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Stuart Dickerson
Chief Expat and Chocolatier
Birth Name Stuart Thomas Odysseus Dickerson
Born 25 June 1982
Herefordshire, England
Occupation Chocolatier
Current Location In a corner of a sleepy pub shaking his head, arms folded, planning his journey home
Favourite Colour Blue (Fact)
Team Unknown
Favourite Recording Artist Céline Dion
Role Model Céline Dion
Hair Colour Strawberry Blond (Factually incorrect - citation needed)

Dickin dickout - do up your flies!

Stuart Thomas Dickerson, born 04 August 1982 (factually incorrect, citation needed) Hereford, Herefordshire, is a New Zealand based Chocolatier who has been an influential part of the South Island’s Confectionery Renaissance. He is best known for his abstract, minimal chocolate works under the alias Dicko, a pseudonym he still uses today.

Prior to emigrating to New Zeland, Dickerson perfected his confectionery talent under the stewardship of Sir Digby Chicken Cesar, imposter and custodian of The Cesar Chocolate Empire, Bournville, Birmingham (previously known as Cadbury). It is here that he learnt all the tricks of the trade, soon becoming Europe's number one Chomp and Curly Wurly maker.

Food & Drink

Home Brew

After moving to Leeds to study in the University of Life, Stuart quickly combined two passions: Saving Money and Drinking. He started making home brew. Combined with his ever increasing knowledge of the food science's, he gradually started to become a master in the dark arts. It has been reported that his first batch of home brew had an alcohol so high it put actual hairs on your chest and dissolved the lining of your stomach. According to reports, two pints "got you going" three pints "got you battered" and four pints "got you a 4 night stay in the hospital". Stuarts official brewing recipes and techniques have always been kept secret and close to his heart, although it was once reported that lumps of luncheon meat were found at the bottom of his 2 litre coke bottle but official reports could neither confirm or deny the allegations. In 2004 researches at Leeds University tested a 100 ml sample of Stuarts home brew. It was reported that the 4 main ingredients found in the brew were the same 4 ingredients that make Rohypnol so potent. Prior to 2004, it was believed that Stuart would use the brew when dating ladies, but all known girlfriends at the time have refused to comment thus far.


Stuart Dickerson the world’s most stubborn individual when it comes to the consummation of the god’s drink made of hops and water. The man will not deviate and he will not betray his firm principles: he drinks ale, he will not touch lager (1998-2008). In 2009 in a dramatic u-turn, and after ten years of abusing everyone around him for their love of lager and after a decade of sitting high on his pedestal supping on his ale and nothing else, Stuart decided that he now loves lager.

The previous ten years have been conveniently forgotten. His friends still await an official apology!


1999-2010: Kitkat Award for daintiest 4 fingers in the business.

2008: Voted World’s biggest advocate of real Ales. Guest Lecturer at the great British Beer Festival, 2007 wrote the foreword for the Food & Drink Bestseller “Why Bitter is Best”

2009: Voted world’s biggest turn-coat.

Music Career

The 6th Spice Girl

The face.jpg

Christmas 1992. Stuart ‘Bonzo’ Dickerson was given his first and only drum kit. It still remains to this day his pride and joy and can be found set up at his parent’s house in Fownhope. Yet the tightly taut skins remain pristine. Unbeknown to the blossoming Keith Moon, the ‘Friends of Fownhope Residents Association’ complained about the potential for Stuart and his sticks to make too much noise. Unfortunately two of its members spotted the drum kits delivery from Argos. He was therefore subjected to having it fill his entire bedroom for the next 10 years and being only allowed to play it with mats and cushions covering to prevent the sound. After several auditions to bands such as Pregnant Goat (featuring Carl Hedley) not coming to fruition, Stuart gave up on drumming and moved over to singing. Not too dissimilar to close friend Daffyd Growl lead singer of tribute band Poo Fighters.

During his days in secondary education at The Bishops of Hereford Bluecoat School, a shy but emotionally open Stuart enjoyed a plethora of musical influences mainly instilled from his favourite teacher and role model Mr. James with whom he spent much of his spare time. So much so that during a holiday in 2000 to Magaluf, Stuart paid homage to his hero by performing Celine Dion’s, ‘My Heart Will Go On’ from the motion picture Titanic on Karaoke to a packed out bar. At the end of the performance Stuart could be heard muttering “I’m king of the world” the unforgettable lines from that heart wrenching classic. Mystery remains as to how he put his name down to sing seeing as though CCTV revealed that he didn’t move from his seat (or rather standing position by the door) all evening.

