Wednesday 28 March 2018

Ball-tampering Analytica...




It has come to the notice of several gentlemen in the parish, that ball-tampering is becoming rife - especially at council meetings when feelings are high, emotions stretched, and the sap is... (get on with it - Ed).

Of course, one would wonder if there is indeed any reason to complain if a few seams are lifted, and substances used to roughen the surfaces and the fingers spin a Chinaman's googly down the aisle of the village hall!

Certainly, it has been known in the past, that Ms Baggage has bouncers which are deemed unplayable on occasions, and the Baroness Elect, Cynthia Molestrangler, has deployed the screens on many a tense final engagement with a fulfilling finish, so there's a sense of wonderment that three Senior (not you Dear) council members were sent home in disgrace!

The upshot of all this (wrong word - Ed), is that cameras are definitely deployed for the next council meeting, when Mr Iodine is called to explain his conduct in providing the necessary materials such as Elastoplast and Anusol Tablets. (WHAAAT - Ed)!

To be continued ad-infinitum, or at least 'stumps'...

Wednesday 21 March 2018

Molestrangler Analytica...


Breaking news by Ms Edwina Baggage - Bicycling correspondent on The Sodden Prickney Bugle...

Baroness Cynthia Molestrangler has instructed Phondle and Knudge-Wincke, Solicitors and Commissioners for Oaths, to investigate how a telephone list of all the Parish was obtained from Mr Norbert Iodine's chemist shop, so that calls could be made to alter the result of the erection (don't you mean 'election' - Ed) when Count Basil Kalshnikov was voted in as Supreme Chairman of the Council.

Constable Lumbersnatch has also been informed for some reason only known to nobody in particular.

The self-styled Baroness insists that Mr Iodine's list of customers was purloined some time around the voting for the Count, and that there are some people who indeed have copies of all the prescriptions issued by various physicians in the district.

Mr Iodine was instrumental in obtaining permission for the lay-by outside his shop, so that Ms Billary could park her 4 x 4 to purchase necessary accessories such as comforting preparations to enable easy seating etc., and the like, without being noticed. In fact Mr Iodine was once (at least seven times - Ed), seen to assist Ms Billary who kept tripping up and falling down, by grasping several parts of her at the same time while her driver panicked and picked up the various packages, which contained enough preparations to fell a horse, maybe an elephant, possibly (get on with it - Ed), and had every reason to let slip the names and addresses for voters to decide.

Count Basil Kalshnikov made no comment, except to say that the little blue pills were for a complaint not unassociated with manic impropriety, not what you're thinking.

...to be continued.

Sunday 18 March 2018

Stuff of life...


While I suppose I shouldn't be partaking of this particular beverage today, as Twickenham and Cheltenham seem to be the stamping grounds of the Irish at the moment, I do have a certain loyalty to the dark tincture as my dad worked for them for thirty years and I had several jobs there as well...

So as writer's block continues, I thought I'd show you a pic of one I opened ten minutes ago!

Sláinte!

Wednesday 7 March 2018

Eyes, eyes...

Scrobs went for an eye test today.

Tunbridge Wells is OK, but not the best place these days, and some of the shops are a bit tawdry... It was raining so perhaps that made the difference.

So, into Boots, and away we went!

Lovely ladies with machines to show the bits you need, and eventually the result was that your favourite bloke this side of The Appalacians really didn't need new specs, he was still about the same as three years ago, except for a tiny nudge towards a cataract, which is to be expected at my time of life...

So, we decided to forego the cost of a new pair of specs, and wait a year. But we also decided that the specs normally presiding on the Scrobs' conk needed a bit of adjusting, and so it was thus!

How can anyone ever write a poem about the eyes of the lovely lady in the opticians? Gorgeous, as we had to stare at each other for several minutes, and I became somewhat lost in a blue haze and nearly wished I was many years younger..

We sorted the specs I still have, I paid not a cent, and promised to come back next year.

But the most beautiful eyes I ever see are those of the Senora Charismatic Roberta 'O'Blene, the love of my life!