Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2009 11:22 am Post subject: The Wanderer Returns
*creeaak, the door slowly inches open, and a gnarly, clawed white hand appears, nervously clutching a pole to which is attached a rather grubby white piece of cloth. A hollow, wavering voice issues from behind the door and utters:*
Hi all, it's Beantighe here, just surfaced from a long sojourn in the gloomy depths! Can I come in? It's flippin' taters out here!!
Good to see you're still kicking. Nothing much has changed. A few arguments, the world has ended a few times and a couple of pregnancy scares - just the usual.
drags the poofah up to the fireside chair. pokes the fire to get it roaring. drags EG,s pretty little bottom out of the fireside chair.(Tut Tut Eg plonked her bum there as soon as the chair was empty).lol.
could,nt get a look in when it came to that comfy chair.
sits Beany down with a cup of strong sweet brew. Gets Raymond to work rubbing Beanys tootsies back to life.
I'm enjoying that cuppa right now, Swannie! Haven't had a laugh like this for months - jeez I needed one!
That chatter's just reminded me - I once worked in a soft furnishing dept many years ago, and was covering one lunchtime, when the phone went in the office. (That was a misnomer, really, it was just a glorified cupboard under the stairs.) Anyway, the guy on the other end was a real lah-di-dah pompous git - no Hello, or Good Afternoon, just - Do you sell poofs? With a supreme effort, I maintained a level expression and replied, Certainly, Sir, what colour would you like?
I love those old fashioned meanings for certain words.
I remember one christmas we took my Nan to Lewisham market. For those who don't know Lewisham it's a very black area.
Anyway, my Nan wanted a new hat so we went to this hat shop and she tried on a few. There was this particular hat she wanted so she held it up and called out to the shop girl,
"Excuse me love, does this style come in nigger brown?"
Oh how we laughed just before the race riot kicked off.
It's been so hard for people of my generation and older - like having to learn a new language, and be so careful what we say. So much doesn't mean the same as it did when I was young, and there have been many occasions when younger people have refused to understand this and make allowances, and instead just gone straight for the jugular, which has often shocked and saddened me. The ultra-pc never make allowances for genuine mistakes.
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