An Unforeseen Development?


Helen Bristol [Continued from A Day Of In-Foamy]

02 February 2003 14:04

I knew I could rely on her. Though probably in your condition minestrone is probably not a GOOD IDEA.
 
I like the idea of the giant squid, Dubbya and Phoney Blair, but can we wait until you manage to locate the squid?  You know that seagulls will eat anything...... But wait - our leaders may not be perfect but all the others are so much worse - though in their "special relationship" its hard to think who

Vile Jelly

03 February 2003 11:50

Personally, I don't think minestrone is a good idea in any condition, but that's just my tastes. I prefer Chinese type soups meself.
 
I don't thing Jawge and Toeknee would give us much entertainment against the Giant Squid. I mean, a ten-tentacled behemoth takes on the brainless and spineless? I know there have been some cup upsets over the years but even if they were armed I suspect that Bush would just nuke himself in the foot and Blair would find that his British Army gear doesn't work under any conditions!
 
Bring back absolute monarchy, that's what I say. Then we can stop wasting time pretending that we have any choice or influence in society and get on with doing something with our lives.

Helen Bristol

03 February 2003 17:30

Big Mac is already compiling the menu for you to cook!
 
What!  Are you trying to tell me that my X on a ballot paper means nothing?  Surely not, all those years I've dutifully (as is my wont) trudged along to the sports hall to put pencil stub to paper.
 
I wouldn't mind quite so much if they weren't such two-faced liars.  Y'know, Sadam isn't complying with UN resolution twiddle so let's get him boys. Sharon isn't complying with UN resolutionxxxx but its OK 'cos he's a buddy of George W and all round good guy. And if Blair tells me once more that "what you've got to understand is......." I'll, I'll I'll, oh I don't know what I'll do. Not sure about the absolute monarchy, after all we could get someone like the Red Queen, oh, sorry we alre........  no, no, New Labour's more pinko than Lenin-red. Life, liberty and fraternity for me,  with the odd foam bath thrown in for good measure.

Vile Jelly

03 February 2003 18:17

But you've got to think about the long-term.
 
The sooner the human race is decimated then the sooner cuddly people will rise to power heralding a new age of camaraderie (and FBJ!).
 
After all, when was the last time that the hedgehogs/sheep/flat people/dragons/snakes/etc. tried to wipe you off the face of the planet for the greater good of the stock exchange?
 
PS. VJ wrote this e-mail ..... not us ..... oh no sirree bob, the RT.

Helen Bristol

04 February 2003 17:35

FBJ?

Is it me? End of a busy day. Half brain dead though no more than usual. Any whichway I bend it I can't decipher this one. What or who is FBJ? Flobberly Blobberly Jelly? Fatboy Jelly? Pleeease put me out of my misery.

Helling

Vile Jelly

04 February 2003 19:12

Unfortunately we can't.
 
Or, leastways, we can't supply you with any.
 
As you may have read somewhere in a book (we're sure you've never tried it) certain results can be achieved by making a beverage from the fermented juices of tasty and nutritious products.
 
Now, you see, the normal brown hedgehogs live off a diet of grubs, beetles, etc. What the Sonics discovered was that if you got enough beetles together and stuck them in a vat with some yeast for a while .....
 
Hence, Fermented Beetle Juice.
 
Allegedly it's good stuff but it turns you blue and makes you hyperactive so I've stayed well clear of it.
 
So have the Shauns since the "Ohmygodbungmeinthewashingmachineonmaximumwashrightnow!" incident.

Helen Bristol

05 February 2003 11:22

Oh, THAT.  One hears about these things.  Tried it M'lud? Never touched the stuff!  I thought you were referring to something much more cryptic.

Does it qualify as a weapon of mass destruction? 

Curious goings-on in the derelict factory site next door....

( I'm colloquially "flat on my back". Not, as you have accused others of doing, in order to jump the housing queue, my mud hut is just fine, but as a result of over-enthusiastic participation at the weekend in domestic activities viz. housework!  As usual, struggled on valiantly for 2 days which has undoubtedly made matters worse.  I'll just have to give up humping all those heavy men about)

  ...a guy in riggers' boots and hi-viz jacket, can't remember if he was wearing owt else, though it would be advisable what with the sub-zero temperatures and all, oh yes, and a bobble hat, going around spraying orange numbers all over the place.  Looks like some sort of code.  Perhaps they're connected with the reconnaissance plane overflying us at present?

On the other hand (wash your mouth out Helling) p'raps the developers already know the results of the planning meeting in March!!?

Vile Jelly

05 February 2003 17:04

How on earth can you be living next to a derelict factory in deepest, darkest East Angular?
 
I thought you all lived in thatched cottages and haywains?
 
