Box? I know we had a staff box for all the cleaning, laundry & Liquor provided, I usually am very generous, but I’m not gonna continue if the box is so easily filched
We are all happy young Robert truly we are.
I started a new thread, so I could learn more of Gumbud’s travels. It is in this section - Take a look.
Umm…I have enough trouble trying to concentrate on THIS thread,Sweetcheeks! ‘Course,you,being a female woman ‘n’ all that,immediately decide us geezers having fun ‘n’ takin’ the pi…er…deriding each uvver means we’re enjoying ourselves…an’ you,being of the X-chromosomic division,have decided we’re having too much fun! HUH…You just wait till Robocop Snr gets his Orgazmotron out-it’ll take yerz to infinity and beyond!!! I know that’s true,coz he TOLE me! [but it’s a secret,so don’t tell nowunn. M’kay?]
OMG I lost the holiday sub-thread now where is it sweetiepie?
Everythings fine RJ, just a few old pals messin about, but thanks for your concern, you are a true gentleman of the old school.
Thanks for that tobacco advice Sweetie, I will follow it to the letter, it’s Golden Virginia by the way.
Gummy was telling me he used to go out with a girl called Virginia, Virgin for short, but not for long.
Meanwhile, back on the Moon.
It’s nearly 50 years since man was supposed to have landed on the Moon, (as seen on TV) and if one was to believe all the scientific hype that was about back then we should have bases on Mars and other planets by now, indeed I remember one newspaper was predicting the first baby would be born on Mars by 2015. One would think at the very least we should have regular Moon trips for wealthy tourists in 2017, I’m sure there would be plenty of takers for that trip to make it a highly profitable venture, so money ain’t the problem, but what have we got? manned space craft haven’t ventured out an inch past the orbiting stations in nearly 50 years!. Is it just me or does that not seem very odd to anyone else?
As year after year goes on and the 50th anniversary of the landings draws closer more questions are arising and folks will be demanding to know that how come with the lousy technology we had back then manned space travel was able to go further than today, it’s a perfectly natural question to ask.
Three years ago they launched an unmanned Moon ‘Probe’ that orbited the Moon for a day or so then had to crash land on the Moon, what was that all about? I thought they knew everything they wanted to know about the Moon, why ‘Probe’ it when you’ve been there already, or why didn’t they send a few astronauts, after all it’s not a million miles away, it’s only quarter of a million for Gods sake.
And now they talk about going to Mars? Pardon me for being a little sceptical, but the whole thing doesn’t twig with me at all, something smells bad.
It there is an absence of Water on the Moon, how come Henry Mankini wrote a song about Moon River???
It’s the default Chromosome, you lot are lucky to be men:mrgreen:
Ask David Icke:-D
Muse and peruse:
It was young Roberts poetry that alerted me to this threads existence, as I saw he posted here.
What did I find on my first encounter? An in-depth discussion on flatulence!
Disregarding this particular topic, I politely asked if I could join you all.
Spitty I felt was appalled, by the fact that a female had asked to join the all-male elite club.
But on further enquiry to himself, I was, in fact, wrong on all accounts.
I hoped that my friend, who had been a forum friend for some years, would enjoy this thread. As you are all aware, Fruity is now a regular contributor.
I then left you all to your daily postings, only to be informed by Fruity that some enquiries had been posted to the fact that I had vanished.
I am like Tinkerbell on speed, flying around the forum like a possessed being.
So I came back, and Lo!, behind the facade of some of you, lies intelligent and thoughtful real people, that I find a privilege to be posting with.
So I am staying and long live scribbles:lol:
What a lovely thing to say Sweetie, thank you indeed, the lads will all have swollen heads now and start trying to write like Bernard Shaw.
Seriously we are honoured to have you, and the lads will be thrilled.
Yerman David Icke did say years ago that he saw the devil in Tony Blairs eyes, he wasn’t far off there.
“She has no rings on her fingers, the rings are all under her eyes.
He left her on the Ferry and went his merry way”
Now she has nothing but time on her hands.
Words from a love song I heard in an old western film on TV today, it brought tears to my eyes, I mean how could he be so cruel to the poor girl, my compassionate heart bleeds for her, the swine!
I’m getting too sentimental in me old age, why just yesterday Bruce the oldest spider in me shed crossed the bench while I was working there, as he looked up at me with those affectionate eyes of his (he’s huge and has been with me since the shed was built 20 years ago) I noticed one of his eight legs was missing so I hastened up to the bathroom, cut a long strand off the badger bristle shaving brush, brought it back down, measured it up with his other legs and when I got it right I super glued it onto him, he was over the moon as he dashed back to his web to tell his family he was whole again.
Makes you feel contented when you help out your fellow creatures be they great or small.;-)
“She has no rings on her fingers, the rings are all under her eyes” I just love that line, it’s like “She had two big blue eyes, one blew right and one blew left”
Never work with animals or children.
