Helen Bristol

04 December 2004 16:38

Re: Back to normal

I sort of somehow think we might have a teensie bit of warning that the great inundation might be due in (say) 2300 or so, ipso fatso I'd have plenty of time to finish off the last case of Margaux and get down to the bottle bank to dispose of the evidence in time.
 
Ta!  We have but not that one.
 
Nah. More like the time frame for a shed but without the sides and roof.
 
That's 'cos I was incognito.
 
PS Saw King Theoden last evening. Saw - I stood next to him. He switched on our town's festive lights. Apparently he lives in this neck of the bayou so just watch what you say about us... 

Vile Jelly

06 December 2004 15:37

But, at that point, what would be the point of trying to save the planet by recycling glass? Are you planning to still be up and about at 2300? I'm usually tucked up in bed by then, worrying what time the RT will stagger back this time.
 
The Chickens Are Restless (not sure if it's in any of the Gallery compilations).
 
A shed without sides and a roof? Isn't that an open space? I hope you didn't pay the builders/gardeners for building a non-existent structure!
 
Haven't seen Cognito, so don't know whether you were in it or not. Was it another of Leni Riefenstahl's efforts?
 
PS. But he got squidged at the battle of Pelennor Fields! Are you trying to tell me they faked that fight scene in The King Comes Back?
 
PPS. I thought Bernard Hill was a scouser. Mind you, so was John Peel and he lived in the EA bayous, didn't he?

Helen Bristol

06 December 2004 17:25

Old habits die hard.
 
Don't recall seeing her there.
 
PS 'fraid so.  He looked very much alive - perhaps they used a double.
 
PPS  He doesn't sound Scouse.  Peelie invented his accent didn't he? Yep, he lived about 15 miles from here.

Vile Jelly

06 December 2004 21:29

Wasn't that a film starring a vest (and co-starring Bruce Willis)?
 
Blondish woman, probably with a well-know dictator-de-jour hanging around her.
 
PS. That's really going to pee off Eomer when he gets home and finds out he's not King of Rohan after all.
 
PPS. Perhaps he isn't a scouser really and just put on da accent when he did Boys From T' Black Stuff. Admittedly he didn't sound very scouse in I, CLAVDIVS, although he did have quite a scouse attitude.

Helen Bristol

07 December 2004 14:21

I seem to recall that it too, the vest that is, was about due for recycling into dusters - BW was rapidly heading that way as well.
 
Yes, yes I know all that - I just can't rmember a thing about the mid 20th C.
 
S*** happens.  Perhaps he can take to designing carbincles like Poundbury and talking to plants.
 
Ah, but where does the scouse attitude originate from?

Vile Jelly

07 December 2004 15:42

What do you mean 'was'? Definitely arrived judging from a piccy I saw of him in a Sunday mag t'other day.
 
Well, you know what they say. If you can't remember the 30's and 40's, you weren't there ..... or you're living in Argentina and still haven't managed to get that SS tattoo off.
 
Carbincles? Aren't they a sort of toy for people who like cluttering up their vehicles with attention-distracting, vision-obscuring objects like nodding dogs, furry dice, etc?
 
Aha, thank dog for the internet. BH is a Manc, apparently.

Helen Bristol

07 December 2004 16:08

I was trying not to be judgemental. One man's rags are another man's Sunday best ( I use "man" in the generic sense of human beens)
 
Never met a gaucho in m'life, don't you know.
 
Oops. I'm not on top form today, or yesterday - sort of winter-setting-in, getting-near-crimbo syndrome.  I meant carbuncles or anythingelse that disfigures anything. So, when you take the RT out in the car on their annual pubcrawl are you a carbincle or just a disgruntled old chauffeur? Pissed off 'cos you can't get pissed?  Talking of pubcrawls, you and BM never did manage to drink Cornshire dry -" just got a job"  - what an excuse!!
 
