Saturday, 23 July 2016

Most of the World Navies lower deck Sailors Wear Effeminate Uniforms.


The Sailor’s Uniform
For many years, sailors in the Royal Navy waited for the privilege to
leave their ship or establishment out of uniform. In the early 1950’s, this
privilege was finally granted, but only in shore establishments. In 1965, it
was extended to ships, but only in British Commonwealth ports of call.
Should anyone dare suggest that my descendants wear a Gilbert and
Sullivan comic opera-type navy uniform, I would cheerfully see them
dead before allowing it. People who wear these uniforms may feel proud
for a while, but the novelty wears off very quickly when you discover
you have been dressed to fit into a subordinate category and are
identified as such. Furthermore, you are obliged to cringe, bow, and
grovel before all other navy personnel who are dressed in attire that is
more comfortable. The higher their order of rank, the more difficult it is
to communicate with them. This sort of situation gives the word ‘rank’ a
different definition. You can easily recognise these Dartmouth Desmond's
because they elevate their twitching noses like pompous peacocks when
they address you. During any conversation, you will be forced to listen to
cod’s wallop like “I say, old chap” or” I say, Smith” or “Jolly good, oh get
on with it” or “Damn good show” and “Rugger Soccer” and “Twickers.”
By this time, you will wish you had joined the salvos, who at least
command respect no matter what IQ they have. Sitting on their arses and
legally collecting money and smiling at people cannot be all that bad.
If you have ever struggled to get into a British Navy sailor’s uniform,
you will know how uncomfortably hot and itchy it is. The useless black
silk and lanyard just make it easier for shore-going assassins to be able to
strangle you in a punch-up.
Most sailors during my Royal Navy days (including those from other
countries) couldn’t wait to take off these peculiar uniforms that are
reminiscent of the days of wigs and crinolines.
The USA, a former colony of Britain and the world leader when it
comes to reform and futuristic ideology, has also missed the boat when it
comes to uniforms. Although its lower-deck sailor’s uniform lacks the
distinctive pantomime look of the French and British theatrical costume,
in my opinion it still looks flamboyant and effeminate.
Gene Kelly, Old Blue Eyes, and other stars were seen cavorting gaily
about in sailor’s uniforms in semi-ancient Hollywood movies, but they
were paid astronomical fees for doing so.
Nowadays, girls, women, etc. avoid relationships with long-absent
seagoing lovers, unless of course they are strict or religious or perhaps
desperate, pregnant, or just plain ugly. Nevertheless, I admire those dear
few ladies who love waiting and appreciate what they are waiting for.
My message to you black-tie bigwigs with your myriads of medals is:
Cast your eyes upon the plight of your lower-deck men. It’s time they
wore sophisticated uniforms that make them look like men. Put the old,
outdated uniforms where they belong – with cocked hats, penny-farthing
bicycles, grandma’s box of musty mementos, and rusty tins of used gramophone needles.

Friday, 22 July 2016

2nd Words on Wednesday

EXHIBITION.
FEELING.
BEWITCHING.
CAPTIVE.
GUSHING.
CANDLE.

 Vest 2nd Composition.

     It is usually with a FEELING of relief when one departs after attending a BEWITCHING CANDLE light supper at Mrs Bucket's  (Pronounced Bouquet)  upmarket EXHIBITION residence.
      The pomposity of this garrulous GUSHING Lady ? is beyond belief, who one, dares not attempt to interrupt, while she is prattling off to her bored CAPTIVE audience.
       It is a joy to find thoughts one might have, beautifully expressed by someone possibly wiser than one's self. Vest ....back soon.

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

WORDS ON WEDNESDAY ( The village Bike.)



     These Are the Words For Wednesday

It is now up to you to compose a story  yarn or a poem or even a limerick (That would be hard )

EXHIBITION.
FEELINGS.
BEWITCHING.
CAPTIVE.
GUSHING.
CANDLE.

     This is my Composition.. By Vest.
 
     The FEELINGS  of the persons who attended the newly formulated  evening EXHIBITION  Highlighted by the impressive coloured CANDLE  lights and who  had created impressive floral exhibits but failed to impress the GUSHING  judge who obviously was  favouring Lord and Lady Cods Wallop's tawdry exhibit (Or that of their gardeners) As was usually the case  followed by the exhibit by the village Squire and his newly acquired leggy blonde  wife whose visible Undercarriage was highlighted by her BEWITCHING see through attire which thrilled a CAPTIVE audience of gawking village idiots yelling their approval of the Squires  latest acquisition - formerly the village Bike.

I am likely to be put in the Village Stocks for this one.

Vest back soon.

Saturday, 16 July 2016

The BIG 90 Today




         Dear Friends and Relatives

     Today July  16  2016 I have reached a pinnacle of life I least expected , I consider myself to be a lucky person having survived to this Grand Age.
     There have been many pitfalls during my lifetime which with perseverance were overcome by a steady as you go attitude to life and not expect that others should do my bidding and to put to good purpose my own allotted measure of commonsense and a willingness to make things happen. I have lived a healthy lifestye mostly in my later years and the deprivations of my early years taught me to appreciate the better things in later life common to many people. I have survived several conflicts Other than minor marital happenings however, all is well and my partnership with my Wife Rosemary has always been compatible for the past 63 years, it also gives me pleasure knowing I have a great family whom I love unconditionally plus many friends whom I love and respect and am grateful for their acceptance of me
     To all all of the nice people who have conveyed their good wishes to me and recently for my Wife Rosemary a Big Big "Thank you.".

,Grand father Father and Uncle Leslie. XOX.


Friday, 15 July 2016

Tomorrow In History.

 
    It was on July 16 during the Gregorian Calendar year 622  approx 1,394 years ago when Mohammad took flight from Mecca to Medina but the Muslim calendar will tell you it was 1,427 years ago. So it would seem a Muslim person  person reaching 98.7  Gregorian years tomorrow  will have reached 100  Hal Al years. I wonder how the world would be if  big MO had missed his flight. its all too weird for words.

 Also on July 16 1945 The first Atomic Explosion  was tested In the New Mexico desert  in the USA..

 Then on July 16 1969 at 2100 hrs British Summer Time (B S T) the  Apollo 11 crew took flight to the Moon..

 And finally . On July 16 1926,  Yours truly VEST was hatched at 21 , Homerton High Street, Hackney, London E8 England.  And the world rejoiced, er I dun Fink so.being  the world  around me already had more than its share of problems

 May we all be given  the serenity to accept things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
 Vest..... back soon. be good.