Bootleg tapes of him performing Oasis’s ‘Magic Pie’ can still be found on Ebay going for 0.22p with free postage and packaging. In fact the original recording was recently sold at auction at Sothebys for £1.57 brought over the phone by a music collector from New Zealand.

The Comeback?

In 2010 a double act calling themselves 'Stuey n Chair' auditioned for New Zealand’s version of The X - Factor singing 'I Got You Babe'. Although appreciated by audience for their comedic charm judges; Jonah Lomu and Zane Lowe failed to put them through to the next round. Was this Dickerson?

Discoverer of Ryan Adams

Some might say light years ahead of his time when it comes to the 'shouting' of Ryan Adams. Stuart took a lot of abuse from his friends when trying to introduce Ryan Adams music into their lives (not without justification, this was still the same man who to this day, maintains Meatloaf is a credible artist). To Stuarts credit, he took the verbal rants with a pinch of salt and stayed true to his spreading of the word of Ryan Adams. And praise be Ryan. A wonderful artist that has played a massive part in one of his close friends lives.

Here's to Mr Dicko.

Sporting Achievements

Dicko vs Woody

The Longest Wrestle in Beechwood View history

On a dark and gloomy Yorkshire evening prior to a quiet drinks gathering in Burley, Macho Man Randy Dicko persisted in challenging Woody the Barber Beefcake to a wrestle. The pair of warriors engaged in battle on our expensive settee and fought until the last man was standing. Dicko was well on top for long periods of this epic bout and will be long remembered for his unique move of using his back to slam Woody against the wall and then "bottom-bouncing" up and down on him in a fashion non too disimilar to a Super Mario game. Woody did not take this humiliation lightly and felt that in order to gain the upper hand would require less clothing to reduce his friction in the grapple. He subsequently removed his t-shirt, to give him the Brad Pitt pikie-look from Snatch, and was even heard snarling the words "I'll fight ye' for ye' shoes!!"

Woody was suddenly a man possessed and really went to town on the Stumeister. Punches, kicks, headlocks, supplexes, belly to bellies, top turn buckle elbows, chairs. He literally threw everything at him except the kitchen sink and his beloved plant pots. It was a dramatic turn of fortunes. Dicko remained stubborn and determined to hang in there without really threatening before Woody pulled out what now turns out to be the longest move in Boy's wrestling history - THE SLEEPER! The sleeper hold lasted approximately 20 mins with Woody on top with his arm locked tightly around Dicko's throat. There was silence in the room at this crucial point of the fight. Woody gripped tighter as Dicko gasped for breath. There was no way that our hero was going to give up easily and he refused to submit. Absolutely refused! The gargling sounds that could be heard were reminiscent of water being drained from a rusty bathtub. I can still hear them in the dead of night if I cast my mind back. His arm was lifted once to see if he could hold it up in the style of Hulk Hogan.

Could he hold it up? It dropped. A second time. Dropped. This was it....a third time....come on Hulk!!!!! DROPPED!! And the brave battle was lost!

This will go down in history as a display of true grit and determination from the Dicko. He drew upon huge stores of inner strength and stubborness to refuse to give in even when he could not breathe. He was being publicly strangled and deprived of oxygen, but who needs oxygen? Oxygen is for wimps! What a philosophy! What a battle! What a man! The definition of a HERO!!


Greg v Dicko primary school rounders

Arguably the first of the boy’s rivalries to ever be forged was on a mild Spring afternoon in 1991. A young whipper snapper lead his team of Lugwardine Primary away to the deep incestuous forest of Fownhope - Gregg ‘ The Left Hander’ Burrough, had a fierce reputation for delivering knock out switch hitting blows and was captain of the Lugwardine Rounders team. This team consisted of ‘Godson, Burrough, Hallam, Cooke (Charlotte), Barnett, Lloyd-Watkins, Barry Prosser and Williams (Chris). Burrough , opening bowler and precocious talent.


Fownhope and Lugwardine were no strangers to country school sports alas Lugwardine had always the Indian sign over Forlorn Hope in every degree of sporting ability... football, kwik-cricket and especially rounders... and so began another routine away win in the devil’s country. Burrough opened provocatively bowling with continued un-airing accuracy and guile. He had quickly been recognised as the inventor of the wrong’un, flipper and doosra of the Hereford Country Primary School Circuit, he had already outfoxed the fox and unleashed the fury as Fownhope stood petering on defeat with a shameful 1 rounder for 7 people out, (Primary School Rules dictated everyone to get an equal chance of batting therefore it continued until the entire team were bowled out – in the interests of fairness and justice, moreover to give the 7 fingered, 3 notriled Fownhopians a mild sliver of self-satisfaction as they presided over yet another defeat, safe in the knowledge that everyone had ‘had a go!’). Then a flaxon haired, ox of a wildebeest hauled himself off the canvas to be the last man in bat.

