"WELL, THE autumn turns to winter, shorts become Long Johns, healthy tans become blotchy faces and the telly gets all shite. Time to turn to your favourite Keynsham humour-thon for instant and gratifying relief from the wrong-doings of Jack Frost and his bunch of weather cronies. So, enter weary traveller - there's mulled cider on the stove and a chair on the fire..."
What a month it's been in the world of
Could 'Dis Be Cane Shum. We've had the 'Victorian' Evening for starters, and, more importantly, we've got our own stalker in the form of Barry 'Shoestring' Jones, who was sent by that unruly mob at
That Be Bristle, via their misguided
report which made us out to be Town Council workers supposedly trying to win some cred. Heh heh heh! Needless to say, we dispatched this fourth-rate P.I. with a bruised eye and a fly in the ear. All in a week's work eh?!
So all that's left to do is wish you all a red-nosed Christmas and a cider-enhanced New Year. Thanks for your readership in 2003, we look forward to squeezing your chuckle glands in 2004. Oh, and if you still think that we don't like Keynsham, please click
here for correction.
Could 'Dis Be Cane Shum 
