STAN Lucas head-butted the printer of his new computer in sheer frustration. The landlord of the Waggon and Horses in York's Lawrence Street just couldn't understand why the thing wouldn't print A4 notices about what sporting events were to be televised by Sky TV during the week ahead - a sure-fire lure to attract drinkers into the watering-hole.

He couldn't work it out - he had managed to print a few sheets then the wretched computer just kept telling him something along the the lines of: "Can't print, won't print.

Stan, who is 58 on Monday, stormed downstairs and took liquid solace until his fury had abated.

When he went back up there was Boots dancing on the computer keyboard trying to catch the colourful screen-saver images that flashed across the screen.

Ginger-topped Stan, who bears an uncanny resemblance to his marmalade pussy, had found the answer to his printing problems.

"Boots had cocked the job right up, somehow he had managed to send 30 'print' messages to the computer's printer," he told me. "I had to call an expert in the delightful Debbie, daughter of Stan's partner Gerry - short for Geraldine," moaned Stan, who is as computer-savvy as myself.

"The only difference between me and Boots," says Stan, "is that I can fling the computer keyboard further than he can."

AS Saddam-out protesters were ousted from the Iraqi Embassy in Berlin this week by armed German police it occurred to me I could have warned them in advance not to have gone to all the bother. All they had to do was send him a large, poison-laced tin of Nestl made-in-York Quality Street.

The deadly dictator can't get enough of 'em them as MP George Galloway found out when he was granted an interview with the despot recently.

I can picture the scene now...

Gorgeous George: "The US is poised to rain down death and destruction on Baghdad in general and you in particular, Saddo. How can we avoid it?"

Saddo Hussein: "Would you like the chocolate with the hazel-nut in, Georgie baby, or the coffee-flavoured one?"

INTREPID diggers, delvers and unearthers from the York-based Council for British Archaeology have completed a seven-year nationwide survey of the various wartime structures built to repel Hitler's invading hordes, and the uses to which they have since been put.

They include firing ranges, radar stations, searchlight batteries and the ubiquitous pillboxes.

Some have become stores, bat sanctuaries, summerhouses, animal pens, cricket sight screens, golf course tees (on buried pillboxes), a pub cellar, a fish smokery, an ice-cream kiosk and the base for a bandstand.

Most enterprising of all were the people who transformed a Dorset pillbox into an observation post from which to spy on a nudist beach. It soon got the bullet, much to the peepers' disgust.

Roger Thomas, who looks after all things with military connections for English Heritage, says: "The survey created a lot of interest among local historical associations throughout the land,

"Many members volunteered to do research for free and greatly added to the body of knowledge which already existed. Many were sad when the seven-year survey was wound up."

English heritage is safe in the hands of the knowledgeable and chirpy Welshman from Pembrokeshire for many years to come.

WHAT does Blair mean in Yorkshire?

This is not a request for a comment on the political performance of our Prime Minister but a question on the definition of the aforementioned Yorkshire word.

In the early 19th century in the three Ridings it meant "to shout". This and many more Yorkshire words besides could be savoured in Blake Morrison's play The Cracked Pot, performed by 1812 Theatre Company at the Ryedale Festival.

The Helmsley company helpfully provided a glossary in the programme, and here is a selection of the best:

Bizzumhead: foolish person. Clunter: heavy fall.

Daddly: intoxicated.

Honey-fall: rare piece of luck.

Scutters: diarrhoea.

Trail-tripe: whore.

Buzznacking: gossip.

Timber-toed: wooden leg.

Nazzled: drunk.

Grenky: ugly.

Bellytimber: food.

Batter-fanged: to be beaten by a woman.

This set me to thinking about a competition.

Do you know any other examples of Yorkshire dialect? Please send your favourite Yorkshire expression, with definition, on a postcard to Dick Turpin, Yorkshire Dialect Competition, Evening Press, 76-86 Walmgate, York, YO1 9YN by next Friday.

I will select my favourite expression from the entries and the winner will receive a selection of five CDs.

Go on... give it some wellie.

York film listing for next week: City Screen, Big Wednesday (Saturday and Sunday only). Whatever next... Never On Sunday (Sunday only)?

u Formula for a perfect marriage:

3 It is important to find a woman that cooks and cleans

3 It is important to find a woman that makes good money

3 It is important to find a woman that likes to have sex

3 It is important that these three women never meet

A York woman, reporting her motor had been stolen, mentioned there was a car phone inside.

The razor-sharp rozzer who took details of the report called the phone and told the thief he had read an advert in a newspaper and wanted to buy the car.

They arranged to meet and the thief was nabbed.

A case of don't ring me...

Updated: 10:37 Saturday, August 24, 2002