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Helen Bristol 06 June 2004 19:08 Re: Grilled lamb
Hope that's leaning right on the way back.
Where do the weekends go? One minute I'm sitting here mardling with you on a
Friday night - next minute its time to get things ready for work on Monday.
And soooo tiring!
See you made to the beerfest and not in disguise! That was FE holding the
glass for you ?
Vile Jelly 07 June 2004 09:14
No, after a good sesh at the Tinners it was a case of just lying on my back on
the return journey.
Not sure, although traditionally they seem to return to nest for a brief
period just after Friday before flying away on Monday mornings. Off to the
quack's to hopefully get the full SP (and good news) on the ankle so my Monday
plight is not much better than yours.
That was actually a cardboard cut-out of me. I had to hide under the table
because the organisers wouldn't let in anyone with offensive
weapons/opinions/personalities!
Helen Bristol 07 June 2004 18:21
It looked very life-like......or as life-like as I can remember.
The words 'Bumble Bee Kelly', 'table' and 'under' conjure up a picture
of a tight squeezy situation. (I know pots, kettles and black.)
PS I really don't understand how/why my emu system seems to randomly decide
which of my mailboxes to receive into.
Vile Jelly 08 June 2004 09:06
More 'undead'-like in my case, methinks. Anyway, I hollowed out a foxhole (the
fox was most put out) under the table and the RT just passed down the
occasional soggy beer met for me to suck. Apparently all the beer was gone but
I couldn't see from where I was and so had to take their word for it.
PS. It's probably the electronic cyber-elves getting bored and pratting about
again. Put LOTR on for them to watch, that should keep them quiet for a while.
Helen Bristol 08 June 2004 18:31
How unlike you to end up under the table. With only 60 pints on offer I'm not
surprised it went quickly - particularly with your "family" there -
that's about 2pints each, isn't it?
PS I would but, like my "Farmer Giles of Ham" its gone AWOL.
PPS I like this weather - 30C today, just the right kinda day for a swim
and again I virtually had the pool to myself.
PPPS Is a beer met what peeps in Knightsbridge put their silver tankards
on?
Vile Jelly 09 June 2004 14:44
No, no, no. Only 60 barrels (or multiples thereof). That's why there was only
just enough for the RT. They wouldn't sully their hooves/paws/appendages to
attend a beerfest with only 60 pints!
PS. Never read that one. The Father Christmas letters are quite good, though.
Surprised Disney (or whoever) haven't raped them yet.
PPS. Gone cloudy and cooler here. So much for the heatwave!
PPPS. Accursed auto-spellchecker! Yes, and a creche is a collision between two
rolls royces.
Helen Bristol 09 June 2004 18:18
I used to read Farmer Giles to the youngest sprog - probably why he grew up
(?) into a Tolk enthusiast, not just LOTR but the Hobbit and Silmarillion,
etc.
Cloudier but still in the mid 20s. This I like, but would
prefer to be able to take a 2 hour siesta a la the French. It feels a
tad thundery at the mo.
And I live in a hice. I get accused of talking posh but, really, one can't
help one's up-bringing.
Vile Jelly 09 June 2004 21:04
Ooh, now the Silmarillion is definitely THE fantasy whitewater rafting
experience. I used to snigger (politely) at people who said they'd tried LOTR
but found it hard going. Four-chewing-ately, in my stint as a hysteria student
I read a few (translated) classic medieval potboilers (Egil's Saga, History of
the Franks, Njal's Saga [which I heartily recommend]) and so had mastered the
art of gliding through all the begetting and smiting while still following the
story by the time I got to the Slubberdigullion. The sprogs are probably
too old and withered now but the FC Letters is a delightful book for someone
who wants to entertain unspoilt children (or adults).
I believe you. Met a bloke (as opposed to The Bleurk) at the Beerfest and, lo
and behold, as if by magic, he was from your neck of the woods. I regaled him
with stories of how ghastly SI is in the summer. He regaled me with stories of
how ghastly GY is in the summer! Oh, and he couldn't believe the house prices
down here. N E whey, I thought the spanish took siestas, the french just take
the p***.
So, how do you pronounce 'how now brown cow'? Apparently, that's one of the
crucial tests to get you into the Carlton Club (or debagged behind the krikkit
pavilion at Eton)!
Helen Bristol 10 June 2004 18:52
Read the Illyad a few years back. Much the same thing except that
there are choruses about Zeus' gold/silver edged aegis. Good story non
the less. I thought you were going to say you'd read Beowulf ect. in the
original. Now that would have filled me with undying
admiration. I've got 4 (wait for it) great-grand nephews, god it makes
me feel ancient. enyway I can indoctrinate them into the joys of middle
earth.
If we'd known he was going we'd've blagged a lift. We're all in the EU now so
if I want to take a french siesta I will.
Hi ni brine ki, its beginning to look like Euskara. Eton? Pah. Windsor
Grammar. I 'ail from 'arra'.
PS You keep referring to the goings-on behind varicose pavillions.
Having attended a skool for young ladies I'm not familiar with krikkit/rugerby/footie
pavillions. Nothing like that (whatever "that" is) happened
behind, to the side or,indeed, infront of the lacrorsse pavillion. I feel I
might have missed some incedibly important part of puberty....but then there
was the yoof club.
PPS what's the SP on the throbbing hoof?
Vile Jelly 11 June 2004 09:40
What do you mean 'read' Beowulf? I had a starring role in it (until Mr B
nobbled me)! 4 great grand nephews, eh? What are they called; Huey, Dewey,
Louie and Hong Kong Phooey? Don't let them get ageist on you. Remember in ME
everyone is dead old and it doesn't bother them. Off the top of my head
Galadriel was several thousand years old and she still looked like Kate
Blanket!
Maybe you should put an add in the local poopers a few weeks before next
year's bash and organise an outing. The french were too late, the Czechopololatvians
have already taken up the full EU siesta quota.
But does the aqueous solution in the Spanish holiday resort have the
flavour that you expected?
PS. Boys-only skool. The 'behind the pavilion' is a metaphor for skulduggery,
thuggery and, possibly, other activities ending in 'uggery'!
PPS. Achilles is still a tad tender but the anti-defamatories worked a treat
on the swelling (and swearing!). Got a straight 8 hour shift tomorrow as a dry
run to see if there is any reaction when I start blue-arsed-flying again. Had
a blood test yesterday. They couldn't find any! Now got three holes in my arms
as a result of the extensive drilling operations.
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