The missus used (and to some degree) still is a “slip” of a Lady, and I doubt she is a Pillow Case.
Time will tell…we wimmin can wait ;-):-D:-D:-D
I’ll know when its time, she hasn’t finished with me yet, she still has to achieve “Peak Misery”.
Reading through the dailies gave me a raised eyebrow moment this morning as with all the ‘social distancing’ going on many broadcasts, shows…and photos are coming from folks own homes which gives those with a snoopy nature to get an eyeful at personal objects which may have been strategically placed or be there by mistake.
Now not being much of a nosy soul it all goes above my head…that is until this morning when I looked at a photo of a certain royal lady which had bright red numbered stickers all over it all pointng to articles in the photo. One in particular showed a price sticker on the back of a greeting card…and I ask you who in gawds name goes looking for a minute price sticker in a photo…and then points it out in case the reader missed it. Never has ‘get a life’ seemed more appropriate.:shock:
I would be sorely tempted to leave a dildo or some such sex toy peeking out of my sofa cushion or next to a lamp just for the sheer hell of it…as at least that would be worth searching for and with no stickers needed thank you .:-D:-D
Talking of 'social distancing…our beautiful birds know of no such thing and are in full song with all the joys of spring…so for your pleasure a little opera
Great to see the pair of you in such good form today, amazing how inspirational a bit of Sun can be in these miserable times.;-)
Slip of a girl, my dear old granny used to say that Spitty. The first time I brought Phyllis to see her she took one look at her and said to me “Ah sure she’s only a slip of a girl Jem, a mere handful”, how right she was, she turned out to be a right handful I can tell you.
When the tea was served that evening, she gave Phyllis a boiled egg, it was made of wood but looked exactly like a light brown egg, she even heated it up in boiling water, the poor girl was mortified trying to break the top off it.
The two of them became close friends right up to her death, she loved playing harmless tricks did that old girl, God be good to her.
It must be the innocent altar boy bit in me but there was I thinking a dildo was an extinct flightless bird, hence the expression “As dead as a dildo”, I believe they’ve changed that now to “As dead as a dildo with no batteries”, between them things, condoms, and leaky bladders, there’s nothing sacred any more.
Didn’t they use that trick of slyly promoting products when making films and stuff for TV, ‘product placement’ they called it I think, maybe this is creeping back in today with everyone being interviewed at home, they might even be getting little brown envelopes for their trouble.
If I was asked to talk about how us over 70’s are surviving this crisis I’d be sure to have a pint of the black stuff in me hand and a few Guinness bottles well positioned behind me.
HP sauce was never out of the British films and TV sitcoms they made during the 60’s/70s, and the bottle label was always smack in your face in every cafe and home dinner table scene there was.
It was a beautiful day here, the pair us were enjoying the Sun while tiding up the garden at the same time, our misery peaked at about 12 noon today, we peaked together and there was a bang noise just like when the sound barrier is broken, we are starting to level out now.
We could all do with a bit more of this good weather.
You are right there Jem…Nothing is sacred anymore which means non of that whispering that went on when we were nippers…mind you if it was whispered we were always more than hell bent to find out just what we were not supposed to hear. Seems so puritanical now looking back that things like bra straps…knicker elastic and such like were all whispered with that prune shaped mouth and knowing look that went with it
Still never did us any harm did it and it was much more fun finding out than knowing it all as they do today…I can’t imagine what our young minds would have made of dildo but one things for sure we would have laughed our selves silly that’s for sure if we had known the real reason…:-D:-D:-D
Some years ago on a Forum we were discussing a similer scenario to the one that we are experiencing at the present time and how long it would take nature to reclaim all that we humans have created with our man made concrete, plastic and steel etc. The answer apparently was not that long before evidence of our being here could be mostly obliterated.
At the time I was quite fascinated by video clips showing for example the power of grass pushing through concrete roads…and ivy clinging and eating into skyscrapers…though you never dream it could possibly happen…nor that humans could be so daft as to let something like that happen where nature has to do a reclaiming.
Who would have thought a few months back that we would be experiencing a bit of what a lockdown could bring about…animals roaming our empty cities
It wouldn’t take long for nature to claim it’s own back and cover up the cities and towns, makes you wonder how many times this has happened before and wiped out entire races of people.:shock:
My cousin Frank was never very clever, he’s over 70 and like us all he’s confined to his house, he was on the phone to me today saying all these new names, terms, and regulations has him gone daft.
The minister for health was the TV and he told us all to stay at home to “flatten the curve”.
