Friday, June 23, 2006
Three Day Drunk
Shamelessly Paradied from Sea-Feverby John Masefield
I must go off for a pee again, to that beautiful porcelain bowl,
And all I ask is my strength of will, so I can grab my sausage roll,
And the scrumpy’s kick and my wind's song and all the walls a’ shaking,
And a red blush on my swollen face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go off for a pee again, loose the frothing cider tide
It’s a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
Pickled egg equals windy day with nauseous retches trying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the liver crying.
I must go off for a pee AGAIN or I’ll smell like a vagrants wife.
To the Greenway and the blurry way where my wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet sweet dream when the long drink's over.
Shamelessly Paradied from Sea-Feverby John Masefield
I must go off for a pee again, to that beautiful porcelain bowl,
And all I ask is my strength of will, so I can grab my sausage roll,
And the scrumpy’s kick and my wind's song and all the walls a’ shaking,
And a red blush on my swollen face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go off for a pee again, loose the frothing cider tide
It’s a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
Pickled egg equals windy day with nauseous retches trying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the liver crying.
I must go off for a pee AGAIN or I’ll smell like a vagrants wife.
To the Greenway and the blurry way where my wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet sweet dream when the long drink's over.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Dear All
If I may, I shall begin with a literary tribute to the mighty Shoogs:-
"Sergeant Colon didn't reply. I wish Captain Vimes were here, he thought. He wouldn't know what to do either, but he's got a much better vocabulary to be baffled in". (Guards! Guards! Terry Pratchett).
And so we begin,
Right I won't bother with ranting, I shall just briefly record the less dull moments of the last couple of months.
Big Pussy:-
A ha, a ha ha ha.
While wandering around a pretty sizeable Oxfordshire estate recently, in my capacity as a heritage shiriff, I was amazed by the lack of rabbits in the long barrows which are now in deep woodland. I was further amazed when a black panther ran out from behind trees 30yds in front of me and shot off down slope. The reason I know it was a black panther is that I phoned the estate office to report said beast, and they were delighted as no-one had seen it for 3 years and they feared it was dead, I was just rather please that I wasn't. When I 'phoned the estate office, I said:-
"this thing isn't going to eat me is it?",
To which the lady replied "erm......well, there's no reports of it actually attacking anybody".
Resisting the erge to scream "THAT'S BECAUSE THEY'RE DEAD YOU FOOL". I was terribly British and said "oh, thats ok then , would you mind if I continued my survey?" and didnt leave those woods for another 2 hours. I did arm myself with a big stick, but I suspect the reason the fella ran off in the first place was because he thought I was too much of a meal and couldn't handle the indigestion.
Spirited Night in the Green Dragon:-
Oh Dear.
After a Saturday night of significant liquid refreshment at the Prancing Pony, and other establishments in Bree. M'Shoogie and me decided to opt for a quiet BPOTW (Best Pint of The Week - for those not in the know) on Sunday lunchtime at the Green Dragon. 'Good plan' one originally thought until one had put away more than one or two, and one of our British Isles Brethren brought forth a bottle of Poceen, at the same time as our uncle-fester-looky-likey-smiley-landlordy-chap brought forth the black Sambuca.
What a beautifully surreal afternoon, we lost Fred early, he sloped off after a couple of poceen tumblers and a Sambuca, less coherent than usual. Jimmy had to be helped across the Great West Road at about 8 o'clock. Then Shoogs went for his guitar, I went for the Upton Cider, and we offended the neighbours for about an hour and a half before Uncle Fester drove his car into the garden (via the walnut tree and two picnic tables) so we could listen to the stereo.
I didnt get up until tuesday.
Well, Whose idea was it to mix Black Sambuca and Poceen in a tumbler and neck it?! (Don't try this at home kids).
The People's Republic of West Hendred:-
Right on Brothers.
It was decided this afternoon (BPOTW 18/06/06) to establish an independant state, loyal to the crown, to rule the noble and sacred lands of West Hendred.
