HonaloochieB

Ted Max Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Hona Cheebee, that is reall scary. I'm in here on > my own doing the night shift and I'm now worrying > aobut blakc holes, dark energy, a breakdown in teh > concept of linear time and so on. If nothing > happens in Brixton, do you tihnkt hat means that > something euqal and opposite must be hapening > somewhere else? Dalston, maybe? Dalston is somewhere near Ridley Road Market, unless I'm much mistaken. Much. Sit in front of a mirror, stroke your imaginary moustache and say the word 'Dalston' 60 times and your Freedom pass flashes before you. But you mention the concept of linear time, how odd, it's almost as if you knew. I had a few people round for a seance this evening, and who should pop up but my great-grandfather. We asked for a message and he told us "Linear time? I'll linear time the seat of your pants with the toe of my boot" I know as a hard-nosed newsman you'll possibly raise an eyebrow, but you could flog it on to Lorraine Kelly for her column. What with her being a div and all.

But I hear he's unembittered. Liver let live is his motto. Snigger.

And as well EDO, his impetuosity didn't help, apparently there was no one rasher than he. Chuckle.

Alone Again Naturally - Gilbert O'Sullivan

EDOldie Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > That Italian butcher was also at Moens in Clapham. > Looks like he got the chop from both of them. EDO, I heard it was for trying to sell meat pasta sell by date. Chortle.

That's what I'd be OK with on a longer term basis JTC, but I think the DM is perhaps a more 'seat of pants' operation than the EDF. The DM is not a place that I've patronised very much apart from when it first opened, but I like it being around. And I like the discount, free entry and badge proposition. Particularly the badge.

Flapjack Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > I too have had rude service from them and have, as > a result, used them much less over the last year. > > Last Christmas (2007) I ordered a capon, to be > collected a week before Christmas. I was a regular > customer and would go in there at least once a > week, so they knew my face. I sent my husband to > collect said bird and he was sent home with a > turkey. I went back with the turkey, on a Saturday > and was told by the main guy that I was wrong and > I had definitely ordered a turkey. Now I wouldn't > mind but a capon is a pretty specific thing to > order - and to make matters worse he loudly > started telling me what a capon is and > sarcastically asking the lady who took the order > "would you have written a turkey if a customer had > ordered a turkey" etc. I was mortified and > furious and I now only go back if I really have > to. Shame, as most of the staff are pleasant but > the best Italian butcher there left a while ago > now. > And the animals looked at Flapjack, then looked at Ted Max and saw they had become one and the same.

Or if you could get The Clash's 48 Hours to play at half speed... Sorry, now I'm just having a Turkish. Be seeing you.

Dream Machine, not making light of the situation, but if you were to put Gene Pitney's 24 Hours From Tulsa on a loop for the next trading days so that people going past would be reminded of what's going on I think it might help. Seriously. I'll be seeing you.

*Bob* Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Chickens do come in different sizes, you know. Of course they do *Bob*, and well done to you for taking the emphasis off the size of the cocks. There's been far too much of it lately and I for one am feeling the strain.

When I first passed the Saturday queue, I assumed there was a sale on, a kind of indoor version of the meat raffles one used to find in pub carparks. I like a lamb chop as much as the next man, and my admiration for pretty much every bit of Brer pig has been a constant in my life. But I couldn't see myself queuing outside a shop like that on a freezing Saturday, even if uncomplicated no-strings sexual intercourse was on offer. Unless there was a bacon sandwich involved.

beef Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Does this mean I've won and the Flaming Carrot > really is the number one super hero? Can I have > my no-prize? Oh Beef, if you're after a no-prize, you're fooling no one. Your heart is in the Stan Lee Bull Pen and you know it. Embrace your inner Spiderman. Proper he was.

Peckhamgatecrasher Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Fear not, Hugenot, lions will be lying down with > lambs in Heaven. But the lambs won't get much sleep. A shiny sixpence and a kiss on the nose for the first forumite to give me the origin of that. It's OK, SM just brought Black Francis into the debate, so things are opening out.

Well I'm back TM, and though I was out in Brixton for a good while today, nothing happened. I don't just mean nothing of note, I mean nothing at all. At the time, not having a journalistic eye for these matters I didn't think much of it. But on reflection it seems a bit rum.

Hello Elaine What's the procedure? If a fellow wanted to become a Dreamer, how should he go about it?

Leave Me Alone - Ian Hunter

Ted Max Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Hona Cheebee, your story is so long man. My news > edotir says you prpbably type in green ink. This > is a bit before my tie though, as I use compueters > only now. What sdoe he mean? You really shouldn't allow your editor access to the drinks cabinet TM, he's plainly drunk as a judge. The green ink remark shows he's getting me confused with the head of the John Lewis chain, the fool. If I was I would have opened a Waitrose in ED long ago. But I beg you not to take this as a suggestion for a campaign. Yes I realise the story went on a bit, but Kevin was a bit exercised and insisted on recounting the entire incident. I'm going out in a while and shall keep my eyes peeled and my ear to the ground.

Dead Ringer For Love - Meat Loaf or is it Meatloaf, I know he gets exercised about it. Early start or late finish this morning, Giggirl? Ah, just spotted your other thread, all is now clear. Edited for a second time as I just spotted that I had typed Dead Rinder For Love, which I quite like the sound of.

