.
DAD: So am I. Because deep down I always wanted to be in a brass band, a ballet dancer, own a kestrel or strip. The trouble was my Dad wouldn't let me because he was a man from the North with an even stronger accent.
SON: Dad and I have a big hug and dance down the road into the sunset skipping between two rows of terraced houses
DAD: Or two slagheaps.
SON: Or two disused cinemas
DAD: Or two washing lines with pants on. Because we're on our way…
SON: …to Hollywood to get an Oscar.
DAD: …or straight to video having lost a lot of National Lottery Money.
(END)
INTRO: And now Film set in the North - in a nutshell...
DAD: Hello. I am the Dad. And I have a very strong accent.
SON: Hello. I am the son. And I want to do something artistic. For instance, I want to be in a brass band, a ballet dancer, own a kestrel or become a stripper.
DAD: I don't want you to be in a brass band, a ballet dancer, own a kestrel or become a stripper. I want you to be what I am which is a miner, a steelworker, unemployed or an odd-job man who does painting and decorating. I either beat you, abuse you, ignore you, leave you or send you away.
SON: I am not happy at being beaten, abused, ignored, left or sent away. I try and get Mum to help. Trouble is Mum is too busy smoking, wearing tracksuit bottoms, an alcoholic or dead.
DAD: Deep down I am extremely hurt that my wife is too busy smoking, wearing tracksuit bottoms, an alcoholic or dead. But I have great difficulty in coming to terms with my emotions because I am a man from the North with a very strong accent. I bury my pain in drink, drugs, violence or chips.
SON: I am not interested in drink, drugs, violence and chips. I am interested in brass bands, ballet dancing, kestrels and stripping. And I happen to be very good at them.
DAD: I forbid you to do them.
SON: I do them behind your back.
DAD: I found out that you are doing them.
SON: I poo my pants.
DAD: Just as I am about to belt seven days out of you, I discover my emotions and break down and at this point it is very difficult to understand what I am saying because I am a man from the North with a very strong accent. Blub, blub, blah, blah, blub, blub, flat cap, whippet.
SON: I want to tell Mum but mum's not very happy. Because Mum has run out of fags. Or tracksuit bottoms. Or drink. Or breath.
DAD: I relent and I apologise to my son and try to help him with his brass band, ballet dancing, kestrel and stripping.
SON: I am extremely happy.
DAD: So am I. Because deep down I always wanted to be in a brass band, a ballet dancer, own a kestrel or strip. The trouble was my Dad wouldn't let me because he was a man from the North with an even stronger accent.
SON: Dad and I have a big hug and dance down the road into the sunset skipping between two rows of terraced houses
DAD: Or two slagheaps.
SON: Or two disused cinemas
DAD: Or two washing lines with pants on. Because we're on our way…
SON: …to Hollywood to get an Oscar.
DAD: …or straight to video having lost a lot of National Lottery Money.
(END)