Frank is a skinny little bugger and the only curves he could locate were on his backside, the cheeks sort of stick out like a ducks, there are some folks like that, so seeing the weather was good he went out to his garden, stripped down to his pants, and sat on the solid brick wall for four hours holding a 2 stone bag of potatoes on his lap, when he got off his bum was sore but it was still the same shape, not a bit flatter, he was disgusted and told me that all he got for his trouble was a bad cold and a dose of piles. ;-)
The poor fella, he’s so obedient to authority, I told him not to worry, who wants flat curves, anyway my take on the minister’s words was that you are supposed to sit on a sombrero to flatten the curve and not on your arse, leave that bit to the politicians they are experts at it.
A beautiful moon last night, we were taking up the garden tools to put them into the shed and I said to Phyllis
“Shall we pause and look at the moon darling?’
“We can look at the moon alright, but keep your paws to yerself”
Here’s a lady with plenty of curves, note the backside sticking out, you could put a tray on drinks on it.
https://i.postimg.cc/3RB7wYF8/92fbcb6a29b7a5239a49d03a529f132f.jpg
LOL…That S bend corset brought back a few memories for me :-D:-D:-D
The one thing I dreaded as a child was being dragged to the large department store that was ‘our go to’ for all our undies and things. It was a yearly torture and whilst my needs were quickly sorted out by some assistant quickly throwing the latest liberty bodice or the required flannel vests ect over my unwilling head and declaring “There that should do the trick and keep the the cold out”…it was various aunts etc purchases however which took hours. 
The bras, undies and slips were relatively simple as it was usually the same comfortable design they were used to but…the corset…now there was the purchase from hell.:shock:
It seemed that every stitch…every eyelet…every whalebone and steel placement had to be examined and discussed as to it’s merits and craftsmen ship before the trying on even started…and we wont go into the ooohs and aaahs the laces caused. Once that all had been been scrutinised…the lengthy and tedious trying on began. This I add was always accompanied by the most horrendous torturous sounds a child should hear…that or I really did have wimps for relatives…I never really found out but it was something to do with the tight lacing all neccessary for that good fit.
Seeing my horrified look someone always said “You wait till it’s your turn” to which I always thought " not in a million years" and thankfully by the time it was “my turn” there was no flab to squeeze behind pink satin and far less horrifying torture garments to hold your nylons up…although I did have many a fight refusing to wear those awful embarrassing bullet bras. I had my standards and didn’t want to point in the same direction as every other teen…nor did I want to poke aome unsuspected lads eye out. 
I’m glad you were spared the corset bit Solo.
That lady with the pyramids reminded me of a pair of stone gate pillars on a house up the road from our house, the top of them were that exact shape, the brother and me were only boys at the time and we always wondered why my dad referred to the house as “Lana’s Turners”, it took us a while to cop on to what he meant.
There was a program on BBC4 a few years ago all about the damage those corsets did to the women who wore them, all that trouble to look like an hour glass caused terrible things to their insides.:shock:
Just look at the waist on this poor woman, and that’s supposed to look attractive to men?
"Ethel Granger (1905-1982) “The smallest waist on earth”
Ethel Granger is known for being the women with the smallest waist on earth; 13 inches (33 cm). This according to the Guinness Book of records"
Oh dear… that Ethel having held her breath for so long probably farted in relief and flew off round the room when that waspy belt was removed. These poor souls that breathe in so as to look thin and the others that breathe out so that they look more muscular must enjoy pain. I have never believed in what the French say…il faut souffrir pour etre belle…one must suffer to be beautiful. (Please note I read that french bit somewhere in an article and thought ‘what a load of twaddle’.)
It is interesting what gets put on stone pillars and even arches and as anyone who has driven along the very long wall on the A31 will have seen the 5 legged stag on top of the arch belonging to the Charborough Park Estate.
The fact you are usually concentrating on driving with just the occasional dodgy glance upwards at the stag doesn’t give you much chance to count just how many legs that stag has so you are left with the option of returning to try and count them… frustrated at not being able to tick that landmark off your list or convinced it’s a Dorset tourist trick …and gawd help you if it’s a rainy day cos you haven’t got a cat in hells chance of counting anything let alone legs.
Well that stag does not have 5 legs despite all the rumours of the old Duke driving by who could only count 3 legs …just like the rest of us…so he had a fifth one added. Sadly wrong as it is simply a support to make sure that stag stays firmly put. Bit of a let down really but worth all the neck straining for the story alone.
Nice one about the Stag with 5 legs, makes a change from all the three legged horses I know, and back.
I ran out of port on Wednesday and didn’t bother getting more in, but the daughter brought me two packs of Guinness draught, and I managed to halve the amount of smokes I normally smoke, which works out at 6, I never smoke more than 12 a day, but to be honest that’s chiefly because I only have 2 weeks of tobacco left and my son will not be going on his regular trips to Italy for some time to come, it’s two thirds cheaper over there and he brings me back all he’s allowed to, when that’s gone I’ll have to pay top whack for it.
