Pub news!

I have a problem. No, not a medical problem. (Although a few would beg to differ!)

You see, there is a Judas in the pub. Someone so low as to sell his mate down the river to avoid a beating!

Di asked me today when her "friend" Keith was coming in! I was aghast, how could he? The traitor!

What has the 'orrible crawler been saying? I shudder to think. My stomach turned when she said "my friend". Two weeks ago she was going to kill him!

Sunday will be interesting!

PS, It's 9 years today since I got squashed! How time flies!!

Pub news!

Trigger, as you may know was made redundant recently. He was reading an advert in a local free paper that we get when he announced that he had found the ideal job for him.

A gymnastics coach!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!

Joke Tuesday.

A NEW USE FOR BOTTOMS!

A blonde walks into a pharmacy and asks the assistant for some bottom deodorant. The pharmacist, a little bemused, explains to the woman that they don't sell bottom deodorant, and never have.

Unfazed, the blonde assures the pharmacist that she has being buying it from this branch on a regular basis and would like some more. "I'm sorry," says the pharmacist, "We don't have any."

"But I always get it here," says the blonde.

"Do you have the container it comes in?"

"Yes!" says the blonde, and pops off to get it.

She returns with the container and hands it to the chemist who says to her, "This is just a normal stick of underarm deodorant."

The annoyed blonde snatches the container back and reads out loud from the container,





















"To apply, push up bottom."

John gets a well deserved bashing (again!)

There were not many people at "our" table today, just John G, Nikki, Nigel and myself, although the pub was crowded as usual.

I think it's the excellent free food that our most beautiful sexy landlady, Di, lays on that attracts the customers on Sunday lunchtimes.

I always have a few dog biscuits in my pocket in case Nikki brings her mutt "Monty" in, or there are any other dogs in the pub. I like to make friends with them just in case they go into attack mode. That way I know that being their friend I'm safe.

Di (looking as radiant as ever) came out from the kitchen with some food to put on the counter and "Sam", a black labrador was sitting nearby so she gave him a bit of fuss and I slid a dog biscuit across the table for her to give to him. As she picked it up a voice from behind said "No Di, that's for you". She whipped round, and glaring at me said, "Who said that?", and as quick as a flash I pointed to John and said "I cannot tell a lie, it was him in the wheelchair!".

She went up to him and give him a smack round the head. Twice. No, I tell a lie; it was three times. As he reeled back recovering from the blows, our lovely barmaid "Charley", who was standing behind him, also gave him a good smacking!

Ah well, it's all part of lifes rich pageant, innit? Never a dull moment at the "Merrie Monk".

The things you see when you haven't got a camera handy is unbelievable.

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

P.S.> It really was John who made the remark, so I don't feel guilty! *snigger*

Pub news.

This place gets worse! First it was Trigger (it was he who prompted me to start this blog). Then Di, our ever-so-lovely soaker landlady took over. Together with her better other half, Jez, they have made a real go of it!

However, small slip-ups come to my attention from time to time every day.

Remember these? Well, they have vanished again!

"Jez, can I borrow your car keys? I put mine in a safe place so I could find them. But I can't remember where!"

The headline is irrelevant, I just wanted the papers' header.

One of the local lads is out of work and had been given a tip for a job being advertised in the local rag paper.

"Di, have you got last night's Mercury?"

"What do you want?" She asked.

A phone number for a job interview."

"What's the number, I'll have a look."

Incredulous look.

"I don't know, that's why I want the paper!"

Then, to cap it all, we have Charly, the lovely barmaid.(This is great!)

Guinea Fowl, one of the tastiest birds you can eat! We were discussing there culinary merits, when Charly asked what they were. They are birds Charly.

Roast Guinea Fowl, It doesn't come much better than this. But then Charly was a bit confused.

You see, Charly thought Guinea Fowl were posh Guinea pigs! An easy mistake anyone can make!

I bet she didn't reckon on seeing the cuddly little blighters spatchcocked!!

You've got to love this pub. There is no way anyone could make this up!

Joke Tueaday.

This is from my friend from Scotchland, Mr. Farty. Thanks, Mr. F!

Frank Feldman...

A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, 'Perfect timing. You're just like Frank'

Passenger: 'Who?'

