Not sure if the Cambridge Diet, or Cambridge Analytica is required here.
What makes a Good Guy, probably takes “Stacks” of information.
I have watched a couple of Fred Dibnah’s programmes about buildings but didn’t really enjoy them. I much preferred his steeple-jacking and rebuilding road-going steam engine programmes.
I actually saw him a few months before he died. He was doing a programme where he toured various facilities that specialised in restoring and maintaining traction engines etcetera. One of these places was about 100m from where we were staying in a holiday cottage near Matlock, Derbyshire.
I was out with our dog when I heard a steam whistle, and then saw smoke at the bottom of the hill. Eventually a traction engine with covered wagon appeared, chugging effortlessly up the hill. When it grew close I realised it was Fred himself on the footplate and driven (I think) by one of his sons who was wearing a top hat.
Fred gave a wave and cheery smile as he steamed past before turning into the repair yard.
Its sad Fruitcake, that folks can’t be repaired in a yard.
Killer lyrics, they are everywhere.
Oh I have no need of a chart or creed
You told your waiting crew
For the winds of chance, they will bear us straight
And you spoke as though you knew.
So you paid no mind to the warning signs
As you gave your words so free
Don’t change your tack when the timbers crack
On the dark and and the rolling sea.
Thanks for that bit of info on Fred Fruity.
Nice to hear from you again.
My maternal grandfather was a steeplejack before he joined the BA during the first world war, he was gassed in a trench and sent home, he died in the military hospital here from breathing complications three years later, I never met him as I wasn’t born until 1945 so I know little about him only what my Mother told me. I’m currently trying to get any information I can and have contacted the eldest cousin in Canada to see if she can tell me anything, I’m not very hopeful though, she’s 88 and a bit senile.
I saw this somewhere else and had to laugh, just thought I’d pass it on.
“There appears to be some discord between Donald Trump’s lawyers.”
https://i.postimg.cc/WbyHhBQc/Elaborate-Ajar-Koala-size-restricted.gif
I always wondered how Moe did that little poke in the eye trick without causing an injury to someone, if you watch closely you’ll see he sends his extended right index finger to the left of Curly’s head and his folded thumb tips his nose, that’s Curly’s cue to squint and put his hand to his face, he is never really near the eyes at all, just quickness of the hand.
If you open the gif in ‘preview’ on a mac you will see it frame by frame, watch frame 68, I don’t know what the equivalent to preview is on other computers but I’m sure you have a way to do this.
Great how you can find out these things with a computer innit, I’m quite pleased with meself after that discovery 
For the men only.
A lady I know works in a well known chemist shop in town, I did a repair job on her old engagement ring recently and didn’t charge her as she’s an old friend of the wife, anyway she bought me a set of expensive ‘smelly stuffs’ for men, you know the type, aftershave, shaving cream, deodorant and that.
It was a brand I never heard of before so I was surprised and puzzled to find this little bottle of “Crop Preserver Ball deodorant” contained in the set —I kid you not.
“Crop Preserver”!!!, what crop is one supposed to reap come harvest time? (please don’t say those nippy little sea creatures) ;-)
https://i.postimg.cc/FzdqwjTd/crop-preserver.png
At first I thought it was the plastic ball roll on thing they have on some deodorants at the top of the bottle
So in all my innocence I looked it up and here’s what I got.
“HOW TO USE:
“You wouldn’t leave the house without putting deodorant on your pits, so do the same for your nuts. Keep them smelling good with Crop Preserver and be ready for anything life throws your way: a hot date, a promotion, or a pick-up game of basketball. Use Crop Preserver as part of your regular grooming routine, and daily after showering on non-grooming days for the preservation against sweat and funk.”
Who writes this sales junk anyway? “
“A hot date”? at my age? the only hot date I have is with the devil himself, very hot indeed I believe.
“A promotion”? what has ball deodorant got to do with promotion?, now call me daft, but if there was a higher opening where I was working and I was being interviewed by the boss, and he started to sniff trying to catch a whiff of me perfumed nuts like a common street mongrel sniffing another dog, I wouldn’t be long about telling him where to stuff his promotion.
Honestly now, isn’t that carrying the deodorant thing a bit too far? For God’s sake they’ll be coming out with a special deodorant for your ears and knees next, I’m inclined to think the more deodorant you need the smellier you must be. :shock:
God be with the days when a good scrubbing with a brick of Sunlight soap had you shining like a new pin, and even if your skin was as red as a Kipper after it, you were spotlessly clean for “anything life throws your way”
I ask meself why does anyone need a special deodorant for downstairs, what’s wrong with spraying the normal body stuff down there?, skin is skin no matter where it is?
