“Ask Derek !” – a NEW 24 hour service !

Derek Templeton (that’s me) is going plural !

Having been inundated with requests for membership of the online dating consultancy “Templeton’s Temptations” I have realised that I have sold myself considerably short. I’ve been far too limited with my reach to help the population of Britain, France and in fact the world. For that reason I have decided to launch “Ask Derek!”

I have such a diverse span of interests and knowledge. Recently I have been asked fashion advice from a lady living in France; a young student also asked my advice for an essay on the theatre and of course I am continually overwhelmed with questions about relationships.

“Ask Derek !” is a new 24 hour service* where people are free to ask me any question and I will do my best to provide an answer. It could be advice about a relationship, or a fashion style. Perhaps a meal and wine combination or a question about which animals deserve to be saved first in priority order. The choice is yours. (It’s a bit like Ask Jeeves, but better and without adverts).

Initially “Ask Derek !” will be a free service with no subscription charge and adds to a growing list of services offered from the expanding Derek Templeton Corporation. “Ask Derek !” is available through Facebook and also Twitter @derektempleton1

  • Hardware Stores – Templeton’s Hardware, Sprodlington
  • Care in the Community – currently mentoring PC Tucknott, Sprodlington’s Special Counstable.
  • Creative inspiration – source of shop names in “The Stillness of Time Travel” by AJ Maddicott
  • Relationship Counselling – Templeton’s Temptations
  • 24 hour* advice service – The NEW “Ask Derek !” service.

Derek Templeton

*there are no guarantees that I will be answering questions 24 hours a day. Whilst they can be asked 24 hours a day – I will answer them when I get around to it.

 

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He’s done it now ! He’s really done it now !

Well, Colin’s gone and done it now!  It’s one thing to rip your shirt off and shout “You’re all cheats!” after losing a game of dominoes, but no one could have guessed where next  Colin was going to  show his charm.

The evening started as a fairly quiet affair. Three of us; Colin, Steve Bishop and me, chatted our way through a few pints of Bishop’s Pizzle in The Black Bull. Colin seemed on fine form. Then

“Right,” he shouted. “Three more of these and then we’re off for chips.”

“Three !” I spluttered. “I can’t manage three Colin, let alone one. I’m a little out of practise.”

“Poof !” Colin barked. “You’re as bad as Trevor. You’ll be on Sherry soon as well.”

“I think that’s a bit harsh Colin. We’ve had four pints already and I’ve told you I’m trying to save some money to impress a lady.”

“You’ll impress nowt in Yorkshire lad,” he said. “You’ve gone soft !  I’ll order – you start drinking and I’ll finish them.”

I looked up.  Steve had gone.

“Bastard!”  I thought.  I should have seen it coming and joined him, but like a fool I stayed.  It was cabaret time.

“I’m not going to manage any more than two then.”  I protested.

“I’ll get the chips delivered.” said Colin.  “We can eat them here.”

“Colin, for starters no one from the chippy is going to deliver chips to us here in the pub, and even if they did, there’s no way the pub would want us to eat them here !”

He slammed down the first of the six pints he had ordered and started the second.

“I’ll phone.” he said.

Colin then phoned Sheila Foggerty at Foggy’s Chippy.

“Chips please Sheila !” shouted Colin.  “We’re wait for then here in The Bull.

I’m not sure he needed the phone as they could probably hear him the three doors down, but he repeated himself anyway, and a little louder.

“We’re busy Colin.”  I could hear Sheila.  “It’s 10 o’clock and we’re chocca.”

Colin sank the contents of the next pint.

“I’ll clear the shop then !”he  howled.  “How’s that?”

There was no reply.  Colin threw the phone down on the table and lifted the next pint.  He finished it in one and I just knew what was coming next.

He stood up on the bar stool and took of his shirt. He then removed his shoes and his trousers.

“Right.” he said. “Chips!”

