Morning News - The Balance is Restored!

Mark Warr (left) & Colin Briggs (right) - Newsroom Perfection

My darling Mark Warr, had left information last night, via the Gussetphone, that I may want to adjust my knobs to pick up GMTV straight after the George Clooney of regional news, Colin his-twinkle-makes-y'tingle Briggs had given us his bulletin on the BBC. I may be pleasantly surprised he hinted.

I was intrigued; what on earth was my little poppet asking me to watch that dreadful woman that had replaced him after the Tyne Tees Newsroom Massacre. This individual, Helen PeedOn (or some such fancy) - the person who Crotchet, my pussy, aptly calls Hisssssssss - has blighted our screens for over a month.

I sat in my bed and listened intently as Colin gave us his wonderful bulletin. As he spoke Chef entered and discretely walked to the side of my bed. I took his eggs in my hand and started to bang them on my breakfast tray until I heard them crack. Then I spread soft golden butter on my baps and dismissed him.

Colin, after an effortless performance, said au revoir until his next broadcast and I reluctantly turned to ITV as instructed.

As Penny Smith (a name that's ironic as it appears the poor dear spent the same amount on her new haircut) passed us over to Tyne Tees, I started to feel nauseous. Then a nipple-tweekingly, joyous moment; there in front of me splashed over my 28 incher was my poppet!!!!!

What a stunning performance. He had clearly relaxed in his time away from our screens and Smooth Radio must certainly have been looking after him while he's been filling their slots in the early hours of the morning. It was so refreshing to hear his velvety tones and not that other creature - one is convinced there is a man standing next to a blackboard with a steel gauntlet and running the finger nails down it when she's on ... toying with the North East people.

I now have an understanding of how those people on Cilla Black's Surprise Surprise felt when they were reunited with long lost loved ones.

Balance is restored to the North East - Long may it continue!

Coleen Goes Dutch?

Crusty was knocked from her bar stool today when she read the two Roonies were expecting a baby.

How could this be, when one of them had sadly left our realm and the other wears tartan?

Then I read closer and realised it was R-O-O-N-E-Y and not R-O-N-N-I-E (I really need to change these glasses…they simply don’t hold enough).

Someone in Twitterland has been posing as Mrs Rooney and spreading disgraceful gossip and confirming reports the couple have managed to breed. However, their publicists have been adamant that Coleen’s twits are fake.

As a frequent flyer around the world of Twitter, along with my internationally famous friends, I must warn my Crustettes that impostors are rife in this twitterlicious meeting place. Why, my dear friend Uncle Dick Madeley advised me that someone had dared pass herself off as his gorgeous and beloved, Judy … OUTRAGEOUS!

Anyhoo … I never thought I had ever seen anything of Coleen Rooney; it was not until Chu Me had said I had watched her on television recently. A blank expression drew across my face – and I had only just opened a fresh bottle! Then he refreshed my memory.

I had sat and watched a program called Coleen’s Real Women. I remembered I had become very irate at why an English title was being given to a foreign program; it was highly misleading!

I watched for at least five minutes and could not understand a word! What made it worse was there were no subtitles, just 5 long minutes of gutteral noises - I thought the poor young thing was suffering from Tuberculosis.

In the end I gave up and begged Chu Me to search the personnel records for Crusty Hall to see if anyone could speak Dutch and translate for me. This time a blank look fell on my faithful houseboy’s face, “But Mistress, she’s Liverpudlian.”

Goodness me!

A Question To Ponder.

Girls Aloud snapped while waiting in a

queue for the ladies.

While I was checking my emails today for the latest batch of Crustette agony letters, I noticed Windows Live Today asked the question, Can you believe Girls Aloud are releasing their 21st single?

As one who has always held an intense passion for talented musicians and their great music, I thought long and heard about this question and … quite frankly … no, dear … I can’t believe it!

Although Agadoo did reach number one, so perhaps there is an explanation for such nauseating longevity.

Robin Hood Returns?

Chu Me and I sat eagerly awaiting the return of Robin Hood this evening. A selection of nibbles was spread over the drawing room coffee table. I was accompanied by a beautifully prepared Martini while my faithful houseboy, Chu Me, was swallowing a Black Russian in the leather armchair in the corner.

Crusty was shocked, however, when the episode began. It has been some time since the series was on our screens and the time has certainly not proved kind to the lead, Jonas Armstrong. One remembers him pressing all the right buttons and making one swoon at his breathtaking masculinity in the first series but one feels hamburgers, beer and boxing have been the words de jour in his time off from filming.

His resemblance to a Liverpudlian Chav was uncanny and one expected a Burberry baseball cap to be donned at some point. Thankfully, this did not prove to be the case. Let us hope the makeup department at the glorious BBC can remedy the situation and return him to his former level of delectability.

Smooth Radio - Dame Crusty Thanks You!

Crusty must offer her heartiest thanks to the management team at Smooth Radio.