“The names Dickerson, Stuart Thomas Ignacious Bruno Meatloaf Psycho Dickerson,” he was heard to utter under his breath at the point of taking guard as well as asking the umpire what time it was, so he could get back for Button Moon followed by a Round The Twist Double... Ignacious Bruno was cheered on by the customary scorer, one man and his dog and the dinner ladies who hoped to get close enough for his autograph at some time or maybe even a lock of his Carrib eeee an sunset plats.

The rest of this story is folk-law, hero worship, conjecture, debate and sooth-saying all rolled into one to create hear-say that can only be corroborated by those who were there and hadn't blacked out or erased it from their memories due to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or disbelief. The official wording consulting the archives is reported as “Burrough bowls, Meatloaf Psycho casually sides up and tickles it around the corner, opening his body for maximum guile and minimum effort, making sure the ball doesn’t slip behind to void the ensuing gorgeous rounder". He even had the pre-pubescent kahoonas to tap each post as he went round before moon-walking over the line to a resulting towel and Sunny-D (it’s the stuff kids go for)... What ensued was a degree of masterclass that reworked the text books, resulting in a single-handed demolition of Lugwardine’s fearsome reputation as Burley Gate finalists. Dickerson was unrelenting in his style, power, grace, beauty, wit, charisma, charm and agility, before 12 minutes had elapsed the Human Weapon had caused more furore in the Long Hall at the MCC by troubling the scorers to an unfathomable 10 rounders. He was asked to politely doth his cap, with the line uttered ‘erm, Boom Boom Dicko Ignacious Bruno…. Shouldn’t we let the Sluggers from Luggers have a go?’

The testament to his gentle like manner was further swelled when STD accepted this reverse offer of declaration with a graceful wink, a hand through the hair and a polite nod and smile. Dickerson took another swig of his Um Bongo assumed his position as Back Stop and then car-crashed his way to a magnificent display of catching that every crooked Pakistani book maker can only have nightmares about as this boy was incorruptible and oh so handsome.

Stuart took no less than 8 (EIGHT) catches, four off consecutive balls and even had the audacity to throw a cart wheel as he plucked out Naomi Hallam’s repugnant attempt to bring the Sluggers back into the match as last woman. Ladies and Gentlemen, that day history was made – it was pre sponsorship – pre big TV channels, pre D & G on the side of a building wearing, but that man will never be forgotten.

Dickerson shunned the lime light, he hated the attention, an intensely private individual, he preferred instead to reconvene on the record books by opting for a career in the Antipodes making the finest chocolate the world has ever seen and Fat Man Goop has ever tasted (GWD) .. just ask Sassy Sarah (you smoothie). He still resides there to this day, with only the privileged few to know what miracles he now purveys over on a weekly basis.


The Bishop of Hereford Bluecoat School’s tennis courts were the mid-90's amphitheatre for what can only be described as the Russel Crowe of forehands. The gladiators of the day, a spotty pimply Dan Perkins, a rather chubby David Charles, the enigmatic Cap and his ever trustworthy wing-man Simply Red were the stars of the show. Their outstanding performances on the hallowed concrete always meeting with approval of the Caesarial-womaising-poncing-testical-flashing prick Mr Cox. What these heroes in short shorts were lacking however was a nuclear warhead in their armoury. Their serve and volley game and dependable top-spin backhands were but nets and swords when compared to the nuclear trident that was the young outlaw’s forehand.

Honed on the Fownhope Tennis Club courts against the beautiful Mandy Cleland. In fact it is rumoured the only reason that sapling of love never bloomed into one of the rose bushes outside of the Crown pub just down the road, was the fact that the young Miss Cleland was petrified of the raw power the strawberry haired young buck had at his disposal. Nets would be replaced on a weekly basis, first years not knowing any better would be carried off in ambulances after wondering onto the courts while the young Prince warmed up, strings would be broken, wrists strained and testicles removed when boxes were forgotten...

...unfortunately for the young Stuart Dickerson the promise he showed in the third year which saw him ranked 5th seed in his year was never fulfilled. He never broke into that Top 4 and as a result never appeared on any team photo.

By the 5th year, so distracted by the increasingly shorter skirts worn by his sparring partner Miss Cleland, Stuart had fallen down the pecking order behind: Dan “still spotty but a nice guy” Perkins, Christian “I’m now stupidly disgustingly fat because I hung out in K’s pool club too much” Hanshaw, Dave “still fat but a nice guy” Charles, Cap, Simply Red, John “was he really Japanese?” Dexter, Geoff “I’ve got a square head” Godson, Jack Simmons, Aarron “no name needed just a cock” Smithson, John “I have the second biggest lips in the year” Goodwin, Simon Wood, Jelly, and most of the girls in our year.

