I had a mate at school called bazil brush - wow the number of shoes that got rubbed up on him! then there was a girl called gertrude ; kids used to shout out “heh gert” and then when she turned around pull a rude face! ; my name was charlie - they used to call me china boy and I could never fathom why?
still better than billy brag heh? or winny fred?
I’m looking for the truck driver.
This is me on the left, fishing in Bermuda. I was known as ‘Mike’, ‘Mick’ or ‘Spike’ the guy on the right was Godfrey. We called him God, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Ciderman, I bet you were unaware of Omega 3 back then.
Great snap Ciderman, happy days what.
Pug is like a Genie Sweetie, he only arrives when he’s asked a question, and no better man for giving the answer.;-)
I knew a girl named Gertrude Gummy, I loved her so much that I wrote a poem about her.
There was a young girl called Gerty
Who was rather randy and flirty
One day she met Basil, who made her eyes dazzle
When she saw what was under his shirty.
Sorry for repetition, but was that dirty Gerty from number thirty.
What a lovely pic from Ciderz.
Thank you.
I have just popped in to say Goodnight Possums. X
No! My body went brown and my hair went white! 
I’m reporting you Jem to the mods for not being rude enough!
My local charity asked me for ideas to raise money for researching Dermatitis.
…they weren’t happy when I suggested scratch-cards…
Scratch cards how are yeh 
Ollie: “You know Stanley, beauty is only skin deep”
Stan: “Yes, so who peeled you Ollie?”
Gummy, I taped a film last night and watched it today ‘Eureka Stockade” (1948). I really enjoyed it.
Set in Australia in about 1845, all about goldminers rebelling against unfair taxes and restrictions, they were led by a fella from Co. Laois (then called Queen’s County) in Ireland, Peter Lalor, a right massacre ensued after a spy in the miners camp informed the military about the build up of weapons at the camp, there’s always a squealer isn’t there.
I thought the film was very well made for it’s day, the action scenes, albeit in black and white, were as good if not better than you’d see today in a big budget film. I believe there was an Australian TV series of this event made in the 1970’s, with Bryan Brown as Lalor.
I have to admit that I never heard of Peter Lalor until I saw this film of a true and seemingly very important event in Australian history. Peter survived the massacre but lost an arm and went on to be the first rebel to be elected to the Australian Parliament. Good on ya Peter me boyo.
I once lived in Ballarat Jem and visited the actual Eureka Stockade many times - and it always gave me a buzz!
I’m a bit fed up today.
Ignore me. X
We all get like that every now and then Sweetie, you’re always in good form so you are due an off day when you feel like it, ignore you? never, leave you in peace yes.
Just wait until those two lousy months January and February hit, all the grumps come out of the woodwork to try to make the rest of us go out in sympathy with them. It’s always the same every new year.
When i’m feeling low I always remember the words of the poet and author Flann O’Brien, you could imagine the pint of plain is a bottle of wine.
https://i.postimg.cc/bN0zLLQJ/quote-when-things-go-wrong-and-will-not-come-right-though-you-do.jpg
Thanks Jem. X
I will post my story after my dinner.
We need more stories.
It will take my mind off my concerns.
Why I hate Turkey.
When I was a very little girl, my Daddy asked me if I would like to go with him and choose a Turkey for Christmas dinner.
I had never seen a turkey, and I was intrigued.
So we set off in his car, shortly before Christmas, to one of his farmer friends to choose a turkey.
On arrival, I could not believe how ugly and noisy they were inside this big cage. As he opened the cage door I could smell the pooh!!! Suddenly as we both entered, the turkeys went crazy!!! I stayed close to the door, as my Daddy disappeared amongst a flutter of feather and mania.
I was wearing my new red mittens, with a snowflake pattern that my Mum had knitted for me. A couple of the turkeys suddenly spotted me and started pecking at my coat, I tried to shoo them away, but one of those nasty birds got it’s beak stuck on my mitten and started to pull at the thread. Then a few more joined in, pecking at my other mitten, slowly I saw them unravel, the snowflakes disappeared, and red wool was all over the cage. I cried out for my Daddy!!! Those turkeys made so much noise, my cries for help were drowned out!
The next thing my Daddy came back with a sack, picked me up, and we were off and away.
The next day, I saw that turkey hanging in the outhouse, I crept in, and I was sure it was watching me, so I ran off!!!
I have never been able to eat turkey since that day.
I am in danger of posting a lot of gobbledygook, nowt new there.
And I was going to send you a turkey for Christmas, that’s that shot down.;-)
A great story of how we can all develop phobias when we’re young, if it’s any consolation I hate turkey too, always have, just don’t like the dry taste of it.
Its Ok with Pickled Onions.