Is nothing sacred any more, not even one’s precious own nuts?
As for misleading advertising, don’t let me go there, you know what I think about that, advertising is the same as war, the first thing to go is the truth, anyway if folks are silly enough to fall for it then they deserve it.;-)
That reminds me of a spoof deodorant advert tag-line from my teen years.
Max Factor knacker-laquer.
Adds lustre to your cluster.
It also reminds me of the Mel Smith/Rowan Atkinson TV sketch set in a Scandawegian shop.
Can I help you?
Yes, I would like to buy some deodorant.
What sort sir, ball or aerosol.
Neither, I want it for my armpits.
Good one Fruity.
What ever happened to the red carbolic soap?, probably banned like a lot of other stuff.
We were very polite in our house, the word ‘bolic’ was never to be uttered, so my Dad used to call it Cartesticle soap, it was great stuff, as they used to say here “Sure t’would take paint off doors”.
There’s no pleasing some people, especially when they’re getting on in years.
The chap across the road knocked into me today looking for the loan of a saw to cut a few overlapping branches off his tree, he said his next-door neighbour was giving him hassle about it.
I got out a good hand saw I had in the shed, he looked at it, waved his head in refusal and said.
“Ah no Jem, that’s not what I was wanting, have you not got an electric one?, me poor arms would be knackered trying to cut branches with that, then there’s me bad back to consider”
“Do you mean a chain saw Harry? because that’s all I have.” says I.
“Jesus no!, do yeh want me to do an injury to meself, them bloody things would slice you in half with the least little slip”
“Well I’m sorry Harry auld son, but that’s all I’ve got”
He went away empty handed with a puss on him like a grieving gorilla.
The old devil has a habit of not returning stuff you lend him, I always give him plenty of time to use the tools, but in the end I always have to ask him for them back “Ah it slipped me mind Jem”, he never says he’s sorry, he’s one of those idiots who thinks it’s a sign of weakness, that’s Harry for yeh, the last of the hardchaws.
I know him most of my life, we were at school together, he was a fairly happy little chap back then, but prone to fits of bad temper, but they were short lived back then.
As soon as he hit 70 he changed completely, he’s 74 now and a grumpier old shite you couldn’t meet in a days walk, I have never seen him smile since he hit pensionable age.
If you give him sympathy for his age he resents it, and if you don’t he resents it even more, how his poor missus puts up with him I’ll never know.
Why can’t folks just accept they can no longer be as fit and young as they used to be? that’s life, if you don’t want to grow old gracefully you might as well creep into a corner and die, then at least your loved ones wouldn’t have to listen to your perpetual moaning, but then again Harry has no consideration for others at all.
He nearly died at 50 when he was knocked off his bike by a lorry on the Naas Road, I remember well the time I went to visit him in hospital when he was recovering, i brought him a packet of of his favourite gingernut biscuits and two bottles of stout, he looked at one bottle and said.
“Ah Jem, you know I prefer lager”
Not a word of thanks, just a moan.
I felt like smashing the bottle over his ginger head.
Wouldn’t you think that after a serious accident like that he’d be grateful to be alive today, some people, honestly.
My wife can’t stand the sight of him, she seen him on the door monitor and wouldn’t open the door when he knocked, she came out to the shed to fetch me— the sucker, “Yer old mate is at the door Jem, you can deal with him”.
Wise woman.
We have four next door neighbours by here and they are all good eggs, but it was not always so.
There was a family of four in the semi attached to my house when I bought the place and they were great, but sadly the father died of a sudden and unexpected heart attack a few months after I got engaged to my Lovely Cousin.
The mother died a few years later of cancer. The lad had just turned eighteen so he took on guardianship of his younger sister until she eventually left and started a family of her own.
The “lad” is now in his fifties and married, but they never had kids.
They are great and always willing to lend a helping hand if needed.
One of the neighbours at the back was a grumpy old git. When I built my gazebo he said, “So I’m going to have to look at that monstrosity every day am I?”
I said, “well I like it,” and ignored him from then onwards."
A lovely old widower lives there now. I don’t see him very often, but when I do he is always up for a natter.
An old lady lived in the other bung at the back when I first moved in. I didn’t see her very often but she was always pleasant.