The forehand gone, the promising career wasted, Stuart was a massive disappointment to all at Fownhope Tennis Club... well... almost all...!

The Phantom Cricketer

Considered a close encounter of the second and third kind, numerous strange sightings were reported during the wet and windy winter of 1998. Hereford city centre, with its dense population of pubs, seemed gripped with fever as the sightings continued throughout the winter. Strangely these freak occurrences were confined to the early hours of either Saturday or Sunday and within 200m of the local night establishments; Marilyns or the crystal rooms. Mr Jones, manager of the Golden Galion described his close encounter “I was just locking up when I saw a ghostly character across the street, he seemed normal enough when suddenly he started bowling. Not ten-pin but cricket think he was right arm medium pace though the action was a bit off and I’m sure it would have been illegal as his arm was bent. The strange thing was that he didn’t have a ball or anything”. Numerous independent witnesses verified the strange characters description of ghostly white skin, strawberry blond hair and with a brown jumper / shoe combo. The sightings eventually ceased in mid 2000 though to this day it is a mystery as to the motive of the phantom.

Eating Champion

You won't eat all those sausages.jpg

Eating Champion 2001

  • 1st Stuart Thomas Dickerson
  • 2nd Simon James Wood
  • 3rd James Peter John Butler

Controversially claimed the coveted title of Hereford under 21's Eating Champion in suspicious circumstances in or around the summer of 2001. The following extract is from the current Sporting bestseller "Great Mysteries of the Sporting World":

After Woody won the inagural championship in 2000 (aka the mingingest lasagne ever created... "just add some more herbs and some olive oil... it'll be amazing") the 2001 competition was enixtracibly thrown when Woody the odds on favourite was dramatically disposed of.

After the lasagne debacle of 2000 the chosen foodstuff was cereal... and Woody was sure to be the winner. Unbeknown to everyone else one Stuart Dickerson had been reading up on the human digestive system and had set off at a franetic pace. Remarkably for a man once quoted as saying "there is no way you boys are going to eat all of those sausages", and subesquently enraged when proven wrong, Stuart was 11 bowls down before anyone else had completed 3 he sat in the chair with a smug but slightly sick look on his face. Like sandy lyle at his best in the masters he sat top of the leaderboard and waited for those around him to fail... and so they did trailing in with scores in the 6's and 7's leaving Stuart Thomas Dickerson as the undisputed heavy food eating champion of the Hereford world. Infact its another title he holds to this day... a true champion for almost a decade.

That was however until footage surfaced in the popular British Newspaper "The News of the World" showing Simon James Wood taking £17 petrol money from a uzbekistan betting syndicate in order to throw the bout. Whilst SJ Wood strenously denies the allegations and insists he was in extreme danger when the footage was shot a level of doubt surounds the 2001 championship to this day a rematch would surely be a boxoffice smash - with London restaurants The Ivy and Claridges both promising significant sums to stage the event however with reining champ Dicko hiding out in the southern hemisphere and Simon Wood a shadow of his former talent this looks unlikely - or does it?

Other book extracts of relevance:


Extract from – Did that really happen? - Famous sporting mysteries from yesteryear by Scott Chegg.

In 2001, deep in the Herefordian countryside the infamous annual eating championship commenced. The venue, a haunted former coaching house from the 16th century; known only to the contenders of this prestigious title as Butlers. Competition rules meant that the food of choice for this year would be cereal. Cornflakes were chosen by a majority vote though Kellogs were identified as inadequate, so Tesco’s “Finest” brand and semi skimmed milk were given the green light. Competition rules also allowed competitors choice of crockery and utensils. In the hunt for the title this year:

Favourite and reigning champion famed for his pace and power Simon Wood, Matthew “I eat more when its free” Bishop, Sandwich specialist James “Breadboard” Colley, Paul “The Cookie Monster” Cook, Steven “Inspector Badget” Roberts and un-fancied wildcard entry Stuart “Kitkat” Dickerson. James "The Flower" Butler dogged by injuries and lactose intolerance issues was a non runner.

