Anthony seems to be responsible for all trollopes
oh my god he’s gone of the rails again - can someone fetch the liquid nail gun that usually fixes him for a while - its the mention if dogs that does it!!!
I blame the cement drill he keeps using on his patio - sends him pottie!
actually I’ve just remembered she’s a cat lover - takes in strays - doesn’t say much for me does it!! - we do have a few parks around here and even a special dogs park but it so bloody hot in the day you’d need to get up at 5am to experience a cool walk and the could be easily spotted by the boiler suit brigade walking THEIR dogs - yes once yea spotted ya a gonner!!
No its not, its my Little “Mix” DVD, and dreams of Port-land.
I couldn’t think of much today so - A little toon to sing along to.
Ah Val Hooligan, long time since I heard that one Sweetie, thank you.
Quote Sweetie Pie: “We have King, never understood why the Queen one is bigger”
It’s probably called a Queen sized bed because the Queens take it over when they lie on it, If you saw the size my Queens bum you’d understand Sweetie, she lies across it and takes up three quarters of the bed.
When I was a boy Spitty, and that’s not today nor yesterday, the old Dublin women would refer to girls of a wild nature as Trollops, Rossies, or Targers, I think Targer was a bastardisation of Tartar or tatar, some kind of a race of Barbarian head cases I believe, although they could also be potatoes, I knew an American chap who ate a plate of tatars every morning for breakfast. 
I never hear those titles mentioned nowadays, all gone to the literature graveyard forever.
I remember Max Bygraves on Blue Peter singing to the children, a song that told them how to make tulips from hamster jam, very hard to spread hamster jam, especially when you don’t skin the thing first.
You are all barking potty
A note for Spitfire.
Have you any anecdotes about Florence Foster Jenkyns pls.?
Sorry RJ, my resource is working on the proposition that unknown folks have no wish to engage, Flo will have to wait, bygone eras have departed, not there isn’t a place for them.
try and keep on the merry go 'round - remember them as then went faster you had three options:
- hang on
- jump off or
- just fly away!!
apparently the old style kids park ones have been banned??
here’s a challenge now can anyone come up with a recent photo in your own locality of such an item??
Are you talking the stand on small cake type ones, or the larger, spiders web type?
The been on Google, there are some good photos in a folder entitled “When playgrounds were Deadly”, it’s only just struck how dangerous they were.
Ahhh,gumbudatious…how well you lift old memories,dusting them off as you place them centre of the mantlepiece…
Yes,yes,good sir;I well remember being in two foster homes around Maidstone,in Kent-where there was a HUUUUUGE park,that was also very big. I think it was called ‘Moat Park’ but that may just be me recalling Puggy Castle…[shuddup]…anyflippinway,there was a section of the park given to children’s rides,one of which was ever-popular,always busy,regardless of weather/time of day/grownups - and that was the ‘Witches Hat’. For those of immature years,the ‘Witches Hat’ was a TYPE of rindabite;but was a waist-height ring of wood,which was attached to a tall steel post by steel rods that reached out-and-down in sloping manner,usually 60 degrees,fixed centrally at the pivotpoint to a large,vertical pole…[ai thenkyoh] and it had the twin fun-factors of being able to spin,at whatever speed you could work up to,plus clattering against the vertical central steel pole-which,as childers,we found to be EXCELLENT fun…but which some miserable,gloating,friendless,expenses-fiddling,unhappy,unliked TURD of a polititian had banned ‘because they’re dangerous’. WHAT a total prick! Having no friends to go to the park WITH,is dangerous. Being the fat kid waiting in line to be picked for the team at football during P.E. lessons is dangerous. Shoving a pencil up your nose and asking your classmate to push it,is dangerous. Eating dogshit on toast is dangerous. Playing in the park on children’s rides is NOT dangerous. We all KNEW it clattererd into the centrepost,THAT was the appeal-and thus,what we all tried constantly to make it do-first one to fall off was a turd…ahhhh,happy daze…
If you ask me , I tell you it’s all swings and roundabouts
I was 21, and a lot more ages after that than before. I am now in my sixty third year, so I am told. I am unable to confirm my actual age as I don’t remember the day in question, although I do have a Sir-Stickyfoot with an alleged date of birth writ upon it.
As for facial hair, I once sported a fine pair of sideburns. They sprouted during a period of rebellion whilst I was still at school, and continued through to the end of a period when flares were in fashion.
They got ruined (my white corduroy flares, not the sideburns) when my young cousin’s boxer dog jumped on my lap and tipped a large mug of hot chocolate across my thighs. White corduroy they were before the event, piebald after, unlike my skin underneath that was pink with a wide patch of red.
The sideburns went in stages when my Lovely Cousin told me that she didn’t like them.
I used to shave off a couple of millimetres starting at my jawline, gradually reducing the amount of fuzz every week so that each time she saw me, more of my skin and less sideburn was visible.
This was before we were officially an item, but I took heed of her comments, and perhaps this was one of the reasons she decided to ask me out.
A man who listens to a member of the ossopite sex. He’s a keeper! 
My Lovely is smaller than me, and weighs less, but still takes up three quarters of the bed. I also get double quilt in summer and none in winter. I’m convinced ladies go on a course before they get married, run by Mothers in Law, that teaches them how to do this in bed.
It’s also the place where wimmins’ logic is drummed into them. I’m sure they know it doesn’t really make sense, but they still spout it just to frustrate us chaps. We are after all nought but simple machines designed to turn beer into pee.
The only thing I was taught before we wed was the 101 different inflections of saying, Yes Dear.
Witches hat roundabout.
http://www.leodis.net/imagesLeodis/screen/17/6917.jpg
Before elfin-safety spoiled the fun.
Note the nice hard ground underneath that encouraged kids not to fall off and therefore contributed to the overall safe operation of the apparatus.
We used to play the game shown in the video here, the one up against the wall, until it was banned by the deputy headmaster for being too dangerous. We called it Husky Fusky. I have no idea why.
Hello Possums
Glad the beds were explained.
Roundabouts, I have to say that Spitty sends me a little dizzy at times.
He enters the Candy Bar and blindfolds me, spins me round like blind man’s buff, I never know where I will end up.
Ssh don’t tell him that I am rather fond of him really.
Maybe it is better to stick with a Lazy Susan:-D
I hope you are all well.