Thursday, 14 July 2016

Second "Words on Wednesday"

 The second list: 
  1. clip
  2. tie
  3. previous
  4. greet
  5. attack
  6. serve
      This my  Composition

     Joining the RSL Club was an ATTACK on my privacy, but particularly annoying by the meathead who towered over me asking personal questions as if I was a newly born  or a Nozzer joining the R/Navy. He having perused my service records he and his fellow inquisitor seemed a little embarrassed - my thwarting icy stare on  saying thank you  followed their remark of "Quite a distinguished service sir, "Yes I replied" However his final  SERVE as good as a CLIP around the ear was "remember to wear a TIE the next time you call"
     A few days later following my PREVIOUS encounter, I fronted up to the overweight beer swiller. with black TIE whose  main purpose was to GREET patrons who had legitimate access to the club and remove those  who had not, As  I flashed my new club card when  I passed his desk  he replied "OI oo  are you,; show me your card" Oh its you the POM  who Joined last week "Yes I replied You have had a chat with your fellow Bludging Galahs  who cannot say the word English man . I then reminded him that when I become the President of the club he and his cronies would be looking for another occupation should they continue their anti social  remarks.

" If you are strong there are no precedents."

Wednesday, 13 July 2016

Words for Wednesday..A Greek Tragedy.

                                                        Words for this Wednesday

BROAD.
BEWILDERED.
DRACONIAN.
IMPRESS.
BE.
HELPLESS.

This is my Greek Tragedy.

     The more recent Greek tragedy concerning Greece, brought about by the failure of the Greeks to fulfill their obligations to the EEC, were minuscule compared to the BROAD list of indiscretions   Which could be perpetrated  by members of a  BEWILDERED and HELPLESS population under Draco's  DRACONIAN administration who had no redress if convicted and capital punishment would BE the inevitable result. It would be a toss up who was the worse tyrant he or Mr Schiclegruber  - aka Adolf H who exited our world in 1945.
     Fortunately for the Greeks  the tide turned after  a mutinous  insurrection and  Draco the unloved was unseated from power and was replaced by Solon who abolished Draco's laws and instigated laws which would IMPRESS the population , the laws included  a graduated income tax scale and  rewards for ambitious ideas
     More is the pity one cannot resurrect  Solon with a dab of Lazarus oil in order to put him to good use by using his ideas to implant into the minds of our great range of governments around the Globe.
     What our world needs is  people who specialise in the impossible.

Vest DAILY GAGGLE.


Sunday, 10 July 2016






Low Flying Porkers Pillory Public 'P' Platers.

Most motorists have their own anecdotal stories to tell of police cars brazenly flouting the traffic laws for no apparent reason.

Now there is hard evidence that these are not just stories. The revelation that last financial year 1433 police cars were caught breaking the road rules without reason is worryingly high, given there are about 16,000 officers in NSW.

But it should be kept in perspective - the lead-foot officers behind the wheel did not get off without consequence. They had to pay their fines, a combined $345,904, and they lost demerit points too, as would any other motorist. And they were subject to internal investigations by safe driver committees, which is entirely appropriate.

But the behaviour of the minority is unhelpful to the overall objectives of reducing the road toll.

There is already building resentment among some motorists about the punitive measures used in NSW to enforce the road rules. State Government policies have been severe, from double-demerit point weekends to a widening network of fixed-speed cameras. Still to come is the roll-out of 200 more red-light cameras, which will generate thousands of fines.

The NSW Police Force is keen to keep the road toll under 400 this year. This is a goal that deserves widespread community support. However, it is obvious the police hierarchy still has a job ahead convincing their own officers to drive safely and lawfully at all times.

Reckless attitudes to the road rules among a minority of officers serves only to undermine public support and confidence.

There is also a 'T' Junction  adjacent to a Coles Supermarket coming out of  Tenth Avenue Budgewoi NSW Where I live. and a Give Way sign  on the cross road  on the right  Which is Totally ignored by 98% of  all Vehicles . Buses Public service vehicles Every one,  there have been A few prangs but I am surprised there haven't been more,  The reason for the Give Way being there is to keep traffic flowing to avoid a bottle neck Other than that the people ignoring the Give way sign would have right of way. 
'OBEY THE SIGNS'.

LEAD-FOOT PUBLIC SERVANTS.
Traffic fines issued to govt agency cars last year.
NSW POLICE, 1,433.
Ambulance service, NSW, 341.
Energy Australia, 321.
NSW Fire Brigade, 263.
Dept of Community Services, 247.
Rail Corp, 199.
Roads and Traffic Authority, 190.
Dept of Education and Training, 153.
State Transit Authority, 149.
Dept of Corrective Services, 145.

Friday, 8 July 2016

The 2nd Words on Wednesday

   Here are the Words

TASTY.
X RAY'
BONE.
AUNT.
GABBY.
STAY.  

   I have a habit of reading The Sydney Daily Telegraph History column and again a familiar name crops up, which gives me the right to air my TASTY  BONE of contention.
     The people who write some of this Gush have no more idea what they are printing than my great AUNT GABBY Whose X RAY of her noddle  revealed a complete emptiness.
     Let the truth be known, that the said historic person the Parramatta NSW Judge Advocate Richard Atkins, stated to the Governor of NSW Australia Phillip Gidley King on July 8 1805, that as Aborigines are without morals or religion, they cannot give evidence in a case of law.
     So much for that statement from no other than a completely untrustworthy person whose real given birth name was Richard Bowyer ( a likely relative)  It would be a great idea to read his Wiki or google profile to get a better picture of this Despot whose drunken antics and poor judgement of those who fell foul of him  would suggest he came top of the class in Judge Jefferies (The hanging Judge) school of law..
     Richard Bowyer Atkins  was eventually given his marching orders although his Wife and family despaired of him and left earlier for the UK,  little is known of his lifestyle after arriving in the UK..
     Richard Bowyer was the fith son of Sir William Bowyer whose country seat was in Denham Court Buckinghamshire. The elder of the five brothers was George who retired as a rear Admiral
to Radley Oxfordshire after losing a leg during the battle of Ushant 1793 his house now The'BOWYER ARMS is a large Public house Hotel eight miles from Chalgrove where I lived as a child and visited last time iin the UK 2015.
     Another brother was a general in the British Army who served in Florida in the 1700s I believe a fort was named after him in Florida. However, the two remaining Brothers I have little knowledge of.
     I shall have to STAY a little longer to finish giving you more details regarding yours truly Tricky Dickiie AKA  Richard Bowyer..
      Richard Bowyer was sent to serve in the British Army  and was known to have served as an adjutant in the Isle OF Man Corps,. During this period he became involved in lots of Miscellaneous skulduggery plus running foul of the law and becoming  into debt. His father Sir William who despaired of him had words with Lord Atkins who was without issue and who took him in as family until the bubble burst again and sent him packing with his family and a healthy stipend to Australia.
      The only peculiar thing about this TRUE STORY perhaps is that My Wife and I have five sons too and just recently we  assisted  our fith son - our prodigal son to move to Queensland up north about 2000 miles from us.
       Like history coming back to bite us  Les BOWYER , AKA VEST
My spell check is out.

