Thanks for that info Pug, you are obviously a well read man as they used to say, wonder what they’ll say about this generation in years to come “He is a well googled man”, nah, hasn’t got the same ring to it, although I have to admit I’ve been well googled myself more than once and paid dearly for it the next morning.
Something on the musical side again. I have just written an email to the agony Aunt on my local forum, here’s the full text of it
“Dear Aunt the net, when I fist joined the boy scouts I wanted to be in the band so I saved up and bought meself a tin whistle, or a “Flagellate” as the scout master made me call it, 3/6 it cost me, anyway I couldn’t get the hang of it and so as not to disappoint me he let me play the triangle instead, I couldn’t figure out the right times to come in with the jangles and I was kicked out of the band, I was very sad, you see I am one of those people who love music but haven’t a note in their head, if you know what I mean, I’m not shy and will get up to ’sing’ a song in pub sing songs or a party, I know all the words of the songs but when I try to hit the high notes they always come out as a sound equivalent to a fully conscious Tom cat being castrated with a rusty blunt nail, folks are very kind and wait it out patiently with a queer type of frozen smile on their faces. Do you think, because of my love for music, especially those with high notes, Unchained Melody being my party piece, I should continue to torment good innocent people or just pack it in and listen in silence?”
Signed. A great singer trapped inside a bad voice.
I’m not a big fighting fan but I have to say I’m very proud of my 16 year old grandson Liam winning his first fight in public, and all for a charity Hospice, the chap he defeated is 24 years old and much more experienced, that’s Liam on the left, well done Liamo. http://i736.photobucket.com/albums/xx4/jemflux/Liam%203.jpg
Ahh,Jem,it’s a musical genius trapped inside a jem-cutter’s body,so you are.
Indeed,didn’t my own great-uncle Darwin [twice removed] sail to Jamaica just to join a reggae band. It was his passion,though he too hadn’t a note in him. The only instrument he could [sometimes] play in time or in tune,was also the triangle! However,the Jamaicans took great liking…and pity…for great uncle Darwin,so when the reggae band played,they gave him a triangle,[not the electric version,due to the amperage differences]…and great uncle Darwin,why him just stand at de back and ting…
I love the old Calypso music. Harry Belafonte and his Jamaica Farewell, the coconut woman, and the banana boat song, where I first heard of the Taliban, “Come mister Taliban carry me banana, daylight come and me wanna go home”
This was one of my favourites when sung by Belafonte.
“If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you
A pretty woman makes her husband look small
And very often causes his downfall
As soon as he married her and then she starts
To do the things that will break his heart
But if you make an ugly woman your wife
A-you’ll be happy for the rest of your life
An ug-a-ly woman cooks meals on time
And she’ll always give you peace of mind
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you”
I’ve just got back from my buddy’s place. His fiance’ is,without doubt,‘buxom’. Curves in ALL the right places,lovely smile,sweet nature…but STONE THE CROWS,that woman can talk! I call her ‘Gatling Gun’,because her words FIGHT each other to fall out of her constantly moving trumpet!!! “yaddayaddayaddayaddayadda-yadda!” Oh,wow…
I have to say-gaffa tape would REALLY improve that woman’s ‘beauty’.
I have never,in all my time on this planet,ever before met a person who is genuinely unable to stfu,gabbles incoherently in shorthand-[even though the conversation didn’t include/wasn’t about/had sfa to do with,her]-and who is totally unintelligible anyway but just can not stop speed-yakking!
Pug, I think some women would would just shrivel up if they lost the gift of speech, my own wife included.
You may have a point there Spitty. I was strolling over to the pub today at lunchtime with a big happy smile on me face, the sun was shining and I was feeling gay, a female neighbour walked out of the butchers shop beside the pub and says to me “What the hell has you so happy today Jem?” Christ you just can’t win can yeh, I never thought I’d have to give a reason for being happy, I mean there’s enough misery about, all I’m trying to do is me little bit to counter balance the gloom.
Are yeh kidding me Pug?, one is enough for any sane man to contend with. You know that old saying “In Spring a young mans thoughts turn to love” well in Spring this old mans thoughts turn to the Cheltenham Races and the Grand National, lazy days lying on the sun chair in the garden with plenty of liquid refreshment, followed by the Derby in June, sheer bliss for me.
