Wednesday

The Last Supper




Time was, a wholly incurable couple of ne'er do wells, such as myself and Mr. Stewart, late of Limerick, Ireland, could hirple aimlessly along the street, admittedly rather lackadaisical and seemingly self-whimsical thanks to the earlier fullness of a fine malt lunch in the company of our other very good friend and loyal companion, Mr. Laphroaig. Our midday constitutional usually took us in the direction of the Stags Head in Crieff for another solid and uninterrupted refreshment until the hour of 8.15, whence my old friend Mr. Stewart would sadly depart on the early evening train for central Glasgow, then a short connection by way of the airport, to his home on the darker side of the moon. A somewhat laissez-faire lifestyle, if you will, but why not? Misery abound, many nights have since been spent repairing my shredded soul in readiness for the afterlife, should there be one. I have since found that the burden of guilt coupled with my current bout of insomnia is indeed a poor bedfellow. Not content with tormenting me by way of a dripping bladder, my brain, so often idle and  fixed in a postmortem rigidity, mainly due to the black toasted hoppiness of many misspent moments over the years, has decided to lament in regard to my memory bank.

After being dispatched forthwith to collect fresh eggs for the breakfast table recently one morning, I was rather bemused to find myself, still in my slippers and robe, passing the time of day with the postman, of whom I had apparently bushwhacked, on his bicycle, outside of my nearest neighbours cottage, at No 43. Although troubled with one or two current local issues, I can find no particular reason as to why I should have to be recovered, shuffling morosely, from the damp bleakness of a chill November morning, by my somewhat confounded spouse. It was no surprise to find that a short time later a doctors appointment soon loomed, my attendance was assured by the escorting presence of my eldest son propelling me forward when my name was called. After a brief cranial examination, not to mention an informal chat about my ancient warrior facial disfigurements, or history markers as I now refer to them, I was in turn referred. Weeks later, the papers are now in. It's official. It was decided that I am in the early, but steadily increasing, stages of possible dementia. Somewhat perturbed, I am yet to reach the age of 50, I spent the remainder of today locked in my study recording several bequests to local charities, long standing friends and of course my loving family, who have been camped unceremoniously outside of the door in case I leap from a window or jump from a chair while wearing a hessian necktie. No need, I am reliably informed that soon my hands will become discophoran, soon to spread to my feet and imprison me to a slumberous utopia in the upstairs guest bedroom. It has a lower seating position in the loo. Such coincidence all those years ago during the intricate reconstruction? Who knows, my mind once worked in mysterious ways.

Whilst my mind is still in an upright unaided position, I would like to reassure those serried loyal who continue to venture here to my topsy-turvy proscenium, that the foreseeable long term prognosis is that I am royally fucked. However, until a time arrives when I can no longer wipe my own bottom, blow my rather flat nose and lift a glass to my increasingly dry mouth, I shall continue to pound the keys for my own enjoyment, if not always yours. I do hope that you will continue to endure me.


Lobsterbotomy Supreme on Fresh Bread

1 freshly caught lobster
8oz dried dill seeds
4 oz fennel seeds
1/4 cup coarse sea salt
1 white onion cut into small pieces
2 chilled cans of English bitter

Mix the dill seeds, fennel and salt, plus the onion and the bitter into a large lobster pot with fresh water. Bring to a boil, simmer for 10 minutes before you add our friend the lobster. Continue to boil for 7-8 minutes and then turn off the heat. Leave the lobster to steep overnight until the water is room temperature. Remove the beast from the pot and put into a flat bowl with some of the juices. Cover with clingfilm and chill for approx 4 hours. Cut the lobster in half, length-wise, remove the stomach and of course de-vein. Crack the claws, serve in a large bowl with a green salad and warm fresh toasted sourdough bread. To accompany the meal, chilled white wine or champagne.

110 comments:

  1. fuck. raising a glass of scotch to the east tonight. long may you run, jimmy...

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    1. Aye hen, I'll take that toast and spit right in the divils eye, so I will. It'll take more than a few missing grey cells to make me fret!

      ... sorry, I've lost concentration here. Who am I again? Why am I knee deep in water and why are all these strange people telling me not to drop the extension lead from the pond lights into the water?

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    2. A little electricity, applied properly, can do wonders! If you do make it into my neck of the woods on your wanderings, please assure Siobhan that i will take good care of you and eventually see that you are returned home safe and sound. Probably hungover and spent, but safe and sound....

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    3. I was thinking of making it into somewhere considerably lower than your neck, my wee princess, however the woods will suffice to start with. Hungover and spent sounds interesting indeed. Are we backpacking or am I finally to use my snorkel as we explore my pending excursion deeply into Daisyville?