I’m still doing my hour of exercises every day and thank God I’m as fit as a fiddle, Phyllis is too, and she’s out into her garden for hours on end with this lovely weather. “Her” young Robins are learning to fly and they keep her amused, when one falls the dog goes over to where it fell and barks to let her know where it is, he would never harm any of them, then she puts them back on the hedge.
Far be it for me to preach to anyone, but I think exercise is most important, daily exercise has served me well now that I am older, no creaking joints nor groans when getting up from chairs or bending down, it’s up and off like a Harrier jet for me, well not quite as fast as that, but I don’t sort of do a Lazarus and resurrect meself up like some of my fellow tipplers in the local.;-)
I was just wondering how a policeman could arrest someone while keeping 6 feet away from them?
“I’m arresting you for murder, it’s my duty to shout you your rights, would you kindly put these handcuffs on yourself please" and he throws them over.
Criminals must think all their birthdays came together, courts shut down, prisoners being let out, nearly all premises empty just waiting to be broken into, and what have you, there’ll be the devil to pay when this is all over.
I think the CCTV cameras did away with all the old watchmen, but it’s so easy for those in the know to disable all the cameras, as they say, if someone is determined to get in they won’t be stopped.
Well the minister says we’ll be locked down/up/in/out or whatever until at lest the 5th of May, so we’ll just have to carry on regardless.
The world has been rather turned on it’s head so’s to speak and many odd things are taking place…however…so much money that is being spent on trying to support every aspect of this sorry situation plus folk self distancing and being shielded to protect the NHS
You and I may behave sensibly but I can assure you that the idiots who come down here for a bit of sun and fun behave just like that …idiots. I’d like a penny for every drunken fool that has jumped off the pier when the tide is out…and someone has to repair that damage…idiots don’t care about anyone till the damage has been done. Let the police have all the power to deal with this because they need it…respect for them has not worked in a lomg time…
Talking of exercise…in a kind of way… I spent a very pleasurable morning sorting through and playing my old records …or should that be ‘vintage’ collection of my records many of which I have carted all over the world along with whatever player I had at the time.
There was something about those singles eps and lps that stuck in your mind and recalled so many good times, places and those whom you used to dance with. Placing those records on…just holding the sides of course… watching them drop one by one… then the crackling sound before the first well known beat kicks in…all so very magical still.
Ok so my records have taken quite a beating over the years and are somewhat scratched… but there again so am I… par for the course of life be it vinyl or human.
As I sat listening and reminiscing I marvelled at the exhuberance of youth that allowed us to dance hour after hour the way we did…and still want more when it was time to close the dance hall doors…and then I laugh at the thought of even attempting a quarter of that now…no I’m kidding myself there…shall we be honest and say one dance. Reality is another lesson age teaches you.:-D:-D:-D
Yes we seemed to be able to dance forever when we were young, and so many new dances coming out almost every week, the twist, the clam, mashed potato, etc.
I was dancing with a tall girl in the Casino Hall one night and she kept flicking her right hand to the floor while jumping up and down, I said I didn’t know this dance, is it a new one?
"No, it’s just something I had in nose and I’ve been trying to flick it off my finger all night”
I found a good site for old murder mysteries from the 30’s and 40’s on youtube, great if you like that stuff and I do, the pre plastic era, for anyone who’s interested it’s called “Hastings mystery Theater” Theatre with the American spelling.
Anyway in a film I watched on the site last night I spotted a brass fender almost identical to one I had acquired from an old lady in Blackrock, it brought back to me the day I first spotted it at the side of her house.
I can’t drive so my sister drove me out to deliver an antique emerald bracelet the lady had left with me for major repair work, this would be 1998 or thereabouts, when we conducted our business and I was on me way out I noticed the 19th century brass fender at the side of her house and asked her why such a beautiful thing was left outside at the mercy of the elements, she said she was throwing it out and it was there for anyone who wanted it, well I said I would love to have it and seeing that the sister had the car we could take it there and then, so that was it.
The fender was black and grimy and in need of a good cleaning but I had all the gear to do a good job on it and it was just the right size for my fireplace, when finished it would shine like the Bailey Lighthouse and be a lovely surprise for the wife, so I said nothing to her and left it in the shed till I was ready to work on it.
I was very busy in work all that month so had no time to work on the fender, then about six weeks on I had the time so I went out to the shed to go to work on the old fender.
Well I don’t think I have to tell you what happened cos you’ll have guessed correctly that she gave it to a junk man who was going around the houses looking for scrap metal. :shock:
All I can say is that we came very close to having our first quarrel when she told me about it. ;-)
That night I went up to bed and cried meself to sleep.
