Very tragic news...
Posted: Sat Oct 23, 2010 2:24 am
Fellow fruitchattians, it is with a very very heavy heart, and much much sadness and grief, that i have to inform this board of some terribly tragic and horrific, some may even go as far as to saying, sickening news.
I walked into my local public house this evening, the maids head, for those that arent familiar with the establismhent, the regular, common all garden company and companionship were on hand as always, the borderline alcoholic, whos life is entirely consumed with pints of guinness, and maybe a bacardi and coke if its late enough and he is in the correct frame of mind to drink such beverages as shorts, and john deer tractors, which in all honesty and fairness, i cannot even begin to comprehend how he is capable of driving early in the mornin, which he does, the mind truly boggles, and then theres the local man, who likes to talk about varied and quite different topics that you wouldnt always expect to maybe hear spoken about in the everyday villiage boozer, tonights chosen subjects were halal meat and his views on capital punishment, i believe the british national party and the national front were also mentioned in a few fleetingly brisk sentances and nods of mutual agreement ensued (im already NF but thats neither here nor there) joshua, whos first son was born just a few days ago, was getting to grips with the new touch screen juke box in the old battle cruiser, buttons where pressed and voices were raised about the lack of current and relevent songs which are programmed into the LCD screened product of satan.
Lets be honest, any jukebox that does not have bohemian rhapsody by queen or when you were young by the killers, or anything by the fratellis have created installed on its god forsaken hard drive must be viewed with total and utter contempt, and must also be quite obviously and blatantly the product of either the very devil himself, or noel edmonds, whichever is worse, i will let you make that decision yourselves.
Then, we have the pool players, ohh good shot one says, decked out in skinny jeans and maybe a tight tee shirt, and another contender to this futile and maybe slightly pointless stick wielding game says ohh, so close, i did say aww howdya feel at one stage, when one of the unlucky punters missed by a very small amount, but i dont think he understood.
Young beverly was slaving away at the till, as always, keepng us lot in beer, till going beep bleep BLOOP! as always, bevs a good girl bless her.
So, then i decided to get another pint of becks vier, apparently vier means 4 in another far flung language which is alien to my home tongue of the queens english, so im at a loss in regard to that, but nevermind.
So i visit the mens room, an array of beermats from around the globe peer procariously and haphazardly at me from various strange angles, maybe some drunken yoovz have vandalised this area that is sacred for nothing but releiving thyself from many pints of fine fine golden and beautiful ale, paid for by the queens golden sheets behind the bar area, yet it is all to be wee weed away with little thought or enthusiasm.
A man walks in, takes the urinal next to me and attempts to communicate with me by means of starting a conversation, so i respond, at the urinal, with enough respect and decency to seem somewhat unhostile and sociable, but at the end of the day, this gentlemen does have his penis out as he is, as i mentioned earlier, relieving himself, i cannot strike up a conversation with a male who has his whang in his hand without feeling slightly out of place, and to be brutally honest, uncomfortable, so i washed my hands and left.
So, i walked into the bar area once again, the emporiam of pleasure some might say, however, my joy was unfounded and shortlived, something very terrible had taken place, my cluedo was no more.
My pub now has a bellfruit little devil, its so very sad.
this story may or may not have been inspired by the posting style of JG.
I walked into my local public house this evening, the maids head, for those that arent familiar with the establismhent, the regular, common all garden company and companionship were on hand as always, the borderline alcoholic, whos life is entirely consumed with pints of guinness, and maybe a bacardi and coke if its late enough and he is in the correct frame of mind to drink such beverages as shorts, and john deer tractors, which in all honesty and fairness, i cannot even begin to comprehend how he is capable of driving early in the mornin, which he does, the mind truly boggles, and then theres the local man, who likes to talk about varied and quite different topics that you wouldnt always expect to maybe hear spoken about in the everyday villiage boozer, tonights chosen subjects were halal meat and his views on capital punishment, i believe the british national party and the national front were also mentioned in a few fleetingly brisk sentances and nods of mutual agreement ensued (im already NF but thats neither here nor there) joshua, whos first son was born just a few days ago, was getting to grips with the new touch screen juke box in the old battle cruiser, buttons where pressed and voices were raised about the lack of current and relevent songs which are programmed into the LCD screened product of satan.
Lets be honest, any jukebox that does not have bohemian rhapsody by queen or when you were young by the killers, or anything by the fratellis have created installed on its god forsaken hard drive must be viewed with total and utter contempt, and must also be quite obviously and blatantly the product of either the very devil himself, or noel edmonds, whichever is worse, i will let you make that decision yourselves.
Then, we have the pool players, ohh good shot one says, decked out in skinny jeans and maybe a tight tee shirt, and another contender to this futile and maybe slightly pointless stick wielding game says ohh, so close, i did say aww howdya feel at one stage, when one of the unlucky punters missed by a very small amount, but i dont think he understood.
Young beverly was slaving away at the till, as always, keepng us lot in beer, till going beep bleep BLOOP! as always, bevs a good girl bless her.
So, then i decided to get another pint of becks vier, apparently vier means 4 in another far flung language which is alien to my home tongue of the queens english, so im at a loss in regard to that, but nevermind.
So i visit the mens room, an array of beermats from around the globe peer procariously and haphazardly at me from various strange angles, maybe some drunken yoovz have vandalised this area that is sacred for nothing but releiving thyself from many pints of fine fine golden and beautiful ale, paid for by the queens golden sheets behind the bar area, yet it is all to be wee weed away with little thought or enthusiasm.
A man walks in, takes the urinal next to me and attempts to communicate with me by means of starting a conversation, so i respond, at the urinal, with enough respect and decency to seem somewhat unhostile and sociable, but at the end of the day, this gentlemen does have his penis out as he is, as i mentioned earlier, relieving himself, i cannot strike up a conversation with a male who has his whang in his hand without feeling slightly out of place, and to be brutally honest, uncomfortable, so i washed my hands and left.
So, i walked into the bar area once again, the emporiam of pleasure some might say, however, my joy was unfounded and shortlived, something very terrible had taken place, my cluedo was no more.
My pub now has a bellfruit little devil, its so very sad.
this story may or may not have been inspired by the posting style of JG.
