WASHED AND READY TO EAT

You couldn't hope for a better slice of British life. An extraordinary snapshot of Stevenage more than forty years ago.

Over 60 and feeling 'under the weather'? You should visit your pharmacist. As soon as possible. Eh? So that you can buy some paracetamol? Or actually regale the person behind the counter with the story of how you developed your cold? Is there any statistical evidence to suggest that someone aged 62 with a sniffle is any more at risk than someone who's 55? And why the hell would we want to clog up pharmacists' counters with walking wounded? The people who are really at risk are probably 15 or 20 years older and they might struggle to make it to the pharmacy if they were poorly. They'd be better advised to call a GP out or summon an ambulance if things got bad. In what way is a pharmacist really a substitute for a doctor? And why on earth would we assume that any mild illness in someone aged 60+ is a cause for immediate concern?

An interesting selection of vintage posters is currently on display at Richmond station in south-west London. Perhaps advertising is hard to come by, but whatever the reason, we're grateful for the snapshot of life in days of yore. Talk me through it: buttons to open and shut doors need a lot of explanation If only they'd introduce buttons on the doors. It would make them easier to close. The new Winnersh Triangle emerges in 1986. Countless trains have disappeared there since.

Ground floor, perfumery, stationery and leather goods, wigs and haberdashery, kitchenware and food... going up You know you've made it when you have a lift built into your semi-detached house. Mrs W wonders what would happen if you got stuck between floors. Doesn't bear thinking about really. I'm not convinced it's an elevator at all. I think it's a shower. And if you can still shower together in your twilight years, it's really quite touching. Obviously, once you reach a certain age, you don't take your clothes off.

Someone on Facebook was telling me the other day that it costs £1,000 a week to keep someone in prison in the UK. It struck me that this is a very similar price to the bills often levied by some of the smarter residential nursing homes. Come to think of it, you'd probably pay the same amount for a hotel too. A grand is the going rate, wherever you want to stay. Travelling salesman? Confused nonagenerian? Mass murderer? One large please.

Wandering around Clas Ohlson before Christmas (via the pre-ordained route beloved of Scandinavian stores), I was struck by the truly bizarre smorgasbord of stuff they sell. One minute, it's stationery and household electricals. The next, it's... err... lifejackets. Lifejackets? Not just the odd one either. A whole wall of them. Tumbleweed billowing past the shelves, as nearby shoppers head off to find a Bosch ALB 18 LI Leaf Blower. It's difficult to imagine quite why Clas Ohlson anticipates this level of demand. And given that no one would ever suspect that they actually sold lifejackets anyway, who could possibly be buying? Is there casual passing trade? "Did you get the lever-arch files, darling?" "No, but I tell you what. I found something else to stop you drowning in paperwork." Sink or swim: Swedish retailer Clas Ohlson tries to corner the market in lifejackets in suburban London

I glanced this morning at an ad on the London Underground promoting the 'award-winning' Christian Connection dating website. The headline makes an astonishing claim, which must surely be causing consternation at the Advertising Standards Authority: 'God knew you would read this'. Of course, we're aware that the Lord moves in mysterious ways. But the fact that this extends to precision targeting of commuters in ambient advertising campaigns still comes as something of a shock. Let's take the message at face value for a moment.  God clearly has you on his radar and knows that you're a good Christian, who is seeking a like-minded partner. He's decided, in His wisdom, to sponsor a particular dating site - perhaps because of its award-winning credentials. But there's a problem. You don't know the site exists. This leaves God with only one option: advertising. He can guide you to the posters by getting you to sit in particular carriages. But the poster...