The contest itself was virtually over before it began. From out of nowhere wildcard Dickerson wasted no time at all in demolishing seven 30g bowls within 15 minutes, catching the rest of the field completely off guard. That psychological blow was massive. No one else stood a chance. The 60g bowls in use by everyone else was a huge tactical error. Milk absorption rate was at its optimum and the crisp clean spoonfuls of the cornflakes were replaced with a soggy, stodgy ordeal. Challengers dropped like flies. Out first were Roberts and Cook, clearly punching above their weight. Next out after two 60g bowls came Bishop and Colley followed by the usual excuses. Dickerson sat looking on showing no emotion, just pure focus. Only Dickerson and Wood were left, the former sitting pretty; Wood with everything to do. He had no hope. Dickerson had raised the bar high. Too high. Wood crashed out on three 60g bowls. He had nothing left. Not even “prescription” medication could help. Poor or poo-er by anyone’s standards. Dickerson: the Eating Champion of 2001. David had spotted the chink in Goliath’s armour and exploited it.

Extract from – Gluttony is good - memoires of a fallen champion by Simon Wood.

I prepared as I had done previously, a big eat four times a week usually consisting of a 72oz steak in case it was meat again this year. Not forgetting of course the weekly twelve tubs of Philadelphia (NOT that Philadelphia Light shit but the real stuff) sixteen packets of Jacob’s Cream Crackers and twenty cucumbers. I thought I was in good shape. I wasn’t too worried about the competition I faced. I mean no one had stepped up to the plate for the previous 10 years. Who was going to do it now? I’d never even considered a wildcard. When I look back now, after all my drink and drug problems, that was the turning point. I don’t blame the guy. I hate the guy. I’ve lost it all because of him, my pride, and my self-respect.

Extract from – Dickerson: The Man - The Legend – Study of a sporting superstar by Colin Dickerson.

The previous competitions had not gone well for Dickerson. He’d not made it past the first round in 1999 or 2000. In 2001, his training schedule had to change. He’d have to become a different type of player; his legs had gone, and he needed to adapt his game. Dickerson changed his coach and many of aspects of his life. He turned to meditation and Tai Chi, getting in touch with his inner self. The woods around Fownhope became his sanctuary. No one knew who this new coach was; sources close to Dickerson claimed the coach was female and a native to the lands around Fownhope known simply as Clelandy, but this was never confirmed by the Dickerson camp.

The new coach brought about a new approach from Dickerson and took him back to his love of the game. A new eating schedule of Bavarian smoked cheese slices and crisps was developed and the new coach encouraged Dickerson to play to his strengths and to think outside the box. Dickerson spent weeks and weeks experimenting with new techniques, using spoons, forks, knives, chopsticks, and even his bare hands to pass food from the competition table to his mouth. He varied his posture, his chews per swallow rate (CPSR) and his bowl/plate position on the table. Dickerson was doing something which had never been done before in the sport. Dickerson, who was widely regarded as a “Slow & Steady” pace man by other competitors, was now secretly adapting his game and fast becoming a master tactician, developing concepts that would eventually propel him to join the table of “Grand High Consumers”. Dickerson - the man with a plan; using science and methodology to combat what was previously the inevitable.

Stuart Dickerson: Hats off to you!

Great Sporting Mysteries Solved

The Munch

(Factually incorrect; citation needed)

Tales are often told in the depths of rural Herefordshire about what has simply been known as “The Munch”. This mystifying noun has been a part of local dialect since 2005 and it is unexplained as to how and where it derived. Rumours have circulated that it could indeed be a venomous bite similar to that of an African Black Mamba snake, whilst it has also been heard that it could be associated with the speed of a Japanese Bullet Train. Recent investigations into the origins of the phrase have remained inconclusive, but wild tribesman from the Haugh Woods area of Fownhope have portrayed, through hieroglyphic inscriptions on a phone box outside the New Inn, what seems to be the clearest indication yet that this was in fact an act of cannibalism on a football pitch.

The Munch

The images depict a man, potentially of Viking descent due to the colour of his hair, writhing around in agony clutching his left ankle. This leg appears to be in pieces and it seems as if someone had feasted on the flesh of this limb, as if someone had consumed the soft tissue surrounding the bone or “munched” it away if you will.

The images have shocked the world as to the seriousness of injury that can be caused should you be the recipient of a Munch (a Munchee). However, even more disturbing than this has been the leaked photograph of the rare Red-Headed Munchee attempting an act of retribution on his assailant, the Lesser-Spotted Yorkshire Muncher. The photograph shows the Munchee propelling himself at the legs of the Muncher, but being resisted by a swift and smooth rotational evasion of the attack. This picture alone has confirmed to scientists that should a Munch be completed, there is absolutely nothing that the receiver can do in order to execute his own act of violence and aggression. Resistance is futile and the Munchee is simply encouraged to accept his fate.

The term “munch”, as a result of these recent findings, has now been added to the 2010 edition of the Oxford English Dictionary.


n. the munch, a munch 1. a vicious assault often seen on a football pitch.

v. munched, munch•ing v.intr. 1. To feast on lower limbs audibly or with pleasure. 2. To tackle enthusiastically.

