Plain Daft!

Just off to Blackpool way. Its peeing it down with rain. I've been up to my eyes with the ebook. Hopefully out soon. (Aren't people marvellous. Without friend Russell it would never materialise. Never forget, people are what make the world go round. More later. So just a couple of 'people' stories, a bit of daftness from the past hopefully to brighten a wet winter like morning. Forgive the fact that they're probably politically incorrect! 


I've missed seeing old Harry and Davey and one armed Wally. The World Cup were ok but it's not the same. The pub never changes. The bloke in front of me had a lump of tarmac under his arm.
'What you're having?' asks Cyril.
'A pint of bitter and one for the road' sez the bloke.
I were quite amused. It's not often someone gets one over Cyril. He's usually the one on top. Told me last time I were in a sandwich came in for a lager but he refused to serve it as he doesn't serve food. An' he reckons a penguin came in the other night.
'Have you seen my brother?' sez the penguin.
'What's he look like? sez Cyril.'
Funny man, mind you, fair play to the bloke, he stands up for his customers. A dwarf with learning difficulties were having a rough time at the hands of the younger daft customers. Cyril soon put a stop to that. He's right, though, it's not big and its not clever.
I sat down with my mates. Montmerency, Wally's lad were there too. My God, he's dim. Evidently he tried this job selling door to door. He went to this house and a child came to the door with a whisky in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
'Is your mother in?' asked Montmerency.
'What do you think?' retorted the eight year old.
Wally's quite worried about Monty's drinking. He made him join Alcoholics Anonymous. He joined but now he tells Cyril his name is Albert. He thinks Alcoholics Anonymous is for people who drink under an assumed name.
What makes it worse is that Wally reckons he's the smart one but he's not really. We were arguing, again about whether Monty were downright thick or just too lazy to bother.
'You don't know the difference between ignorance and apathy' I sez.
He's a stubborn old blighter is Wally when he wants to be.
'I don't know and I don't care' he sez. End of argument.
He's a long winded old blighter as well. I 've tried to educate him by improving his grasp of the English language.
'Name me two pronouns' I asked.
'Who, me' he said. You can't win.
Old Harry's no better. His grandson Charlie helps at the furniture auction and can get stuff real cheap. Not that it does Harry any good. This bloke came in with a sofa and two chairs and offered them to Charlie. Real good they were but Harry wouldn't let him have them.
'Taught him proper, I have,' sez Harry, 'right from a baby.'
'Charlie I sez, you must never take suites from a stranger.'
Charlie told Harry two of them had been manhandling a bureau up the auction steps when a drawer opened and three people fell out.
Harry never learns. 'Go on' he sez, 'why were that?
'Cos it were a missing person's bureau' sez Charlie. Poor old Harry.
And Davey doesn't get any better either. He's showing his age and he's always at the doctors. He's not often on this planet.
'Doctor, I think I'm losing it' he sez, I think I'm a goat.'
'How long have you felt like that' sez the doctor.
'Since I were a kid' sez Davey.
The doctor decided Davey needed an injection to steady him down. He got the syringe out and filled it with sedative.
'Just a little prick with a needle' he said.
'I can see that' said Davey, 'but what you're going to do with it?'
Good old Davey. There again everyone seems normal 'till you get to know them.

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! Three more to follow! As my wife says, the old ones are the best!)

(Back from Blackpool!!! Just in time to see scheduled post, (this one) didn't work. Try again. (Sunday afternoon)