Thanks Gummybud I have ordered it on AMAZON.
So why is there a campaign, to keep Sunday Special, Saturday has always been a shopping day.
I’m slowly developing a fear of crowds, I wonder is it possible to catch an airborne disease from a fart? I don’t go to the race meetings anymore and avoid lifts as often as possible. I was in town recently with the wife and we had some business in a high rise building there, the place was crowed and they were packing themselves into the lifts, people of every description and shape, when I noticed the Solicitors office we wanted was near the top I told her to forget it, I’ll write to them instead.
well apparently saturday was always the sabbath going back into antiquity and then those bloody romans urged on by constantine changed it to sunday and so we have the 7th day adventists - now that makes a lot of sense. Remember the sabbath and keep it holy thus sayeth the Lord NOT constantine the unholy emperor. From there of course was developed the Roman catholic church and what a mess that has turned out to be - incest everywhere!
in my younger inebriated days I would stand in a crowded lift and then suddenly turn around and face everyone and say “good morning/afternoon folk, I suppose you are all wondering why I called this meeting” the looks on peoples faces was amazing
If you dropped a meaty one in a lift, would you hope the other folks would see the funny side?
Seems farts in themselves are harmless, but be wary of chemical farts.
“Smells in themselves do not cause harm. A smell is a neural response to airborne molecules binding to receptors in the mucus membranes of your nose. You can’t be harmed by a smell any more than you can by a colour. But the chemical that causes the smell can harm you. In general, we have evolved so that harmful substances smell bad, to warn us”
that would explain why my dog can at times be very dangerous?
when I first arrived in OZ on the good ship the Endeavor, Saturday was a half day shopping day. By 12 noon everywhere was a ghost town as all shops closed and everyone was glued to the tellie to watch the AFL. Eventually we grew out of that and then we had the arguments about shops being opened on a Sunday which became quite ferocious. 
http://www.sabbathtruth.com/sabbath-history/how-the-sabbath-was-changed
Anyone remember those stink bombs, the ones in the little glass tube that you stood on to break, Christ the pong was unbearable, as far as I know they were made from chemicals it’s a wonder any of us survived. The bombs were great fun when you let them off in the cinema as a kid, but then when I got older and was enjoying a pint with mates on a Saturday night a few kids would dash into the pub, crush a few bombs then out again in a flash before the barman could get out from behind the counter, it wasn’t so funny then, we’d all clear off into the lounge where all the old dears drank, the Diddy parlour we used to call it, sit there for the rest of the night listening to some ole one singing “Heart of my heart” or “Roll out the barrel” and the four of us sitting there in our winkle pickers and Beatle jackets thinking we were the cheese, Roll out the Barrel was very painful on a young mans ears back in the 1960’s.
, see the strange thing is, when young, some folks have no problem congregating, some do, but when older the same folks juxtapose, the same forceful folks withdraw, and the reticents flourish, why is that?
it’s called herd instinct - or is that herd stinks? or when mixing with the herd be prepared to be down wind of the turds? 
Some Lancastrians have a Hird instinct.
Some of the ‘Singers’ in those old pubs really thought they were on stage at the London Palladium, they went through all the actions of the original performers, one fella who’s party piece was “Secret Love” use to stand up on a stool when it came to the bit “Now I shout it from the highest hill…” We would be mortified trying to keep in the laughing because if they caught you you’d be out on your ear in a flash with a black eye to boot, these folks were all family related and you’d never know who was who’s Uncle or Aunt. They used the ’Noble call’ method of selecting the next singer, when the singer is finished he/she selects someone else and so on, there were some sights I can tell you, youths can be very cruel to the older generations but that’s the way it always was, a right bunch of slaggers we were back then, never thinking for a second that someday we would be doing the exact same thing we were laughing at now, round and round goes the cycle of life.
I’m just waiting for the wife to finish dollin herself up, the daughter was 50 yesterday and there’s a big hooley on in a pub in town tonight, if I ain’t here tomorrow I’ll either be sleeping it off or dead…
Just make sure you have enough to make a fool of yourself, then be told about it tomorrow.
as churchill once said to an irate woman driver - I may be drunk now my dear but tomorrow morning I will be sober - you my dear are down right ugly!
Good day scribblers … may I join you ?
Well tuff luck ! here I am :shock:
That word ‘hooley’ reminds me of my childhood.
Dad’s mum and her family were from Tallaght (Dublin). Dad was born there and when he and mum got engaged, or married, or something, they went over for a visit.
They were told that everyone was going to ‘a hooley at Malloys’
Malloys, being a local bar.
I used to try to imagine what it was like. Never been to Dublin. Met some of grandmother’s family when I was tiny and they were over her visiting. Guess I must have relatives somewhere in Ireland though … maybe I should investigate.
I shall start reading back now and see what you lot chat about.
There is no Chat in here, merely correspondence.