Crustettes will remember (and I trust are still supporting) Dame Crusty's attempts to have her gorgeous Mark makes-my-mouth-water Warr be given a suitable public position back in the land of television or radio: To cut a long story short, Mark was brutally made redundant by Tyne Tees Telelvision and has been replaced by an insipid, characterless Nana Mouskouri look-a-like with electricity-generating eyelashes and a vocal range only dogs would respond to.

Anyhoo .... the management team have clearly listened to the pleas of Dame Crusty and have recently provided my poppet some practice slots. I hadn't even realised as I had not received any updates from him on the Gussetphone.

It was not until one night, about a week ago, and Crusty Hall was all locked up and Chu Me had gone off to one of the servants quarters to do a spot of DIY for her. It was very late but apparently Chu Me said he'd discovered a crack that urgently needed filling. Honestly, Crustettes, I think that shows to you what a kind and caring person my faithful houseboy is ....he's always thinking of others... he is priceless.

Crusty retired to her quarters and got ready for bed. By the time I had finished my normal rituals of cleansing, moisturising and planting a kiss on the foreheads of my bedside guardians (a silver photo frame on either side of the bed containing pictures of my poppet, Mark, to the left and the George Clooney of regional news, Colin his-twinkle-makes-y'-tingle Briggs to the right) it was just after midnight.

I took hold of the remote for my Bang & Olufsen and turned on the radio to help me relax. I took a mouthful of Gin and lay back in my plumptious pillows. As I began to close my eyes and head into a dreamworld, I was stirred by a voice; a voice of supreme radiophonic quality. There was something familiar about it.

The sound waves of his voice vibrated through my bed clothes and oscillated over my nightwear, sinking through the fabric to cover my velvety, moisturised epidermis with a million explosions of tingleness. Then I heard the words, "...with me Mark Warr".

Well, all I could do was let out a piercing squeal of delight. It was a magical night! Six whole hours we spent together and by the time he'd shot off from the end of his slot, Crusty felt completely satisfied and limp with the excitement of it all.

Again, to the management team of Smooth Radio, Dame Crusty thanks you from the bottom of her heart. As for the other television and radio management teams, you clearly haven't been trying very hard, have you? One expects more from you, dears!

Easter Rehearsals Attract Police Attention

The village Easter preparations are continuing in earnest and last night was no exception.

A group of the lady folk of the village were present at the village hall for choir practice - I was in attendance purely as an observer.

Mrs Flecks -the vicar's wife - and her daughter Jenny were there too. One has mentioned before that the less said about the vicar's wife's singing the better and this is certainly the opinion held by all the villagers. She makes Diana Vickers-rhymes-with-knickers sound good.

Last night the choir had finished there rehearsals and the vicar suggested his wife give us all a burst of Phantom of the Opera and Memory from Cats - the latter quite ironic as she actually sounds like a cat when she sings. As she took to the stage I shouted, " The ladies and I will stand outside while you're singing, dear. We will be able to judge better the affects on the day. Come along, ladies!"

We shuffled outside with huge sighs of relief being expelled as we went.

Half way through her Phantom we could see a strange blue light getting stronger on the side of the village hall then, suddenly, there was a screeching of tyres. I turned and saw one of our local boys in blue getting out of his patrol car.

"Everything all right, Dame Crusty? We had a call from someone who heard screaming" He said.

"Yes, dear, thank you. Marjorie Flecks is singing some of her Easter numbers; we thought it prudent to stand outside in case anyone passed by and thought we were performing a human sacrifice inside. Thank you for your vigilance, though."

I have asked my faithful houseboy, Chu Me, to send an urgent message to his mother - who is residing at leisure in a Haitian prison - to try and find a spell that will give Mrs Flecks laryngitis for the Easter period. Let us keep our fingers crossed she is successful.

Easter Preparations - Full Steam Ahead

Well, Crusty has been a busy girl! There are preparations underway in the village, which Crusty Hall looks down on, for the annual Easter celebrations.

All of the residents are getting involved; there's to be a procession around the village green, which Dame Crusty will be heading in the open topped Bentley (so the locals can show their appreciation for their jobs on the estate), followed by floats representing the local traders and Wing Commander Bertie of Chipmunk Squadron is planned for a fly past at 3pm - this year, hopefully, without the crop spraying nozzles switched on; as a result of this oversight last year 10 people were rushed to hospital with breathing difficulties ... having said that, the roses came up lovely so every cloud ....

Mr. Peppercorn, the Butcher, has purchased a new Easter Bunny outfit from Ebay - actually, there were no Bunny costumes so he showed his usual resourcefulness by buying a Scooby Doo costume, attaching some new ears with an alice band and cutting off the tail and attaching his wife's muff to the rear end instead. I am quite sure once he has his little basket full of eggs, none of the villagers will notice the difference. The flippers he bought for feet were a concern but he has assured us with the hair he has stuck on from the hairdressers, the finished result is something to behold.

There is to be a small concert to be held at the end of the afternoon, on the village green and with the whole village in attendance. While Mr. Peppercorn jumps throughout the crowd bestowing dyed hard-boiled eggs to all and sundry, the performances will begin. The local children have been given a project to find and interpret a well known film which has eggs as part of it - to carry on the Easter theme - and after searching the video shop's archive are to give us an Easter rendition of Aliens.

