Gill Richards

28 September 2004 08:27

That's right, someone to rely on, those were the days. Yes, adult dictators never explained why did they? It was 'you will believe all these fantastic stories i am telling you, even though they are really hard to understand (cos they don't make sense)'.
 
"Give me a p".....
 
Before ? and after ?
 
You are a cack-handed fool, but you join all the others in this world including myself for taping over something you wanted to keep. A highly irritating past-time but one which will not end the world. I didn't actually watch said prog, but if it was full of all the old favourites then i shall watch the repeat because rest assured they will repeat it. Then you can record it again and break off the security tabs this time!! It was C4.
 
For the taping i presume? (Impossible i'd say, you'd be better off getting someone else to do it) I won't go down the why you may not have any.

Vile Jelly

28 September 2004 09:31

Or, in the immortal words of a Blockbusters contestant, can I have a P please, Bob.
 
BC (Brian Cant), everyone happy. AD (Adult Dictators), misery abounds. Hence, the world was happy in BC but then some religious nutters came along and made it AD and now no one is happy.
 
Ta for the crumbs of consolation (which, knowing my luck, will get into my bed and prevent me from sleeping comfortably!).
 
Let's just say, never try to prevent an enraged RT from going to the pub.

Gill Richards

28 September 2004 10:04

God that programme was awful; spotty geeks and girls surrounded by toys.
 
Ah! like your thinking but what about AAD - After the Adult Dictators - when you realise that it is all a lot of bunkum and you can believe what you like? I'm happy now.
 
And the toast of happiness (just brush them out - use a sheep- and sleep peacefully)
 
oo er

Vile Jelly

28 September 2004 15:12

But I always loved that urban myth that Bob Holness played the sax on Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street!
 
There is no AAD. That is just a load of cobblers made up by religious fanatics to terrorise the gullible into doing what they want. After AD we just become skellingtons. OK, so you were happy then but what about now?
 
Can't use the Shauns. If I let any of the RT into the bed I always end up being forced out and having to kip on the floor.
 
Actually, I think 'aaaaaaaargh' was the expression I used at the time.

Gill Richards

28 September 2004 15:33

very much a myth i think
 
there is AAD when it comes to religion. As i said it's when you realise that it's all cobblers and become an atheist. I'm still happy. AD still exists in general though i admit.
 
that's because there are so many of them, and whose fault is that? build a fence around the window ledge.
 
i expect you did.
 
btw, i'm with you about jazz, awful.

Vile Jelly

29 September 2004 09:45

Ashley, I think you'll find that Baker Street was very much a hit!
 
And just think how foolish the religious nutters are going to feel when they pop their clogs and realise that there isn't an afterlife. They are going to be sooooooo embarrassed! What about now? Another day, another dollop, as the saying goes. Well, dare I say it but, as a leader of a teenage girls paramilitary organisation ..... !
 
How cruel. Even as we squeak the RT are singing;-
"Oh, give me pubs, lots of pubs under starry skies above,
Don't fence me in."
I try to be philosophical at such moments.
 
Well, first Helling claims that she doesn't have vats of wine and then she says she likes jazz. But surely she'd have to consume the former to do the latter. Hmmmm.

Gill Richards

29 September 2004 10:05

Not that stupid, the fact that Bob Holness played on it.
 
Still happy. What have the Guides got to do with it (actually they have something to do with me being happy - they are all at a School open evening this week and so the meeting has been cancelled. yippee!)
 
You could always put a gate in it.
 
You'd have to be.
 
Apparently not, some people just don't have any taste (sorry Helling)

Vile Jelly

29 September 2004 15:08

Sorry, couldn't resist the old gag.
 
Lawks, what are you on (and where can I get some from)? Well, you're an adult (or you were the last time I saw you) and you're giving the orders in the aforementioned paramilitary org. (So, a night out at the pub or a night in with the drinks cabinet, then?).
 
But then they wouldn't be fenced in any more, would they, which would seem to defeat the purpose of your original plan. Knowing my luck, they'd fit it with a Jellyproof lock and imprison me.
 
Just as long as I don't put Descartes before the horse.
 
I think the most telling indictment of jazz is that the germans used it to shoot down RAF Lancasters in WW2!

Gill Richards

29 September 2004 15:42

mmm
 
After many years of worrying about anything, i have learned not to worry about things i cannot change, which is almost everything. So why be miserable about it? Be happy and enjoy it while you can.
Sometimes, when it counts. Ah yes. Throwing my weight around from time to time. Doesn't hurt anyone but it's good fun. (think i'll stay in with the drinks cabinet)
 
Don't put a gate on then, make it 6ft high and put barbed wire around the top. That'll dry them up, the bunch of lushes!!!
 
Or spill the bath water
 
b******s

Vile Jelly

30 September 2004 14:47

How dare you send me three ems. You know how I feel about them!
 
Lucky you. I'm a compulsive worrier and no amount of wishful philosophising can override my subconsciousness's determination to worry about everything. Still, at least I find that drinking myself into a coma at every available opportunity reduces the amount of time that my brain is capable of functioning and, thusly, worrying. How was it for the drinks cabinet!
 
But that would be cruel and human treatment. [I don't see why it is termed 'inhuman' as it is really just humans being their usual shitty selves]. The RSPCCP would have me up before the beak and getting sentenced to hard labour in a dungeon quicker than you could say 'Tregenna Castle kitchen'.
 
