Ah he’s gorgeous Pug, I love his affectionate eyes, I hope to God he’ll pull through alright.
I had a few very enjoyable pints with me Son last night, 48 he is now, where do the years go.
I was just looking through a list of old words we no longer use, shame because some of them sound nice, although I don’t think I’d get away with saying to the wife “Any sign of me supper yet Gammer?”
In days of yore, to yammer was to speak in a bad tempered manner.
Whet was to sharpen and mallet was a hammer, all proper grammar.
Waif was a homeless soul and cavity was a gaping hole.
Tryst was an arranged meeting between lovers
None of our business what they did under the covers.
Tippet was a shoulder length cape, and tarn a mountain lake
Password was something you gave to a Sentry
Well that one is elementary.
Oust was to take possession of anothers lands
And before you got married they had to read the Banns.
Gammer was an old woman, Ewer was a large jug
Goblet was a type of metal mug, am I right Pug?
I like the sound of Tippet for a cloak, I was saying to the wife that I might buy a black one along with a black silver tipped cane, very distinguished looking. She says that with my white hair and skinny body I’d look like a pint of Guinness with a dipstick in me hand.
Ah,I’m glad to find you’re interested in etymology,Jem
For words remain,though meanings change,through us misusing them.
Indeed a goblet was a drinking vessel,but one with a stem and base.
Whereas a gobelet was a mere bowl without handles,lifted to the face.
There are many words no longer used,that may still reside in your head.
Like ‘librocubularist’…[which means ‘One who reads in bed’]
Or perhaps a perissologist,you would rather be?
[it means to use too many words in descriptions,d’you see]
Or,if you’re really up for it,try ‘ulltracrepidarian’
If you ever want advice,this fellow is the scary’n…
He’s the one gabs long and hard,just happy to espout
Opinions and advice on things he knows sweet f/a about.
But there are also words that sound unfair
yet are complimentary to what we’re seein’
For instance,a lady with a nice bum
…is 'callipygian,.
Ok-you now know etymogogy
is a passtime in which I dabble
So I’ll now beat a hasty retreat
before y’all start to drabble.
With any luck you illecebrous femmes
with forgive my eccentricity;
as I saunter along this cloudy beach,
in search of a little apricity…
ps…Mags,you’re a real sweetheart and thank-you.
…but I’m still having to take 5 mins to find this page,as it just didn’t work.
But I thank you for the picture [I just can NOT do that] and for trying. XXX
You’re very welcome, Pug … 
I got a good chuckle reading that Pug, you have a grand way of stringing words together, I see you managed to get ‘Bum’ in there, there were no naughty words in my list, very conservative, it must have been compiled by an old bishop.
Blaggard (from Black guard) is never heard now nor is Bowsey, names we were called by orchard owners in our area years ago.
Didn’t the Beatles write a song about a horse called ‘Hay Chewed’?
'deed they did,Jem,'deed they did…
I’m as certain of that as I am of Robert Palmer singing “You’re gonna have to face it,you’re a dick with a glove”…
It’s tough for an old cock like me trying to keep up with modern technology.
Seen an ad on here for the new ‘Fluid Viewing’ from Sky. I was telling the landlord in my local about it, he says he’ll never wear it, he hates fluid viewing, you buys your pint and you drinks it, you don’t spend the evening viewing it, it ain’t a house, he says he wouldn’t be long in business if everyone did that. Makes sense to me.
Got no idea what ‘fluid viewing’ is,Jem…absolutely none.
…and,perversely,I’m rather proud of that. In the same way I have NO idea how to skype,nor how to operate netflix;plus I have NO wish to own a 3d tv,nor to put every breathing moment of my existence onto that bloody awful Faceachebook. oh,I have my moments-but MY moments arrive with a hall full of people and a rocking guitar [or two,if they like Blues on an old 12-string] Or perhaps letting rip with a bit of ‘Boogie-Woogie’ in Jerry Lee style on the ol’ ivories…but then,I’m a product of a bygone age,Jem.
Well I remember hearing,SO very often,as a nipper “You make your own entertainment”…and thus,learned guitar,piano and electric tambourine…[interspersed with the odd Guinness,naturally]…
Nope. It MUST be summink I’m doing incorrectly. I have ALWAYS been able to see all the subjects to which I contribute as they arrive in my email inbox-but suddenly,ALTHOUGH I’ve checked the boxes and clicked on ‘save changes’…nada. I have to go through six different moves to arrive here on my favourite subject [scribbles]…does anyone know what I’m suddenly doing wrong? Or am I just out of favour?
