jacfan wrote:Julian if you can find those hothouse strawberries, and a glass of baileys that would be great. Or anyone who finds them just bring them into my room and leave them on the bedside table. Thank you.
Waaaaaaaaaayyy ahead of you, the new bright, woolly, red Blanky was rapped around the HH Strawberries, which were plucked , 17 minutes before reaching full ripeness .they will be poifect on delivery......The Baileys is home made, the recipe given to me by an oirish Barmaid with a 260Z, workin in the Royal Standard in 1978, ahhhhhhhh those were the days......split pin, with most of his torso sticking up thru the open sunroof on base gat, Gaz on acoustic gat, Shilo (so called because she was shy when it came to work, n would go low on any gat player who could pick the opening bars to "There is a House in Noo Orleans" forget the title) on Harmonica, The Baileys Queen, with a voice fueled by The Ark Angel Gabriel himself n two of his best contraltos toboot, n me entrusted with the steering duties.............okay.........I canna hold a note, n me drooms wouldna fit........ down to the Ocean Road we would go........not too fast, ye ken,..........but just on........on...........on........ We discovered Burrumbuttock one time.........disentangled ourselves at 10 am on a winters Saturday morn, stumbled to the door of Ye Fine Hostelery n hammered on the shuttered windows n locked door.
About 5 minutes of hammering produced a result that had two other guys running for the car.......as I turned to run, the voices above six bre asts said, in perfect harmony.......toilet NOW. The door creaked open in best Hitchcock fashion,..............n the red eyed apparition, standing about 6ft eleventy nine inches tall said, in a voice from the bowels of hell,....thorxy.cough.....sorrchhh...coughrrrrr....onoinweun.......reuniocough......weddincoughfark
..........help yersel..........gotta spew..........nuthin on tap........... we stayed there for three days in Heaven
The Mountain is a savage Mistress.