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  2. You write "stages of possible of dementia". Does "possible" include "maybe not"? I hope so.

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    1. Mr. Earl, for possible, read definite. It is what it is. Of course, doctors have been known to be wrong, but if I accept it then anything else is a bonus on the way up. Time will tell.

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  3. I've endured you this long, I'll not give up on you now.

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    1. My friend, when I lost my brother so tragically not so very long ago, you stepped up and filled the void. Endure me for as long as you possibly can.

      ...because when I'm dead I'm gonnae come back and haunt you like there is no tomorrow! I'm kinda looking forward to it already.

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  4. Dementia doesn't stand a chance...

    You wouldn't or possibly might believe all the hideous prognoses announced by the medical fraternity to my husband when first ill over thirty years ago....but he's still here.
    Dodgy on his paralysed feet, things dropping through his paralysed hands, he's still bashing on because he won't be beaten.
    Any more then you will.

    And we'll have to sod off on the bus to Nicaragua to get a decent lobster, and the beer will have to be Tonia but for that recipe it's worth it.

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    1. The blood of the indignant flows through many veins Helen, plenty of time for laying down when we are snuffed from the great candle of life. But, until then, I'll battle on with a drink in my hand and the scornful look in my eye every single time I am written off.

      Compañia Cervecera, actually shows up here on occasion, but more so in Espana, where it is appreciated by the tourists looking for cheap swill.

      But hey, any port in a storm, right?

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  5. No joke here. Just a hug. (Um, if the wee man will kindly pass me the kitchen stool).

    Working with the soldiers means I've done lots of reading on TBI (traumatic brain injury) which doctors now understand includes football concussions and any other serious knocks to the noggin. Could this perhaps be a factor due to um, a previous lifestyle, more so than dementia? (Because you are awful young for that).

    At any rate, I'd say you have absolutely no hope of getting rid of most of us. :) I'm ready to listen anytime you want to take us down Memory Lane...or around a new corner. I like listening. It's interesting and educational. And let's face it, to me, you're vastly more interesting than I am. ;)

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    1. Hahaha... excuse my laughter my dear, you are only saying out loud what many are already thinking. I cannot deny that coming from you I am delighted that I do not have to start the ball rolling, so to speak, in regard to my previous lifestyle. I have memory loss and supposed lapses in concentration. Sometime I forget what I am saying and stray into a completely different subject without realising it. Anyway, like I was saying, it took a whole week to completely clear the grounds of fallen leaves and of course you may sample the sherry trifle.

      Bless you...

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  6. sweet mary sunshine, sugar! i am speechless, but rest assured, kind sir, as long as you are writing, i will be reading! xoxoxoxo

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    1. Thank you hen, but please do not be speechless, I like you chatty with just a tender hint of American madness that constantly makes me smile.

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    2. sugar, y'all KNOW i'm never really speechless, but given my southern sensibilities, i could not bring myself to type all the outrageous profanities that immediatelysprang from my lips (they would have made my merchant marine daddy BLUSH) in y'all's comment section! but, jes so ya'll know i have now made it my mission to constantly make you smile. . . ;) xoxoxo

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    3. I do like a feisty woman! Especially the ones that are so perfectly scrumptious in every way. You go for it hen!

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  7. Oh my. I never expected this kind of news. All I can say, my dearest Chef, is that you will be forever stuck with the likes of me as long as you continue to pound the keys. May your condition keep to a very slow pace forward, and just know that you're my favourite Scottish fella ever... and yes, I have been acquainted with several over the years. If Siobhan ever needs a bit of respite for a ladies' day at the spa, tell her I can keep an eye on you for an afternoon. Maybe we could swap recipes in the kitchen over a cold beverage.

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    1. My dear, sweet Ponita, so many years have passed and still not a cross word has come between us. I do feel as though the time has come for you to perhaps assist me in a bed bath from time to time. Shall we say every second Tuesday around 8pm? You know as well as I do, swapping recipes will inevitably lead to us swapping spit in the shower, and believe me, your hands are already full with your excellent DIY quests that I follow so avidly.

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    2. No cross words will ever pass between us, Chef. Let's swap whatever time will allow. And Tuesday at 8 pm it is! I so very much appreciate the little tidbits of advice you've been passing along with regards to my DYI projects. Although I am game to tackle anything, there is so much I don't know and do lots of research before doing so. So having access to your vast knowledge in this field is fantastic. Too bad you're not closer so you could pop over and give me a hand once in a while, even if just to sit on a stool and supervise, pint in hand. Your company, even just here, is all that I ask.