I’m sitting out in the little sun cabin now smoking me brains out and having a cool Guinness, the racing is on the TV out here, the PC is plugged in and the sun is shining, theres nobody to annoy me, what more could a man ask for? love? whats that? nothing but trouble.
I am able to handle my fair share of shite Spitty, indeed I have had to many a time, and it does come from every direction when you least expect it whether you be right or wrong, best to be always on your guard and carry a few spare Jacks rolls in you backpack/car/saddlebag.
In the meantime here’s a few tips from Mars Barr to help one unblock, so to speak.
Always use the finest toilet roll whatever you do
Or you could end up blocking the loo
Be careful with the plunger and don’t make a boob
You could end up with a fractured U-tube
Unscrew the bolt at the back of the bowl
And poke in all out with a wooden dowel
Take it easy and don’t make a din
Use an big bucket or an old plastic bin
Be careful you don’t let it overflow
Cos over you nice shoes it will all go.
When it’s done you’ll feel dirty and shoddy
So take all the clothes offa your body
A little TCP in the shower gel
Kills the bugs as well as the smell
Now it’s clear and shiny, every little bit
Until it’s blocked again by another great shit.
But let’s get it straight about this issue
We should not always blame it on the toilet tissue
The wife is clever, no excuse will escape her
She always blames it on the toilet paper.
And ai thenk yoh too.
The good Lady Philomena does not trust Plumbers Pug, she don’t like anyone messin with her pipes and tubes, anyone but me that is, besides Plumbers drive her round the bend always trying to cut corners they are.
Her brother was a Plumber and I remember one year we all went to the Plumbers ball in the Mansion House here (Where the Lord Mayor of Dublin resides), such a swell affair it was too, there was truffles and champagne, caviar and oysters, and a full 28 piece orchestra, Lady Philomena danced with the Lord Mayor himself, he used to be a Plumber before he went into politics. Half way through the night I was extremely pissed off hearing about baths, sinks, ballcocks, and pipes so I went out to the jacks and was pleased to see someone had dislodged a pipe at the urinal, the water was everywhere and I came out and yelled “Leak!” About 40 Plumbers in full dress suits rushed in to fix it, talk about too many cooks spoiling the broth, they were on top of one another, great fun that was.
Now,THERE’s a proper coincidence,Jem! Because my first foray into the world of carnal delight,was at the age of thirteen,with my very good friend Philomena,in a barn filled with straw bales. I’ve tootled & pootled all around this world,but I’ve never ever met another Philomena,and I haven’t seen ‘my’ Philomena since those days-then you pop one with one of yer own!. The net just keeps on surprising…
So you fell a Philomena as a young lad Pug, good for you, my Phyllis is great most of the time but she’s tough, when she gets bossy I call her Phyllis stein, Sister of Frankenstein.
Yes,I certainly did Jem. I fell a LOT further than I realised…because sat here now,50+ years later,I can recall with pinpoint pico-accuracy,her smile,her long wavy hair,her giggle…and her red-‘n’-white checked undies. Plus her cuddles…ohhh,her man-trapping cuddles. [I WAS 13!!! {so was she}]
I’ve thought of Philomena more times than I’ve taken a breat,though I’ve never felt the need to find her.
To my last day,I’ll love her in a way only I can understand. I don’t need to ever see her again,I won’t join Farcebook or Tinder [that’s a cert!] hoping to find her. I’m not on-and I’m staying off-those bloody awful dating sites…but Philomena,awww,I can recall her SO well-and always smile when I do.
AWAY wit’ you Oirish and yer Feinian ways of trappinginginging a fella’s soul!
Strangely enough folks nearly all the old lads that I have a pint with have a deep affection for some girl from their early youth, they all have a tale to tell about the one that got away. Women on the other hand seem to be able to dismiss boys from their early past, tougher hearts I suppose, most men are sentimental old softies underneath it all.
Pug, I think some women would would just shrivel up if they lost the gift of speech, my own wife included.
indeed I have had to many a time, and it does come from every direction when you least expect it whether you be right or wrong, best to be always on your guard and carry a few spare Jacks rolls in you backpack/car/saddlebag.