When she moved on, a lovely old couple moved in and our eldest who was about three at the time absolutely adored them. I occasionally helped the old gentleman with his garden, and he once loaned me an old motor mower when mine packed up.
First the old lady died, then a couple of years later the old chap died as well.
I tell you, living next door to me will seriously reduce your life expectancy.
Another couple about my age live there and we get on really well.
My first neighbour on the other side to the family was a one of those people that liked to complain about everything. He had a go at me when I was spraying my fence with preserver saying it was getting on his wife’s washing and was a hazard to his kids.
His house was actually the first one round the corner in the next street, but it didn’t stop him complaining.
The couple that live there now are nodding acquaintances, but whenever I see the chap, he always asks after our eldest who he used to work with about eighteen years ago.
A nice post Fruity, I enjoyed reading it.
It’s always a blessing to have good neighbours, I’m lucky enough to have great neighbours, but there’s always the odd one or two who spoil it, nasty grumps annoy me, ah well, you can’t have it every way.
I remember you telling us about the lovely cousin you married, I had an Uncle who married his first cousin many years ago, they were always in good form and very happy all through their long lives, and I wish you and your good lady the same.
When I was fourteen I was madly in love with a first cousin who lived on the next street, but she moved away to join her older sister in Canada, I was like a love sick puppy for a while, but soon got over it.
I love wacky inventions.
In the time before tipped cigarettes became popular I invented an asbestos lip shield so one could smoke their fag to the bitter end, no good now, besides they banned asbestos altogether.
Right now I’m trying to figure out how I can have a smoke while walking down the street with a mask on, i have to walk into town tomorrow on a bit of business, I won’t get on a bus with this bug doing the rounds so all suggestions will be welcomed no matter how weird they are, bloody mask makers, they have absolutely no consideration for the smoking man in the street.
Now here’s an idea, some of you may remember an early anti smoking ad featuring J.R. Ewing from the TV series “Dallas” sitting at a table having a meal, and when his date lights up a cigarette he takes out a little mini fan to direct the smoke away from him, how about a little fan on the front of a mask to fan away the virus?
It would act like a propeller cutting a safe path through the air for you, it could also blow out hot air, and as hot air rises so too does the air containing the bug.
No problem with folks sitting in pubs either, providing the publicans were willing to remove the roof.
Some will remember this from 1954, it was very popular in pubs back then, nearly as popular as “Roll out the Barrel”. Every Saturday night my older brother and me would watch through the window for our uncle to come up the road singing it with his mates, folks seemed to be happier those days, or was it just because I was a happy little boy.
Wakey- wakaaaay!, it’s the Billy Cotton Band Show!
Ah yes, I remember listening to the BC Band Show on the radio from an early age.
Some of the other programmes Dad would put on at the weekend were, The World at One with William Hardcastle, Does the Team Think (not sure it that was it’s actual name), The Navy Lark, The Ken Dodd Show, and You’re Only Old Once.
When I was in my teens I started to listen to The Goon Show and I’m Sorry I’ll Read That Again. The latter was the basis for The Goodies when it was translated to TV.
A fan to keep smoke away from your face? Well they’ve been around for decades. A lot of medics are currently using masks with a self contained air supply that discharges air downwards over the wearer’s face to keep germs away.
I remember a similar idea in the late sixties/early seventies being shown on Oop North TV when I lived amongst the coal fields. The programme showed a miner wearing one that kept the face clear whilst working underground, and greatly reduced the amount of coal the average miner would eat and inhale.
I went down one of the local mines when I was a teenager on a school trip. That’s an experience I will never forget.
When I left school I applied for lots of jobs and college/polytechnic courses. I was accepted by one college sponsored by the National Coal Board. When I told my parents the industrial training involved six months dahn’t pit every year, they thankfully talked me out of it.
I later managed to get accepted at a West Country college that came with an apprenticeship at a prestigious engineering company. The company put food on my table and a roof over my head for the next forty three years, but the coal industry collapsed in relatively short order.
I’m glad I took my parent’s advice.
I had three cousins from my Uncle’s first marriage, a boy and two girls. They went to live with their mum after the marriage broke up so I didn’t see them very much after that.
Sadly we lost the middle girl to cancer when she was forty.
When my Uncle remarried and then adopted his new wife’s two daughters I acquired two more cousins, and the three of us just hit it off, quickly becoming friends.