"With legs the size of treet trunks he strode..."

With legs.jpg

The origins of the marathon and the factual basis of the events of the Battle of Marathon are disputed. The battle between the Athenians and their Persian invaders itself is not disputed but the stories which hold the most interest for the modern day athlete are mixed and often blurred. Whether it is accurate that Pheidippides ran 140 miles to request help from the Spartans in just 24 hours, and whether it is accurate that he covered the same distance the following day to deliver news of their delay in helping the Athenians is not entirely known. Further, the accuracy of the most popular story that he then, after battle, covered the 26.2 miles to Athens to deliver the news of the Athenian victory with his very last breaths, is not known. Though a romantic image of the feats of human endurance and sacrifice, and with a legacy dating back to 490BC, the one thing that is universally agreed upon by all modern day mythological historians is that the legacy of Pheidippides achievements paled into insignificance with the efforts of one man in and around the winter of 2001.

It is told, and often in whispers in the dark smoky corners of Ye Olde Greene Man Inne, for one does not wish to appear foolish when discussing achievements surely no mortal man could ever accomplish, that at this time once man surpassed anything Pheidippides ever did. The accuracy of the events have been disputed, the facts, timings and actual route taken is unknown also, but the legend is as strong as that of Robin Hood or of King Arthur and Excalibur. It is a tale of one flame haired man, standing at least 7 feet tall with muscular legs the size of tree trunks, arms as large as Hercules and a back as strong as an ox. This unnamed man on this cold dark night, where temperatures dropped below freezing and when the rain fell so hard that it seemed to coming from the ground up, travelled from Marilyns nightclub to a land far far away known only as Foonhaupe. For the fact that no mortal man has ever travelled this distance it is impossible to know just how far it is but it has been said that old Frodo had it easy compared to this hero of our time. With only Officer’s Club jeans on his legs and a thin Millets jumper upon his enormous torso this man ate up the miles with his old brown school shoes arriving at his destination before day break.

It is unknown why this Godworthy (see: Noami) individual chose this route refusing all other offers when; chariots home were available for about a tenner, offers of a bed for the night were made by his underlings, and Woodioussey even offered to drive him home, but for the hopes of all mankind it is essential that he did, for it sets a target, albeit an insurmountable one, for all of the human race to strive for.

UPDATED 2009 (factually more accurate; citation needed): at the turn of 2009 vicious rumours started to spread about the accuracy of the above tale of God-like achievements. It was suggested by certain non-believers that instead of the grueling trek above, the flame haired individual instead snuck off early, put 20p in the phone box outside of the cinema and called up Colin Dickerson for a lift home before loitering for 20 minutes in Lidl carpark concocting a story he would tell his friends the next day while he waited for his Dad to arrive.

Extra Curricular

Handwriting Skills


Although not known for his common sense (for examples, see above/below), Stuart Thomas Dickerson was arguably one of the smartest kids in Herefordshire during the 1980s and ‘90s. An honorary member of Mensa at the age of 4 and with rumours circulating in the late ‘80s that he had beat world chess champion Garry Kasparov during a ‘casual game’, meant that Stuart secured a place at The Bishop of Hereford’s Bluecoat school despite living outside the catchment area. It was at Bishop’s school that Stuart would really begin to show his full potential and leave his mark on Herefordian society that lasts to this day. It was also at Bishop’s, however, that one of Stuart’s only flaws would start to show through – a disadvantage that would eventually prevent him from reaching his full potential in the academic elite.

It was during GCSE History lessons that problems first began to arise. On an early winter’s morning, two of Stuart’s classmates S.W and M.B (names omitted for privacy) realised that they had not written an important piece of history homework and would risk one of the worst punishments of early ‘90s schooling: a D-merit. Fortunately for them, a helping hand in the form of Stuart’s completed masterpiece meant that a word-for-word copy was just about possible during the lunch hour, thus rescuing them from this terrible fate. Given the exact content of all three essays similar grades were expected. It wasn’t until the following week when the homework was returned, however, that the terrible truth would be revealed: Dicko had an ‘A’ minus. Disappointed and dejected, what Stuart couldn’t quite believe or comprehend was why M.B. had received an A* (weirdly S.W had a B-, hehe). Then it hit him.

Yes, Stuart was a victim of his own presentation skills.

This cycle of copying and receiving below-par grades was to continue for the remainder of his time at Bishop’s school. Some say he was never the same again after that first A-minus. Once a budding genius, Stuart would later be seen ‘Phantom bowling’ around the streets of Hereford and, more recently, became a lager advocate.

