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Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Norman Clegg's Day (b 1921)

Hymn: Something sentimental set to the theme tune.

Archdruid: We gather to celebrate the Nativity of Peter Sallis - or, to 8 generations of Last of the Summer Wine fans, Cleggy.

Clegg: Has it ever occurred to you that if ears were square they'd cut the pillows?

Archdruid: But, this being Summer Wine country, we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses.

Wesley Pegden: 'Ow do, lads!

Compo: I don't know why I wash me feet. They only go black again.

Nora: Oooh! Put some clothes on!

Sid: I never even touched that bus conductress...

Foggy: When I was out East, there were insects as big as the natives. Only little fellows, they were.

Mr Wainwright: Miss Partridge! We may be dead but we are still modern people - liberated from bourgeois oppression and religion. Hang on.... How am I here then?

Ritually Pushing the Wicker Man Downhill in a Wheelbarrow

Cleggy: Let us make amends to the Old Yorkshire God, Earnshaw.

All may cross their fingers, turn around and spit.

Foggy: There's no such thing as the Old Yorkshire Gods.

All flee the collapsing Moot House.

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