And with that he left. There was no way I was going to want to see what happened next.  I put my glass down and went quietly out through the pub back door; through the beer garden and home.

When “No” means “No” say the good folk of Sprodlington

Well God Bless the lovely folk of Sprodlington for rallying around and getting Templetons Hardware open again for business.

The little town was stunned by the shameful trashing of our family shop, just because I rebuffed the unwanted attention of an overly keen lady.

Sprodlington wanted to send a message – just to make it very very clear.

Short Changed

Now I don’t even like Dave Threadmere – I never have. Ever since the rumours started about him and the dogging car park towards the Wolds. But in truth I have always been prepared to take his money. Today I took too much.

A GearWrench 7/16 inch and 1/2 inch quad box wrench is not your run of the mill tool, and as such he would not have known the ticket price.

As it stands I have an extra £7 of his rattling in my pocket and not a lot of conscience. Silly Bugger.

A right ol’ Birthday bash

I should start by thanking all my close friends for their warmest best wishes this week for my birthday, but it seems that not everyone in Sprodlington has Derek Templeton at the top of their list !

Earlier in the week I had an egg posted through the letterbox of Templeton’s Hardware which Wendy nearly slpped on when she opened the shop. Now, I know I said I had sacked her but the late night domino session at The Cross Keys the night before had got a little out of hand and I needed a bit of time in the morning to clear my head. Wendy was sent to open up.

Later that day a couple of urchins popped in to ask if we sold eggs and I was quick to give one a cuff round the ear, like my Dad (God rest his soul) did to me. But the lad ran home and told his father.

I spent the next morning hiding from Malcolm Chadwell, who promised to give to me what I had given his son. Initially he left the shop, only to surprise me later when the nearest thing I could find to protect myself was a fly swot. Too little too late. As my friend Helen says – if only it was electric!

So, only Wendy and a beef stew returned a little happiness to my Birthday this week. But I will get my revenge of Malcolm Sodding Chadwell.

 

Meet Crystal le Menthe

Friend and Fortune Teller to the Stars

A year ago to the day you will remember that Trevor Shoreditch found a new direction in life and ran to Brighton to find the new person inside. For a while he became Wendy, and seemed to sever all ties with yours truly and start a new life.

Well I am delighted to say that Trevor (Wendy) is back in East Yorkshire and is excelling as self-proclaimed “Friend and Fortune teller to the stars” Crystal le Menthe. She tells me she has a new website on its way and, following a year in training, has already given predictions to Celebrities including

  1. Katie Price
  2. Davina McCall
  3. Rio Ferdinand
  4. Stephen Fry
  5. Katie Perry
  6. Lady Gaga
  7. Paris Hilton

Well, I never predicted that outcome, but I wish Crystal le Menthe all the best and watch with interest.

Beyond comprehension


Today I wandered alone again down to The Sandwich Shop (I think Colin must be taking some early summer holidays) Inside the shop I joined the queue behind Dave Powell who runs Powell’s School of Motoring. (How long did it take him to come up with that name ??)
I thought it would be hot and uncomfortable to be a Driving Instructor in this hot weather, but Dave said it was “aesthetically pleasing.” I’m not sure what he meant.
Anyway, inside The Sandwich Shop, young Stuart was serving and Alan was doing his best to move his Quiche along.
“Can I get you a piece of Quiche?” he asked the lady at the front of the queue. “Its lovely; full of Welsh Cheese and a little Italian Herbs.” And then he added “I’ve not met any Welsh Italians.”
“I have!” piped Stuart, “But I can’t understand them.”
“Now hold on” continued Alan, “There was one – I remember. In Fireman Sam. There was definitely an Italian Welsh Lady.”
He paused. “Bella Lissimo,” he exclaimed.”No,that wasn’t it. Oh dear.”
By now the queue was getting longer.
“Bella lasagna” shouted another lady from sixth place in the line.
“Oh yes”, we all said. “That’s the one.”
And then we all went quiet as if we had remembered something really important.