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Helen Bristol 18 June 2004 17:24 Re: Grilled lamb
Dick Whittington's successor. Good or bad depends on whether you're a
mummy frog. Hmm...............
No,no,no,no,no. If all I got was 4 measly weeks I'd be shelf-stacking in
Tesco. Yes, I've read about it. Trouble is most of the Consultants still
regard everyone else as serfs, with one notable exception, about
whom I shall say no more...
You mean there is someone else supplying you with beer? So that's what
BM meant by "... and he can explain himself"?
Oh, by the way, Lucy says it was very thoughtful of you to let the RT (well,
Shaun, actually) have a cold shower during that hot spell.
Vile Jelly 19 June 2004 09:01
Wasn't that Puss In Boots or is that the wrong panto?
That's funny because I got the impression that the NHS 'management' were
actually shelf-stackers from Tesco. Do they greet your morning arrival at work
with a delighted cry of 'Serf's up!'?
Not any more. Apparently some bugger let slip that I'd called them gullible
fools and now I'll probably never get another consignment (or locate the
chimney they hide their supplies up).
Tell Lucy that Shaun says while he enjoyed the cold shower to get away from
the heatwave, unfortunately while he was in there for some reason all he could
think of was cold, over-cooked sprouts, which rather disrupted his previous
train of thought !
Helen Bristol 19 June 2004 18:00
Pantos are all pretty much the same - good prevailing over eeville.
The belles of Westminster rang out "Turn again Livingstone, Lord Mayor of
London". So Kenny looked at all his options; he was up against the
fickle-hearted Shagger Norris and that very nice Mr Simon, plus a few
other no-descripts - he would need help. So he turned
back to the centre right ( "will you help me boys and girls?") where
he has welcomed by King Tone.
The (k)night Howard was dismayed, "Drat and double drat, that's spoiled
Shagger's chances" At which point, of course, the audience all say
"Boo" and "Hisssss"
Livingstone was duly elected Mayor. Shagger was heard (in a stage
whisper) to say "I'll be back" Cue audience "Boo",
"Hissss". That very nice Mr. Simon went back across the river
to Southwark to tend his window boxes. And while Kenny didn't get the
girl as such, the prize was of far higher value to him........ Then we
all join in the community singing - Oranges and Lemons or somesuch appropriate
ditty.
A few years back, when another hospital, not a million miles from where I
work, was trying to recruit locums from the Antipodes some bright spark
decided to compare the, admittedly beautifully clean, & sandy, but
shallowly sloping, beach to Bondi. Come to the beautiful east
coast, surf capitol of the UK. Do what? You know that bit in
Apocalypse Now when they are discussing the run of some shallow surf and , of
course, Charlie don't surf, well that's about the extent of it. I
digress. No, the serfs rush excitedly into the hospital shouting
"What's up, doc"
What an unfortunate Freudian slip, but you'll never find them. Too many
chimneys in the old mud hut.
Poor lamb! That sort of thought dis-junction can have a lasting effect
on a chap, you might have to lend him some of your magazines. Not the ones
with hoof marks on them - he's already looked at those while you were at
t'Castle (These messages are all very well but trying to explain what
they mean to a sweet but non-too-bright, and naive lobsterette is straining
all my powers of invention).
Vile Jelly 20 June 2004 09:54
But how can good have triumphed over evil? Evil (or, as top theologists call
it, London) is still there. And so is Tony's flunky, Mr. Deadbrick. Surely
that is a triumph of weevil over good. Why couldn't the stupid cockneys have
elected Barbie instead of Ken?
Why was the horsepiddle trying to recruit extra staff. Wouldn't it have been
easier to do what that nurse did and just kill off the patients quicker?
Besides I remember (from my 'watch anything for a laugh' student days) Young
Doctors. Judging from that your antipodeans wouldn't have been of any medical
(or acting) use anyway. Like the idea of surfing in the fens, though. A sort
of high speed bog-snorkelling, I presume?
Curses! I don't suppose you could conveniently forget the whole incident,
could you. Or, leastways, don't let slip to Le Grand Ecosse.
Don't you believe it. Beneath that 'butter wouldn't melt on her shell' look
lurks a scarlet lobster. Shaun says that he had to go and ask Soupie what some
of Lucy's suggestions meant (and got a clip round the ear as a result). Last I
saw, Soupie had told him to go and wash his mouth out with sheep dip!
Helen Bristol 21 June 2004 22:03
Not often mentioned - but there was the episode with Barbie's little
sister............bad newts!
Look, I know history is your thing but do try to get your act together about
the geography of East Angular - we're not all bogs and fens, some of us
are desert and then there's the beaches, not to mention the Brecks.