It’s probably just an anomaly.
That’s very strange Pug, I can’t think of a reason why you aren’t receiving emails if you have checked all the right boxes 
Another way to quickly find this ‘scribble’ thread is to go to your Control Panel, below your Profile pic on the left you will see ‘Find all posts by Pug’ (in red). This will link you to all the threads you have posted in.
I hope that will make it easier for you…
How’s Lofty doing Pug?
I love those old British films, I was watching one on the Talking Pictures channel called “The Green Man” A male BBC newsreader calls to his girlfriends house to find her in a compromising situation with a young George Cole, in a fully blown stiff upper temper he grabs his bowler and briefcase then takes up his brolly and wags it at Cole “By heavens I’d trash the life out of you if I hadn’t got to read the 9 o’clock news” That made me laugh, one must get ones priorities right you know old chap. Yes I know, I’m easily amused.
It’s not good news Jem. I’m having to drive 60+ miles each way to see him,spend a 1/2-hour with him,just to keep him going. He wagged his tail today,listesly,then just sort of fell over. Dick was good enough to show me the scans and x-rays. That lump is pressing on his blood vessels,which is causing restricted flow,which is causing the lump to deteriorate in quality…which in turn means it’s becoming malignant-but they can’t just cut it out,BECAUSE it’s so hard up against his blood vessels…so it’s catch 22. So,they’re using some magic potions injected via canular to shrink it in the hope of causing enough shrinkage and retractive reaction to be able to operate on Wednesday. I can’t recall if I mentioned,the w#nker who kicked him found himself face-to-face with me. I ‘discussed’ the problem with him and his #rsehole ‘tough’ friend…next day,the very next day,his family had moved his whole home out. Gone. He’s due out of hospital this week…I’ll bet my next year’s earnings that gutless punk is never seen around here again. Oh-and I got stopped-as in,a bloody great 4x4 suddenly pulled across my path as I was driving home yesterday and stopped me. Suddenly,‘blues’ started flashing in it’s back window and the self-important prick driving it got out and started giving me the old 'You’re in trouble,sonny" routine! Oh,REALLY??? Ohhh,boy-I was out of my car,into his face,and flashing my credentials in his self-important moosh before he’d finished his first sentence…and he sh1t himself! You have NEVER seen a noddy shrivel so fast OR so completely! Suddenly,I was ‘sir’,with a grovelling apology for stopping me and the WAY he stopped me-and I was NOT in the mood for his bullshine,believe me I wasn’t…so when I told him to turn his blues off and stop being a prat,try being a useful copper [in front of a whole crowd of VERY interested villagers and other road users] he went bright red,addressed me as ‘sir’ once more,got back in his importantmobile and buggered off. From that moment to this,my mate who was in the car with me has pestered the ARSE off me trying to find out just what credentials I hold,that made a copper change attitude so quickl.
I ain’t telling him…OR you…but,it takes a while to attain them. Nuff said.
BUT-sod that,it’s of no importance-I just want my mate Lofty to be cured,come home-and attack the letters as they come through the letterbox again. How can a chap feel safe,when there’s no-one to attack his letters??? [here’s a pic of Lofty ‘on guard’]
Ha ha @ Lofty on guard, he’s nearly as good a sentry as my little RockyII.
Thanks for that very detailed update Pug, I’m praying Lofty pulls through this, keep your hopes up old son.
Political correctness back in the early 1960’s. I remember this early example well, Stan Freberg and a Mr. Tweedy from the US department of correctness on radio, it was a very funny sketch, the song Freberg was to sing was ‘Old Man River’ and Mr Tweedy interrupted with a buzzer every time he spotted something incorrect. Sorry it’s a bit long, i don’t usually do long posts, but you’d lose the plot if I didn’t put it all in.
Freberg: Just kidding, just kidding. But it’s great to be with you tonight. We have a special–
Tweedly: Pardon me, Mr. Freberg, but my name is Tweedly.
Freberg: Well, we all have our problems.
