Ashes To Ashes.

Having lived for months in dread and horror at the prospect of not being allowed to smoke in the pub any more, I now feel quite the fool and am getting the idea that this ban is actually the 'breath of fresh air' that the pub trade has needed for some time, now!
So long as the weather holds out, that is.
Last night reminded me of The Queen's Silver Jubilee, with people spilling out onto the street and mixing with all and sundry that happened by. And, as expected, quite a few of the non-smokers were out there too, their only other choice being to be stuck inside with the bores and cowards that simply don't have the gumption to enjoy a fag (I could show them a few things there)!

I think I may go shopping for my winter coat now, before all the nice ones get snapped up. I've a feeling that coat manufacturers are going to have a bumper year, this year.

Jobs for unwanted barstaff?

A Month In Crinkley Bottom.

Has it really been a whole month since my last post? I was going to say 'entry', but that certainly wouldn't be true! Mind you, 'post' would be a bit of a grey area (more about that, shortly) too, coming to think of it.
Any-old-road, I met this, erm, older gentleman from London, last month, and have spent a little time at his place, in his company and that of a few of his stockbroker friends.
Quite an eye-opener, if you'll pardon the pun.
It simply hadn't ever occured to me that people in 'high stress' jobs would, naturally, make very interesting bed companions. Well, involuntary twitching of the sphincter need not neccesarily be a handicap in all walks of life.
And I must confess my surprise at discovering that he was 74 years old. I thought he was in his 80's, going by his appalling state of decay!
Still, he had a few beans to chuck around and I've been curious about that kind of lifestyle since hearing Eastcliff Richard constantly gloating and banging on about it, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.
Rather enjoyed it, I must say!
Though I have put on two stone in weight and developed an aversion to dried prunes, on the strength that they remind me of the poor old fella's somewhat knarly pair of knackers.

The things we'll do for money, eh?

Compromised Principals Syndrome (CPS).

Refreshing to see that even the World of Blog is not immune from our ever growing (out of control, like a cancer and so on...) litigation culture, with threats of legal action being bandied about like seagull poo, at the moment.
And people seem so proud that they currently have this weapon of ultimate defence/attack at their disposal. They also seem quite proud that the house they bought in 1995 for £50,000 is now worth over £200,000.
Why?
Because the same people that instigated all of this (solicitors, estate agents, building societies, government), stand to make heaps of cash out of it, so it's been 'sold' to us as the way forward?
Surely not, you say!
Well I, for one, don't believe that it has as much to do with improving my quality of life, as theirs.

And besides, what use would a World, where everyone has had their arses sued off, be to me?!

Raiding Party.

Not normally one for turning up anywhere, uninvited (except, maybe, ECR's blog, but I don't think he minds as much as he makes out), I found myself tagging along with a handfull of revellers to a party they were going to, in Ramsgate, last night.
I thought I'd inadvertently stumbled across Narnia, when I got there.
As it turned out, it was a fancy dress party with a 1940's theme.
I've been to a few of those, in Birchington, but they call them Nostalgia Parties, here.
Anyway, to cut a short story, long, I met this lovely young stud called Jamie who was wearing the most stunning hat, and I think I may be in love!
I also met, oddly enough, a collection of some of the tallest people I'd ever seen in one place.

I think I may also still be a bit pissed!

That Ramsgate, it seems, is quite a fun place to be and I really think it's time to haul my cute ass over to visit some of their estate agents.

Going Under Cover!

What with all this publicity that I've been getting of late, winning an award in a semi-national paper (some of them get recycled in Bradford) and being sued for libel by Canadian lawyers, I think I may have to disguise myself a little better, as I don't think that sunglasses will cut it now that the heat is on.
So, let's hope that this does the trick!

Up To My Balls In A Dyke.

As happens, from time to time, this week saw me going on a huge bender (not for the first time, though I'm not condoning obesity) and ending up lodged in a muddy crevice (no stranger to that, either).
One of those things that starts off gently enough, as a couple of drinks with a few friends, and then goes on and on and on. And as we all know, I'm sure, it's going to end up with someone looking pretty stupid (usually me) but the booze kinda negates the worry of that.
And I know it may seem like 'closing the door after the horse has bolted' but I think I'll be shunting off to our local fishing tackle shop today, to invest in a pair of waders, should I decide to shortcut through the countryside, pissed, on future occasions. They could come in useful for some of the messier encounters with 'friends', that also happen from time to time, to boot (pun intended)!

Right, where's that bloody Alka Selzer?

Stumped Bailes!

As a few of you have astutely pointed out, there is a possibility that I may be related to another blogger who lives quite close to me. In fact, were any of you to take the trouble of venturing over to this side of the island, you may even discover that the plot is a tad thicker than that!
Ashamed as I am to admit it, inbreeding has been quietly prevalent in these parts for many years.
Anyone that has any doubts about that need only pop up here, after the pubs chuck out, to witness The Half-Brother Army kicking the crap out of everything and the bemused yelps of disappointment when tin, scrumpy cider and other precious things are not given forth in response.
So it came as no surprise to me when The Andrex Times completely overlooked this, as it's my firm belief that their entire staff is similarly blighted and, therefore, unable to spot that anything may be amiss.

I can't help thinking that if everyone were a bit more like me, we could prevent this horror from being passed on to the next generation!