Tony.London Suburbs Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > What is it about "Born-Again" Christians that make > you wish they had never been born in the first > place? But wasn't Jesus himself 'barn' again? Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I'm here for the next two thousand years, remember be good to the innkeeper and go forth and multiply safely.

HonaloochieB Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Wimpy bar... Actually, changed my mind. I'd go further and say take your Wimpy bar and put it up your bottom as far as throat level. Right now, Nando's take-away, late night. And local delivery.

Peckhamgatecrasher Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Super, Jah - I'm available next Friday for a spot > of luncheon. Good idea, PGC, well done for putting yourself forward as chaperone. I bet those two young women breating sighs of relief.

TM, I know you may have 'put the paper to bed' now but I'd like you to consider this account from my associate 'Trustworthy' Kevin. He was sitting downstairs on the 185. You know that seat on the left (that's your left if you're sitting at the back of the bus, but your right as you're getting on), past the driver, right behind that bulkhead where people leave their shopping and other possessions. He took his place on the aisle seat next to a heavy-set White fellow dressed in a large dark coat, with a black fedora pulled low over his eyes. Kevin noted that there was evidence that someone in the area (and Kevin is both srupulously fair and acquainted with the libel laws, so if the gentleman in question is reading this, it does not (necessarily) refer to you) had recently produced flatus. The fellow was engrossed in a magazine. As he sat Kevin inadvertently placed himself on the skirt of the fellows coat. Naturally he shifted his weight to allow his travelling companion to retrieve his garment, but with barely a glance in his direction the man continued perusing his magazine. Kevin nodded, looked away and then gave a double-take worthy of Oliver Hardy when he realised the magazine was a brand-new looking copy of 'June And School Friend', he thinks the date was 1967. Somewhat rattled he opened his own magazine (Somerfield giveaway if that's important) and was soon whisked away on an imaginary spending spree of discount vouchers. As the bus broached the top of Dog Kennel Hill, the driver drove his heel suddenly onto the brake pedal just to jerk his passengers out of their sense of complacency and to see to it they wouldn't be lapsing into a comfort zone if he (Ronnie Featherstonehaugh) had anything to do with it. It was then that Kevin noticed the slightly hunched female figure with her back to him. Her faded tweed coat, fingerless gloves, numerous bags and uncertain balance all informed Kevin that here was someone whose need of a seat was greater than his. It was the work of a moment for him to spring to his feet, politely tap her shoulder and utter the words 'Take a seat, luv'. She turned away from him with a muttered 'thanks' and took the seat. Kevin taking pity on the old woman (and knowing it wouldn't cost him anything) proferred his copy of the Somerfield magazine, at which the recipient of his largesse gave a tart "Sod off" Kevin looked, rubbed his eyes (again reminiscent of the late Oliver Hardy) and found himself looking into the clear eyes and unblemished, unwrinkled complexion of... FEARNE COTTON. Straight away he denouneunced her as a fraud and demanded his seat back. She cool as some cucumbers, reached into one of her bags and retrieved an open can of Special Brew which she proceeded to chug-a-lug. Kevin informed the driver that there was an illegal act taking place. The driver radiod his control centre for advice and was patched through direct to the mayor. The whole of the lower deck heard those familiar fruity tones instruct the driver "Look, old top, hang a quick left at Northcross, go see Daz at Panther and tell him to pour her in a cab to mine. You get any objections reversing back onto Lordship Lane, tell 'em Boz said it's cool" Kevin reckons that the line to take on this one, is the driver using his radio while the bus was in motion. He points out that current Human Rights legislation means that anyone holding a driving licence can be fined for just playing Tetris on their mobile phone while under the duvet in their spare bedroom. This might have the makings of a campaign as well. Come on, let's get this juggernaut up and running I wonder if Jon Gaunty-Gaunt or Carole 'Mal' One might want to throw their weight in front of it?

What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us Just a stranger on the bus Trying to make his way home So the Atheist bus thread? Big Bad Wolf's twatting the unruly kid on the bus thread? Ted Max's Locale Reporteur thread? The lyrics of Joan Osborne? ALL JOINING HERE TOGETHER PRECISELY AT THIS MOMENT. There's some who'd 'rationalise' this away as coincidence. But those of us who aren't hopelessly anchored to rationality believe there is a bigger hand at work here, and no, I don't refer to the 'cuffing spanner' on the end of Big Bad Wolf's arm. And has noone noticed that RICHARD DAWKINS is an anagram of RD SAID RICH W@NK. It makes you want to give yourself up to a hire power, doesn't it? Edited becuase a higher power would not allow me a 'w@nk'.

CYPRIOT TURK Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > HonaloochieB Wrote: > -------------------------------------------------- > ----- > > Hello and welcome CT. > > You obviously didn't get karter. > > I'll do my best to get a photo of him to you, > so > > that if he is ever in your ward you can do that > > whole > > > replacing-the-rectal-thermometer-with-a-daffodil-u > > > p-the-arse that they did to James > > Robertson-Justice in that film. > > I doubt Karter would be on my ward, as i am a > gynaecology nurse. LOL > But you never know. :) So you'd be in a better position than most to tell him to stop acting the...you know maybe sometimes it's best to emulate the British Charles Bronson and just not finish a sentence.

I don't know TLS, some raspberries can be quite lairy. That Ian Dury, flash as you like and the language out of him. I'll never forget my mum's face when I played 'Plaistow Patricia' at my dad's funeral. He wanted locking up, he really did.