Who DO They Think They're Kidding?

'I'm Doing The Right Thing', Says Christopher Ian's son

 In an exclusive interview with THE PUN, this week, Christopher Ian's son, owner of a Ripon fightclub nightclub, tells how he is helping to ensure that Anti Social Behaviour (ASB) could never happen at the renowned club.

I arrive in the early afternoon and I'm greeted by the Tall, sophisticated, terribly good looking and not in the least bit seedy figure of Christopher Ian's son, He is wearing a bespoke sweatshirt, trendy wrangler jeans & leather style shoes. He shows me round the club: "Of course we're very safety conscious here," he says, waving a long, finely manicured finger at the non slip carpet "Oh yes - the safety of my little soldiers is parachute." Beaming young staff are busy polishing glasses, dusting already spotless shelves & preparing for an evening of lighthearted fun. Christopher Ian's son beams back at them in a paternal way, "They all think I'm terribly good looking you know." But he says it in the most natural way, without a hint of conceit.

"What time does the club open," I ask.

"Oh, well if I can have two bites at the cherries I do: I have a feel for young people, so we like to greet the very young girls,  & boys of course, at about 6pm and I like to be hands on to make sure they have as lovely a time as possible, and then the bigger girls, and boys of course, arrive a little later. You see I wouldn't bother with this night club lark only the youngsters would have nowhere to go at night in their short skirts and lipstick and.......Anyway, I like to give them somewhere safe to "Chill" (He waves his fingers in the air) and I like to charge them very little money for their drinks, because I'm terribly kind.....and good looking."

He shows me the toilets which have an indefinable aroma of nostalgia that takes me back to my school days; they are, of course immaculate - the floor still very wet; no doubt from the mop bucket......."You can eat your dinner off the floor in here if you'd like?" says Christopher Ian's son, "Err, no thanks, I've already eaten".

"Do you know," he says, "I don't think anyone's wee'd in here for years - they don't like to spoil it, the little angels, they all do it outside."

On the subject of the young: does he consider them to be disenfranchised?

"Sometimes it may happen outside the club," he says, "the local paper said a girl was being disenchanfrised behind a local restaurant," "but certainly never inside, we're very strict on that sort of thing."

I ask him about the new signage he's put up - what do they say?

"Well, they've got writing on them" he tells me "Writing and some ticks: it'll mean they don't go outside and fight and wee and be poorly all over the place see?"

Outside the club, Christopher Ian's son has erected some railings which he tells me are for leaning on and things like that; he is, he tells me, 'in loco parentheses' whilst the club is open, but he has some stern words for the youngster's parents: "They're feeding them badly," he says, "forcing them to eat vegetables and things like that; well it makes 'em sick. We try and give them plenty of liquids to settle their tummy's but it's the same every weekend - carrots everywhere. Of course, they don't do it in the club, bless 'em; they do it outside, but that's not the point is it? Parents should take responsibility........I'm doing the right thing."

Harrogate Tops Drink Driving List

Yes it's true: in an effort to escape the unmitigated tedium of middle class, middle of the road life in Harrogate, drivers are getting shit-faced on a nice little Riesling from the Alsace they found at Weeton's, Jumping into their cars and heading - well - anywhere that doesn't have a Betty's.
Of course Harrogate plod are wise to it and are rounding them up and chucking them in clink as fast as they can:
"They're like lemmings sir," said Sgt Smallboner "we can't keep up with 'em sir."
The miscreants are being given community service which consists of taking up seats in Betty's, drinking  earl grey tea and eating scones and jam until they have returned to average.

Here's one young man just before his arrest:

Barking

Ripon Mare and well known crooner Andrew (Andy) Williams let his dog Judy - Chairdog of Greater Ripon Impotent Persons Executive (GRIPE), off her lead again at a meeting in the town hall last week. After twenty minutes scampering around, pissing on the carpet and trying to hump an ex Mare's leg, she started barking uncontrollably:

"I believe every shop is good for Ripon," she yapped.

"Sit Judy," squeaked (Andy), patting her on the head.

"Costa opens on a Sunday and provides jobs for local people," Yipped the exited Judy, piddling on the carpet again.

"Good doggy," crooned the Mare, edging away.

"The burning issue at the moment is the number of empty shops and no amount of wishing will provide a Marks & Spencer or a Pizza Express in Ripon. That's not the way the world works," Growled Judy, frothing at the mouth.

"Nice doggy," quavered (Andy) adding to the dampness of the carpet, "Nice little doggy."

Now you might think that Mare (Andy) would have taken control of her at this point and snapped on the muzzle, but why have a dog and bark yourself, particularly when the dog is of what the plod are pleased to call the 'pit bull type'? Also, as is often the case with this particular breed, there's precious little difference between the intelligence of the dog and that of its owner. So, Judy yapped on and on, pissing off not only those present, but the whole of Ripon.

In the event, the sorry evening was brought to a close when Judy took a substantial chunk out of the seat of (Andy's) trousers and HBC dog warden had to be called to take her, snarling and drooling, away.