Well, Manc is very nearly in Cheshireshire, innit?. Anyway BH doesn't sound like he's from anywhere north of Watford.
Ashley, BH was with FC whom I met a couple of days later in Budgens and oo we did hev a mardle.  He obviously knew he knew me but couldn't quite place me until I identified the chimney and then he said "Ah that one with the dogs" ( Just shows how long it's been since he visited chez moi - no dogs since the mid 90s (1990s that is)

Vile Jelly

08 December 2004 15:55

True. My 'Sunday best' is in fact my 'Sunday worst' ..... chef's whites!
 
But you must have eaten their corny beef.
 
Acshually, the RT don't need my assistance for transportation. They usually set a trap. The selected motorist comes along and says 'Ooh look, it's Sonic The Hedgehog'. They stop the car to get Sonic's autograph and while they are distracted the others scramble into the car and drive off. (As any fool knows, Sonic is a very speedy hedgehog and therefore needs no assistance in keeping up with vehicles. The secret's in the frictionless trainers, apparently). Anyway, you can't complain about the lack of pub crawl. You were the one who kept telling me to get a job.
 
FC? Father Christmas? I didn't know you'd had a past association with him.

Helen Bristol

08 December 2004 19:23

Tis true, but you didn't need to wait until we'd arrived in SI to get one. Makes a bod feel unwelcome.
 
Yes, Father Christmas.  It's a long story and like most other christmassy tales involves romance, a prince and princess and children...
 
PS just back from a shopping trip to France - 12 hours there, shop and back.  Margaux at 9 euros 90!!!

Vile Jelly

09 December 2004 09:34

Well, you could have just given me a suitcase full of notes and said 'Here you go. Now you don't need to work and can go out boozing with us instead'. B-sides, the RT had been out celebrating my new spending power and so there probably wasn't any beer left in a 50 mile radius anyway.
 
But then you snogged the handsome prince and he turned into a frog?
 
PS. Booze cruise or crate train robbery? The Margaux sounds like a bargain (and clearly a good way of avoiding paying over the odds to subsidise Tony's occupation of foreign countries). Could you nip back and pick up a couple of cases for Soupie?

Helen Bristol

09 December 2004 18:04

What, you mean like " Could Paul be excused from PE today as he's got a cold"? Anyway, I thought that's what the BA does.
 
It is a fairy story so I'll change that to "...........he turned into a Frog"
 
PS Twas the Crimbo Special.  Got nearly everything we went there for except the pate ducks which I wanted for our Boxing Day starter.  They seem to more into tapas this year. I'll put them on the list for our next trip...

Vile Jelly

10 December 2004 10:03

I was thinking more of those coloured ones with a piccy of t'queen on one side. BA? I thought they just went round terrorising Virgin Atlantic passengers.
 
Holy blue!, as they say (when translated by first form skoolboys). That's even worse. Anyway, I know the story has a happy conclusion as you ended up with a very large scotch. Now, as the RT would say, that's what I call a furry tail ending.
 
PS. Duck pate is so vieux chapeau these days. Why not go retro and do melon & parma ham or try something outrageous like prawn cocktails!!!!! (well, just because you're a worldly sophisticate doesn't mean that everyone else is. Certainly not judging by the number of PCs I have to keep assembling for the hoi-polloi up t'castle). Personally, I like black pud (or hog's pud if you prefer) with a creamy mustard sauce. Tasty and nutritious!

Helen Bristol

10 December 2004 10:27

Benefits Agency, who prob'ly do go round terrorising VA passengers as well as handing out dosh to peeps. ( No, not probably, I was competely intimidated when I had to apply for subsistence)
 
Or as CM might say, not if its a Manx, its an endless tale.
 
PS Duck Soup?  or is that an even more vieux chapeau?  Can't do PC as some  of the assembled company don't like fishy things, quelle sacrilege! 
Sounds good but I suspect it might not be offally acceptable.  Which reminds me of an occaision when BM and I stayed in an hotel in Rutland - ordered the full monty for breakfast to include black pud but when the plates arrived not a trace of it.  Upon enquiring of the waitress its whereabouts she explained that Chef doesn't like cooking it.  We said that if she'd said so earlier we would have gone into t'kitchen and cooked our own.