I have to admit that a generation has passed since I watched Eastenders regularly, but news of the arrival of cockney poster boy Danny Dyer at the Queen Vic certainly warmed my cockles. If a quick skip through BBC iPlayer is any guide, the former movie and reality TV star looks the part. But has anyone stopped to consider the significance and symbolism of his rebirth on prime time TV at Christmas time? The writers’ intentions couldn’t be clearer. An unstable Messiah figure has now taken up residence at the packed inn. In the coming days, I imagine Pearly Kings will journey to pay homage, perhaps heading to Walford East tube from as far afield as, say, up west. According to The Daily Star , Dyer is determined to use as much bewildering cockney rhyming slang during filming as he can. This makes absolute sense, as he will no doubt see the local manor as den of iniquity that has abandoned its true cockney roots. By installing himself as the guv’nor of the local battle cruiser, he’s in...

The Queen apparently doesn't like policemen pilfering her nuts . In fact, the ageing monarch has taken to marking her bowls at Buckingham Palace to ensure that none of the Royal Brazils go missing. One does sympathise, Your Majesty. When one's worked hard for everything one has, it must be galling to see it snatched away from one. Especially in times of austerity. Why, only the other day, Princess Michael was telling us just how bad things have got. "I love easyJet," she said. "It’s the only direct route to Biarritz." She actually said it. Those very words. Every satirist and would-be parody merchant might as well back their bags now. Game OVER.

News that bus drivers are to be trained to recognise the signs of dementia is obviously welcome. I suggest they start at their own depot, as my experience of their colleagues in London is that they seem completely unaware of their surroundings. This can lead to bizarre and unpredictable manoeuvres, as well as angry outbursts towards customers.

The judge in the Grillo fraud case didn't take kindly to David Cameron's intervention the other day in The Spectator on behalf of Nigella Lawson. He told the jury that they should ignore everything the British Prime Minister said. Don't you think this would be sound advice for the rest of us too?

News that Amazon is considering using drones to deliver parcels within 30 minutes of an order being placed is certainly welcome. No more sitting around waiting for a drone that might fly past at some unspecified time between 8am and 2pm. Tracking your order becomes easier. Instead of having to log on to the website, you can just get a pair of binoculars out. I can see it causing issues in the tribal border areas of Afghanistan and Pakistan though. Over-eager Taliban fighters shooting down a drone, only to discover it contained their commander's latest aerobic workout DVD.

If aliens ever needed somewhere to land their craft in London, I wouldn't rule out Selhurst Park. Although the home of Crystal Palace FC seems an unlikely destination for any intelligent extraterrestrial life form, the little green men seem to take a keen interest in the fate of the struggling Barclays Premier League side. Well, that's if you believe Stephany Cohen at least. According to a report in the Metro , this keen Eagles fan (who claims to have been Joan of Arc in a previous life) is in regular contact with travellers from outer space. They have assured her that Palace will 'klingon' to top-flight status if Tony Pulis can focus on his defence, which the aliens believe - on rather limited evidence, it has to be said - to be his 'forte'. I think it's quite conceivable that if there's no sign of improvement in the New Year, the spacemen might start abducting players to their mother ship and giving them a bit of a rollicking. 'Mr Moxey, we a...

Having met the Fonz at Richmond Waterstones, I wandered down to a store called Whole Foods Market , which is almost beyond parody. Stretching over two large floors, it seems to position itself as a place where the affluent residents of the south-west London suburb might choose to do their weekly shop. Heinz baked beans and other fairly everyday essentials compete for space with £10 pots of 'Richmond Park Natural Honey' and £20 trays of Maine lobster. Had Henry Winkler been able to join me on my shopping expedition, he would have been pleased to see that the retailer is also quite big on Thanksgiving - presumably catering for the American diaspora that helps fill the seats of Richmond Theatre, where the former Happy Days star is appearing in Peter Pan . There was a Catherine Tate moment when I heard a young boy by the fish counter ask his dad whether it was possible to have a whole sea bass. I'd have told the cheeky young lad that it would be KFC if he didn't shut...