You may have noticed that I often refer to sayings and wisdom given to me by my dear departed Grampy. He passed on from this mortal coil fifty five years ago and yet his witticisms and good advice live on.
He was immensely well informed. Art, Politics, Education, Finance. All these areas of human endeavour were familiar to him. Name a subject and he had an opinion on it. He has over the course of my adult life, equipped me with a readymade treasure house of points of view, irrefutable facts, and acutely observed muses and exquisitely witty conversation stoppers. , terminological in exactitudes. Regrettably some were, yes, only some. Now it is time for his valediction. As my Grampy used to say, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is” On my fifth birthday, I very cleverly asked him for a magic wand. Without hesitating he replied “But you are not old enough to have a magic wand” Even now I think that was incredibly accurate, and an uncanny prophecy relating to a generation to come after his, wanting it all and wanting it now. I digress.
There is no doubt in my mind that in truth, he may have actually said some, if not all of those priceless sayings. Certainly, he thought of saying some of those things. That is to say, he may have used some of those words. Not of course necessarily in the exact order have that I have used them, or in the same context. This may be a clue to the gradual revelation of this my confession to you. I was very fond of my Gramps. I would like people to think that he was an oracle and general fount of wisdom and knowledge. For example he was going to tell me how the camel got his hump and how the leopard his spots. This was when I was only ten years old. Many years later I found out that, Rudyard Kipling pinched Grammy’s idea and published it. The more astute reader, or in today’s circumstances, listener, will by now be forming their own view of events.
Be generous. As a spotty and painfully thin, callow youth I discovered the gravitas afforded an otherwise lightweight verbal aside, by a well timed , and appropriate,
“As my old Grampy used to say”,
This ruse often carried the debate. The addition of stroking my spiky chin and nodding silently, yet sagely helped enormously. My boldness grew with each passing sparkling quotation; I became addicted to and dependent on this ruse. … One day I announced grandly. “My Gramps told me to never work with animals or children” Silence. Drat, of course it was actually said by that actor chap, W. C. Fields. This is where I came in. Years ago I attributed any worthwhile saying to my Gramps, no matter who originally spouted forth, Gramps received the credit. ’
In the ominous silence that followed I heard myself repeating, “My Gramps told me to never work with animals or children”
I do not why I said that, even as I spoke, I knew it was not true. I have now grown up and let Gramps rest in peace. As my Gramps used to say. "
Robert, what are you waffling on about now? “Bless …
My Long suffering wife
I met my wife when we were working in a posh department store in 1967. She was a vision of loveliness, pure glamour and femininity. Ash blonde, like the film star Shirley Eaton. I know it was ash blonde because after we married in 1972 I saw ASH Blonde written on the label of the hair dye bottles
.
My wife, Gill, had been married to me for 27 years when I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. It was a bit of a shock to me, but being a nurse, Gill had seen the symptoms for some time and the consultant’s diagnosis merely confirmed her suspicions. Earlier this year we went shopping in a posh store. Gill wandered off and left me.
I did genuinely feel a bit faint and was happy for a dear lady sales assistant to find me a seat and chat to me, all the while grasping my hand firmly, and quite tenderly I thought.
After a short while Gill came striding towards me. I signalled for her to go away.A few moments passed. I murmured weakly to ask that blonde lady over there if she was my wife? Gill sighed and led me away for a cup of tea and a slice of cake.
We went to a different posh store the following week and I found myself. alone again. I felt faint. I really did! When Gill came back to find me in a chair being comforted by a dear sales lady she walked right past me.
When asked by the assistant if she was my wife, she looked, I thought, genuinely surprised and snorted.
“I’ve never seen him before in my life” I can’t say I blame her.
Readers will no doubt be aware that these last 2 posts were extracts from my diaries and journals .
I am experiencing writers block atmo.
Writers Block, phfuuf, you ever had Writers Block and Tackle??
You were lucky with your Grandad RJ, not to mention the lovely Gillian, my paternal Grandad was a cranky old git who had no time for children, the complete opposite to his ever caring wife, the granny, you hear me mention her a lot.
Never knew my Mothers dad, he was gassed in the trenches in the first world war and died shortly after being sent home to Dublin, his wife was left with 4 young girls to rear, my mother was the youngest, I believe he was a caring loving gentleman, who knows maybe I’ll bump into him in the next life.
Why were the two stagnant writers having a scrap outside the pub?
They were trying to knock each others block off.
Terrible I know, but original.
Yes, originality goes a long way, pity it ain’t organic.
Sounds tricky.
“Would you care to whistle it for me”
I will, as soon as I work up a head of phuuf.
RJ, meant to tell you, at present I’m fashioning a Didgeridoo, out of an Olive Branch.
Also, I think I have found the cause of much attrition in the world.
It’s the Ridges in the Ruffles
That causes the Kerfuffles.
Did you Spotty?
Fancy!
Wandering round a Persian market I found a Menorah. I’m currently making a Shibboleth from it.
Note to self
Must stop using the nickname Spotty
*drat this wordchecker.(confusion with Aspbergers))