Ah yes, Wigan Pier, very famous. I used to watch rugby on telly when I were a lad, with Eddie Waring as the commentator, and Wigan was often one of the teams playing.
Eddie was responsible for bringing new expressions into the English language.
Oop and under, He’s a big lad but his mother loves him, and, He’s going off for an early bath.
I only played rugby league once and I didn’t like it. Too much stopping after every tackle. I much preferred the original and best version, rugby union.
The league version came about because oop norf many of the players worked on Saturdays so would lose pay if they played. The teams tried to get the big wigs in charge of the game to allow them to be payed their Saturday wage so they wouldn’t miss out, but it was deemed that would breach the rules of it being an amateur game and no payment was allowed.
So, a variation of the Union game was formulated with two less players, and a league for the teams to play in, and payment allowed.
There are already some fine women’s rugby teams, but I’ve never seen any rules of the game requiring anyone to stick their head up someone else’s bum, especially a woman sticking their head up a man’s bum.
I do believe there is a rule in association football requiring every player to gob all over the pitch, and to hug and kiss each other if someone scores. I think that may only apply to the men’s games though.
Nice memories there folks, enjoyed reading them all.
Well done on the creative repairs front too, they say that quick thinking in tight spots maketh the man.
I’m afraid I haven’t got a similar tale, I know nothing of boilers or cars, as the wife said when I once tried to fix the timer on the boiler “Keep away from that Jimmy, I’ll do it, you may as well be looking up a Camels arse in the dark” she was right as usual, unlike Gummy I know nothing about Camels either.;-)
But I did save the day for my dear wife, I remember about ten years ago on a Saturday morning, we were going to an afternoon wedding and after breakfast one of the wife’s top front teeth fell out of her dentures, it was not to be found anywhere, she probably swallowed it, she was in a panic as there were no dental mechanics available over the long holiday weekend and she only had the one set of teeth, this is Gods truth.
I calmed her down as best I could and told her not to worry about it, I’ll think of something, so I went out to me shed and looked for something hard and not too white to shape a front tooth out of, plastic was no use, I had a bit of white marble but it had some black streaks running through it, no good either, then I remembered I had an almost empty bottle of traditional “Old Spice” aftershave up in the bathroom, perfect for the job, so I smashed the little ‘off white’ glass bottle, took a small piece and shaped it on the diamond wheel, then I polished and cleaned it, slightly melted the dentures with a fine soldering iron at the spot where the tooth was and set it in, lastly I burnished over the molten plastic to hold it secure just like a stone in a signet ring, perfect.
The whole thing took about half an hour. When I went back into the house and she tried the dentures they matched great, she thought I had found the original tooth and put it in for her, I was delighted to see the relief on her face, “You shall go to the Ball my dear” says I. Now I’m not one for patting meself on the back but I’ll admit I felt a bit like Sir Galahad that time at the wedding, she still has the tooth in to this day.
Speaking of dentures, I notice there’s a bombardment of TV ads for “Fixodent” recently, it’s a very competitive market out there, makes one wonder if the product is losing it’s grip. Bang bang! and a happy New Year to yis all!
Very good Sweetie, I’m sure the lads will have a bit of fun messin’ around with words after that, thank you.
Here’s one for the list, one for the downtrodden drinking population.:-)
Philosopher: An officer from weights and measures who visits pubs to make sure the pints are filled to their proper level.
There is a right old storm howling outside tonight, spare a thought for those at the mercy of the elements.
This is a very old Irish poem, it was in my school reader and had to be learnt by heart when I was a boy. I actually wanted to be a council housing officer when I grew up so that I could put that dear old lady first on the list.
It always makes me glad that we still have the coal fire, a full belly, and a roof over our heads, that’s all anyone really needs when you come to think of it.
The Old Woman of the Roads
By Padraic Colum
Oh, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods against the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!
I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!
Och! but I’m weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there’s never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house - a house of my own
Out of the wind’s and the rain’s way.
A good read, thank you all. Spent most of today at doctors & hospital trying to name a melon sized lump come upon my side at weekend…
I’ve got a name for it, but I can’t type it here.
a little tumble of thunder eminated then the pitter patter of gentle rain - all is well and God is in his heaven
Jem - you are very clever and have a very invented mind and seem to be besotted with the wife - haven’t you got anything better to do like play with yaself in ya garden shed??
Well 2018’s off to a FLYING start!
This morning,at 3am,my neighbour was banging on the door in his pyjamas!
[yes-I thought that,too…STRANGE place to have a door!]
Anyway-he started yelling at me-NO idea what he was bellowing about.
