Much though I love the grandchildren, sometimes 'silly granddad' has to get away from it all.
I went to the pub last night. Nothing new there, then. And nothing particularly different from any other visit. Old Davey insisted on telling me about the difficulty he'd had trying to sell a bike in the local paper.
'Describe it' I said. 'Eighteen inch wheels, drop handlebars, Sturmey Archer gears.' said Davey. 'No problem there' I said, 'did you put all that in the advert?'
'Can't tell you,' he said, 'its classified.'
Silly old twerp. Thought a game of darts might change the mood.
'Nearest the bull?' I suggested.
'Moo' said Davey.
'Baa' said I.
'You're nearest' said Davey, 'You start.'
I were beginning to find the whole evening something of a strain. Quite pleased when this women came in with a parrot on her shoulder. My, was she ugly.
She sidled over to me. Why do the ugly ones always pick on me.
'Guess what I've got on my shoulder and you can kiss me' she pouted.
'A crocodile' said I.
'That's near enough' she suggested.
I declined the offer.
I reckon it must have been 'Take your pet to the pub week.'
Another customer came in with a newt on his shoulder.
'A whisky for me and a glass of water for Tiny.'
I jumped at the chance to leave the ugly woman.
'Lovely animal, why do you call it Tiny?' I enquired.
'Because he's my newt.'
There's no answer to that.
Not a bad pub but some reckon all pubs nowadays are not what they used to be.
Old Harry always were a moaner. 'No smoking, warm beer, too much food. Hopeless, but its the spittoon I miss most.'
'You always did' said I.
I must admit Harry had a point. My beer were cloudy as hell.
'This beer's off' I suggested to the landlord.
'What you moaning at' he said. 'You've only got one pint of it. I've got three barrels.'
The pub's dog were a right one as well. The sign on the bar said 'Beware of the Dog' yet it always lies on the floor fast asleep. Mind you, the notice worked. Nobody fell over it after the notice went up!
What with all these animals, it were more like a zoo than a pub.
A bloke came in with another dog. Old, decrepit, smelly, he were in a right state. And the dog were no better.
'That dog's knackered,' I said, 'It's lame and half blind and can hardly hear.'
'Rubbish', said the old man, 'watch this.'
'Come here, Fido. Sit!'
'Oh dear, can someone get me a mop and bucket.'
It started to go right downhill from then on. A little bloke walked in, stepped in it and went his length. He got up and blow me, a great big bloke walked in and did exactly the same. The little bloke exclaimed, 'I've just done that.' And the big bloke knocked the little bloke right over the bar.
It were getting too lively for me.
Good idea, late night shopping. It's the wife's birthday so I thought I'd buy her some flowers on my way home. Only the florist had run out of anenomes, the wife's favourite flowers. In fact they hadn't much left at all. So I took her a large potted fern. I'd had a drop to drink, but I reckoned 'With fronds like these who needs anenomes.' And so home to bed. Happy wife, happy life; roll on tomorrow!
(Sorry about the jokes, my wife's always saying of my jokes 'the old one's are the best'. I don't know what she means!)
Mine Pie Cake
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