Uncle Mort

If that photo has got any sense of decency it would be too ashamed to show itself.

How can we sleep safely in us beds, how can we bring up children in peace and security when we know that somewhere in darkest Yorkshire there's a mother saying to her son "Keep up your elocution lessons lad and you too could be Eddie Waring" #YorkshireDay

Congratulations to Shon Dale-Jones, Huw Brentnall, @john_r_gordon and @lindsaysharman who have all been shortlisted for this year's Tinniswood Award (Dad's Award!) Hope to see you all at the BBC Audio Drama Awards later this month. @TheWritersGuild @Soc_of_Authors @BBCRadio4

Good luck to all those shortlisted for this year's BBC Audio Drama Awards. Still waiting for the shortlist for the Tinniswood Award to be announced - looking forward to listening to some quality plays! @TheWritersGuild @Soc_of_Authors @BBCRadio4 bbc.co.uk/programmes/art…

So so sad. RIP Anita Carey, the glorious, snobby, ambitious, Pat in I Didn't Know You Cared, one of my favourite, and most underrated, 70s TV comedies. Created by the genius Peter Tinniswood. She was brilliant, every working class lad's dream, and nightmare. "Carter, darling..."

Anita Carey (16 April 1948 – 19 July 2023) R.I.P

Bowls? Champion!

Breathe deeply. The smells of a perfect summer's day. Stale socks, damp cricket pads, and the slow heady scents of a leaking gasworks.

My favourite Ashes photo - dad talking to England players in the dressing room in Oz...not sure of the venue or year! #Ashes23

Good God look at him. If they were still making gargoyles for churches he'd make a fortune sitting as a model.

Right, you lot. Bugger off. I'm going to get some shut-eye.

@PaddyWV Champion!

@TheUncleMort Hey up Mort! I hope you've wiped your nose and washed your singlet. They've got Chorley cakes on offer at the Dinky bakery!

When the heavens open and it starts raining cats and dogs, think of me wolfing down Spam fritters and mushy peas in heavenly canteen.

I'd be right up the creek if I didn't have me All-Bran every morning.

Life for folks like us is a never ending sequence of bad luck. Starting from the day you're born on a Coronation tea towel on back kitchen table to the day you die in hospital in egg stained pyjamas with a retired fruitier and greengrocer from Glossop in the bed next door.