Ah thanks Solo. always good to hear from you.;-)
Howya Rhian.
Pug, here’a a nice bronze of Jimi Hendrix, he looks a bit like Mick jagger here.
Ah…well…I was speaking with a couple of chaps from here…and,errm…well…we all agreed that the Golden Age,will be from the moment you appear,sans lingere’,on your balcony and spread your arms as you smile at the sun in joyous celebration of your gloriously radiant femininity,Sweetie.
I agree,Jem…looks JUST like Jagger in the mid 70’s!
I’ll leave yiz with this to ponder before I head off for a well deserved pint.;-)
Hammered at the Rasher Counter.
Speaking of things behind you, as I said the wife was away for a few days, that meant that yesterday I had to do something I hate, shopping for a few food items.
It’s not really the actual shopping I dislike, I’m just not a natural shopper, I look out of place carrying a shopping basket and a list of groceries all around the supermarket, sort of lost looking, then you have all the female neighbours stopping you and asking you if the wife is sick and having to explain a hundred times that she’s grand, she’s away with her sister for a few days, terribly trying repeating the same story over and over again, I now know how Crippen felt when he got rid of his wife Cora.
Anyway back to what I wanted to say. There was I at the rasher counter eyeing up a few streakies to surprise the missus with a big fry up for her breakfast when she got in on the early train, I don’t eat meat myself but good luck to those who do, and the wife would eat a horses arse through a hedge.
I felt a slight tug at the back of me jacket and looked around, there was this little weasel of a man, a scruffy old fella with a huge toothless smile on him.
“Howya Charlie, getting yer rashers in early I see”
I didn’t know him from Adam.
“You must think I’m someone else old chap, my name is Jimmy”
“Ah well, whatever, we’re all made in Gods image, Charlies, Jimmys, Janes and Johns, listen ya wouldn’t have five euros on ya for a cup of tea would ya Harry?”
I didn’t know tea was gone up so much since I last had to buy a cup of it, but it wouldn’t surprise me the price of things in the city today. I gave him a two euro coin and he didn’t even say thanks, off he wobbled to the off license counter, took out a stack of euro coins and bought a bottle of vodka, I was aghast, thank God for verbal dexterity or I would have given him a piece of my mind. Anyway I was glad to be shut of him as the pong off his breath was unbearable.
So look out, and watch yer back the next time your at the rasher counter. someone might put the hammer on you.
Putting “The” hammer on someone in Dublin means asking them for money, not to be confused with putting “A” hammer on you, which is even more painful.
Beach balls always smelt a bit carcinogenic.
Hi Thunder Thighs.
No answer to that Spitty.
What about the smell of beach balls?
Rubber has stifled life, and in some manifestations has a curious aroma.
I think they are made of plastic these days.
So they will end up in the Sea?
I hope not.
Good Night Scribbles.
Alas & Alack , I have sad news. I have, just this morning received an e-mail from my ginger twin cousins Ronald & Donald Balfour who have somehow recently learnt of my correspondence concerning my late (there’s a clue) dear aunt Phythian.
Suffice to say that she passed away peacefully in Penge just a few days short of her hundredth birthday.
Perhaps providing positive proof, pending professional publication that will result in a full biography from notes made over a number of years by her acclaimed ambidextrous ailing amanuensis Annabel Abbott. Did I mention her?
I fear she is no more, demised
My deepest sympathy for your Aunt Phythian RJ.
I have not heard you mention the lovely Annabel Abbott before RJ, i shall look forward to any dispatches concerning this lady, unleash Annabel i say, Ding dong!;-)
Commiserations on reading that dear Aunt Phythian is no more Robert however if her legacy is to be your reminiscing of Annabel Abbott (no relations to that awful Diane Abbott woment I hope) then she truly left us with a promising read . So as Jem says Ding Dong
Ding Dong
That’s Leslie Phillips ennit
No matter.Aunt Phythian.
Back in the 1970’s I kept a colony of guinea pigs in a big shed in the garden with a huge wire run adjoining.
I also kept Shelties, Peruvian long haired & Abyssinian.
I must have developed my cavy interest from my aunt Phythian whose animals were reknown for their quiet & placid nature. Her first name was Dymphna , the tragic and beautiful Irish Princess
Aunt Phythian ‘s husband Algernon had a massive heart attack , leaving her a widow with 17 children to care for, all girls.
The shock of uncle Algernon’s sudden death & the realisation that she’d never have a boy now , resulted in her hair going white, then falling out altogether.
An ingenious solution was close to hand, she simply trained some of her better long haired Peruvian cavies to sit motionless on her head, sometimes for hours on end.
This little ruse was a great success, gaining many compliments from her fellow cavy keepers & looks of incredulity from the more streetwise folk.
Bless her, for when she discovered that her most used pet “Florian” suffered from vertigo.,she abandoned her ruse & began to appear quite bald in public.
You are in luck chums. I found some notes in a diary from way back. information which must ha vee come via the lady AA…
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Poor dear Aunt Phythian, my condolences 
I too, will look forward to reading about the amanuensis (I had to look that one up:-D) Annabel Abbott, Robert.
I am sitting comfortably, let the stories begin 
RJ, I once found a Milking Stool, the right way up, it was in the Dairy.