Ah it’s just sad the way the young folks today have to struggle so hard to make ends meet, I miss the old pay packet and the feel of real money, they never experienced getting paid cash every Friday night, nobody sees money any more, we just have to take their word it’s there, it’s all up in a cloud somewhere we’re told.
What amazes me about governments who are always telling us to tighten our belts, is how they can produce billions out of thin air when there’s a crisis.
I’m all for progress, but progress with fairness, and helps to improve peoples lives and well being, the way it is now folks are worse off than we were in the sixties, for a start only the husband had to work then, now even with both working it’s tough.
The old pay packet.
It’s Friday night on the factory floor
The foreman is doing the payout
He stops at each bench, gives your name a mench
And says goodnight on the way out.
You feel a warm glow as you walk out the gate
Your lolly is safe in your pocket
Then it’s home to the wife, the love of your life
As soon as you’ve fiddled the docket.
“Hello my dear! I’m glad you’re here
I’ve got very good news my true
To my surprise, I got a rise
And here’s ten bob extra for you”.
Yes small as it was then it went a lot further in the sixties.
PS: You may have noticed I got a new sausage machine Gummy, it’ll be churning the ‘poems’ out now like no man’s business, oh you lucky people!
oh no not the old jem churning out limericks machine? - I thought we’d got pug’s to dissemble that one years ago ? - well let’s deal with thing singularly - projectile what did you say. There is a quite rare phenomena in very young children called projectile vomiting. you can read about in it those medico books but I actually experienced it watching my young son of 1 yr standing in his wooden cage thingy having had a cup of warm milk and some yuk cement like porridge and out it all came straight across the room and hit the opposite wall. we called the doc and he said "well I’ll come out straight away of course [they were they good old days heh?] but you will need to clean up your own kids vomit - it only even happened the once but it did clear my bowels pretty quickly too!!
projectile vomiting: not unlike throwing ones voice across a space of undetermined metres where the vomit doesn’t just trickle on ones feet but is like a snow from a snow machine thrown metres !
which brings us to that old thorny british thingo - the classes of England and presumable the rest of yuz in the UK?
the classes have been redefined:
Precariat: derived from Precarious - easy to guess heh?
traditional working class
Emergent services workers - hard gettin ya tonsils around that one heh?
technical middle class - well if ya can build ya own motorized scooter then ya in there heh?
New affluent workers - does that include diamond cutters I wonder?
established middleclass - we all wanted to be there once heh! - I guess if ya built a sun room on the back of ya house you were there heh?
and da ra The elite - don’t ya think that has got a tinged of sarcasm about it a sorta John Cleese lookin down ya nose thingy about it towards the two ronnies?
anyway after a countrywide survey from a UK uni this is how it came out - not sure if whitehall has sanctioned it yet could take years with bumbling boris. have a look at the carefully prepared package I have prepared for ya down below! it’s in the Independent so it must be good!
Went round to a buxom Ladies house once, thinking she was looking for a quotation on a block pavior driveway, I showed her some block samples which she seemed uninterested in, she said she wanted the driveway in Tarmac. I pointed out the drawbacks of this material but, she was insistent on the Black Stuff and I turned to leave but, she pinned me to the wall with those heaving breasts, and put my hands on her Bum Cheeks, it was obvious she just wanted her Assfelt.
I think every country, even tribes and clans, has it’s class system, some folks will always think they are better than others, that fact and greed are what make up the human race, sort of like bees or ants who have workers, drones, and queens, it will never change.
I’m just an ordinary working class fellow and quite content to be so, contentment is the secret of true happiness in my opinion.
My merrymaking began today, for me the best part of Christmas is the week before it, I’ll be meeting up with old friends and former workmates, some of my former employers too, so I won’t be here again until the new year, I have great respect for my fellow scribblers and would not log in here whilst under the influence, so I’ll take this opportunity to wish everyone a very happy Christmas and a brighter new year, God bless you all.
Once again the season of goodwill is upon us, and as Jim Reeves always says “I guess I get sentimental around this time of year, it’s the memory of that old Christmas card”
It’s one of Phyllis’s favourite weepie songs, so corny it makes my corns cry, but I endure it for her sake, may as well let you endure it too, so hankies at the ready folks.
I do remember Jem telling me once that Leisurely Scribbles ain’t wot it used to be and he just kept posting for old times sake. Well here’s to old times sake then:
there once was a posse of larrikins
brought together by forces unknown
they just appeared from the gloom
and just hustled for room
And of course to make their mark known!
There was a darling young man called RJ
his tales of his famous uncle held sway
Uncle Vinnie by name with some habits quite strange
but he regaled them again and again!
then along came a scientist Pug
who bedazzled us with chemical hugs
was known to drive a front loader
Play guitar with imploder
and was for ever giving SP hugs after hugs
then a man who had whimsical wit
who spat fire and metaphors as gifts
he gave warnings galor as he exited door
and pushed his bike home to greet ‘her indoors?’
then a mister who lived in the bush
always seemed to be in somewhat of a rush
as his rhymes tumbled out the others would shout
words of praise or was that cautions and doubts?
there were one or two fillies at times
who shared songs and remarks and some rhymes
they would suddenly appear and then disappear
I suppose it was a sign of the times?
but the laddie who kept stirring the pot
was a gem of a lad with a lot
of Irish and humour who kept away the gloomer
and encouraged us to be hard to plot?
It was a privilege to participate
With protagonists so great
But, fellows have to separate
Before Egos Inflate
Creative stuff can get convoluted
Then you have to introduce, “Right said Fred”
Before bourjois becomes instituted
A stance a Scribbler should dread
I’m too Sexy for this thread
Let that thought inscribe your head
To Scribble, you must have led
Got your number, Nuff said
they scribbled and scribbled and scribbles
till words tumbled off of the page
when they’d covered the floor
they just flowed out of door
and the revellers kept shouting for more
well we’re all tuckered out just afore Xmas
maybe come back in the New Year
the lads back from Kerry
after drinkin too much sherry
and his wife picked him up off floor
talkin of which we’ve had some great bands of this era Stones ; beatles ; EC and his bands ’ cream ; ELO ; but whats happened has the talent dried out for a moment or has the pandemic got their tongues? sing low sweet chariots? Same has happened in usa and oz - all disappeared ? we loved the big band eras!! there once was an age of big bands perhaps we’re now living in the age of little minds?
I think its more to do with folks thirst for it Gummy, a lot of folks interpreted the Big Bands approach as self indulgence, then, to top it all, we got the other end of the spectrum “Boy Bands” who didn’t play any instruments, talk about stripped back, just be glad we were there, to witness.
yea forgot Genesis and ELO great stuff - then we sunk to the level of screaming tuneless bands - well if it takes a decade or two we’ze gonna miss out old fella! - or maybe watch em from the sky?