Vile Jelly

10 December 2004 15:44

Not surprised. Subsistence would cost the well-off taxpayer far too much. How dare you apply for the right to continue to exist.
 
Funny you should mention Ellan Vannin .....
 
PS. I preferred A Night At The Opera myself but I'm not one to hold a grouch(o).
 
What is that brown, smelly substance that falls out of the rear of male cows ..... You can't chef if you can't cook, so your adversary was merely being difficult because he/she/it could. Now, if BM had a decent set of knives instead of his german blunderbusses (blunderbi?) he could have gone into the kitchen and sorted it out in the traditional chef-a-chef style.

Helen Bristol

10 December 2004 17:02

Well-off and taxpayer don't sit comfortably together - unless we're talking surtax.
 
Did I? ... oh, I see what you mean.
 
You're harp(o)ing on again.
 
Never was much good at Latin.  What like you once threatened to do?
 
PS CM's one fat contented fleabag this evening.  He's just had the kidneys, liver and lites (all raw) from a bunny I'm cooking.   

Vile Jelly

11 December 2004 09:57

True, true, (barney, mcgrew, cuthbert, dibble and grout).
 
Exactement. It's a tax haven too.
 
Oooh, nice one. So apposite. I'll have you give you full Marx for that quip.
 
PS. Did he catch the rabbit himself. Or did he have to dive into the pot and retrieve the entrails himself while you were cooking the coney?

Helen Bristol

11 December 2004 13:19

Who is grout? Is he in Camberwick Green the Movie by Zeppo-relli?
 
If its so heavenly why did you quit?
 
PS Not this one - 'though he has, in the past, managed to squeeze himself and a bunny through the catflap. CM has only to hear the faint rustle of what he suspects to be a bag containing meat, or the ting of the Wussie on the chopping board and there he is all bright-eyed and sounding as though he hasn't been fed for weeks. The only thing he ever dives into is an old empty box - caught playing? - never.  

Vile Jelly

11 December 2004 14:14

I bow, nay grovel, to your superior knowledge of matters Trumpton-ish. There you were trying to pass yourself off as a normal, responsible citizen when, in fact, you are a secret guru of childish TV. And you have the (asterix the) gall to accuse me of being infantile. Oooh, the bare-faced Chico of it all.
 
Who said I did/done/willhavedone?
 
PS. Yes, we found that with the wrinklies' cats. They are like small sprogs at Crimbo ..... not remotely interested in the contents but insatiably fascinated by the box/bag the contents came in.

Helen Bristol

11 December 2004 14:47

Moi?  WYSIWYG... anythingelse is in your imagination.   Sprogs watch TV. Mother watches TV with sprogs. Mother is childrens' TV guru.  At least you have the gum(mo)tion to admit to your puerility manifesto.
 
Cos you ain't there any more.
 
PS No, no, he LOVES the contents of bags from the butcher. Oh I see, sorry I'm a bit (more) dopey (than usual) on paracetamol and endorphines.

Vile Jelly

11 December 2004 15:00

Hoisted by my own whatsits, I admit. Damn it, I admit everything.
 
Sez who? Not only is the past not what it used to be but neither is the present or the future. As George Harrison sang (after he'd taken an overdose of laxatives) ..... all things must pass.
 
PS. I can understand the parrots-eat-em-all, I tend to have a thick head after Friday nights but why are you on dolphins' ends?

Next    Back    Home    Site Map

 
I (thatís me) own the copyright in all the content of this site (except where otherwise acknowledged). You can read it, download it, transmit it and reproduce it only for your own personal use. You are not allowed to bugger about with it. If your computer explodes as a result of accessing this site and its contents, itís nothing to do with me, mate! Copyright Vile Jelly Publications 2001-2009. All rights (and some wrongs) reserved.