Silly Old Granddad's Gone to the Pub Again

The one thing I like about my local is, it never changes. Scruffy, untidy, you wipe your feet when you go out. I told Cyril the landlord he's apathetic; he says he's not, he just can't be bothered. Mind you, it doesn't seem to make any difference, the place is still full of characters. Old Davey's always good for a chat, though he doesn't always make sense. He'd just been to an exhibition of Dutch artists in the art gallery. He reckons Van Gogh would have been blind if he'd had the other ear off. Something about he'd never have been able to wear his glasses. Poor old Davey's showing his age. Whatever you tell him, it's in one ear and out the other. Now you'd never get that with Van Gogh. It'd be in one ear and out the same ear.
Plus old Harry gets no better. He's an awful belching old bogger is Harry. He belched at the bar last night, right near a terribly posh couple.
'How dare you belch in front of my wife' the bloke said indignantly.
'Oh I am sorry' said Harry, 'I didn't realise it were her turn.'
There's no flies on Harry.
We don't just get us old uns in the pub. The young uns give us hours of entertainment, cocky young devils. Young Barry chases anything in a skirt, though his chat up lines are a bit suspect.
'Haven't I seen you you before' he said to a young woman at the bar.
'You might have done' she said quick as a flash, 'I'm the receptionist at the VD clinic.' He never learns and he never gets any better. He's so thick he thinks safe sex is not falling out of bed.
You don't have to be chatty if you don't want to. One chap just sits in the corner and reads. I noticed he were reading some Shakespeare. I tried to engage him in conversation. I nodded towards his book.
'Which one?' I enquired.
'William' he answered without even looking up.
Serves me right for being nosey. I told Cyril. He thought it were funny.
'He came in here one night' he said.
'Who came in' I said.
''Shakespeare' he said, ' I wouldn't serve him. William I said, I'm not serving you. You're bard.'
He's a right one is Cyril when he's on form.
The pub dog still lies in the middle of the floor. This chap came in with this strange pig-like animal on a lead. Cyril were quite worried in case it went for the dog cos its quite old.
'You keep that thing under control' he ordered, 'I don't want no fighting.'
The bloke were quite indignant.
'Its better behaved than any dog round here' he snapped. 'Of any case, a little aardvark never hurt anybody.'
Much as I enjoy my pub visits, you have to go home sometime. I just hoped she were in a better mood than last time. Mind you I upset her just before I came out. The phone rang and there were no speaking, just heavy breathing. She didn't like me shouting 'It's for you dear.'
It were me birthday last week and she were in a good mood and let me win an argument. I never knew what happiness was until I married. Then it were too late. This week she's promised me a surprise when I get home. Perhaps she's gone to live with her sister. Now that would be a nice surprise.
(Only joking about the wife. We've been married a long time and it shows. Last night she said 'Lets go upstairs and make love.' 'Make you mind up,' I said, 'I can't do both.')

As George Dixon used to say, 'Evening all.' If you remember George Dixon you must be getting old!

(And you thought it couldn't get worse!)