Thursday, 7 July 2016

Words on Wednesday.

 These are the words for Wednesday
compiled from 'Elephants Child".

STOP.
CAN.
BOILING.
KNOTTY.
SCRAPE.
COMPETITION.

 Plus, OUR PRECIOUS HOURS ARE TICKING AWAY.

This is my Composition.



    It has been years since I used a Gym for keeping fit, part of my former occupation was spent in the BOILING sun, this in turn was in direct COMPETITION  with an occasional visit to the gym.
     The Brochure I received in the mail box relating to this activity states "The only people you will come in contact with are those of your own weight and size  problems."
   When I STOP to think about it I realise the people sending me this stuff in the mail have no idea about persons of my age - OUR PRECIOUS HOURS ARE TICKING AWAY and  CAN only guess or hope they find someone in need of their services, although in my case they  get it wrong despite the fact I am not likened to a KNOTTY  Arny Swartznegger - once described by a prominent Sydney Talk Show host as a 'Condom full of Walnuts' I may only be a smigein over-weight and far from a porky, but I would be happy If I could SCRAPE off about five or more Kilos
     You hear gossip about people being mocked and bullied over their weight at the weight loss centres, that is the reason such people mentioned  don't bother to attend again when this happens.
     There are people who frequently use  the Gyms as a source to procure lovers or for the admiration of others. most of these are failed lothario's and would be Miss worlds but mostly Miss Dubbo's and D grade Celebs - occasionally flashing their parts hoping someone is perving or visa versa - particularly in the showers after a workout.. Going back a fair bit  to the time I last frequented a Gym I always tried to be annonymous and got dressed quickly and not talk to anyone - particularly when in the Buff and always turn away from people when drying ones private parts and don ones undies poste haste. and most importantly during this process 'one should never Bend over.'
Vest Daily Gaggle.....Back soon.


Saturday, 2 July 2016

A TWELVE MONTH REPRIEVE.

                                The driving test medical exam , Election day  Sat July 2.. 2016.
     Chaos on the local roads very few parking areas and after voting I somehow managed to find a parking spot; although a trifle cramped for space on my Starboard side due to the wheels  of the other vehicle being about four inches-10 cm away from the allotted line. Getting out of the car and putting my hand on the edge of my door was still a struggle to get out of the car. The Lady? driver of the other car yelled "You touched my car", 'Yes" I replied "with my hand and you Madam sad to say are improperly parked" . Her reply was "Don't Madam me, if you have marked my car I shall kick your door in"  There was no mark but I took her car Reg Number and left her mumbling. I just smiled blew her a kiss and left, "Who breeds with these people."?.
     I checked into the doctors surg and was told there would be an hour to wait at least, so I drove home only two Min's away  for a cuppa and returned later .
     Watching the TV in the waiting room an Archery demonstration was in progress, the Docs Sec said  'All high tech stuff now Mr Bowyer" "yes you are right " I replied- my ancestors who made Bows from the YEW tree would be bewildered. but what is more odd is that my last residence in the UK was  Mr Bowyer at a 27 Yew tree Avenue.(True)
     The Doctor a Mr Singh standing in for Ajay my regular Doc ( On holiday again) set about asking me several intrusive question regarding my health  which would have taken more time than a heart transplant Say's you nearly left it too late  for this exam , BTW do you exercise ? "yes " I replied" I then lied I had been down to Melbourne for the over 70's Olympics  and was a contestant in the  Quarter Marathon and Cycling over twenty Ks Sprint. The doc gave me a strange look - signed the form I breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing I can drive for yet another year -Hopefully..

To achieve great things we must live as though we were never going to die.

Vest ....Back later.

Thursday, 30 June 2016

2nd Story for 'Words on Wednesday

1. virus
2. business
3. instrument
4. special
5. complex
6. superhuman

" There is a Prince Charming in all good fairy stories,  but not in this one.

             In a dream I invent a  SPECIAL  VIRUS,; with the assistance of a BUSINESS partner;
 Who with his SPECIAL  knowledge of COMPLEX  INSTRUMENT production  enabled the
finished tool of destruction to be capable of the complete  annihilation of the huge invading SUPERHUMAN
 aliens from planet (KOOBECAF) .    

Wednesday, 29 June 2016

WORDS ON WEDNESDAY>



Words For WEDNESDAY.

     These Words are here to assist you or confuse you in your .
efforts to compose a short story. These words must be used entirely within your own story. This is not an original Idea but evolves from other frequently visited blogs from which I find Interesting. VEST.

These words were selected from  the blog of RIVER
You may write your story now if you wish.

HOTTEST.
RECONNECT.
INTERACTIVE.
DRIFTWOOD.
MYSTERY.
CONTINENTAL.
                             This is my contribution.

     Although the MYSTERY of the peculiar antics of the visiting sons of Nippon  and their aerobatic performances had been witnessed in and around an area South of the Indian sub CONTINENT( The Indian Ocean)  We were now intent on making our acquaintance yet again. and at that moment in time I would have wished to be elsewhere - any where, however, there was a job  to be done  and despite it being a public holiday for some lucky souls, this Sunday Easter day April 1 and all fools day, it was to become our HOTTEST day yet, when we were due to  RECONNECT with our old foe,  who would be following  our early morning strike  aircraft returning to our A/C Carriers, " Bogey on the Plot All Quarters stand to" Then no fewer than a  dozen of the Sons of Nippon arrived ,Whereupon our INTERACTIVE group on the 'Air Defence Position swung into action
     Later, after the confusion, smoking DRIFTWOOD and other wreckage  from aircraft  Covered the ocean until we moved from the area. Soon after  the Captain arrives and Say's "Well done Lads'' and in his jocular manner grinned when saying" Better wear brown trousers at Action Stations in future"..
Okinawa  45.

VEST... Back soon.


Saturday, 25 June 2016

'Going Down' The British Way..


     'Arrgh" Enough Weekly to buy a small car Or if you Booze Three cheap bottles of Taiwan whisky..
Yep that's how I look at the Amount my Land of hope and *^)#*)(%#$ Glory ; Naval and State British Pension has tumbled, Well I shall not worry too much, this will in turn lower my outgoings to the OZ Fed Govt, and I could be a right B-----d and cancel my miniscule charity donations in order to even the score. Well I shall not do anything about the problem but I shall relish the fact that what Great Britain needs most, is  their locals buy more British goods and close the frontiers to the Hordes of Migrating would be non English speaking Dole Bludgers.and those intent on imposing their archaic and ridiculous beliefs on others.
     Having said that, I feel that as  a now fully Qualified Brit and Strine linguist I should feel grateful to be able to reside in the land Girt by sea and sincerely hope my Rello's in GB get this mess cleaned up soon . Good onyer Girt.

Vest... Back soon.    The time is always right to do what is right.

