God what is the man talking about - however never the mind RJ - there is madness about at the moment all over the site and on others so your becalming influences will be gratefully received to calm the minds of us all - and as old uncle pugs would say " I thenku I thenku"
and it’s goodnight from me and it’s goodnight from him!!
Da doo Ron Ron Ron
Da doo Ron Ron
Just reading back.
I don’t like men with Mac’s, one flashed in front of me in London years ago.
I said, “Very nice, what else did you get for Christmas”, he lifted his umbrella and said, “These” then ran off.:shock:
True story.
I did cry when I caught up with my friends.
A fella I know is back from contract work in Saudi Arabia and he was telling me today that even in this day and age they still cut out your tongue for slandering government officials, and they continue the old tradition of cutting off hands for stealing and feet for escaping from custody, I believe male flashing is very rare in Saudi Arabia.;-)
Seriously though, that must have been shocking for a young girl, disgusting dirty old devil, I can’t for the life of me see what kind of kick they get out of flashing.
It was indeed traumatic Jem. I knew that the worst thing to do was to show fright. How I managed to say what I did, I have no idea.
Saudi not true, my friend was in the Supermarket there once, this guy showed his goods to her, whilst she was looking in the freezer section.:shock:
Got my keyboard and mouse for the smart television today, I feel a bit like Elliot Carver, from Bond Film:lol:
It does not come without it’s worry’s though.
Superenigmatix, there’s one hiding in the attic
And it’s getting all ecstatic cause it goes on automatic
When the lights go out
There’s one in the TV and it’s waiting there to please me
And I’ve got to take it easy cause I know that it can see me
When the lights go out
Inside, outside, watching me both night and day
Sometimes I wish I could make it go away
Sometimes when I’m dreaming, I awake to find I’m screaming
Cause they’ve taken all the meaning from the book that I was reading
When the lights went out
I know it seems outspoken but I’d love to see them broken
No more orders, no more slogans, no more keeping my eyes open
When the lights go out
Inside, outside, watching me both night and day
Sometimes I wish I could make them go away
Superenigmatix, always amateur dramatic
And they’re trying to get me at it
But I think I’m going to kick them in
Very impressive Spitty, ya must have had a few of those whisky macs after lunch.
Thank you Pug me auld segotia (a very old hiberno english word for mate, pal, acquaintance)
I’m sitting here with Phyllis and we’re having a glass of Sandemans each, relaxing having watched a recording of Riverdance and remembering when our only daughter Maria was a kid and we used to take her to Irish dancing lessons, she was fairly good at it too, but the main thing was she enjoyed it so much.
Alas that was many moons ago and tomorrow is Maria’s 52 birthday, just imagine having a 52 year old child! Christ where did the years go, seems like only yesterday when I was bouncing her on me knee, she is and always was a real daddy’s girl.
God has blessed us with two fine children, never gave us an ounce of trouble in their lives, and even if I say it myself, and I’m not one for blowing me own trumpet (there’s that man again :-)) they have done very well in life and we are very proud of them.
We’ll be having a small celebration tomorrow in her local watering hole, a slight bit posh for my taste but once they serve a decent pint of Guinness I’m happy.
Yep, it’s great when your own kids don’t behave like you did.
Sometimes though, you wish they were just a bit naughty.
Jeff Lynne is on the YouTube, on the tele, he’s now in LA, I was in his birth neighbourhood today, not for worship reasons, but not a niff of his presence never the less.
All the public loos have gone from here, years ago. Back in the 1950s & early 1960s there were loads of them and some of them were quite grand. Ornate little buildings, brick built with high ceilings. Excellent ceramic ware with full height privacy guards between each stall. There would be glossy painted ironworks , pillars & ball & claw ornamental pillars on the panels between the cubicles.
The admission charge of a penny was not expensive, but inconvenient if you hadn’t a coin of that denomination.
When I worked in the town centre there was a rather grand facility at the terminus bus stop. It was subterranean.
This premises had the luxury of an assistant, lurking in a little office next to the stairway. Sometimes he might make light conversation , in a non threatening way.
“Nice out today innit guv”…
There was a big sign near the office “Wash & Brush Up 7/6”. I didn’t care to ask what was involve. Or indeed if I could have either or.
As the years passed the whole place went downhill and the convenience became a hub for other activities, drugs, homeless people, indecent behaviour.
I came across the attendant years after he retired and he confided in me that in the end if someone came in for a crap it was like a breath of fresh air.
There was an interesting post script to this bit of local history. The site was acquired by a poster company who planned to erect a huge hoarding on this corner site but when they demolished the building they discovered the Victorian workers who put up the building had vandalised a unique Anglo-Saxon burial plot directly below. The site immediately had a preservation order put on it which prevailed for years until the poster company eventually gave up the fight and very sportingly paid for the site to become a lovely scented garden.
How’s that for a happy ending?
Without ghosts, there is nothingness, but don’t tell Gummy, he may be polishing his Ghoulies.
Et Tu El Spitto?
Young Robert I have just read your post. Where is this place?
You can PM, if you want it to remain private.
Good Night Possums.
“What’s wrong”, I don’t know but I’m sure we are better off out than in.
Is that what the girl said to the soldier?
I thought Spitty was talking politics???
Naughty boy.
Nice to hear that particular public convenience had a happy ending RJ.
I remember them well, we had several here in the city centre, probably all built by the same company as they were all done (no pun intended) while we were under British rule.
The ones with attendants were always the best to unburden oneself, the unattended places were inclined to have a perpetual smell of stale urine and the inside of the cubicles carried all sorts of obscene graffiti scribbled on the walls and etched into the woodwork. All the doors on the cubicles were painted that awful dark green colour.
There were so many pubs in Dublin back then that I very seldom had to use public toilets, I knew most of the bars and the barmen knew me but when I had to use a pub toilet that I’d never been in before the barmans eyes would follow me all the way down the bar, when you came out he would make a false cough accompanied by a “Ah hem” to grab your attention to buy a drink.
Some pubs even had signs on the toilet doors saying “For patron’s use only” These all had to be removed eventually as they were illegal, public house means public toilet facilities as well according to the old laws, whether they are changed now or not I couldn’t tell you, but I have never seen such signs on toilet doors since…
