The John Dredge Nothing To Do With Anything Show

With the light fading, this long-awaited series comes to its long-awaited end. We hope it has brought some fun and frivolity to your otherwise dank existence but, if it hasn't, may we suggest you complain to the BBC, as they've much more time on their hands than we have right now. While you dip your nib in green ink, why not listen with your lugholes as amateur hotel critic Peter P

Put on your boogie shoes and listen to this week's collection of lunatic skits and whatnot, or vice versa. Trilby hats are well to the fore, along with a giant aubergine and a cucumber sandwich or two, but all is not as it seems - or is it? Or, indeed, isn't it? Become a hit at parties simply by tuning in, identify the cast members and what sordid secrets the producers are holding

Believe it or not, someone who purports to be 80s pop star Nik Kershaw makes a guest appearance in this week's fun-filled show, in which a jingle is played backwards. But what does he - or anyone else, for that matter - know about crockery belonging to Nobel prize winners? And can The Actor Greg Haiste complete his own joke before it's too late? Listen in wonder, bemusement and mor

Why not walk around your garden while listening to this week's episode, part of which comes to you from a cupboard on the back lot at Universal Studios? If you don't have a garden of your own, why not walk around someone else's garden, such as the President of the United States. His security detail will be very happy to see you. Whilst you're perambulating, listen to this week's sh

In this week's jam-packed episode, which was constructed with the aid of a complex arrangement of ropes and pulleys, we take a sideways look at the week's biscuits. A Jammie Dodger from Tinseltown tells some tall tales and, due to circumstances beyond our Fig Roll, more of your letters and emails are given an airing in Dear Dredge, although sometimes we wonder why we bother. So don

Well, if it isn't the long-awaited return of our long-awaited show. If it isn't, we don't know what it is. If you happen to know, write to the usual address and you could win a clock radio. That's right, we've somehow managed to re-engage our cast of several to bring you a fresh set of Smurftastic sketches and sounds from the very epicentre of something, including a highly unentert

It's the last episode of this hugely inflatable series, which can only mean one thing: yes, it's the last episode of the series. Or is it? Yes, it is. And we end it all in style with a whole host of famous guests flown in from all over Melton Mowbray. But where are Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Grumpy, Grover and Muriel? Who is the mysterious 'Frank Muir?' And why is Planet Skaro closed f

Well done for making it to Episode Five, where we count our chickens both before and after the return of agricultural icon Farmer Collins, just for good measure. Ralph Ploojagig doesn't make an appearance this week - or any other week, for that matter - but perhaps Sunday Brunch will take him under their wing and give him some hot broth or both. Also, part of this week's programme

This week John looks at the rising problem of cellophane. He also meets a man in the street who takes a dim view of electricity, along with a porcupine called Ronald who emits squeaking noises (the two may be related). Plus catch up with the show's free-falling producer Richard Cray as he spends a welcome break in hospital. Why not send him hard-boiled eggs or nuts, or some such? (

Today's low, low budget episode is brought to you by Kludge, which now comes in a handy three-ounce tin. On the 'show', for want of a more apposite description, you'll hear details of how to join our fan club, which proudly boasts over three members, many of them still alive. We welcome David Lynch as himself, sadly, and there is entertainment of an unusual nature when Harold the M