Friday, 24 June 2016

WHITE RIBBON UNDER SCRUTINY (Read Today's Sydney Telegraph.) Also words for Wednesday

1. Why you should never give a cent to White Ribbon .  Worth a read. Go to Sydney Daily Telegraph on line.  

                                                    ____________________     ...........

    
                                                Results for words on Wednesday
  1. The infamous Wife beating (BOXER)'Benny the basher from Birmingham', emerged from his favourite pub bar having sunk eight pints of his favourite BREW which had washed down his large serving of SMOKED HAM sandwiches.
    His alcohol fueled BELLICOSE attitude sent him flying as he tripped when his RECKLESS charging down the pub steps sent him flying face first skidding on the hot BITUMEN road - his just reward for drunken behaviour.
    ReplyDelete
          
  1. Reply
  2. The week of camping under CANVAS became a complete disaster due to the tent ROOF leaking due to the continuing rain.
    JEWEL our PLUM coloured Bitser hound left a PUDDLE of water each time she entered the tent when she; accompanied by Bill - a friend, returned from yet another unsuccessful attempt to POACH a few Pheasants from the game reserve for our lunch, 'WELL THAT'S ANNOYING' Say's I and that's not all, it seems the dog just ate the remainder of the SMOKED HAM left over from yesterday, sorry to have to tell you that but I was writing when the dog came in and I made a mistake in the confusion and have written the word ROOF instead of REEF , how silly of me.
    ReplyDelete
          Vest Back soon.

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

EMILY FINAL.

     Emily stayed over that night. I was already asleep when she lay on my
bedspread, covered by a blanket and her street coat. Sally drove Emily
home the following morning, as snow had fallen overnight. Emily had
informed Sally about our overnight dalliance. Sally explained to me that
her friend, Emily, whom she knew quite well, was a trustworthy young
lady with an unconventional innocence.
     While alone with Sally, I asked her if she ever got a high metabolism
when eating fish and chips. Sally scratched her lowered head with eyes
raised and replied; “If it’s what I think it is, you cheeky devil, it’s none of
your business.” After looking up this unusual word in the dictionary, I
explained to Sally that it had nothing to do with ‘you know what’ and
that it meant ‘being able to take in a large quantity of sustenance without
becoming fat.’ Sally replied, laughing, “I have heard of it being called
several different names but never ‘sustenance.’”
Later in the day when Emily called for me, a smiling Sally said, “I
hope you are keeping his sustenance under control.” The word wise
Emily replied,” I have no control over his sustenance. He can do
whatever he pleases with it. I am quite happy with a large intake of
sustenance, as I never get fat.” Sally burst out laughing when Emily and I
were leaving and said, “Enjoy your fish and chips.”
     We sat in the corner of the back seat on the top deck of a bus that was
taking us to a show in Oxford called ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’.
The bus conductor, who noticed our closeness, said, “I’ll have no goings
on while you are on my bus.”
Emily replied, “He is my young brother and he’s feeling cold.”
“What he is feeling is not cold, young lady. Move apart.” During the
half hour ride, Emily mentioned Sally’s silly question about sustenance.
After I explained it to her, she told me that Sally’s education wasn’t as
broad as hers and that Sally would have to be informed so I wouldn’t get
a bad reputation. When we left the bus, Emily called the conductor a
‘frigging pervert,’ which were two more words I had never heard of
before. We had a different conductor on the bus on the way home. He
was more considerate and suggested I share my heavy coat with the
young lady, who was asleep and shivering. I removed my warm hand
from my glove and caressed her wobblies, which brought a beautiful
smile to Emily’s face.
     Emily brought me educational books she thought I’d find useful. She
saw the need to expand my communication skills. On a couple of
occasions, she left a list of questions to be answered. It was pleasing to
see her face light up when I gave a correct answer.
Miss Emily Jane Courtney-Cowper was an only child. Her young
ladies finishing school education and confidence were going to make her
a winner. My brief encounter with Emily had also given me a boost of
confidence in being able to parley politely and successfully with people,
particularly the opposite gender. I must say that the association I had
with Emily was a necessary part of my life. Without it, I might still be a
shy stick-in-the-mud who was going nowhere.I saw a lot of Emily
over the holiday. Her family was one of the
wealthiest in the district; she was a member of the ‘upper-crust.’ Emily
and I went to the cinema often and to a show in London. Because I was
broke, she paid and called the shots. I went along with her decisions.
Emily was manipulative in many ways but also had a knack of
handling any situation which arose with amazing dexterity. We spent
several evenings together and I found that she could also be an exciting,
loving friend. After twelve days of listening to her saying, “I have
decided,” her superior control freak thing finally got to me.
Remembering what I had learned previously, I also concluded that a rest
from our activities would prevent me from ‘going blind.’
When I said goodbye to Emily, who had to return to her Army unit,
her sniffles and watery eyes demonstrated her sadness. I explained that
her generosity and closeness as a friend had been a great comfort to me. I
told her she was a beautiful person with a beautiful mind and that
knowing her would make my life richer. Emily wiped a tear from my
face and we kissed. Emily then ran crying to where her Daddy stood. He
comforted her as he led her into their house. As the door closed, I was
overcome with sadness. (It would be another eight years before I saw
Emily again, but by then I would be more mature!)
Although I spent Christmas day at the Parker’s, most of my holiday
was spent at Sally’s house in Chiplington. Before Christmas I attended a
funeral. I was in the pub for the wake and became violently ill when
given a pint of beer to drink.
        About two days before returning to the school, I buried Sally’s pet
dog, Dane in her back garden. It took many hours of digging due to the
frost and the size of the hole. (Dane was a Great Dane.)
Emily’s mother, Mrs Caroline Courtney-Cowper, delivered me to the
train station at Paddington on Saturday 3 January. She was returning to
her business in London after the Christmas break to take part in the
January sales. Mrs Courtney-Cowper gave me ten shillings and told me
that there was something about me that she found likable but she didn’t
know exactly what. I smiled inwardly at her statement and then thanked
and complimented her on her generosity and for being such a beautiful
lady. Caroline (as she had asked me to call her) gave me her address in
London in case I was ever at loose ends. This nice lady then told me that,
as a member of the Parker family, I had become sociably acceptable and
had behaved admirably with her darling daughter,
It would be another six years before I saw this absolutely delightful
lady again.
     I arrived back at the school to find the police investigating the
mysterious death of Ricky Pinder. He had allegedly committed hari-kari
by using the weapon he would normally use to kill the pigs on the farm.
He was under a cloud of suspicion due to his supposed immoral activity
with boys at the farm. I expect that all the pigs on the farm would have
squealed with joy knowing his demise.
The day I left HNA,  7-1-42; To join The Royal Navy at 15.5 years of age,
 few of the nicer staff members gave me a few
pennies to spend on my journey. The school authority generously
contributed one shilling and a packet of sandwiches. Many boys came to
wish me good luck, some of whom I had had little to do with at the
school. Although I was glad to be rid of that dreadful school, I was going
to miss the friends I had made there over the years..  Fini.