Cabbie: 'Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time.'

Passenger: 'There are always a few clouds over everybody.'

Cabbie: 'Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy.'

Passenger: 'Sounds like he was something really special.'

Cabbie: 'There's more... He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right'

Passenger: 'Wow, some guy then.'

Cabbie: 'He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too - He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.'

Passenger: 'An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?'

















Cabbie: 'Well, I never actually met Frank, he died. I married his fucking widow.'

Pub news.

It's a strange pub, this one (you may have gathered), insomuch that it is a truly country, booze only pub. Apart from Sunday lunch time, when assorted locals bring varoius things, usually homemade, in for all to try. We've had all sorts over the years. Squirrel pate, smoked pigeon, smoked trout, assorted curries, the list is endless. What a select few really like is hot, spicey food. Today, however, everything had been bought.

Pickled garlic, surprisingly sweet.

Anchovies. Not to my liking, too salty, but they went down well with the others!

Pickled chillies. The local lads, well, most of them can handle this stuff. Apart from Pete the builder who is a wimp, but gullible."They aren't hot", said The Poacher. "These are the green, sweet chillies." He tried one.

"You b*atards!" Splutter, cough, splutter. Lager is pouring down Pete's throat in a vain attempt to ease the burning. This makes it worse. You need milk or yoghurt to cool chilli heat!

Jez has tried all of the above with no problem when Di, our ever-so-lovely soaker landlady comes in with the Chipolatta sausages, sausage rolls, roast potatoes, ham sandwiches,etc.

"Try this Di." Says The Poacher, offering her the pickled garlic. "No thanks", She says. "What about an anchovy?" He asks. "UGH,no!" She exclaims. "Try a sweet chilli," He says, "They aren't hot." Di takes a bite, chews, and..."Oh, you B*stard, Oh sh*t, Charly, coke, quick!" Bad move! By now we are all p*ssing ourselves with laughter.

Did I try any of it? PERLEASE! I've known these buggers for far too long!

The moral of this tale is, DON'T TRUST ANYONE IN HERE WHEN THEY SAY IT ISN'T HOT!!!

Pub news.

I have been given permission from the idiot man himself to publish this post. Trigger was made redundant yesterday after thirteen years of work with the same company. Naturally we all expressed our disappointment for him, but there are two ways to look at this.

Firstly, I get more material for my blog, which, in turn keeps you all amused.

Secondly, I have to put up with the pillock seven days a week!

As you can tell from the photo, he's not far off retirement, and after only one day is easing into his new role as Di's tormenter-in-chief!

Welcome to the bone idle club TRIGGER!

He did ask me to mention that he is now available as a male escort for a pint reasonable price.

This advert has been placed free of charge for obvious reasons!

Oh, by the way, Di found her glasses.......on top of the T.V.!

Pub news.

Di has lost her glasses again, and, as she can't see anything to find them there has been a major search on. I have a couple of ideas to stop her losing them, the first being this.

A good quality staple gun. One over each spectacle arm, straight in the temple should keep them firmly in place!

The second idea might be the more suitable.

The neck chain seems the perfect solution,until she takes them off............DAMN! Back to the first idea!

Unless you have other ideas?

Joke Tuesday.

A man enters a confessional and says to the Irish priest,"Father, it has been one month since my last confession and I've sinned with Fannie Green every week for the last month."

The priest tells him,"You are forgiven. Go out and say three Hail Marys'."

Soon, another man comes in for confession. "Father, it has been two months since my last confession. I have sinned with Fannie Green twice a week for the last two months."

This time the priest asks who Fannie Green is. "A new woman in the neighbourhood," replied the sinner. "Very well," says the priest. "Go and say ten Hail Marys'."

The next morning in church, the priest is preparing to deliver his sermon when a tall, gorgeous woman walks in. All male eyes fall on her as she slowly walks down the aisle and sits down in front of the altar.

Her dress is green and very short, with matching shiny emerald-green shoes. The priest and the altar boy gasp as she sits down with her legs slightly spread, Sharon Stone style.

The priest whispers to the altar boy,"Is that Fannie Green?"

The altar boy replies,"No, I think it's the reflection off her shoes!"