The vicar will be giving his annual Easter address (he is quite a political animal and no doubt will again be publicly bashing the Bishop), the vicar's wife, Marjorie, will be performing a selection of Andrew Lloyd Webber classics (the less said about that the better), Chu Me will be using all the skills he learned in his own village in a land far, far away to sit on top of a Pole (he's been doing some electrical work at the Town Hall) and see if anyone can manage to pull him off for a pound and yours truly will be performing a 30 minute repertoire on the vicar's beautifully polished organ.

There are still some meetings to be held to incorporate more into the festivities but all certainly seems to be on track for a wonderful day. Crusty will, of course, keep her little Crustettes, updated.

I shall keep my little Crustettes informed of progress.

Peter Mandelson - Covered in Gunk!

Though Crusty has never had a liking of environmental protesters - emphasis, Crusty feels, should always be on mental - one would like to thank the lady who threw green custard over the Darth Vader of politics; Peter Mandelson.

It's not the first time someone has held something in their hand, shook it and splattered him with gunk and I dare say it won't be the last.

Cheryl - On Her Way Down

Crusty was enjoying her evening local news broadcast from the gorgeous Carol Malia when an olive from her early evening Martini stuck in the back of her throat; My faithful houseboy, Chu Me, had to race to my aid and perform the Heimlich Maneuver.

There, in front of me, Carol was being forced - for the purposes of charity of course - to speak to Cheryl y'-nailed-it Cole.

The Geordie stick insect has been participating in the celebrity climb of Kilimanjaro, while her husband, back home, consumes copious quantities of alcohol in her absence (although I would have expected him to be downing a skinful when Cheryl was at home). But the nauseating little couture calamity has been suffering from altitude sickness; this has included projectile vomiting.

Crusty can empathise with her; she suffers the same reaction when she's on the third floor of Crusty Hall and sees Cheryl's pictures splattered across the gossip magazines.

Anyhoo ... I have thought long and hard on the best course of action to help this "pop singer" reach base camp as quickly as possible to seek medical attention... Crusty would recommend finding a ledge and applying a gentle push between her shoulder blades.

Tyne Tees Border Presenter to Bring Power.

Crusty accidentally turned on her television this morning, while having morning tea and crumpet, to catch a brief sight of darling Mark Warr's replacement, Helen PeeOn (or some such fancy).

In a misguided attempt to distance herself from her uncanny resemblance to Nana Mouskouri, she has removed her spectacles. Not a good idea, dear, you now look like an Irish Wolfhound with conjunctivitis!

One presumes that contact lenses have been installed to compensate for the missing glassware as the fluttering of eyelashes in the brief minute I saw her was incredible .. and, in fairness, more than a little off putting.

This afternoon, I wrote to a major electricity company to ask them to attached wiring to both her eyelashes. I am confident that in just one morning bulletin she could produce a years worth of power to Newcastle city centre.

Consider it Dame Crusty's bit for global warming.

Spears Come Back - Arena or Function Room?

After all of her recent troubles, Brittle Spears will be pinning a lot of hope on her up and coming tour.

Brittle, was described as "vacuous" by Belfast's tallest mountain, Eamonn Holmes, after he had to endure an interview with her for This Morning. Seemingly she didn't have a clue where she was, what she was doing and looked like a frightened little rabbit - although in fairness I think Crusty would feel the same if she found herself sitting in front of him too.

Anyhoo... Brittle will be mortified to learn that tickets are not exactly selling like hot cakes, but more like a discounted bag of stale buns.

At this rate her come back will not be held in grand arenas but the function rooms of a handful of social clubs, with Bingo instead of a support act.

Health & Safety? No Thankyou, Dear!

It would appear, my little Crustettes, that Health and Safety representatives are not following their own strict guidelines!

I had a member of this ridiculous organisation around at Crusty Hall the other day. Chu Me was tending to some electrical business in one of the guestrooms and I was relaxing in the oak-panelled bar, just next to the ballroom and very near the main entrance.

Suddenly, one of knockers gave a hefty thud. I got up and sashayed to the front door to find a rather hideous little man, dressed in grey suit, shirt, tie and shoes standing before me.

“Hullo! I’m Grymm” He proclaimed merrily.

After I swallowed a mouthful of Gordons looking him up and down, I said, “Yes, dear, you are ... Very!”

He explained he was from Health and Safety and that he was here to conduct an inspection. I immediately suggested a walk around the grounds would be better than inviting the likes of him inside. Without any choice, he agreed.

A few seconds later, as we turned the corner onto the main terrace, I instantly grew tired of him and snapped my fingers twice. The hobbit turned and muttered, ”remembered something?”

“No, dear! I’m setting the dogs on you!”

Do you know, my darlings, for a short, ungainly creature he moved with remarkable swiftness but the one thing that proved what a fuss and nonsense this Health and Safety is, he didn’t even perform a risk assessment before he clambered frantically over the main gates. Outrageous!!