- S.W is now an honorary professor at Oxford University and has a multimillion pound nanotechnology empire (factually incorrect, citation needed). - M.B is still living off the academic success given to him on the back of Stuart’s homework, but has never really matched the quality of his early work at Bishop’s Bluecoat School. - Stuart, now living in New Zealand, once wrote an equation that would change the way we think about space and time and the universe forever. Unfortunately no one could read it.


The Highs and Highs of Stuart Dickerson


1st of The Boys to dabble in drugs... "Glastonbury... and you would have loved it"

It’s the summer of 1999, and a small selection of the boys have with a quick walk down to Andy’s Records and in return for seventy five of their hard earned pounds setup what will be their first foray into the dark world of music festivals. Amongst the many highlights of the festival, set to the soundtrack of ‘It’s the end of the world as we know it’ and with rumours circulating about the improper use of frying pans, Stuart became the first of the group to dabble in narcotics. Now granted they weren’t the most dangerous of narcotics, or for that matter even classified as drugs, and yes there are massive homosexual connotations attached to them, but Stuart Dickerson became a big man when he stepped up and grabbed that small bottle with “Pure Gold” printed on the side and took a big whiff.

And what did he learn? Poppers give you a head rush for 2 minutes followed by a 2 hour headache. He is now widely regarded as the modern day Pablo Escobar.

Then again there was that time in speed queen . . . . . . .

Drug & Alcohol Counsellor

Being a sensitive soul Stuart has always strived to better himself so as to help others - a selfless act, which is rare in today’s world. So when he started counseling those unfortunate enough to have dipped there ink in the devils snuff, it was no surprise to his friends & family. When probed about his qualifications for such a role, he was very confident that lighting a joss stick in memory of his past tortoise Brian was perfectly sufficient. When asked what he prescribes his most down & out patients, again he could not be swayed that his miracle home brew was a perfect treatment - it even has the happy side effect of turning your hair from ginger to strawberry blonde. Now his tender loving care to this particular community could have been over shadowed unless he had his moment to shine in front of the boys.........and yes his time did come.

Celebration was in the air, excitement round every corner, the echo of girly giggles ever present; yes....it was New Years Eve 1999, the turn of a millennium. All of Stuarts training, dedication & pernash was about to be put to the test.......he was carrying (with the help of a confused Simon) a drunken, unstable & incoherent Royboy home to his parents at the disappointing time of 9.35pm. During this feat worrying conversation arose as to what explanation could be given for Michael’s lack of speech & all movement.....

"I think we should just tell them that someone spiked his drink" a confident Stuart suggested.

"Doontt sayyyey thhatt!!!!!!!! theyyy wiiillll fllippp I telll yee" a desperate Roy bellowed!!!!

"Let’s just tell them that he’s drunken abit to much and took himself out the game" replied Simon.

So the moment came after Mr Powell Snr answered the door, to what can only be described as 2 blokes trying to support a large tub of wobbly jelly, to stand up & be the man... To save lil mikey from a world of grief, make his professional presence known & put Mikes fathers worst fears to rest instantly.

Instead, all that was heard was the expressive voice of a quire boy all too quick to blurt out


Thanx mate.

NZ Celebrity Chef of The Year 2010

An example of his skills.jpg

Not only the World’s greatest chocolatier, Stuart Dickerson is quickly becoming the TV Chef of 2010 in New Zealand. After clocking up a massive 14 seconds (cumulative total) of air time, his face was voted the most recognisable in New Zealand in 2010 pipping both Russel Crowe and Jonah Lomu to the title. His career is going from strength to strength, and he is now available for bookings and guest appearances (if you can afford him). For further information please contact his agent: J. Dickerson, Leeds.


There were many highs and lows to the Hereford boy’s paintballing trip. Wrestling at the Ellis mansion the night before, the head to head between the Jetta and Escort when Gareth got shafted by Butler’s dodgy driving and Matthew Bishop’s wasted money on a paintball grenade to name but a few. However the highlight of the weekend was the final stage of the paintballing day – Storming the fort. Everyone other than “machine gun” Ellis (who spent close to £200) had saved plenty of paintballs for this prestigious event, anyone who could touch the flag in the fort would be basked in glory and remembered to the end of time. It was a tense battle the blue team holding the fort stopped wave after wave of red attack and although slightly disturbed by Woodies attempt to get into a barrel and role up the hill to the fort, were sitting pretty with the higher ground. The stewards gave the one minute warning and suddenly for all to see a masked warrior with a red tipped gun sprinted to the fort. He hurdled wooden fences, took no cover and increased his pace further when he passed the dishevelled figure which used to be Simon Wood. He got to within 10m of the fort, closer than any other human being had dared when he was hit by a volley of paintballs. He stopped dead, but did not fall just turned around slowly and walked away. Still the bullets flew and yet he did not quicken his pace or raise his arms (the international paintball sign for stop firing) the onslaught continued for a good 10 seconds. Stuart Dickerson earned the respect of many on that bloody day although couldn’t sleep on his back for two weeks!!

