Small beer was what you got at breakfast as well, wasn't it?  So, next time we're down we'll roll into the Slope and demand eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, black pudding, hash browns, fried tomatoes, baked beans, extra lard, and fourteen pints of large beer of a doomish persuasion.  Well traditional us. 

 

And....Oi! where's me prize?  I got 436 ants in the competishun, so wheres my years supply of Tinner's and sundried tomato and tofu pasties (caution, may contain nuts)?

 

I did Piers Plowman at school - can't remember much about it except he was a kind of Everyman for the 14th C.  I think he was the warm-up man for Chaucer, which was the serious A level stuff, but not for some reason, the Miller's Tale. 

 

And, Janet Bentley,  when we was down mid October, I stood one evening at the bottom of the Digey and looked up and down Fore Street and there was not a soul to be seen.  you could walk into pubs and restaurants and get fed;  you could even get a seat in the Slope and let Jelly buy you beer. Anyway, if sprog is in vith form, best leave him location of tin opener, your Thresher's account number, strict reminders to feed cat at least once and head for the hills (oh, and turn your mobile off, too). 

Or you could have the traditional Frank The Fisherman's breakfast which is more or less the same but without the eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, black pudding, hash browns, fried tomatoes, baked beans and extra lard!

 

You can't have scored 436 ants. Your maths is as bad as Winwaloe's spelling. Go back and do it properly. Oh, and it's not a compo as such, it's just an amicable and equitable way of determining who gets put up against the wall and shot come the revolution! (But don't let the ems find out. It's a secret project.)

 

Well, in fairness to Mrs. B she was specifically referring to that dark and stormy time in October when the forces of evil rise up and terrorise the living. What's the name for it? It begins with an H .....

 

..... Half-term, that's it.

 

PS. I think you'll find that just because the sprog has got (just waiting for the paperwork next July) 10 A Grade A Levels does not necessarily mean that it can operate a tin opener (especially if it's an electric one, for which it would have to take a BSc in Tin Opening from Thames Valley University)!

My maths is not as bad as Winwaloe's spelling.  It's worse.  It should have been 423.

 

I was merely trying to point out to Mrs B that there are times when not only can you swing a cat in St Ives, but when you let go it will actually fly quite a long way before it hits anybody. although obviously the exact distance will depend on the size, weight and aerodynamic properties of the cat, as well, of course, as such outside agencies as wind speed and direction.  In fact, with the assistance of some elastic and a hand cranked windlass, it should be possible to get the cat from the end of Smeaton's Pier  clear across to The Wharf. (University of Hatfield)

 

Nope, it would be the University of East London.  Thames Valley specialises in more cerebral subjects such as sandwich toasting.

Thank god for that. I feared that our present generation of teenage savants were frittering their last remaining braincell away on frivolous activities!

 

Now, given that the amount of elastic = E, the cat = C and M = manually cranked cat-apult, we can therefore deduce that the amount of elastic required to achieve a successful feline trajectory across the wharf would be:-

 

E=MC2

 

And they said Einstein would never come up with a practical idea!

CM has just seen and misunderstood your brilliant and incisive interpretation of Einstein's theory, and has retired to a place of safety to sharpen his claws and prepare his retaliation. which he is quite prepared to get in first, if necessary.

 

I've just worked it out,  Einstein's name translates as "Mine's a pint."  Casts him in a whole new light.