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Andrew Macdonald [see Hark The Herald Angels Sing!] 15 February 2003 14:29 Reprieve
I can see why the Cornish language died out now, although I'm still not
entirely convinced that it wasn't invented in about 1889 by a lot of people
who liked dressing up in long white nighties, sandals and fluffy cotton wool
beards. Still, at least we have managed to get a positive ID on
"Winwaloe", so next time you see a bloke in the Slope wearing a red
pinny and carrying a curtain rod and a loaf of bread, you'll know who it is.
I've been held incommunicado this week following the unfortunate incident of
the burnt soup last Sunday, but I seem to have been reprieved now I've
mastered the perfect poached egg. And talking of soup, please
explain to "Wibblewobble" that my name is Macdonald, not
MacDonald, and if he doesn't get it right, I'll be round with the Wusthof.
But he's right about one thing at least, to paraphrase Hillaire Belloc's lines
after the battle of Omdurman,
"and whatever happens, thank the lord, that we have got Adnams Bitter, and they have not."
I'd gladly send you some Adnams; it's nothing to do with the hydraulic
cutting equipment and controlled explosions needed to get the wallet open,
it's just that it doesn't like leaving Suffolk and develops a foul taste as
soon as it discovers its post code doesn't begin with IP. (It's not just
live beer, it's sentient beer as well) Plus, you don't do too bad
yourselves, what with the Doom Bar, Sharp's Special, Skinners, Wreckers, Old
Knobshrinker, etc, etc. Talking of beer, Mrs Alewife's Harvest Ale is
not dissimilar to Doom Bar, I've decided. I'll bring some down next time
we make it that far.
Must go. I've got to go and oil the owl before the war starts.
PS: See - I was right about the Tat car park?
PPS: If nothing is true, then what is truth?
Vile Jelly 15 February 2003 17:16
In the immortal words of the (Non-fermented) Beatles .....
Nothing is real and there's nothing to get hung about (unless you're Derek
Bentley)
PS. SSI, in case you haven't noticed, doesn't tell anyone what to do. But
you'll need to go to Exmoor to vent the wrath of your wusthofs on proto-saint
Winwaloe. Personally I hope that you don't as I am fascinated to see whether
the halo fits!
PPS. Did you know that the closest the spellchecker comes up with for
'wusthofs' is 'warthogs'. Sums them up perfectly.
Andrew Macdonald 17 February 2003 09:46
Hot diggety damn, missed the deadline.
Just seen St W's latest Did he turn up in darkest Cornwall having turned
left at Exmoor and then walked across the Tamar?
Anyway, purely by chance I'm working in Southwold today about 200 yards from
the Harbour Inn, so I might just pop in for a pint while I'm there. Be a
shame not to, really, wouldn't it?
OK, I'll put the Warthogs away. The best the spellchecker can do for
Winwaloe is Pinwale.
Vile Jelly 17 February 2003 11:51
I have not had any further communiqués from our trainee saint. Although if he
is supposed to be spending 40 days and 40 nights in the wilderness then I
suppose we shouldn't expect any. We'll just have to keep an eye out for signs
and portents.
What the hell is a Pinwale?
Give the beer my regards.
Andrew Macdonald 17 February 2003 17:44
OK, we'll keep an eye open. I'm assuming that the Blyth river flowing
with blood and dragons breathing fire over Ipswich obviously don't count.
I guess a pinwale is a bit like a very long thin swordfish with a very sharp
point at one end and a sort of round blob at the other. Not to be
confused with a needlewale, or indeed a narwhale.
The beer says hello. Repeatedly.
Vile Jelly 17 February 2003 19:24 Well, as they say ..... all's well that ends ale! |
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