The younger girl had an inexplicable crush on me, although I didn’t realise it at the time. I always was a bit slow on the uptake. Then six years later my beautiful cousin of seventeen summers asked me if I wanted to “go serious” with her, and the rest is history.
We’ve been happily married for over thirty seven years and never had a cross word.
My Uncle and Aunt now live with us, and the house is always full of laughter.
What a great and successful family relationship Fruity, I’m sure the craic is great there.
You can tell when someone is contented by how they post.
My eldest grandson (21) is studying engineering at Trinity College here, it’s his third year.
Very interesting about the mask stuff too.
Oh I forgot to mention that the asbestos lip shield could double as a burn protector when kissing hot women, Elvis sang about hot love, there was a line in one of his songs that went “I’m just a Hunk-A-Hulk-A-Burning Love,” God rest him, now he’s just a hunka-hunka old bones.
Unfortunately there were none of dem hot women around when I was was single, well not in my area anyway.
Where did all the Messrs go?
“Messrs is used before the names of two or more men as part of the name of a business.” (Colins)
Back in the 60’s when I’d be sitting upstairs on the bus going to work I would pass many factories and big shops, they had signs above them. Messrs Ryan & McQuire, Messrs Gillbey Wine Merchants, Messrs Talbot Tobacconists, etc., oh I missed an important one, there was an office in O’Connell Street representing a German aircraft manufacturer called “Messrs Smith”.;-)
Alas they are all gone, no more Messrs.
I’m guessing it’s because of some equality act or other that they had to stop the messrs, the title, if that’s what it is, disappeared around the same time that Kenneth Williams died, remember his famous words “Stop messin’ about”, well he got his wish.
.
“I’m NOT arguing, I’m simply explaining why I’m right”
I saw that on a tee-shirt yesterday, reminded of the political section here.
Ya don’t mess with Shakin Stephens ‘cos your messin with dynamite, a cheery little video when your feeling down in the dumps.
The family dynamic has always been good and my Uncle is a good egg. He has known me since I was a babe in arms and apparently he cycled the fifty odd miles from Somerset to Swindon to see R Mar and me not long after I was born.
I have happy memories of him taking my brother and me to the flicks when we he visited to see such classics as The Dam Busters and The Swiss Family Robinson.
I am very rude to my (second) Aunty, and she loves it. She will mock complain to people how rude I am and I just say, “You are my Mother-in-Law; being rude to you is in the job description.” 
I think meeting and getting to know her and her two girls for eight years before I married the youngest is one of the reasons we all get on so well.
I believe TC Dublin has a very good reputation. I hope your grandson does well. The world needs more enginerds.
Is he interested in any particular branch of engineering?
I’ve been through your fair city twice on route to other parts of the Emerald Isle, and had a day out there once. We of course did the Guinness brewery as well as a fair bit of sight-seeing.
The only thing that spoiled it was the liquid sunshine.
On our first visit to the country we stayed at Powerscourt Hotel in Co Wicklow having got a weekend birthday special deal on two rooms because my Lovely Cousin and I share the same birthday.
We liked the people and the countryside so much that we did a grand tour taking in the whole of the UK and the Republic over a four week period a few years later.
England to Wales to Co Wexford via the Holyhead to Dublin ferry, to Co Kerry to Co Roscommon, then across the border in to Co Antrim, then to Scotland via the Larne to Cairnryan ferry, then back to England and then home, staying for about five days in each county on the island.
I thought the Wild Atlantic Way on the West Coast was one of the most beautiful and spectacular places I have ever been. I was particular pleased to find that unlike over here, there were many places along the way to stop the car and enjoy the view without having to pay for parking.
Oh yes, I remember the Messrs. I wonder if it changed over here due to the introduction of Ltd and PLC legislation or something similar. Alternatively it could just be a change in fashionable trends.
I like Shakey, This Old House being one of my favourites of his.
Talk of being rude in a friendly manner to relatives.
My brothers two kids, Denise and Anthony, well not kids anymore, they are in their 30’s now, were over last Sunday talking to us from the front gate,
Denise is de spitting image of de nephew.
Every time I used to see Denise on her own I would joking say “Hello Denise, how’s de nephew?” She used to get annoyed so I was ordered to lay off by de missus.
I’m not sure what the exact nature of the grandsons studies are Fruity, I think it’s civil engineering but I never bother him about it, all I know is that it’s hard graft and he studies very hard at it, hasn’t a moment to himself these days, he has a few exams behind him now and I believe he’s determined to go on for a masters degree, if I’m around in a few years time I’ll keep you posted on his progress.
