Friday, September 21, 2007

selection of cold meats

DANNY Boy (the poipes, the poipes) is getting the cold shoulder from The Solicitor. From my understanding, she has put an injunction on him going anywhere near her, particularly after he stumbled home six hours late following a racous session in Dempsey's at the nether end of Boozeday Tuesday.
Apparently he joined Withers, the Fab BB, Monsieur De Lebusier and the Prince of Darkness in this well-known Irish haunt. To me it appeared to be a blatant attempt to suck up to the Boss, who had already booked his seat for that night's Celtic game in Europe.
Also there were the Boss's pals, who sound like characters out of an ancient Whizzer and Chips annual - Biff, Griff, Diff, Chiff, Stiff and Miff. Apparently by the end of the night they were all bouncing up and down singing "Hey, Hey the Celts are here...", according to my spies anyway.
Then on Thursday lunchtime, while squeezing in a ciggy break, Withers and I noticed Danny Boy (the poipes etc) sneaking back into work with a large package under his arm.
"What's that?" we quite reasonably inquired.
"Um, it's a blow-up sofa - apparently I broke the other one on Tuesday night," he replied sheepishly.
The scenario played out in my head. Danny Boy (the poipes etc) stumbles up the stairs to bed; The Solicitor boots him out and tells him to sleep on blow-up sofa; Danny Boy, not happy with this state of affairs, promptly chews hole in said sofa and pleads to be let back into marital bed. Then again, the story might be totally different. I'm sure it will come out in the wash...

News reaches me that our features editor Captain Mainwaring has given birth to a boy as well, following on from Kempy's happy event. The new arrival is called George which is, coincidentally, the first name of the actual Captain Mainwaring of Dad's Army fame. Hope the wee lad's mates never get to view the old sitcom, but I wouldn't count on it knowing the BBC's penchant for repeats and the advent of digital channels like UK Gold. We salute you, Captain.

There was a rather truncated Wednesday club this week involving myself, Smashy, the wonderful one and the Prince of Darkness. A few pints were supped in appalling weather, reminding us exactly what the smoking ban is going to do to us as the cold nights draw in.
Then on Thursday Wales managed to rescue some of their rugby pride with a 72-18 win over Japan. The Wonderful One, who has never shown any interest in the oval ball game until now, seized on some spare tickets for the game.
Turns out the second ticket was for Gracie "Fields", the new lodger in his Canton commune.
"Didn't think it would be a bloke you were taking along," teased Roberts.
The Wonderful One responded in typical fashion. His ears went bright red and he stomped out on his Size 11 plates shrieking "Grow up".
The rest of us new exactly where Roberts was coming from. In fact, it is just the kind of remark that has seen Withers on the receiving end of a flying flower vase in the past.
The Biter bit, methinks.

Bought some lovely meats from Sainsbury's the other day - French Saucisson, German pepper salami and Mortadella. Went down very nicely with a boiled egg, Bavarian smoked cheese and Dutch Gouda, I must say.

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