Old Sam is to be El Presidente, guided by a council of twelve good men and true (corrupt alchoholics), at the parliament / West Hendy Assembly, to be held in the government buildings (The Green Dragon) once a week. No-one may speak until they have consumed AT LEAST one bottle of Grouse (nappies optional).
We will survive by selling wind-power, generated on the Downs, to the inbred mutants in East Hendred. We will also send in the SBS (Special Bailing Squad) , who have been training hard for the last few years, to steal our neighbours harvests.
We will be part of the United Kingdom, but not part of the European Union.
Our borders will be rigourously patrolled by Richard and his dog Scamp. All illegal aliens will have their ships impounded and be forced to listen to Richard's jokes.
I'm Drunk Now Good Night.
Dan
If I may, I shall begin with a literary tribute to the mighty Shoogs:-
"Sergeant Colon didn't reply. I wish Captain Vimes were here, he thought. He wouldn't know what to do either, but he's got a much better vocabulary to be baffled in". (Guards! Guards! Terry Pratchett).
And so we begin,
Right I won't bother with ranting, I shall just briefly record the less dull moments of the last couple of months.
Big Pussy:-
A ha, a ha ha ha.
While wandering around a pretty sizeable Oxfordshire estate recently, in my capacity as a heritage shiriff, I was amazed by the lack of rabbits in the long barrows which are now in deep woodland. I was further amazed when a black panther ran out from behind trees 30yds in front of me and shot off down slope. The reason I know it was a black panther is that I phoned the estate office to report said beast, and they were delighted as no-one had seen it for 3 years and they feared it was dead, I was just rather please that I wasn't. When I 'phoned the estate office, I said:-
"this thing isn't going to eat me is it?",
To which the lady replied "erm......well, there's no reports of it actually attacking anybody".
Resisting the erge to scream "THAT'S BECAUSE THEY'RE DEAD YOU FOOL". I was terribly British and said "oh, thats ok then , would you mind if I continued my survey?" and didnt leave those woods for another 2 hours. I did arm myself with a big stick, but I suspect the reason the fella ran off in the first place was because he thought I was too much of a meal and couldn't handle the indigestion.
Spirited Night in the Green Dragon:-
Oh Dear.
After a Saturday night of significant liquid refreshment at the Prancing Pony, and other establishments in Bree. M'Shoogie and me decided to opt for a quiet BPOTW (Best Pint of The Week - for those not in the know) on Sunday lunchtime at the Green Dragon. 'Good plan' one originally thought until one had put away more than one or two, and one of our British Isles Brethren brought forth a bottle of Poceen, at the same time as our uncle-fester-looky-likey-smiley-landlordy-chap brought forth the black Sambuca.
What a beautifully surreal afternoon, we lost Fred early, he sloped off after a couple of poceen tumblers and a Sambuca, less coherent than usual. Jimmy had to be helped across the Great West Road at about 8 o'clock. Then Shoogs went for his guitar, I went for the Upton Cider, and we offended the neighbours for about an hour and a half before Uncle Fester drove his car into the garden (via the walnut tree and two picnic tables) so we could listen to the stereo.
I didnt get up until tuesday.
Well, Whose idea was it to mix Black Sambuca and Poceen in a tumbler and neck it?! (Don't try this at home kids).
The People's Republic of West Hendred:-
Right on Brothers.
It was decided this afternoon (BPOTW 18/06/06) to establish an independant state, loyal to the crown, to rule the noble and sacred lands of West Hendred.
Old Sam is to be El Presidente, guided by a council of twelve good men and true (corrupt alchoholics), at the parliament / West Hendy Assembly, to be held in the government buildings (The Green Dragon) once a week. No-one may speak until they have consumed AT LEAST one bottle of Grouse (nappies optional).
We will survive by selling wind-power, generated on the Downs, to the inbred mutants in East Hendred. We will also send in the SBS (Special Bailing Squad) , who have been training hard for the last few years, to steal our neighbours harvests.
We will be part of the United Kingdom, but not part of the European Union.
Our borders will be rigourously patrolled by Richard and his dog Scamp. All illegal aliens will have their ships impounded and be forced to listen to Richard's jokes.
I'm Drunk Now Good Night.
Dan
