An Old Head…….

Around ten years ago I was working in a call centre outside Manchester. Myself and some colleagues returned from lunch and were travelling by elevator. An older guy called Tom from Sales jumped in just as the doors were closing. He began making small talk with someone as he stood directly in front of me. I was transfixed, unable to break my stare from his face. Ghoulish pasty skin, cheeks hanging down like satin ballbags. His wiry grey hair like the back legs of a 19 year old disabled border terrier. His only chance of a suntan would be if the mauve age spots on his face were to morph and make one monster tumour of his weathered, near translucent head. I racked my brain of what he reminded me of. Then it came to me like a bolt from the blue. Nanna.

Since then it’s become one of my favourite hobbies. Spotting Nanna Heads. There are simple rules to the game. The head in question must belong to a male, but look like a nanna. Their’s no ideal age but they just must have that certain look about them. Namely, the pointing nose, the whispy, piss-thin hair and the quintessential hanging jowls. I’ve listed my top ten celebrities below in reverse order for your perusal.

10

Tony Hart

Nanna-Cancer

Bless his little Hart. Sadly no longer with us, Tony was a legend. But this doesn’t stop him looking in this picture like he’s just got through Chemo. His dark, vacant eyes look like he’s flooding his favourite piss-ridden fabric upright armchair as we speak.

9

David Cameron

“It’s alright Love. I’ve found me tele glasses” – Nanna Cunt

An up and coming Nanna Head. This one’s got potential. If he’s got half the flesh volume in those cheeks as we suspect, this kid could go a long way. But at the moment he’s way off the pace.

8

Sammy Lee

Nanna Hamster – scouse devastator

Looking like he’s just stepped off the boat back from the Island of Dr Moreau, this horrible little bastard looks like the hanging nanna we all know. You know, the 70 year old from Ashton Under Lyne who still wears trackies and shags the neighbours son. We do all know her, don’t we?........

7

Roy Hodgson

Orc Nanna

And while we’re in Liverpool, add this beauty to the list. His hairs losing weight quicker than Karen Carpenter. I bet when he relaxes those cheeks they swing down like two condoms filled with angel delight. You can see him gazing into nothing at anfield, half blind from the cataracts swimming deep inside his anemic blue eyes.

“It’s foggy again isn’t it?”

“Yes Nanna”

6

David Thelfall

Nanna Tramp

This dirty bastard always had a look to me like he’s been swimming in piss, even when he’s out of character. Imagine him pushing his wheeler trolley aimlessly round a shopper centre. It’s all in the greasy hair with this one. Which brings us nicely onto our next entry…….

5

David Spinx

BO Nanna – Dirty bastard

Lets be honest, this abhorrence should have never been forced down our throats during primetime TV. I don’t pay my licence to watch this bellend stroke his filthy fucking giant of a mutt whilst imparting numerous shit nuggets of wisdom he’d obtained from the Wildlife channel. He did, however, fit the Nanna Head mould nicely. He wears that crazy pensioner smile so well. I can see him now, lifting his skirt to all the boys in the care home, nursing that insane grin.

“Hilda, put it away!”

4

Brian Sewell

Classic Nanna - Re-nanna-saince

If Nanna Head spotting was Art, Sewell would be the mona lisa. His detail is so perfect, he’s everything we’re looking for. If there were a crufts for Nanna heads, this guy couldn’t fucking move for Rossettes. I feel the urge to make him puff his chest out and walk him round on show. I’m sure though, upon trotting with his spine up, he’d immediately shit himself. Then die.

3

Bill Roach

Old school Nanna

This guys been Nannarin since nought plonk. Don’t even fuck with him.

2

Derek Simpson

Nanna na na na – Unite, U-stink of shite more like *sniggers*

Straight out of the Les Dawson school of nannarism. Been on the scene a long time. The George Foreman of Nanna heads. Picture him if you will in a floral skirt and white cardy, with his hands crossed on his lap, taking a small pause from his knitting to watch the local news.

And in the top spot.....

David Dimbleby

King Nanna – Nannarus Maximus

Number one for a long time in my eyes. The showstopper. The Piece de resistance. He will take some beating. The man eats nothing but strong tea and soft mints. He’s hardcore. Like Pele, he will stand the test of time.

If you’ve got a Nanna head of your own, or know someone who’s old before their time send me their picture and I’ll go round dressed as a gas man, con my way into their house and kick their c*** in for their life savings.

Celebrity Big Boring......

Without even time for the turkey and mince pies to settle, 2010’s television offerings begin with the usual freak fest commonly known as celebrity big brother. The only mercy that we are given this year is that this will be its final outing. Seemingly, the programme schedulers at C4 have realised that watching 10 people trapped in a house for 6 weeks doing nothing more than arguing over who is the most famous has become as popular as a Muslim memorial march through Wootton Bassett. In fact, I think the British public would much rather see Amjum Chaudry and his brainwashed moronic cronies pelted with cabbages and bricks than watch Dane Bowers and Alex Reid sniff each others fingers whilst discussing which position in the chart they were in the thousand or so shags Katie Price has racked up (Although I’ve heard Bowers stands at 391, whereas Reid is 890, but Reid’s higher in the bum chart).

I must say at this point that I’ve never been a fan of the normal BB. I always found that the first series with Craig and Nasty Nick was great TV, but everything that followed meant the normal contestants all knew how the show worked and went in with an agenda. I think around the third series, I took the decision that I would rather do a handstand in a brown paper bag full of horse piss than watch another minute of desperate wannabees trying to grasp their fifteen minutes by getting fingered under a sheet or sitting on a beer bottle or whatever it is they were reduced to this week. However, these mindless cretins never swayed me from my love of watching the celebrity version. All those big ego’s in such a small space had made for some classic TV. The Vanessa Felt breakdown, George Galloways “cat” moment and Michael Barrymore’s desperate and unsuccessful attempt to win back our hearts all immediately spring to mind.

So after bemoaning channel 4 for dragging it out for another series, I grudgingly tuned in for the first and last ten minutes of this car crash TV extravaganza. Stephen Baldwin was first up, a born again Christian who came across creepier than Edwina Curry performing in a peep show. I was already circling my TV remote when they dragged out number two contenstant. Ex footballers wife and general unknown talentless slag, Nicola T. Davina asked her in front of the crowd what she was least looking forward to? “Urgh, other people’s skid marks in the toilet.” It was at this point I realised I would rather watch "Worlds wildest suicides" than endure another minute, although her outburst did prompt me to think of a rather fitting metaphor.

Picture if you will the stairs leading down the corridor to celebrity big brother as a giant toilet of a house in a prosperous area. Once gleaming white and pristine, the giant celebrity turds that once graced this humongus shitbox have left their marks over the years, smearing their ungracious scrapings down the stairwell as they go. But as time has passed, the area has declined and now the smackheads have moved in. Instead of delicate caviar coated shit pellets marking the porcelain walls, it’s now mars bars and netto baked bean filled dark brown monster logs cramming their way down the piss stained corridors. It’s a year too far for CBB I’m afraid. The area has gone downhill, the toilet is ruined. Time to knock down the house channel 4.