What a big tour of the two islands that was, I’m pleased to hear you enjoyed your trip.
Watched the old western “ The life and Times of Judge Roy Bean” (1972) last night and enjoyed it again.
The sequence below is my favourite part of the whole film, and sure enough I was able to find it on youtube.
Stacy Keach has only a short appearance in the film but is brilliant as the albino “Bad Bob”, when I saw this film first I was amazed at how they were able to do the hole in the stomach bit, a great special effect which I didn’t see used again until 20 years later in the film “Death becomes her” (1992) with Goldie Hawn.
We all know that the judge was nuts about the actress Lily Langtry and when Bad Bob ‘calls out’ Beanie to draw, he entices him by calling Lily a whore with a face like a Pig, or words to that effect, he’s really asking for it and he gets it, end of Bad Bob.
Now if there’s one thing that will get any red blooded male going it is saying his girlfriend/wife/sister has a face like a Pig, a red flag to a bull.
On the other hand if one female said to another that her boyfriend/husband/brother had a face like a Pig, not a hair would be turned, the female it’s aimed at would probably smile and say “Oh I know that dearie, and I just adore Pigs” defused and the tension would fade away.
I actually know one lady who has a collection if over 200 porcelain Pigs in a tall glass showcase that stands in her hallway, very proud of them she is too. I remarked to her that I have the job of cleaning out the horse manure from under the TV when the racing is finished, and that she must have a tough job cleaning up after her Pigs everyday.
Yes sometimes men and women are Worlds apart, women will use their witty tongues before they engage in violence, and a very wise move that is, sooner a war of words than a violent conflict.
I think youtube is terrific for images of every description, you can find clips from “Hair” the musical, snaps from “Jaws”, stills from “Whisky Galore”, and gifs from “Santa Clause”.
Bad Bob could have done with my asbestos lip shield when he drank the scalding coffee straight from the pot.
One of Bertie Wooster’s Aunts, she who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth has nothing on Big Bad Bob.
I used to regularly work with a chap from another department on away jobs and would spend a lot of time in his work area whilst we were preparing the job.
There was another engineer there called Denise. Because she used to wear short skirts she was known as Denise and Dethighs.
That sort of thing probably wouldn’t be allowed these days.
Nearly everyone at work had a nickname. There was one really pleasant mild mannered chap who was given the name Vicious.
We also had Horse, The Bat, The Rat, The Hen, The Velcro Twins (you never saw one of them working alone) Alec(trician), and loads more.
I don’t miss the work even though it was interesting, varied, and well paid. I do miss the insults and banter though. It was the fuel that kept the department running.
I too miss the slagging that went on in the bigger workshops, we had a huge chap who sat on a stool all day polishing jewellery, he must have weighed 20 stone and everyone called him ‘Tiny’, he didn’t mind in the least.
Another wee girl in the office who hadn’t a pick on her was known as ‘Mama Cass’
Nicknames have been around for ever it seems, Ivan the terrible and Walter the penniless spring to my mind, actually I remember reading that Walter was far from penniless, a very wealthy chap by all accounts.
I had plenty of spots as a teenager so they called me The Leopard, fortunately this Leopard changed his spots when he hit his twenties, they disappeared altogether.
From then on in the local they referred to me as Goldfinger because I used to fix all their wives gold jewellery at mates rates, then there was the popular James Bond film of that time.
Dubliners, like Londoners, were forever hanging tags on people, places and civic sculptures, the statue of Mollie Malone became the Tart with the Cart, Anna Livia was The Whore in the Sewer, James Joyce’s statue was The P…k with the stick, and so on.
There was the story of a rookie tourist coach driver taking a bus load of Americans around Dublin City, he pointed out the statues he knew of, but when he got to St. Stephen’s Green there was a statue just inside the main gate, he hadn’t a clue who it was, so hoping no one would ask he just said.
“ladies and Gentlemen, this is the famous St. Stephen’s Green where many of the rebels held out during the 1916 rising”
One curious lady in the party spotted the statue and asked.
“Gee driver, who’s that guy inside the gate?”
“Ah sure that’s no other than Stephen Green himself ma’am”
[url=https://postimages.org/]
Anna Livia.
I had to look up Anna Livia, and discovered Dubliners called her The Floozie in the Jacuzzi.
That’s very true Fruity, but only in the posh Dublin 4 area, to the rest of us Dublin peasants she’s The Whore in the Sewer. 