Tweedly: I am the censor from the citizens radio committee. And, um… I feel–
Freberg: You uh… from the citizens radio committee, you say?
Tweedly: That’s exactly what I said, yes. I–
Freberg: And what is your purpose in being here?
Tweedly: I must okay all the material used on your program here, and I think the best method is to just sit back here and interrupt when I feel it’s necessary.
Freberg: You mean you plan to stop me every time I do something that YOU think is wrong?
Tweedly: Exactly. I’ll just sound my little horn like this (buzzer). And then you stop, and I’ll tell you what’s wrong.
Freberg: Uh, somehow I can tell this is gonna be one of those days.
Tweedly: You just go right ahead, Mr. Freberg. Don’t mind me.
Freberg: Yeah, now I’d like to sing-- (buzzer)
Tweedly: You forgot to say “thank you”, Mr. Freberg. Politeness is an essential in radio programming. Your program goes into the home, we must be a good influence on… children.
Freberg: Why, that’s a darling little horn there.
Tweedly: Mmm-hmm.
Freberg: Thanks very much, Mr. Tweedly.
Tweedly: You’re welcome, I’m sure.
Freberg: I’d like to sing a old river song in honor of this week of National Mississippi Riverboat Paddlewheel Week. Mr., may I, if you please?
Tweedly: Very polite, Mr. Freberg.
Freberg: Thank you.
Old man river, that old-- (buzzer)
All right, Tweedly, politeness I dig, but what in the world is wrong with “old man river”?
Tweedly: The word “old” has a connotation that some of the more elderly people find distasteful. I would suggest you make the substitution, please.
Freberg: I suppose you insist.
Tweedly: Precisely. You may continue.
Freberg: Okay, music (buzzer).
Tweedly: You forgot to say–
Freberg: Thank you, yes, okay. Thank you, Mr. Tweedly.
Tweedly: You’re quite welcome, I am sure.
Freberg:
Elderly man river, that elderly man river
He must know something, but he doesn’t say anything
He just keeps rollin’-- rolling,
He just keeps rolling along.
He don’t (buzzer) doesn’t plant taters-- potatoes,
He doesn’t plant cotton/cotting,
And then these/those that plants them are soon forgotting.
But elderly man river, he just keeps rolling along.
Tweedly: Excellent!
Freberg: Thank you.
You and me-- (buzzer)
The uh, the tiny tots again, was it?
Tweedly: Exactly.
Freberg: Sorry about that, here we go.
You and I; we sweat, (buzzer) perspire and strain
Body’s all aching and wracked with pain. Well, we got by that one.
Tote that barge, lift that bail!
You get a little… [he slows down and stops here, since the rest of it is “drunk and you land in jail”.]
Okay, take your finger off the button, Mr. Tweedly. We know when we’re licked. Well, that concludes “Elderly Man River” (buzzer). Oh, yes, and thank you for being with us, Mr. Tweedly.
Tweedly: You’re welcome, I’m sure.
Do your therapists know you’ve escaped,Jem???
GREAT news! Lofty had his surgery today. It turned out the lump was partially blocking his trachea and oesophagus as well as contsricting blood flow as it pressured several blood vessels-so actually much more dangerous and painful than at first thought…BUT…he came round after it was FULLY removed…and very first thing he did,even as he lay on his side with pipes and canulas in him,was wag his tail! Ok,it was slowly,I admit-but he’s now fully in the clear…and the lump,although dangerous,is NOT malignant. So,a few days to recover,on meds and 24-hour care and Lofty will be coming home! YAAAAAAY! [oh dear-bang go my ‘manly butchness’ points…sigh]
Great news Pug, so pleased Lofty’s op went well.
I hope it won’t be too long before he’s back home with you.
That is indeed great news Pug, I’m not very religious but I said a prayer for him, doesn’t do any harm no matter what you believe in, I hope the little fella has a speedy recovery.
Yes Pug I’ve been on the loose now for quite a while, I’m too slippery for them.
Therapists, Phychologists, Mind benders, and Brain washers, they’re all the same to me, a shower of chancers getting money for old rope, as far as I’m concerned if you can’t sort out your own nut how can anyone else do it for you. My old Granny was the best therapist of the lot, when your mind started rambling she gave you a clip on the ear or a kick up the backside to bring you back down to earth again, and it didn’t cost her a penny.;-)