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

Words For WEDNESDAY.


     These Words are here to assist you or confuse you in your .
efforts to compose a short story. These words must be used entirely within your own story. This is not an original Idea but evolves from other frequently visited blogs from which I find Interesting. VEST.

These words were selected from flipping the dictionary and poking with a pen...
You may write your story now if you wish , But my story will possibly be posted by tomoorrow.,

SECRET.
IRRITATING.
FORTY.
CANDOUR.
BUTCHER.
UNATTRACTIVE.
TRAINING.


Here goes.   "The sad tale of Stella Stickybeak."

      A lady ? of trying habits is Stella Stickybeak a scandal mongering spinster in the Parish  of Koobecaf in Joe Bonkers Bananaland where the trains travel past the proverbial black stump - whom all of us had experience of her (Irritating) chatter in the railway carriage - who would relate the gory details of her sons most, recent piles operation and add - it runs in the family. The (Forty) nine year old wrinkled chatterbox was also troubled with a similar unbridled (Candour) as her son - as she constantly moved her sitting posture. Her gift of deceit and (Training) in fibs which an (Unattractive) appearance imposes on some ladies is unfortunate but she goes on about and confesses like a fool her (Secret) life to her siblings and also the (Butcher) and the baker and the proverbial candle stick maker.
     There are many Stella Stickybeaks ,their (Irritating) whingeing  likes and dislikes they post on Facebook would ; making head or tail of them ; harder than to attend  to the (Training) of a deaf Rocking horse. 
       A lie has no legs, but a scandal has wings.


Vest Daily Gaggle.... Back soon with final episode of Emily.


Monday, 20 June 2016

Yes it's the Face book gooks again

Can't spell cant think Can't read Can't write no time to spare except use simple text such as "I Like " and "Not Like", Their peers who are Idolised like D Grade celebs because of their ability to write one liners which are used frequently like a graffiti signature painted on a public lavatory or bus shelter in order to impress thier inane followers, the easily lead.

The boring untruths of facebook

     I don't care a hoot if I insult you because you are a face book moron , it is about time you long time users and losers were told the truth
     Here I shall give you a few reasons not to like face book any more full stop.
    First of all Face book is always watching like a sweaty old middle aged bimbo or dirty old geezer whose only interest is immorality and depravity; take your pick. It is also a a source of anything likely to be of little use plus a guide to future depravity for the  unemployable school leavers expanding the dole queue's.. The predators mentioned watching  and recording every thing you like or desire and every ones info you have recorded, yes every one you have ever  visited..
     The face book man keeps are not simply filed away under I bet you wish we were not watching you so closely, your news feed is based on this info All of your past love trysts and agony plus the latest fleeting  romance as well as your on line history , is used to sell you stuff too..
     Most people I have read on Face book who are not celebrities always seem to be on the beach sunning themselves with their latest Spanish or froggy Lothario, others are renovating their newly acquired mansion on the Gold coast or some other upmarket area. and lying about enjoying the company of their half dozen offspring and cooking food few people have ever heard of.. Maybe these people have won big on lotto and given up on work, or some were devoted in their Quest to find the end of the Rainbow ; found it and moved there
     Face book is constantly experimenting on you, They tally up the info you have revealed and use it to sell you more stuff you really don't need. The only way I can see face book being of any face value is forget about chasing the approval of others, simply share the  things you have enjoyed with persons you may believe would enjoy them too.

Vest ....Back soon.

"Sweet as fragrant roses 'Tis to have a friend, on whom in gloom or sunshine we know we can depend"

Our 63rd Wedding anniversary celebrations,!


     It was a Chilly morning at 5 am when  we were woken from our slumbers. Having showered and dressed, at 6 am Rosemary  was leaving for the hospital  for Eye Surgery with  Chris our eldest son.
I was home alone with two hungry moggies, after breakfast , I prepared today's dinner and cleaned the kitchen , I then decided to go back to bed from 7-30 am and was wakened at 11 am  on the return of  Rose and Chris from the hospital . Shortly after a phone call from Timothy our No 5 son who is moving to Queensland and who; after singing "Happy Anniversary" requested financial assistance for his move. Tim is always mindful of 'Keeping up appearances' Mrs Bucket's Gay son Sheridan.- always broke.
     It is sunny today with a warm wind from the north - quite pleasant;  a change from the storms and rain, I am still in my pyjamas, must change soon as it is lunch time. ....No one seems interested in lunch, the hospital duo are sleeping off those early hours they missed, and I have just heard that No 2 son Anthony (Tony) is having a Hernia Op today 400 klms down the coast
     Here are pics  from the hospital The Guy in the mask is Doc Chris. and Rosemary the subject for Surgery.





Saturday, 18 June 2016

Random 'WORDS FOR SUNDAY.'



         These Words are here to assist you or confuse you in your .
efforts to compose a short story. These words must be used entirely within your own story. This is not an original Idea but evolves from other frequently visited blogs from which I find Interesting. VEST.

Base..Venus..Ditches  Frozen  Bedstead  Stupid  Time.
My story soon. This is a hard one from a flipped dictionary pages.selection


The Beaters.
As a child I found a tough way to supplement my Income was to act as a beater for the local gentry during shoots and various wildlife hunts. Our (Base) in Mill road manor house was the start and finish (Venue) where the spoils were counted and beaters paid usually about a half crown. Mind you it was a long (Time)  ago, when I was too young to know better; I was beagling on a snowy day and I got stuck with a girl whose name, as far as I remember, was Mary (Bedstead), and a perfectly (Stupid) hound named (Venus) Venus had to be lifted over fences and carried  across Brooks and Muddy (Ditches). Lord knows where the Hare and everyone else got to but I don't recall seeing any of them ever again.. Mary wasn't a good companion she  constantly whined and complained about her aches and pains,  however, In the course of time me and Miss (Bedstead) and (Venus) staggered back to (Base), (Frozen) exhausted and deeply fed up with each other. Yes we both got our half crown , but for what; the Lord of the manor would never know..
Foot note. Sadly, Mary B was never going to be an Emily.


Thursday, 16 June 2016

EMILY , (part 2)

Emily Part 2.

