“When your mother asks, “Do you want a piece of advice?” it’s a mere formality. It doesn’t matter if you answer yes or no. You’re going to get it anyway.”
Erma Bombeck
Two novel approaches to Mother’s Day were confessed to at The Scruffy last weekend. Firstly, Big Al, aged 61 but still insisting on wearing short pants to the pub, generously announced that he had opted not to take his washing to his Mum’s, giving her a weekend off.
She’s getting two bin-liners next week but as she volunteers at a charity shop nobody is quite sure what he might be wearing in future. And Five Pints greeted Mission Control with an offer she could hardly refuse.
“I told her to take a day off from the ironing” he said rather proudly “Do it tomorrow instead!” Her response was simply not printable.
As for me, well my dear old Mum can be a wee bit forgetful these days. On viewing the presented bottle, she looked me between the eyes with that well-known gaze and said “What have you done now?”
Protest was futile.
Arthur Daley Lives
“‘Ow do you fancy some cheap soap for the club?” came the question from my anonymous source. Keen as ever to save a few quid, I replied in the affirmative conditional upon the said product not having corrosive qualities – literally and physically. “No worries it’s free and clean!” came the reply.
I came home to find my greenhouse full to the rafters of enough toiletries to take me through to my dotage but what a strange collection. Passing as hand soap this season will be vanilla blush aromatic body wash…gently massage until your skin is enveloped in a sensuous lather it urges. Fat chance with a beer waiting after another day chasing leather under a hot sun.
Into the bargain we also have umpteen bottles of bright blue shampoo which looks like de-icer. This claims to help promote thicker, fuller and healthy looking hair which is a bit late in the day for a few of the lads, especially Team 1’s skipper.
Throw in some all over body lotion – caffeine (really!), seaweed extract and cocoa butter and some in-shower self-tan lotion called Fake Me! – and Saturday nights out this summer may take on a different edge. God knows what the Aussie will make of it.
Of course we do have one or two who are not shy of a sunbed. Equally, if all the lads take this on we could end up looking like a touring team. I can hear Fred Trueman turning in his grave.
“Never in my day!”
Vorsprung Durch Teknik
{Bradford translation – “Fookin’ ell dem Audis is fast!”}
The local rag came up with another scoop the other day proclaiming the Volkswagen Golf was the most stolen car in the district last year. The Audi A3 and its variants (quiet little runabouts such as the S3 and RS3) was the third most popular target. You don’t say I hear you shout!
What a fall from grace for a car that so typified several generations of us growing up with it’s style and reliability. A local spokesman contacted me with the following quote.
“Man dem things is so easy to nick and dey fly bro!” he said “Me get me shipments out twice as fast!”
Herr VW offered us a short statement. “Ve are pleased zat so many pillars of ze local community demonstrate ze strong family links by ensuring uncles and aunties are never short of prescriptions; ze German pharmaceutical industry salutes you!”
We asked Bradford Council for a comment but nobody was available to say anything remotely sensible.
Jones The Mower Reveals All
Many of you will have driven past cricket grounds coming back to life again in readiness for another season. The smell of freshly cut grass and a variety of patterns woven into the lush green turf are a sign that the summer madness looms again.
As we surveyed the field the other day, Jones the Mower confessed he had settled on his favourite pattern for the season ahead, having mused over it most of the winter. And then he told me the secret configuration; clockwise and anti-clockwise circuits of the ground that left it looking as gorgeous as a Prom Queen.
I started to write the secret formula down for the odd wonderful afternoon when chance came to deputise. He looked at me, nodded his head slowly and took the paper from my hand.
Secrets are forever it appears as The Mower wandered off proud of his new crop circles.
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