The Waterstones branch in the leafy London suburb of Richmond has probably played host to its fair share of famous authors. But surely none has caused quite the buzz created by the arrival of Henry Winkler.  The 68-year-old actor has traded LA in recent years for stints in British panto and in this star-studded sleb-selfie, he really is 'behind me'! Waiting for the arrival of the Fonz, and clutching one of his kids' books for my young nephew, I saw women actually brushing their hair and doing their make-up. The book store handed out chocolate brazil nuts to those  of us foolish enough to ship up an hour before and form an orderly queue down the street. What an occasion and what a genuinely nice guy.  Saturday, what a day: Washed and Ready to Eat's Phil Woodford meets up with Fonzie.

I do love the full-page ads from EW Technologies in the Metro . The company treats us to detailed testimonials from customers who have battled with limescale before installing the firm's Gold Series water softening systems. Peter and Chris Warner are all smiles. Before EWT came into their lives, appliances were constantly breaking down, while dry, cracked hands meant that bills for moisturiser were soaring. It's a heart-rending story that is no doubt played out across countless homes in the heavily calcified south of England. Now, after a visit from a polite, professional engineer, the shower door is clean and they're using less shampoo and gel when they pop inside for a wash. Interestingly, Mr Warner believes that shaving is easier too. 'I get a far closer shave,' he says. 'And when I use any soaps they seem to lather up a lot more.' It's hard to imagine how things could get any better, but thanks to the free G1 drinking filter supplied by ...

Stuck for an original gift this festive season? Look no further than the originally named Original Gift Company. I chanced upon one of their catalogues on a south London commuter train and wanted to give WARTE readers a sense of the sheer breadth of Yuletide surprises on offer. Unsure what to give your hubby or boyfriend? No need to throw in the towel. This all-in-one kilt set will keep him dry after he's been skinny-dipping in the local loch. What goes around comes around. So there's no question he deserves this motorised tie rack. You won't only have a red nose when you pass on this fabulous, Santa-inspired bottle holder. You'll have a red face too. Bandits at 2 o'clock high. But can we shoot our way out of the goldfish bowl? Get a grip with these inventive and practical... err... on second thoughts, just get a grip. He'll have a face like thunder when you present him with this piece of meteorological kitsch. Don't forget the decorations: c...

An extraordinary email arrives at Woodford Towers, offering a unique sponsorship opportunity. How would I like to become a patron of the 'world-renowned' Dublin University Metaphysical Society? It's an interesting offer, to be sure. For the modest investment of just £600 a year, my logo will be 'seen across Dublin' and I'll be able to tell my shareholders that I have a programme in corporate social responsibility. My largesse will help to fund the attendance of various speakers. People such as Professor Ray Monk, whose forthcoming topic is The Synthetic A Priori and the Analytic A Posteriori: Wittgenstein on Phenomenology . Certainly one to mark in the diary. There's only one thing that I find puzzling. Why me? And, come to think of it, why am I here? And does this blog actually exist?

The bizarre campaign for the mouthwash Corsodyl ('for people who spit blood when they brush their teeth') has taken an even weirder turn.  The latest posters show a lady applying make-up to her eyes and seeing a streak of blood run down her cheek. 'You wouldn't ignore this' reads the copy, implying that we should treat bleeding gums with the same seriousness as bleeding eye sockets. There are few places left for this outlandish train of thought to go. Someone with blood pouring out of their ears? Or maybe struggling with multiple gunshot wounds? Can this stuff really be researching well? Only if the focus groups are stuffed with bleeding hypochondriacs.

What should arrive in the mail the other day but a pen inscribed with the name of my company? Apparently I can get fifty of them knocked up for £49.50 and will then receive another fifty FREE! If my maths is correct, that's almost as good as getting 100 of them for £49.50. The letter that accompanies the sample is truly lol-inducing. I am informed in the copy that 'this is no ordinary writing instrument'. In fact, 'the gleaming lacquer finish and polished chrome trim make this a pen customers and prospects will treasure and use every day'. I'm asked to picture just how impressed folks are going to be when I present them with this 'extraordinary ad gift'. They'll not only remember my thoughtfulness and generosity, but 'share their sentiments' with friends who've noticed and admired my 'exceptional executive' present. See what you make of it below. If demand is strong among fans of WARTE, you might just find a little something extra...