Emily told me we first met when she was fifteen at the time of Sally
and Adam’s wedding. I told her I didn’t remember her. Emily said she
was not surprised since I was quite tipsy and had fallen asleep on a chair.
She said she sat next me and held me in case I fell, and I had been very
naughty that day.
I was beginning to enjoy Emily’s company. She was so polite and
always smiled. She asked, “Do you have other clothing than what you
are wearing?” I told her I only had stuff I could wear around the house.
“Well in that case, dear boy, as I will be seeing more of you in the near
future, we will call into my Uncle and Auntie’s place in High Wycombe
in a little while for a cup of tea and fix you up with some swish duds.”
Emily explained that her Uncle Frank was a barrister (whatever that
was?) and he travelled a lot and was a frightful bore.
When we arrived at Emily’s Aunt’s house, the Daimler in the carport
made our Rover pale in comparison. I was fascinated by the two-seater
Morgan in the garage. Despite it being wartime, a time of austerity, this
large imposing residence reeked of wealth.
Emily was true to her word. Her Aunt, who had grown sons, was able
to provide me with loads of high quality cast-offs. Emily’s fifteen-yearold
cousin Dora, who was not a striking beauty, looked despairingly at
me in an attempt to chat me up. She asked if I was staying nearby. Her
mother replied that I was not and suggested that it would be better for
her to wait a little longer – maybe until the war was finished – before
asking. When we left, I took little Dora’s hand and kissed it, saying that
she would soon grow up to become a beautiful young lady. As she
curtseyed lightly and thanked me, I saw a tear in her mother’s eye.
While waving goodbye, Emily thanked me for being so nice to Dora.
“Poor little darling,” she said. “She is a sweet child but not very pretty.”
“Yes,” I said. “You must feel so lucky to be as pretty as you are. I have
really enjoyed your companionship and thank you for everything.”
Coming down the hill from the village of Stokenchurch, Emily
stopped the car and said, “It’s the tea at my Aunt’s. I must stop, as it will
be some time before I get home and I don’t like your Auntie Parker’s
toilet one little bit.”
“That’s better,” she said when she returned to the car. “Tomorrow I
will pick you up, so get cleaned up and be dressed smartly by just after
four. It will be dark then and no prying eyes.” Emily patted my head and
told me she was pleased she had found me. In addition, she said she
would like to share the rest of her holiday with me. Leaning over I kissed
her cheek and said “Thank you, pretty lady.”
Upon our arrival home at Charlham, Emily kissed me. To the staring
Parker family, kissing would in those days be like the prelude to an
engagement. Having completed the reunion pleasantries, I told Auntie
Parker that I had a date with Emily the following day, purely for pleasure
and nothing permanent. Auntie told me that Sally, her daughter-in-law,
would put me up anytime I was in Chiplington.
It was past four-thirty when Emily called to collect me the next day in
her daddy’s car. Her superior appearance, her aura, the Chanel No. 5
perfume, and her acceptance of me gave me a great deal of confidence.
We called into Sally’s place and I made my acquaintance with Dane,
Sally’s dog, which she had inherited from a deceased relative. Sally was
having problems, as the dog would not eat its food. After lots of hugs
from twenty-six-year-old Sally, whom I thought at the time was quite a
good hugger, I deposited my overnight bag and clothes.
Soon after arriving at Emily’s home, we walked the short distance to
the town centre. The provincial Cinema at Chiplington was where all
eyes would be on any new faces or, better still, pairs of faces. It was
rather dark in the cinema. Emily kissed me full on and placed my hand
on her left wobbly. For an almost sixteen-year-old, this was fun. Emily
spoke to an old person who was ogling us. She pointed to the screen and
called him a ‘Dick Wit.’
“Sorry, “she said. “ Army talk again.” Later at the fish and chip shop,
we managed to find a seat in a warm corner where Emily ate a much
larger portion of food than I could have managed. I looked at her in
disbelief. She grinned and explained that she had a high metabolism,
whatever that was. I thought it was probably some form of erotic
excitement. Emily’s foot was continually rubbing my lower leg under the
table, which could be seen by everyone in the slightly steamed-up mirror
behind the counter
Emily told me her fiancée was in Egypt with the army and having a
good time no doubt, whereas she had to be ‘intact’ for their wedding day
when he arrived home. I informed her that I, too, was unsullied and had
no intention of defiling her.
It was later that evening at Sally’s house that Emily said to me, “If
handled with care, it will probably not ruin our reputations.” We had
arrived back at Sally’s house about nine pm. The night was cold and
Sally had gone to bed. The open fireplace was a comforting sight. Sitting
close to the fire with hot drinks on a large rug, we were able to remove
our street coats. Emily, who I thought was never going to come out of the
bathroom, appeared all preened and cleaned and sent me off to do
likewise.
During the chatter that followed, she asked, “Please would you
scratch my back here?” She pointed to the area, saying, “It’s probably the
heat from the fire that’s doing it.” Emily took my hand and guided it
down her back. After saying; “Ah, that’s better,” she guided me around
to the front and told me to “scratch softly, dear boy.” I told her that to
touch such beautifully smooth skin was pleasing. She replied, “You are
such a darling with words.” After kissing me, she said, “John, dear boy,
would you rub the other spot that is itching?”
Guiding my hand, Emily said, “Slowly, darling. That’s better. Don’t
stop now. I will tell you when.” She then arched her back and her eyes
dilated. She said, “That was wonderful, dear boy.” We then hugged. At
that point, I had developed an ‘itch’ of my own, which was detected by
dear sweet Emily, whose obvious experience in removing itching in
sensitive areas had me concluding that she was quite happy to lend a
helping hand.
Emily, who had moved further away from the fireplace, had
redeveloped her former itch; which by now I was more able to detect.
Emily and I repeated a ritual similar to the first.
Following Emily’s discovery that my former itch had gone beddybye,
I kissed dear sweet little Emily and shot off up the stairs...
 Fini Part 2.
 More will be coming  soon.!!

Vest Daily Gaggle.

Monday, 13 June 2016

WORDS ON WEDNESDAY.


         These Words are here to assist you or confuse you in your .
efforts to compose a short story. These words must be used entirely within your own story. This is not an original Idea but evolves from other frequently visited blogs from which I find Interesting. VEST.

EASIER
BALL
ACTOR.
PLATOON.
DUKE.
UNHAPPY.
FROZEN.

     My story will be told on Wednesday. Vest Daily gaggle.    Here we go.

Being alone was dead easy or (Easier), I had long ago discovered, if you become two people, the actor and the observer. The (Actor) was always the same,The actor played many parts; a King, Sailor, or an officer in the French foreign legion for instance Or maybe a  English detective in London's Baker street or a gunner on Lord Nelsons Flagship popping a cannon (Ball) down the barrel of a hot cannon.
"There he goes", I was  able to say about myself, even in the deeply (Unhappy) days at that wretched boarding school when I ran around  a (Frozen) football field, keeping as far as possible from the (Ball), or cantering across the desert sands  on a camel leading my (Platoon of of ex robbers and murderers and at least one British (Duke) disappointed in love, in a charge against a dissident Arab Sheik  and his army of sabre wielding followers in that not too famous battle of Sidi Ding Dong, where  Arabs illegally 'Bricked' their camels at the water trough near the  date palm oasis. When I eventually stopped dreaming, my character became more sophisticated,  I then  came more under the influence of blogging  and discovering reality and that I was not the only person in this world who was a complete delusional.
Sorry Gotta go, My shrink is at the door.

