Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
One of the largest challenges I face while quilling these daily journals is crafting gags for the more whimsical lexicological offerings. Predominantly written bereft of a sounding bound, I'm writing gags which've not been witnessed, approved or dismissed prior to, via writesaidfred.org, launching them unceremoniously onto the worldwide web. Without prior critical feedback seeds of... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, my East Ardsley abode (well my mum's to be more accurate) saw the return of Mrs S senior from her week long holiday in Bridlington. Consequently, I've now returned to a life incorporating the old lady's repeatedly asked enquiries, along with the home's TV 'graced' with fueilletons. Soap operas which my sister Helen dubs as... Continue Reading →
Through latter day smoke signals which go under the guise of social media, I learned yesterday that ITV's cop drama Vera was being filmed at the bottom of the Gateshead street where, in the 1970's/80's, I spent my fledgling years. This Low Fell cul-de-sac with the Chowdene estate in the southern suburbs of Gateshead, a... Continue Reading →
With autumnal temperatures starting to drop in West Yorkshire, it appears the season has shaken off it's apparent indifference to conclude 2018's warm spell. The death knell is ringing for deciduous flora and fauna that over the last eight months have graced the front and back gardens of casa Strachan. Soon it'll be time for... Continue Reading →
Unless they introduce a 'Best Performance Stood In A Green T-Shirt With A Collection Bucket in M&S' category, it's an event that's unlikely to secure me a BAFTA nomination. Nevertheless, I thought I'd make you, my discerning reader, aware that brief clips of an interview I did with a 'Made in Leeds' TV reporter are... Continue Reading →
I'm writing this piece wearing a pair of earphones in what's turned into a futile attempt to negate the sound from a daytime TV show my wife is currently viewing. Although the gogglebox's volume is diminished slightly by the over the head speakers, I'm still able to hear Charlie Dimmock and the Rich brothers yapping... Continue Reading →
As I seek inspiration for today's topic, in the lounge my missus is glued to the broadcast of ITV's daytime show Lorraine on our gogglebox. While Dundee's finest Lorraine Kelly is on her summer sabbatical, the presenting of showbiz gossip, fashion and practical recipes to con your kids to eat their greens is the capable... Continue Reading →
Tuesday 3rd April - Ordinarily I'm loathed to proffer judgemental comment on the sartorial elegance of anyone. After all, I'm hardly the dedicated follower of fashion written about by Kinks frontman Ray Davies in 1966. A fact I can relay with indisputable surety with the knowledge I was only three years old when the song... Continue Reading →
To distract me from gawping at the hypnotic sight of settling snow flurries outside, I've been watching a few minutes of a dog psychic on breakfast TV. As a sceptic of human beings being able to telepathically connect with canines, apart from Bob Carolgees & Spit the Dog, I commenced the viewing with an unhealthy... Continue Reading →