PS. Never tried humping men but if I did I suspect that it probably would leave me prostrate as well. Pour yourself a large FBJ and Tonic and try to blot out the awful memory.
 
PPS. (Derailed) train of thought: What do the Cornish, the East Anglians and life prisoners have in common?
 
They all take a very long time to finish their sentences.

Helen Bristol

05 February 2003 17:38

(Un)interesting facts:
 #1 The now derelict site was once, long, long ago, the paddock for this mud hut. The (then) owner, who's name I have, as yet, been unable to trace, leased the paddock to the saddler who had premises at the other end of the village.
 
 #2 The factory was built at some stage and did its bit in the Great War, removing silvering from old mirrors ( and probably some new ones as well)
 
 #3 East Anglular was invaded by Yanks (over here, over paid, over sexed) and you will notice odd Yankisms cropping up in the language.
 
Mr. Mcsomething ( as Geordie by all accounts) from up north couldn't make his fortune so is selling the land for houses, including I gather "affordable starter homes"
The propsect of having dwellings between here and the countryside is frightening what with having to "got on" with even more neighbours but compared with the rats, noise and smell especially rancid fat in high summer........come to think of it  there won't be much difference except the factory only worked 5 days a week......... Our mud hut is actually a converted haywain, all the barns and pigsties have been snapped up by whatever the EA equivalent of Emmets and Tourists is.  Have to run a competition in the EDP.  Many visitors also bring their new haywains which can be seen blocking the narrow country lane from about now until the end of January, there are even, if you can believe this, some horse drawn holiday haywains.
 
That was one to be proud of ......that's if I was ever given to Pride.......usually just Prejudice

Vile Jelly

06 February 2003 17:59

And a damn fine oration it was too.
 
I think you should sweep south gathering popular support as you go before eradicating the parasites in London. (And then sweep back up north and eradicate the brassicas! If you don't mind, their proximity is causing us sleepless nights).
 
PS. The thing to remember about unwanted intrusive haywains is how eminently combustible they are. Bwahahahaha!

Helen Bristol

06 February 2003 18:52

Obviously caught your imagination. I shall enlist you as head cook and bottle washer.
 
Which particular parasites do you have in mind?  I could make my choice but risk omitting some of your favourites from the cull.  If you want to eradicate brassicas you'll have to do that yourself, it will be very therapeutic, as I shall be turning north again at Swindon. I seem to recall vast acres of brassicas in the south west, you can't blame it all on Lincolnshire.
 
The trouble with combusting haywains is that since the farmers are no longer allowed to burn stubble the fires would be somewhat obvious, unless you can find some this-isn't-stubble-burning fires.
 
this 'being off sick' is boring as I can't do anything and don't even feel like reading.

Vile Jelly

06 February 2003 20:06

Well, I hate to kick a bloke, or a girly-bloke (I'm not sexist, to me anybody of quality is a 'good bloke'. I merely use the 'girly' prefix in case persons think that I can't tell the difference between M & F!), when they're down but having been wiped out myself recently by the bug from hell I can empathise (if not rhapsodise and symphonise, when I've recovered my energy) about your condition.
 
And when you go back, people say 'Well, you should be all right after all the time you've had off' .....
 
..... mmmn, like they get their R&R by spending their every waking hour with every shred of their soul screaming 'Pleas god, just let me die ..... NOW!'
 
Nil illegitimi carborundum (or whatever the cod-latin phrase is). Survival is everything. In a worst case scenario, turn BM's Westhofs on him. By now he should have tasty and nutritious (and health-giving) Doom Bar running through his veins. If you milk him conservatively you should be able to get through the illness and still have BM left over to perform the culinary duties!

Helen Bristol

07 February 2003 13:43

Well that's a relief - you CAN tell the difference. Empathising will do for now,  rhapsodising etc can wait 'til our next visit.
 
As you know I'm more into buckets of vino than Doom Bar but needs must.........Anyway I don't feel ill, just painful.  The boredom is from not being able to do anything 'cos it hurts or might hurt. Even the Yellow Pages feels as if it weighs as much as a sack of spuds. There's just so much sitting/lying down and planning that you can do, at some stage there has to be some action. BM's been a bit poorly too with a sore throat.  Now, I'm no doctor so my advice was not good, but the same advice given by the doc was GOOD.
 
Need to try a change of position...........

Vile Jelly

07 February 2003 15:13

Try moving from full back to inside centre!

Helen Bristol

07 February 2003 15:56

I'm not fast enough.

Vile Jelly

08 February 2003 09:25

Try stealth tactics.
 
Or sulk and take the ball home with you. (In case of a severe threat of losing possession, follow the great American Football dictum and 'eat the ball'!).

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