Vest ...Back soon.

Friday, 10 June 2016

EMILY..Part one.


It was Friday, 12 December 1941. My last holiday from the school
started earlier than that of the other boys, as I was off to join the Navy in
January. That morning I was driven to the train station by my
headmaster, Mr Foran-Stein, whose nickname was the same as that of his
predecessor, Mr Frederick Hoskin. F S gave me a sixpenny piece and
walked with me to the platform, protecting me from the falling snow
with his umbrella. While waiting for the train, F S bought me a hot drink
and insisted he see me onto the train. I told him he would be late for
assembly. He said he doubted he would be on the wrong end of the stick
for being late. F S was married and his wife was a pleasant lady, but they
did not have children. They owned a dog which was dark in colour; with
a white band of hair around its neck, named ‘Parson’, I on many
occasions took Parson the dog for extensive rambles beyond the school
boundaries with complete immunity from the school authorities, that dog
was one of the nicer beings at the school. I asked F S to say goodbye to
Parson from me, he reminded me of the time when Parson got loose and
found me among three hundred boys on the parade ground and would
not leave me and I was ordered to take him home, which resulted in me
having lunch with him and his wife; instead of going to church.

     I was never rude to the headmaster who, like his predecessor, was a
person of quality. I also admired him because of his uncanny likeness to
my favourite cricketer, D.C.S Compton, whose income was
supplemented by advertising ‘Brylcreem.Also I had never received the
cane from him unlike his predecessor.’ I thanked him for his help and
generosity and told him he was not a bad bloke despite his occasional
fearful looks when angry. He replied that he had never before received a
compliment from any student in the school. F S then shook my hand and
I boarded the train. As the train pulled out, I waved. When he waved
back, he had a sad expression on his face.

      The train ride to London was uneventful. Two elderly women
travellers in my compartment informed me that it wasn’t in my best
interests to join the Navy and proceeded to tell me gory stories about
how sailors die in battle. It was somewhat frightening. At Paddington
station, I met the young woman who was a friend of Auntie Parker’
my Foster Mother in Charlham, Oxfordshire.
At eighteen plus, Emily was a very pleasant, attractive young lady.
She was not classically beautiful due to her height, but she had a very
pretty face. When she saw me, she came over and said, “John Spencer,
(not my real name) I presume. Emily Jane Courtney-Cowper.” I took Emily’s
outstretched hand, not certain what to do. Judging by her smile, the sparkle in her
eyes, and her bearing and eloquent speech, I assumed (from watching
old movies) that Emily was a lady of quality and that I was expected to
kiss her hand. This I did, saying “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am. I was
expecting to meet an old lady, not one as pretty as you.” By now, Emily
was giggling her head off. She said, “What a darling boy you are, but
come along now. We must rush, as we are attracting an audience.”
Emily told me she had learned to drive while in the ATS (Women’s
Army.) She was on two week’s leave and had borrowed ‘Daddy’s car’, as
she put it, for a fun drive to London to get me home to Charlham.  Emily
was a pleasant person to talk to. She had brown eyes, light brown hair,
and was about five feet three inches tall with a trim figure. I
complimented her on the scent she was using. She told me that in the
country, foxes have scent and ladies wear perfume. I told Emily it was
pleasing to be able to talk to a pretty lady who smiled a lot, wasn’t old,
and didn’t smell of disinfectant like the old bags at the school.
When Emily stopped laughing, she said, “We must pull in here by the
trees, as I must go for a pee. The cold weather does it to me. You’d better
go, too, as we have a fair way to go yet.
 End of part one. ( INTERESTED? THERE IS MUCH MORE)
Part Two  soon. 
Vest Daily gaggle

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

(1) An Adolescent

An excerpt from my past Part 1

Early 1940 – Wartime at HNA
Christopher, my brother, left the school to work in a factory near London.
He later joined the Royal Navy in January 1941.
The fifty senior boys at the school had access to WW1 303 short Le-
Enfield rifles with ammo, our own ‘Home guard.’
A Charlham Home guard member, Fatty Speed, was absent from
training on more than one occasion and was summoned and
subsequently fined. I was told he left the court, caught the bus straight
away, and fifteen minutes later bought cigarettes at the first shop in
Charlham, where the lady said, “I hear you got fined three quid, Fatty.”
He replied, “This is the only place I know where sound travels faster
than light.”
I was about fourteen years old when I was confirmed into the Church
of England and learned the catechism and Christian principles. I also
learned not to ask adverse questions about the teachings of the Bible. Our
holy man had a heavy hand. He told us that blind faith in the Lord
would guide us through our lives, and that the lack of faith in
Christianity was an unpardonable sin. When I asked Reverend “Holy”
Harling if his faith would save him if he jumped off a cliff after praying
for safety, he chased me round the schoolroom waving his cane. The
malevolent use of the ‘unpardonable sin’ doctrine years ago by Christian
churches justified their mass murdering, torturing, and burning of people
at the stake. Holy Harling was the reincarnation of Draco 659- 601 BC.
My nose had detected that the Bishop who conducted the
confirmation ceremony had been at the sacramental wine. Only once did
I attend Holy Communion. I just couldn’t swallow the dogma. The
thought of drinking the blood of Christ and eating his body were
inhuman and repulsive to me.
An older person replaced gunner Marten, who I mentioned earlier.
Since war and brutality were the things he enjoyed the most, Gunner had
volunteered to become involved in the war in 1939. It also provided him
with an opportunity to escape from his harridan of a wife who constantly
berated him with tongue-lashings. Mr Marten would then take it out on
us suffering boys. My wish for gunners demise on Dec22,36,when he
 thrashed me unmercifully,When I did a bunk from the school came to
 fruition in 1940 when he departed this world.
 He was killed in action doing what he did best. It was a sad
end for a sad bloke. “Sorry, Mr Marten. It was said in the heat of the
moment and it did hurt.”
Now Mr Long, who was Gunner’s successor and had a continual drip
at the end of his nose, was a weirdo ex-Royal Navy gunner’s mate. about
sixty-odd years of age, Mr Long was not as strict as his predecessor, but
an occasional thump on the head and ‘Pay attention!’ kept us on our toes.
I could hardly understand the gobbledegook he came out with, such as
naval gunnery instructional information that had been superseded long
before WW1. Occasionally, we would laugh at something funny he had
said. At least I assumed it was funny, as everyone else was laughing. My
mind was usually on other things, as I found Mr Long’s chuntering
brutally boring.
During the summer of 1940, a display of our various talents was to
take place in a nearby town. The more older and robust boys, who were
usually recruited from the lower end of 4B and 3B classes, were to give a
field gun display; similar to the one the Royal Navy does during the
Royal Tournament at Earl’s Court in London each year. The only
difference was that the field guns were smaller. I wasn’t considered big
enough for this tomfoolery, which often entailed breaking limbs and/or
losing fingers; my turn for that would come soon enough. The
entertaining program for the paying local yokels who had never seen this
boring stuff before would include marching displays, a rifle drill, the
sailor’s hornpipe, and a performance by the school band; which would
not play “Colonel Bogey” on these occasions, and would always choose a
different town each year for fear of a poor audience.
Our physical training instructor, Mr Grosse whose name fitted him
perfectly, could be described as an oversized George Leatherby. He
became very annoyed with Mr Long when loading the trucks with the
tournament gear. This resulted in a good old punch-up with heaps of
foul language. The “F” word that was used frequently during this foray
was greeted several times with cries of “Oooooh’s” from the boys, who
thoroughly enjoyed this unusual spectacle. The headmaster, Mr Foran-
Stein (whose nickname I shall not mention) fired Mr Grosse on the spot
and the show went on.
Mr Grosse’s replacement was a lady about thirty-five years of age, a
Mrs Sheridan, whose husband was serving in the Royal Navy. She was
an attractive woman who always wore a pleasant smile. Our normal
mode of dress for physical training was shorts; but this lady insisted we
wear gymslips, which to us seemed a bit feminine. She was previously
employed at a toffee-nosed girl’s school near London that was bombed
during an overnight raid by the Luftwaffe. The bigger boys seemed to get
a lot of attention from this lady, especially when they’d vault the box
horse and the gymslips would come adrift. Mrs Sheridan was eventually
fired for having it off with under-age boys. How sad.
My mother visited me at the school with her new husband during the
summer of 1940 when I was fourteen. I had last seen her when I was
nine. It would be another six years before I saw her again. I never found
out what happened to her other husband, as my mother was reluctant to
discuss the matter. After seeing the film “Arsenic and Old Lace,” I
wondered if he was buried in the cellar under the coal. Her new
husband, William Stanley Brown, who was three years her senior, stayed
with my mother until he passed away in March 1973. He was a
remarkable man, a saint of a person, a former Sick Berth Attendant in the
Royal Navy during WWI. My mother apparently possessed some
unusual hidden qualities because when they were together they seemed
content. I was now beginning to feel unrelated to my mother. I couldn’t
understand her long absences and had become accustomed to her
appearance every five years.
Part 2 Will be 'EMILY' Providing I receive sufficient demand.