Actually,I’ve have decked him for such daft behaviour,if I hadn’t been awake and playing my drums!!! He’s SUCH an unthoughtful git…
Does anyone remember the TV series, Daktari? I never knew that it meant “vet, or animal doctor” until the I’m Sorry I’ll Read That Again radio show did a spoof sketch in the 70’s called, Dentisti.
I think I now know upon whom it was based.
Another bodge of mine was when I was and apprenti living in hostel that had formerly been an RAF ossifers’ mess.
Everyone was poor and ran bangers of the two, three and four wheeled variety on shoestring budgets.
A few times I was involved in engine removal/fitting on cars. The original method was a couple of lads at either end of a scaffold pole with the engine slung in between.
I decided there must be a better way and came up with the idea of chaining an old tyre-less car wheel to a roof beam, running a rope over it and attaching it to the back of a car.
The first attempt was not successful as the weight of the engine lifted the back of the car causing the (rear) driving wheels to spin.
No problem thought I. The car was swiftly turned around and the rope attached to the front. This afforded better control as the driver had a direct view of the proceedings and could smoothly lift the engine by judicious clutch control, and lower it simply by gently slipping the foot brake.
Tra-la. I had invented the motorised engine hoist.
I do love creativity Fruity, good on ya. Yes I do remember Daktari.
Oh yes Gummy the wife and me are still the best of mates, we still slag one another off, keeps us amused during the long Winter nights.
Won’t be long now till the grand reopening of the shed and then she won’t see me all day long, yes happy shed days ahead.
I remember reading in ‘TV Times’ many years ago a story about fans of ‘Ironside’ getting up a collection to send him to Lourdes, you all remember Raymond Burr in the wheelchair, anyway when he got there they wheeled him into the water and up the other side, he was very disappointed because he still couldn’t walk, but when he looked at his wheelchair it had two brand new tyres on it.
A nice collection there Gummy.
No.9 “Flatulence: Emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller”
Strange thing that, reading in the paper today about a steamroller driver who was laying tarmac in the hospital grounds and ran over a nurse, it seems he had a powerful crush on her.
I never understood that American expression “Having a crush’ I just don’t get it, fancy someone is much clearer.
What about that other old one “I think your swell” a bit like saying to your girlfriend “I think your pregnant”:shock:
"Elenor gee I think your swell…"and then he done a runner.
My little hamlet sports a hardware store which can also even manage a part-time female accountant – well she’s counting something and it ain’t ants! – I usually drop in for a chat and a coffee – foul instant stuff but it’s not quite poison and it’s free.
If I hit a quiet spot I can sit for hrs chattin to the manager who I call Mr Kevinka from Bulgaria cos he keeps his hair very short and the accountant Miss Bottom. [no she doesn’t have a big bottom but it is a cute one!]
I don’t think Mr K has a crush on me but Miss B may have.
She is a pretty little slim craft with graying hair which has seen better days and has a cute Kiwi drawl. [she has not the hair!] As a reknown raconteur I can amuse her for hrs and she giggles at my tales – yes I have more than one tale!
At a certain point in our discussions/ debates and debacles her eyes seem to go all glassy – like one could say glassy eyed! Or is that glazed??
Is this a sign of having a crush on me?
Getting bored with me?
Or just so bloody bored with life in general she will listen to anyone rather than work?
Wot do you think should be my next move?
I have enclosed a first class addressed envelope as my internet server has dropped and now in the monsoonal season it could be anywhere.
Dear Starry eyed, you didn’t leave a name so I presume you have a ‘crush’ on Miss B. and are Starry eyed at the moment.
This is a delicate one Starry but if I were in your shoes I would woo Miss Bottom gently and discreetly with little presents, smiles, and of course your natural charm, compose a nice sentimental poem with her name in it, shouldn’t be hard to rhyme something with bottom, but be careful Mr. K does not see you doing this, he might become jealous and lob your head off one day in the cafe, Bulgarian fellas can be very temperamental about love so be very careful.
When you find Miss Bottom in a happy mood and the quare fella is not around, politely ask her would she like to have dinner with you, if she is anyway interested in you, and I’m sure she is for who could resist such a charming fellow as yerself, she will jump to the invitation.
I hope all goes well for both of you, hate to see you and the Bottom fall out.
Nah - I never get starry eyed or get crushes - but I wouldn’t mind giving her one??
I think I believe in coming straight to the point ; erhm the head ; well the tip and then blasting away. The problem I didn’t mention is her hubby who I have talked to briefly and who is taller than me and he does drop in from time to time to buy hardware - I think he is gettin a bit suss already.
time is not on my side so I do need to strike when the iron becomes hot! I am now confused but perhaps I should just come right out with it and show her my lightning blade??
Very good Sweetie, I’m sure the lads will have a bit of fun messin’ around with words after that, thank you.