No, absolutely not. Kind friends thought of you in your hours of need -
and what do we get? Where are the honed critques of real ale?
Exactly - where? Real beer drinkers..........but then all this is
wasted.... another pint of Red Barrel, landlord.
So you understood all that? I didn't - explain, please.
Vile Jelly 22 June 2004 09:06
My niece is (or was at the time) into Barbies and got loads of kit from
various relis. One was some sort of biker chic ensemble (I think) and after
one look at all that (pseudo)leather was christened Klaus Barbie!
Sorry, I was rubbish at geog. Kept using the wrong colours on the maps
(probably explains my confusion as to the firmness of the terrain in EA). But
how can your beaches be deserts? Surely they must have water or what were the
Aussie hossie surfers supposed to use? And what are the brecks (apart from
Ready, obviously)?
What? You were expecting me to be able to write after drinking all that?
Anyway, I don't do real ale (wine or fud) 'critiques' because I hate all that
poncy verbiage that goes with it. What the hell does 'taste reminiscent of
autumn bonfires' mean? Do bonfires taste different in the spring? Has anyone
actually tasted a few bonfires to test this theory? I liked Mr. Chimbley's
ales ('part from the stout but that's cos I can't stand stout, no reflection
on Mr. C). I drank them and felt good during and after the experience. What
the hell else does anyone need to know on the subject of beer-drinking? It's
not rocket science! Now, calculating Lagrange points, THAT'S rocket science.
I can't. After sending my previous e-mu, Soupie caught up with me and washed
my brain out with sheep dip. Perhaps you'd best have a gal-to-gal chat with
Lucy.
Helen Bristol 23 June 2004 18:00
Many moons ago I had a holiday job in Selfridges in London selling Barbies or
was that Barbours? Whatever. I didn't understand the attraction of
them then, and still don't. There was also Sindy and Tressie.
The Brecks is the barrier between us and the Fens.
OK, accepted you don't like stout, fine. When has beer ever tasted like
bonfires,etc,etc? Unless you're standing there stoking the fire with a tankard
in one hand. Your critique,like you, doesn't have to be poncy.
Just say what you mean. It's taken a mind-boggling amount of prompting
to get you to say anything about the Old Chimney Ales. Was it all worth the
effort, I ask myself? Prob'ly as you were posative and succinct.
That's how myths start. Two ignorant people trying to understand
something that they don't so they make it all up. I DID find my sprogs
under a gooseberry bush. I was told that's where they came from to I
MUST have done. No more gooseberry bush so no more offspring.QED. Quite
how cold brassicas fit into the scheme of things .................ooooh.
Vile Jelly 24 June 2004 09:27
So, you admit to mooning in the past. And in Selfridges!
Also, you admit at last that there ARE swamps in EA. I wasn't fooled by your
desert theory for a moment. Do the Brex (Note correct contemporary spelling.
Got to move with the times, y'know.*) keep the Grendels out as well as the
water?
It's not true. I am not suck-sink ..... Well, OK, I did once when I spilled
half my drink into it and there wasn't anything else to slurp! I think it's
wines (as expounded upon by Jilly Whatsherface) that usually taste of
bonfires, etc. Anyway, it's the principle rather than the specific analogy. I
subscribe to the RT's style of reviewing, 'Drink beer. It's tasty and
nutritious'. Unless, it's foul swill, in which case I wouldn't have hesitated
to tell you (or try and get a direct refund from Mr C!).
Well, if the thought of cold, over-boiled sprouts have the same effect on
Shaun as they do on me .....
*(Unless you are the Barclay twins, in which case you move with the daily
telegraph).
Helen Bristol 24 June 2004 18:25
But I was much younger then...and I got paid.
Never denied it. EA is a sort generic term that encompasses Naughty
Norfolk, Silly Suffolk, Comfy Cambs, and E..well, Essex. D'no*, haven't
looked.
* text-speak
Vile Jelly 24 June 2004 21:23
What? You mean you're not now and you don't? Maybe you should seek an employer
with a more liberal dress code and salary structure.
Well, have you been attacked by any Grendels? That would be a good test of
whether the brecks hold fast!
I don't speak text. It's against my religion.
Helen Bristol 25 June 2004 18:10
? 'course I'm not as young as I was yesterday, and I do.
Not noticably but it's difficult to tell here abouts, there are some very
strange looking folks.
Vile Jelly 26 June 2004 09:56
What? You mean you haven't worked out how to manipulate the space/time
continuum yet? Beast Anglia must be even more of a backwater (or, as you
insist you live in a desert, backsand) than I thought. Well, how come you have
given up mooning then?
Local trolls or ems?
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