Vest ....Back soon.

Monday, 6 June 2016

Words on Monday.

     These Words are here to assist you or confuse you in your efforts to compose a short story. These words must be used entirely within your own story. This is not an original Idea but evolves from other frequently visited blogs from which I find Interesting. VEST..

Discussion.
Enjoying.
Quiet.
Officer..
Lethargy.
Radio.
Personnel.

Later in the day I shall write my short story involving these words.     And here it is..

     This short story is of my own making and  relates to something I recall from the past Mid Sixties?

     At Charleston South Carolina,  I went ashore as the ships 'Limey' representative of the US Navy shore patrol. During a discussion, an American officer asked why I pronounced the rank of lieutenant 'Leftenant' and not Lootenant. "Both spell Lieutenant" I replied, But my pronunciation does not infer they live in Lavatories.
      Later we attended a domestic dispute at a trailer park housing married US Navy personnel. On our arrival, a very angry person with a shot gun fired at us shattering the windshield of our truck. The driver then backed up and the police were called to sort out the mess. A few minor incidents occurred later before I returned to my ship in the early hours. When I arrived I was asked " How did things go". I replied, "It was a very quiet evening according to the Yanks"
     A general feeling of lethargy and boredom was always present on that ship,Anyone denying this was probably enjoying life at my expense.
      While in Devonport England, I would go on weekend leave to Portsmouth where I lived , travelling in a friends car, Another passenger in the car was our Ist LT a LT/Cmdr  Much senior to me, who during the trip would ask awkward questions regarding the ship, I could tell  that he wasn't amused with some of my replies, especially when I told him I was writing a radio play about the funny goings on aboard our ship, hopefully for the 'Goon" show.'. He replied  "with you as its major performer, I have no doubt that it will be a great success"  he replied.
     ''No doubt at all, with you sir, being the major character' I answered. Our driver then uttered a remark - something about sailing close to the wind. Fini.

This week I shall be posting a short story,one in many episodes involving  Puppy love-war- Sex! travel.and more....If you are prudish or a wowser you had better not check it out. Bye for now





Friday, 3 June 2016

Words For Friday

These Words are here to assist you or confuse you in your efforts to compose a short story. These words must be used entirely within your own story. This is not an original Idea but evolves from other frequently visited blogs from which I find Interesting. VEST..

CHICKEN.
UNDERSTANDING
ACCENT
PROTECTION
STUDENT
INSTINCT
ORDINARY

 Go ahead, give it a go.

My genuine story follows.

BACK TO SCHOOL.    W N T S IN THE THIRTIES

     During school lessons, mild mannered schoolmaster Mr Fowler was flicked behind the ear with an ink shot from a rubber band, A boy named Crabby Harris did the job but somehow I got blamed, which  resulted in me being whacked around the ear by Mr  (Chicken) Fowler. After suffering enough, I jabbed a sharp nib pen up his rear end several times which stopped him beating me.
    Mr Fowler was off sick for a few days and I was found Guilty and received four of the best from  the headmaster.
When Mr Fowler returned I was moved up to 2 A class, Mr Stokes, the Master, was the Mr Chips of the school and revered by all
     George Leatherhead, an accidental  friend within 2 B class was a unusual boy and quite huge for a twelve year old,  his deadpan face would study you and then he would move on. and the best way to stay on side with him  was to be pleasantly polite. George was a nice boy, but easily led, he had a strange accent and his speech  always ended in a blur,  his understanding of the spoken word equaled his delivery, the only reason George was in 2 B  was that the school didn't have a 2 C or 2 D.
     George was very good at soccer, and when ever possible would hog the ball and kick everyone and anything that got in the way, he also had this 'White Knight" instinct, whereupon he would go to the assistance of the oppressed whenever necessary. It was  about a week after the news  Of Crabby Harris  getting me into strife with Chook Fowler filtered through. to George. and as I  was given a friend status by George he took it upon himself to beat the living daylights out of Crabby Harris.
George had no idea how to Box. explaining the rules to him fell on deaf ears, on one occasion in the boxing ring his opponent hit his face, so George head butted him and put the boot in, George when asked Why? he replied ' in his strange accent " youse its' mese Ise its youse back. later when the junior protection group was formed George was put to good use as the 'Hit man'.
Boy was it tough at that school.

Vest.... back soon.
















   

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Meow

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