virtual crazy gang, part II

[Varley]

You almost gave me a fit. "out of Havanas" is what I heard. Almost as bad as "out of Port". Would the vegan spirits be angry if I had no acceptable comestibles for them to haunt overnight?

Latte? Bugger. That really gums up the sliprings of the rotary television thing. Are you sure those cellophane wrapped disc are not spares for the carbon pile voltage regulator?

[Farmer John]

My last smoko was an inch thick cheese sandwich and a pint mug of strong tea with conny onny stirred in.

ES, is someone joking at your expense? Latte is a means of charging £5.00 for some rather weak milky coffee as far as I know. I believe the pushers of such slutch are known as "baristas", in the same way that lavatory attendants are called comfort station facilitators. Fie.

Varley, the Havanas will be replenished, and currently the stocks are fine.

[Tmac1720]

Did somebody say smoko?... I have a nice supply of Woodbine, Park Drive and Capstan full strength if any of you lot are brave (or daft) enough.

I understand Varley gets his supply of Havana's from Bill Clinton's private humidor.... the ends are damp and smell fishy.

[Farmer John]

Capstan Full Strength were very good for you, one deep drag and you got 10 minutes of good breathing exercise and a good clear out of the bronchy'oles. Very strengthening.

[Engine Serang]

Park Drive, what a suave bugger you must have been. With a Park Drive and a jacket from C&A you were a lady killer.

[billyboy]

I think its only his underpants he gets from C & A. He likes to be sure they are the right way round see.

[Tmac1720]

Originally Posted by billyboy

I think its only his underpants he gets from C & A. He likes to be sure they are the right way round see.

Wrong sire, injuneers always go commando, ready for any contingency and besides it keeps the smell of the stale pish down Mind you skid marks can be hard to remove from a boiler suit but when necessary can be disguised with oily streaks

[Tmac1720]

I remember going ashore once in my best suit, a guy at the bar asked if I got it from C&A. "how did you know"? says moi..... "mine didn't fit me either" came the reply.

Anyhoo I had to take it back as it was too tight round the crotch, unfortunately when I got there the only assistant available was a young innocent looking lady (very rare in old Belfast) Not wishing to embarrass her by telling the real reason for the return I simply asked "do you know the ballroom in Arthur Street?" she though for a minute and replied "there is no ballroom in Arthur Street" "aye well there isn't any in these trousers either"

[Engine Serang]

Perhaps you dressed to the left!

"Injuneers always go commando", not strictly true. I occasionally go commando but always wear my bicycle clips. And as for the smell of stale whatyoumacallit, I'm an Officer not a bullock.

[Farmer John]

Docking Havana tomorrow, we will be disposing of our Violet scented lozenges and taking on cigars and a new set of pistons, rods and bearings for our elderly generator, you know, the one Tmac sleeps alongside and polishes bits of whenever he is feeling masheen-soppy.

Tmac, you know what I mean.

[Engine Serang]

Tmax often feels Masheen-Soppy, she's a lovely girl and quite sporty.
A note of caution is appropriate as Pres Trump has taken a bit of a dislike to Cuba and we may not make it to Savanna for St Patricks Day. T and me could be close to mutiny.

[Varley]

I hope we get to the smokes before Mr. Clinton (or anyone else with soggy ends). Cuba to Savannah before 17th March? We either need a new navigator or a new generator for Tmac to fondle.

[Farmer John]

Mr Clinton has not damaged all cigars, be assured. There may be a slightly suspect tinge to the ones rolled on the upper thigh of a Cuban lady, this will not be noticed when smoking.

[Engine Serang]

Mr Churchill smoked but unlike Tmax he rarely had 10 Woodbine in his jacket pocket.

[Farmer John]

He probably had 50 Capstan Full Strength and a fathom of twist just to keep him going. Anyone coming ashore, or are we all dreaming in our reclining armchairs?

[billyboy]

to the shore...the shore I say!
now that looks like a cosy wee bar over there FJ make a good starting point for our hostel survey of these parts.

[Engine Serang]

All quiet on the Western Front, me hearties, all quiet. Shipmates alone in their cabins doing Jig-Saws and slowly going blind. We know more pleasurable ways to go blind.
Yo Ho Ho and a pair of bifocals.

[Varley]

It's rather quiet. You don't suppose they are doing a dry-January do you? Or perhaps HuaSARS? (or perhaps I just can't make out the crowded throng without my spectacles).

[billyboy]

only quiet due to it being early. Bet this place will soon fill up at Happy hour though

[Engine Serang]

The thought of Tmac eating a bean burger and sipping a diet coke is unsettling, very unsettling. And it could catch on. Perhaps not.
Nothing raises the mood of Jolly Jack on a dark, wet Febury evening than the aroma of a hot whiskey, a bowl of Irish Stew with onioney champ. As we say in East Antrim:-
Champ, champ, gie us mair champ
Wairms yer sowl when its cowl an damp
Champ, champ on yer plate
Wae a wadge o butter hi, herd tae bate.

I may be being carried away, its the lack of rib-eyes.

[Varley]

Never try that fare in England. Until I tried that produced by a Hibernian lady (with trepidation) I could only shudder at the memory of so called Irish Stew that was the school food of the devil that followed me from kindergarten through to going to sea. It was not only the low point of food in three different establishments but a low point in life

A grey supporting discharge around a deadly reef of sheep gristle, potato and something greenish with the ability to survey its victims with eyes conjured by Macbeth's hell broth chefs from pearl barley. Unless lucky enough to get a later ladleful, a vile scum that would have defied Alfa Laval had it been put to the centrifuge, cloaked much of the surface without improving the appearance one jot.

Even now said lady omits the pearl barley when I am lucky enough to be offered the (almost) real thing.

[Engine Serang]

It must be a nightmare having you to dinner. The hostess's of Douglas must say to themselves, "Bugger it Old Varley, old finicky Varley, is coming to supper, what in gods name can we give him"?
Phone calls and texts to Fortnum & Mason results in foie gras and partridge DHL'ing its way over the Irish Sea. M'Lady consoles herself that at least he will be content with supermarket Port.

At least your criticism of Alfa Laval is justified, they generally couldn't handle Saudi's finest without breaking another Fourth.

[Farmer John]

Well I found Varley's "Swan-a-la Durian" very acceptable when we had our little stop over.

[Engine Serang]

Mr V thinks Swan is a beer from W Australia.
Is Durian the fruit that smells like No. 2's? Most things in Moaning Mona smell dodgy so the Durian could be a grapefruit.
On the stop-over V treated us all to a night on Okells and bloody good it was, aroma of hops was pure nostalgia after years of Tennants and bloody Watneys London Lager. Perhaps it should be a regular R&R port.

[billyboy]

Durian is great if it is a native variety. I dont likt the hybrid Durian. "tastes like heaven and smells like hell" eat loads of it in season here as we have relatives growing it on a rather remote farm.