Tatenda Taibu-esque Exile


Stuart Dickerson endured a self imposed exile from the Green Man Pub in Fownhope. The apparent exile was inserted from 2004 until the present day, no-one knows or cares why it happened. This was the most pointless self-imposed exile in the history of the world, the only thing that would come close would be when the 23 year old Zimbabwean cricketer Tatenda Taibu decided to retire after becoming the youngest captain in cricket's history, thus leaving the cricket team with only 10 players eligible to play cricket in the whole of country under the Mugabe regime.


Silent Scope

It was well documented that stuart spent a lot of his spare time, whilst in Leeds, within the four walls of the Fab Cafe. He was well known in the cafe for his energetic and passionate dancing routines that woo-ed the ladies of Leeds. He often could be found dancing a 'different' rhythm to the rest of the dance floor and some might say was the lead innovator in the creation of the 'Meatloaf Dance' (a dance that combined the technical dance step of 'standing still' infused with the tricky move of the hand across the chest holding the heart and the other arm raised like Meatloaf settling into a 22 minute introduction of Paradise by the Dashboard Lights).

In between the dancing and debauchery there was Silent Scope. An arcade game that demanded the highest skill, the calmest hand and the purest focus known to man. A game that involved sniping your enemy against the clock with points awarded for accuracy and stealth.

On a night, that many people still talk about, the boys were set in the Fab. It was Stuart's round and after a long period of time elapsing, (the boys wondered if Stuart had decided to walk home to Fownhope) the boys did a round of the Fab. He was found to be playing Silent Scope. It was reported that he had set an 'unbeatable' high score and the smug grin that beamed off his face after this declaration has never quite been beaten. Up stepped a very pissed James Colley. One go, one head shot from a 130m and one new high score. Stuarts night was over.

Over the next 18 months, Stuart spent every weekend in the Fab cafe. It was reported that he moved to Little London to be closer to the Fab so he could get 'double sessions' in. He was a man possessed. According to some, he spent thousands of pounds trying to regain his high score. It is not known to this day if he ever regained what was rightfully his or regained his beaming smug grin.

The Near Death of a Dicko

Cookie Car Crash

Dicko survived an RTA back in January 2006 whilst on his way to an FA Trophy tie between Halifax Town and Hereford United. After leaving Leeds at 12.30pm for a 3.00pm kick off he was surprised at having been travelling comfortably, then flying through the air at 345mph in a silver Citroën Saxo before smashing into a cliff, providing details to the police, taking a tour in a police car to Huddersfield train station, getting a train back to Leeds and then supping a pint in the Ashes pub, all before the game had even started. Quite an achievement in the space of 2 hours!

He walked away unscathed eventhough the car failed to explode as though located on a film set for Die Hard as some passenger(s) had anticipated. Dicko remained relaxed throughout and obviously had the welfare of his brother and friends as a priority.

From out of nowhere he was seen to be carrying a first aid kit and this remained with him for the duration of the day. It is unexplained as to where this came from and as to why it never left his sight. He was either extremely prepared or desperate to show off his Duke of Edinburgh first aid skills. The enduring image should have been the rocks five inches from the windscreen, but it is in fact that of Dicko tightly grasping a Texaco first aid kit.

Fortunately there were no serious injuries although one member of the travelling party suffered with severe whiplash "twinges" for a number of weeks.

Pink Polo

Being based away from Hereford City centre in your late teens can be frustrating. The need for independence and to stand on your own two feet as a young man compels one to learn to drive as soon as possible. Whereas the choice of vehicle is by no means in your hands, the goal is to pass as soon as possible especially when rides in Jetta’s and Nissan Bluebirds show you how good life can be when out on the open road. Stuart’s craft was a pink Polo, years before its time when pink was not readily worn by Paul Cook on a night out. On one bright sunny Sunday morning Stuart was taking one of his first test drives in the car. With Mr Dickerson as co-pilot, Stuart was keeping to the strict Fownhope speed limit of 15mph when suddenly the Vicar’s Wife overtook him on a bicycle. With reactions of a mongoose and recognising the peril the cyclist had placed herself in, Stuart did what any other hero of his time would do and diverted the Polo straight into the church wall scrapping the side of the car.