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    3. You might be surprised to know that at times I am a lot closer than you may think. If you need advice, just ask. If you need help just ask. If you need anything else, again, just ask.

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  8. I wonder if the medical community has invented intravenous single malt drips yet? I feel your pain, every day is a bit harder than the last and the scars of battle hurt even more as father times kicks my arse! As for your pals Mr. Laphroaig and Mr. Stewart yours truly, Mr. McNaughton, would like to tag along for a night in Crieff, I will bring my friends as well - any requests?
    Cheers...

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    1. So many requests sir. The first being that we arrange a week away somewhere so that we can run amok with drink, sports and of course much mickey taking in regard to my loyal wee pal.

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    2. I can feel the pain already, oh my poor mickey!

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    3. No doubt your head thumps this morning young sir. Four cokes and a Fanta? Now that's pushing it!

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    4. The provisions of my temporary freedom do not allow me to leave the area! get yer passports ready, prepare to be gawked at as the ham shanks will not understand the un-holy trinity of the Chef, the wee man and the paroled wan aka me as we stroll down tha esplanade passing judgement on the yanks. It would be nice to have some like minded company for a while. Oh well maybe in the next life.
      Cheers...

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    5. That Fanta is a killer!

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    6. And you wonder why I don't tell you everything?

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  9. Replies
    1. I'm here already big brother, warming your stool as it were. Speaking of which, I was led to believe that the throne in the upstairs guest room was made to accommodate my specific proportions!

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    2. No son, that all changed when Siobhan found you drinking from the bowl. I always promised you a bed by the fireside in your darkest hour. I will honour my promise, it's just that the venue has changed slightly. I've now fixed you a room in the barn, beside the llamas and the other wee mule. Don't worry about the smell. They'll soon get used to it.

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    3. Never Mind The Bollix! :)

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    4. One last pint then before I turn in, eh?

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  10. I've grown to enjoy your company Jimbo, much more than i ever thought i would when I first saw you. You don't exactly look the approachable type if i am honest. So to say that i am gutted just isnt enough but i know that you will battle through anything and everything so that gives me a better feeling. Keep punching the keys and i'll keep reading.

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    1. Ha! You're no oil painting yourself young Anthony, but I take your back handed point. I don't plan on popping off just yet, it's not that sort of illness when I am on borrowed time. Time enough to worry when I wet my pants and dribble whilst in your company. Think of the stigma, eh?

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    2. Wouldn't be the first time that has happened. Oops... forgot...never mention that weekend in Amsterdam again... :)

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    3. Are you traying my patience again Mr Spiller?

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  11. I agree with Hope's mention of TBI. A definite possibility. And possible means just that... it's not a given. So we'll take you as you are, and how you will be. Because you are part of our blogging family and family is everything, isn't it? xoxox

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    1. Family is everything hen, thank you, I have now left you my tool box to explore when I have gone. Use it well.

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    2. Your toolbox! You have no idea how that excites me. :-) Am I the only woman whose favourite store is the local hardware?

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    3. All the pretty ones love a man and his hardware. Care to see my hammer?

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    4. Ooooooo... I bet it's a big one. ;-)

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    5. I've increased the population on several occasions due to its powerful swing. But that's another story...

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  12. Everyone who goes on ahead and does not abide in the teaching of Christ, does not have God. Whoever abides in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting, for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works. Justice is mine sayeth the Lord. Justice indeed.

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    1. An excellent monologue from you Mr Pew. I would have been disappointed with anything less. However, just think of the irony if it is me waiting at your mythical pearly gates, my hand outstretched with confirmation from your omnipotent boss that I am your official guide upstairs? Justice indeed.

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    2. What is your real problem jesus boy?

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    3. My thoughts exactly. Have you no friends pewfodder?

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    4. Gentlemen, please... Freedom of speech is welcomed, animosity and poking sticks is not necessary. Allow everyone to have their opinion out in the open.

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  13. This is shocking news indeed. You're a very brave man, but I know still waters run deep. You're on top of my list, so don't think you'll get rid of me so easily.

    Long may you post for your selfish readers!

    Big hug to you and yours. :)

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  14. Ah now Leni, you appear to have made a typo! Your sentence above should read; " You're a man", nothing more. Brave men lay unnoticed in many an unmarked grave in far off distant battlefields.I am but a realist. Perhaps I shall never know my end, my mind may wander while I cannot, but while I can, and while I must, I will remember happy times in a life not entirely wasted.

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  15. Thank you for your honesty and for sharing this with your readers. *Turns back and shouts: Life is f*cking unfair!!!*

    *smiles at you* As I always say, you speak divinely. I'd love to be one of your many travel companions, sir. How about that?

