*Bob*

If they don't come from the Captain's Table, count me out. Don't take my word for it - look at this scientific poll

SeanMacGabhann Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > we could hve ???? at the local shock-jock Don't forget Louisa's Rose-Tinted Golden Oldies Show

There's something for everyone here, Louisa. You've still got Poundland at AJ Farmers, Iceland for your Ross fish fingers and Prawn Cocktail at Eric and Margarets when you deserve a treat. There's no need to feel excluded.

Fortunately, Lewisham is only a bus ride away "Stick a pony in my pocket I'll fetch the suitcase from the van" etc

If there's a hosepipe ban, then all the cats in SE22 will gather together, descend on mine and Bob S's garden and poo left right and centre.

Bob S In answer to your question, I don't know anyone who's tried it and yes, ?54 is a lot of cash. I believe Mr Alan Dale has also mentioned the device in question some time ago and was thinking about it - as The *Bobs* have been for some time. Perhaps he has made a purchase and can report back. I did speak to the manufacturer and have looked at the demo videos etc, and it does look like the only thing that will be a full-time guard against cat and fox cack. They seemed very confident. A cat will trigger the sensor.. the sprinkler fires a burst over around a 60 degree arc so can cover a fair amount of garden (certainly enough for most gardens round here) so providing you put it in the right spot, I can't see how it won't do the job - at least keep them away from the bits you really want them kept away from. And you can move it around if they change their route through your garden. Connecting it up to the hose (and disconnecting for other use) plus turning it off when you want to use the garden might be an arse, but then so is cleaning cack out of your shoe tread with a twig when you really want to be sitting in the garden. We're still thinking about it. It depends how much cat and fox cack gets trod in and how many tantrums I have, I suppose.

It's just a phase they're going through. Enforce regular church attendance, administer daily beatings and keep going until a deep feeling of shame is ingrained. That should do the trick.

It isn't difficult to live on benefits for a week. The difficult bit is having lived on benefits last week, living on benefits this week, and knowing that next week.. and the week after that.. you'll be living on benefits. Having the odd power cut and getting the candles out is a bit of fun, but it's no fun for three months. Regarding abuse of the benefits system: there's a difference between abusing the system in order to stay in it and abusing the system in order to get out of it.

Cat's don't like being squirted with water. Cats remember when and where they've been squirted with water and learn from it. Being squirted with water doesn't hurt. Having a machine that saves you having to sit-up all night waiting for cats to come past so you can squirt them with water is a great idea. There's another old saying along the lines of "f**King ba**ard I've trodden in another f**king cat Sh*t and now I've got to spend the next half an hour trying to wash putrid faeces out of the tread of my trainers"

There's nothing wrong with any of the stalls on offer at the moment (good luck to 'em), but they're obviously targeted at a certain demographic (jars of jam for ?5.. gold plating on the underside of the lid, I assume?.. high definition photographs on SE22 taken from above with magnifying glass provided - so you can check if your garden is bigger than the one next door.. baby bibs at ten pounds a pop.. junk furniture rebranded as modern classics..) but it's too small and always the same. It cheers-up Saturday and gives the place a nice feel but it feels a bit like Groundhog Day every time I go down there.

Don't forget to factor-in the cash-in-hand job on a building site / as a glass collector / window cleaner etc - just to make sure it's truly realistic.

Get one of these little gadgets. Works off a battery, motion sensor activated: each time a moggy, fox, etc goes through your garden it delivers a wide-angle sprinkling of water - straight between the eyes, day or night. ?54. Job done.

There was certainly something strangely alluring about the old panel system of scoring: a bunch of greying middle-aged oddballs drinking sherry, debating chord structures and then voting for the same country as last year. But at least with the advent of the public vote, one of the best three songs usually tends to win. 'You can't fool the general public' as Pete Waterman once said, without a hint of irony.

It's not right listening to the entries before The Big Day.. apart from your own, of course. Better to save it up and let the magic wash over you for the first time on the night itself.

Mrs *Bob* keeps complaining about me spending too much time on the computer and of 'having moths in her box'. Is this related to the ED moth problem, or something else?

Wikipedia doesn't say anything about him not having a neck, does it?

Unfortunately the British obsession with being too pansy-assed to complain in public ("It's fine - thank you") is now accompanied by an equal desire to complain (anonymously) as soon as they're out of the door and on the laptop.

BJL Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- Beats the drab, dull and boring White > Stuff ("lovely clothes for lovely people", > indeed). Surely you mean "oversized clothes for overweight people". The Weight Stuff.

Even I watched this. My observations: Alex F was clearly the more experienced manager, being as he was sensible enough to put his anorak on when it was raining. Chelsea's goalie was wearing an outfit fashioned from radioactive fabric, visible from outer space. When you've just lost a big match, there's no way to wear a medal without it looking really, really silly.

Did anybody else send her packing?

Careful, suzilucy.. Brendan's a furriner. An import. Not to be trusted. Our women indeed. The cheek.

Rules regarding restaurant critique are fairly straightforward here, Alan. Established restaurants are not as good as they used to be. New restaurants are not as good as established restaurants, unless (see above) Little-known restaurants serve the best food around - until other people start going - then they go downhill.

Loving your posts, Libra. Ahh.. BROMLEY.. land of the, er, well.. Don't take it from me.. take it from 'Princess Candz', of 'The Bromley Crew': "OMG why the f*ck is becky in the fuckin bromley crew she anit even bin in bromley 4 as long as we have i dnt give a shit if liam is goin out with her or if she has bin here for 1 yr or how eva long it is ??*?* soz but i jst sayin wot i think and i dnt thing she shud b in the b crew sorri ? ? ? ? ? byee love ya kc josh maz megs and becks and kirsty ? ? ? ? ?"

Me, obviously. Though I feel selecting 'Andy the bin man' was a poor move. He's like Lighthouse Family but without the rock-and-roll wow factor. And his song is akin to drinking lukewarm tea at Gatwick after your flight's been delayed. We should have gone with Simona Wotsit. She would have been in with a half-decent chance.

Mrs *Bob* is an abysmal cook - possibly the worst of the lot. Me, on the other hand? Weeell.. my spinach and mascarpone gnocchi with red pepper and chilli puree are pretty darned good. All I have to do now is pluck-up the courage to tell her I'm gay.