Only got a shower so no eurekaing for me.
 
No. Honest. It's true!

Gill Richards

30 September 2004 15:06

no no, not m m m, mmm, that would be mean.
 
Yes, but when it makes you ill, you have to make the decision not to worry about things. my mantra: 'it doesn't matter'. Then get drunk and enjoy it for what it is. Very light. Not being used to drinking too much, it didn't take long for the alcyhol to take effect!
 
ok, i was having a mean moment. You obviously have some sort of deal with them so that they don't invade your bed so stick with it.
 
that's ok then. It means you won't scare people by running around naked when you discover something.
 
I shall re ***. Illegitimate people! 

Vile Jelly

01 October 2004 10:49

Or 3,000 in Roman.
 
But the whole point is that it is compulsive (no doubt branded into my subconscious my childhood trauma) and so no amount of thinking or rationalisation can overcome the problem. I do (and I think I do/did. Can't really remember!). So, plenty left for another sesh, eh? That's one of the first things blokes look for in a woman, y'know; looks, personality and a well-stocked drinks cabinet.
 
I do. I give them all my money and they go to the pub instead of nicking my bed.
 
Ashley, such is my hideosity that I can easily frighten people even with my clothes on. That's why I have been banished to my Grendel-like existence here, East of Eden, West of Everything, North of Bugger All, South of the Border and in the Middle Of Nowhere.
 
Exacardly! It must have been inconvenient enough being shot down in flames without having jazz inflicted on you at the same time. No wonder the Nazis are regarded as the embodiment of pure evil!

Gill Richards

01 October 2004 11:30

they always were weird.
 
If you say so. I worried without meaning to, and it still do, but I make myself not worry. Hard to do but possible. Oh yes plenty left. A full wine rack and some nasties in the cabinet (you know; the stuff you buy, don't really like but leave it there because a) you're a skinflint and don't want to throw it out, b) someone else might like it, c) you might try it again one day (when you're desperate)). The olds are coming over for dinner on Saturday night, so the rack will take a battering.
 
So you're poor, but happy in your warm/cool bed.
 
Don't call me Ashley. Is that why you hide in the Sloop with all those other people?
 
So the SS sign that is regularly miss-drawn by kiddies is actually the wrong way round? It should be ZZ for 'Jazz'!

Vile Jelly

01 October 2004 14:23

Well, I suppose that all that veni vidi vici-ing went to their heads.
 
I do, I just did and, ask me tomorrow, and I will have done so. Well, if you are going to experiment with the odd-shaped, -coloured, -smelling stuff at the back of the cabinet it's probably best to do so on someone expendable ..... like the parents! (Sorry, just a subliminal flashback to every sprog's ultimate revenge fantasy). Just make sure you've got the inheritance sewn up first.
 
Ah, the ultimate bed; automatic foot-warmer, thermostatically controlled duvet and permanently cool pillow. If only, sigh ...
 
Sorry, Scarlett! What other people? They were just actors I hired for the day to make me look slightly less sad.
 
True. And, thusly, it was not D-Day but E-Day that liberated Europe. The triumphant arrival of Mr P's records that banished jazz to the armpit night clubs it belongs in and freed the body and soul of oppressed youths like L & M. 

Gill Richards

01 October 2004 16:16

ready, willing and able?
 
ok. no odd coloured stuff (apart from some 'rum' brought back from Jamaica by a 'friend' - it won't be drunk). I'm in the process of getting power of attorney sorted!!
 
Perhaps you could invent one, i'd buy one.
 
So, you'd hire someone who asks for breakfast at 12.40pm would you?
 
sorry, but in my view that's as bad as jazz.... (who are l&m?)

Vile Jelly

01 October 2004 17:05

Cogito ergo sum.
 
Well, don't crack the 'DO NOT BREAK THIS SEAL' seal on the rum until you've got it sorted. I've seen what happens in T'Mummy!
 
If I could invent one I wouldn't be able to market it as I would just stay in bed all the time. Maybe that's what really happened in the Garden Of Edam. Eve was moaning about the lack of a decent bed and Adam, naturally being a 'new man', invented the perfect bed. God, in a fit of rage, realised he/she/it wasn't as smart as he/she/it thought and went off in a sulk. [I presume you've noticed that as science and, hate to admit it, have put in an appearance, god has failed to manifest any of his biblical oeuvres]. And so, would you Adam and Eve it, Adam and Eve
 
Well, it made me look moderately smarter, didn't it?
 
I would have agreed in my wild reckless yoof but ..... the EP everyone thinks of is a hard image to resist. Way, way back, many centuries ago (not long after the bible began) I purchased (using the RT's beer money but don't tell them!) an EP 'compilation de jour' for Mummsy's burpday. Usual ho-hum platitudes ensue but a day or two later Mummsy is caught enrapped in his rendition of Can't help etc' . Y'know, quoth she, I'd forgotten what a beautiful voice he had. A lot of his stuff is pants but he did have a certain effect in his early years, hence .....
 
Don't know L & M? Let me introduce you:-

I read the news today oh boy
About a lucky man who made the grade
And though the news was rather sad
Well I just had to laugh
I saw the photograph.
He blew his mind out in a car
He didn't notice that the lights had changed
A crowd of people stood and stared
They'd seen his face before
Nobody was really sure
If he was from the House of Lords.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go and estimate how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall.

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