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  16. I had no other choice but to be honest, dear lady. Sooner or later small, telltale idiosyncrasies, such as repetitive waffling, inane contributions and banal comments would have given my situation away. *looks at Scarlet*

    As for speaking divinely, I can hear my friend, the little singing fella, laughing so hard at the notion, his perfect top set are rattling away merrily like 2 shillings in a tin. I speak from the heart dear lady, but not always the head.

    I have always had a passion for train travel. It has been with me since boyhood. If you would care to travel with me, what say we jump on board an old fashioned steam train and trundle idly through the countryside in the south of France? I'll prepare you lunch in the dining car, but only if you allow me to sit beside the window and inhale the beauty of the late winter sun.

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    1. How could I possibly say no, dear sir? I'll be here to read your divine words, enjoy your delicious blog and support you.
      Tell the Little singin' fella not to go against what I say or we'll have a few words (divine, of course).

      Another hug, if you allow me to. ;)

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    2. Hug away my dear, the night is young and so are we.

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  17. Duntocher Brian2:35 am GMT+5

    In all this sea of sentimentality, I seem to be the only one who got your little in-joke about the loaves and fishes being the dish of the day. Even the ridiculously dysfunctional buffoon pewfodder missed that neat little trick. The fact that you can still charm the ladies, even after all these years is galling, you befuddled old sot. Buy me a pint on Sunday and we can reminisce again about our schooldays.

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    1. Wasted, Brian, wasted. The cerebral intelligence that emanates from you is frightening. Especially coming from the only guy EVER to fail to complete the crossword in the Daily Record.

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  18. Charm, or just simple acknowledgement of just how appreciative I am of these kind and caring women who found time to comment above, Brian?

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    1. ...I hope you're writing all of this down son!

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  19. Duntocher Brian2:47 am GMT+5

    Just like water from a burst balloon, you pour, you dampen and then offer to dry them profoundly with your silky smooth towel. Lol, make it 2 pints now for your cheek.

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    1. You're on, shall we say the Gallowgate at 11am? Do drop in and confirm as you stagger blindly adjacent my front lawn.

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    2. Duntocher Brian12:15 am GMT+5

      11 it is.

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  20. Samuel Beckett, afflicted with the same thing, was asked how he found his condition and whether it was making him depressed. "Not at all," he answered, and said that it simply makes him concentrated on what's most immediate and close. May you enjoy many more glasses with Messrs Stewart and Laphraoig, and may we enjoy your telling the tales.

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  21. Beckett, a fellow Trinity scholar. A man of the people, a man amongst men. I shall take your compliment and hold it dear, Mr Looby. Wise and thoughtful words from an Englishman. Perhaps, after all these years, I may have been proven wrong sir.

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  22. Just for the record, my posts are always nonsensical... it's me not the dementia! And I cope reasonably well with just the one brain cell to rub together.
    Of course we will endure you and hug you to bits.
    Sx

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    1. I prefer to think of your charming posts as light, fluffy and extremely pink. I wouldn't change a thing, apart from the wordage of course.

      I shall hold you to that hug missy, but no tongues this time, ok?

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  23. I'm with Daisy, fuck.

    Will be here lapping up every morsel.

    Your talent with words is a gift to us all.


    xxx
    xxx

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    1. I'll accept those kisses, I never turn down the affections of a good looking woman. As for talent, naw...

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  24. You know, a train is the one means of travel I've never had the opportunity to try. Oh, I always wanted to...especially as a kid raised on t.v. westerns. But the only one left locally had been to take tourists up to the mountains for the fall colors, then back again a couple of hours later. Sadly, the times placed them on the brink of bankruptcy, so they folded shop. No more trains...just the amusement park variety and they don't count.

    So I'm guessing you'll just have to take good care of yourself until I can one day transport myself to your side of the pond. Can I have the window seat for a few minutes? ;)

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    1. Of course you may have the window seat, what man would not gladly give up his seat for a lady? Pick a country that you and I could tour, somewhere we can sample fine food and paddle barefoot while we sip melodious wines.

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    2. Sorry to butt in on your conversation here, but perhaps a bunch of us could fly to Vancouver and take the train through the Rockies? They have 2 level cars with huge windows... I've heard it is spectacular. Something I've always wanted to do. Check this out: http://www.rockymountaineer.com/en_CA/

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    3. Okay, that's settled. It will be a two stage affair, now taking in the Rockies on the way with Pony-doll, and perhaps ending with a sight-seeing tour of the Grand Canyon and then onwards to Vegas to see the lights and get a bit of action. Who's up for it?