This is the nearest I could find to what it looked like, or should I say what it would have looked like before fate interfered, but why worry about fate interfering when you have a wife.;-)
LOL Jem Thats not a dance I would have forgotten either…but at least it was her nose she picked and not yours
I can’t remember going into a house that did not have one of those brass fenders…it was all part of the hearth and somewhere to put your feet nearer the fire. Seen many a stockined foot and ankle kicking argument start over that and the only thing you knew that if you lost you were saved from your chilblains itching from the heat…so although you may have had cold toes you had your revenge in a sort of way
Reading about a French chap who was recently given a flight in a fighter jet as a retirement present. Although he would rather have not taken the flight…he did…and all went OK apart from his sky rocketing BP until the fighter did a climb scaring the living daylights out of the poor chap who panicked and grabbed hold of an handle…and by this time I can hardly read the print from laughing and sensing what is coming next.
With a bang…a very loud bang our chap is ejected tout suite…as the french say. Shaken and definitely very stirred our retiree eventually lands…and as they say in all these incidents …heads will now roll…and lessons will be learned :-D:-D:-D
God forgive me, but I can’t help laughing at that poor pensioner in the ejector seat, I’d love to see the face on him when he realised he was slung out of the plane, that ad springs to mind “What kind of cheese was that”
I was surprised to hear there is no centenary bonus for UK citizens Solo, what a shame, to give them their fair dues here they have always looked after their old folks, all old age pensioners get a double week as a Christmas bonus, and they have extended the fuel allowance for another month on account of folks having to stay at home during the corona thing. We have free travel on all busses and trains, we also automatically receive a free TV license when we reach 65.
We used to have a “Hop” in the church hall every Saturday night, a hop as you know was when they played all the latest popular records.
All the girls would be on one side of the hall and the lads at the opposite side, when the music started it was always the girls who were first to get up to dance with each other, it took a long time for any of the boys to get up the courage to ask a girl to dance, fear of refusal was the main factor here, so one way to overcome that was to ask one of your mates to go across the floor with you and “Split a pair”, this would automatically halve the embarrassment if refused.
The real good looking girls were off limits to the likes of me and my mates so one had to sort of weigh up ones chances with the ‘medium’ looking girls if you get me. It’s laughable now but when you’re at that vulnerable age it’s a right kick in the teeth to be refused, destroys the fragile bit of confidence it took to ask in the first place.
One trick I learned from an older mate was when dancing with a girl and you wanted to ask her out on a date was to use the sure fire cover your back method, it went like this.
Boy: “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”
Girl, with a stern face on her: “Yes I am”
Boy: “Well don’t forget to pull the chain after yeh”
This was the very first record I bought as a youth, 4/6 it cost then, a big chunk out of the 2 quid I earned as an apprentice.
Well solo “Home is where the Hearth IS”.:-)
spitty…There was no doubt that a real fire and hearth made a home welcoming and If you were lucky enough to have an oven attached no cooking today filled a room the way food cooked in it did…be it bread or a good stew. Toasting bread on a long fork… chucking chestnuts or potatoes on the coals all made for times now long gone…along with the tea leaves used to dampen down the fire at night…but the memory smells linger on.
Jem… Us pensioners here get a £10 xmas box (if you qualify…a winter fuel allowance and the so called free bus pass… Free TV is on hold at present till the Beeb decide which talentless celeb they want to employ with a huge payout so they will tell us they can no longer afford to give free TV to us oldies.
Any freebies we get is begrudged by those who feel the money would be better going to non working layabouts and unmarried mothers. Most pensioners exist on the Government pension and have learnt to adapt to that knowing that you got bugger all in the past and are grateful for todays generosity. Nuff sed.
All teens must have had the same insecurities we had regardless of the age we lived in. “Does this hose make my leg look good…is my crinoline on straight…Is my wimple crooked…Does this ruff make my face look fat…does this bustle make my bum look big”, I think it’s part and parcel of what youth is all about…accepting what you are and what you are not and how others percieve you can be painful but once you have got your bearings in life by gawd does your confidence grow…though I still mentally shrink a bit at the way I did treat some of the wanna be beaus that came my way.
Apache was my first Shadows record…sheer guitar brilliance…and at the time we also never realised Bruce would never be able to master even simple dance steps :-D:-D
Now you would not think a bucket would be useful in this virus age we are in but a quick thinking daughter whose Mum lives in an upstairs flat delivers her goodies in a bucket. How good is that. A rope, Mums muscles…job done. Certainly beats chucking a spud up and inadvertantly knocking a neighbour you by mistake. (mind you Mum may end up looking like a power lifter by the time this is over) :shock:
story here
My dear old man was in charge of everything combustible, he used paper and other stuff to get the thing going, spose you could say, the Fossil Fueled the Fire.
I used to dread being asked to hold a newspaper to the fire to get it to draw…I usually ended up nearly setting the living room on fire. Gawd we did live dangerously in those days :-D:-D:-D