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    4. Is that a good idea? I'll have to check with Eurostar and enquire if they have bunk beds with steps.

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    5. I'll just climb up on yer shoulders as usual.

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    6. Aye, nae bother son. But first it might be advisable if you waited in the dining car until I have finished entertaining my lady friends. I'll call you when I'm done... eventually.

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    7. Just leave the bar tab open......

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    8. Aye, no bother. I believe I can stretch to a packet of Taytos and a diet Sprite for yis.

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    9. Thoughtful as always... and a piece?

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    10. Aye, a roll and gammon, but only if you sing for your supper.

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    11. You name it pal, I'll do me best.

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  25. No shit ?

    Right then.

    You write, I read. Don't expect false mercy. You are a man and you are treated this way. With dignity, honour, and a kick in the arse when needed. Some stupid cells can not take it away.

    Was bleibt ?

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    1. Eine interessante Hypothese Herr Mago, ich nehme Ihre Bemerkung an Bord und warten auf den sprichwörtlichen tritt in den a. ... voll Szenario. Lassen Sie mich zum Tipp Ich ziehe meinen Hut für Sie da sind. Ich bin nicht sehr bewandert mit dem "Haus für das Wochenende" bedeutet, kann man nur mutmaßen, dass sie haben sich schon immer in den Schnaps sehr früh dieses Jahr. Bei meinem letzten Besuch in Deutschland Ich hatte das Glück, eine Führung durch die interessante industrielle Stadt Stuttgart. Leider konnte ich nicht ganz leisten einige der hervorragend bearbeitete im Angebot für den Preis von knapp 2 Mio. EUR. Vielleicht nächstes Jahr, oder?

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  26. Endure you?
    Silly man!
    You're adored darl ... even by those who seek to provoke you.
    Besides, you can't get rid of an Irish/German lass that easy! ;)
    I told you once before that I would be honored to set at any table anywhere on Big Blue with you and toast to .... everything!
    I certainly would.
    xoxoxoxox

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    1. How about we raise a glass for every state in the US of A just for starters? After that we can move on to a toast for every Hollywood movie that doesn't have Mel Gibson in it. Hell, let's make a night of it and hire a limo while we are at it doll.

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  27. And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done.

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  28. Uh huh, so, this Peter fella, he saw someone small, half dead looking, standing in front of my toilet bowl reading a book? The only little fella that has ever stood before a throne in my bathroom would be your man from Limerick. However, this fella was reading a book? Can't be the little singing fella then. Can you check back in with Peter, ask him if it might have been a magazine or something similar? Now, if it's a magazine involving trout fishing or tractor pulling, that might point to our man. However, we might have to then go back to the original plan A and trace the pencil marks on my decent whisky bottles to ascertain if it was himself from Limerick having a crafty pish in my good porcelain.

    Do give my regards to Peter, tell him; Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye. Thanks for stopping by.

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    1. Sorry but just cannot hold my tongue where this tube is concerned. What an arse. What is his problem with you JB?

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    2. Anthony, I can't say that I have ever given it much thought.

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    3. Everytime I look at my phone or go online I see this fool looking for a fight. Its like a little bird pecking all the while.

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    4. All the more reason not to feed him then son.

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  29. Replies
    1. I bet you still have your 'Shoot' annuals from 1976 still under your bed, eh wee man?

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    2. Aye, 'Shoot', annuals, that's what I told the Ma! :¬)

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    3. Nothing went past your Ma, oul son, nothing!

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  30. Motherwell 0 Celtic 5 That should ensure a smile on your face tonight you big bugger.

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  31. It certainly helped sir.

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    1. Some amount of goals for one week, keep 'em comin' Bhoys!

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  32. Oh they will, but still no sign of a decent striker!

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  33. Insomnia seems to be catching my friend.

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    1. Shall I send you a few sheep? You can always count them afterwards...

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    2. "Baaa" still means "No"

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    3. Ever the feminist....

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  34. Is this the M&W show? :*)

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  35. I was thinking more along the lines of Little & Large.

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  36. One of the most important lessons my old man ever taught me was "don't lead with your head,son!"... but all that aside i think you know this septic's in your corner sir, it's a bit like hitting the shite lottery but if anyone's gonna look this problem in the eye and get on with things without pissing and moaning it's you, keep on banging away as long as you like (easy Daisy i was talking about the typer) the stories need to be told...

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  37. I thank you for your thoughts sir. It would be rude of me to let you down.

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Thank you, the chef is currently preparing an answer for you in the kitchen. Do help yourself to more bread.