Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

That would depend on the considered opinion of The Spoliation Advisory Panel,Jem. If an item is considered of historic value,the 'moral obligation' is generally considered of prime importance for it's return. See if you can find the news items regarding a John Constable painting titled 'Beaching a boat'. I was reading about that painting & the case for returning it by the Tate just a few weeks ago,strangely enough. The SAP can only ADVISE and/or recommend it's return,they cannot legally DEMAND it,as it's 'assumed' it was plundered by Nazis occupying Hungary-but never proven so.
It made big headlines at the time of it's discovery...but as nobody could PROVE it was stolen,the word to heed regarding it's return is 'advisory',as the moral obligation is exactly that-an obligation of morality. The law per-se would have no say in the matter of your 4xgreat-grandfather's ownership of the candlesticks-or otherwise-as they could only SURMISE they were stolen,not offer evidential PROOF. Ergo,the onus is upon a court to PROVE they were stolen-and,notwithstanding the knowledge of D Turpin Esquire's somewhat lax attitude to ownership,the law remains the same...innocent until PROVEN guilty,beyond all doubts. So-there would remain the possibility that your 4xgreat grandpappy had WON them,been paid with them instead of cash,or even BOUGHT them-for,slim though these possibilities may be,they have to be accepted into the equasion of legal standing and given value as alternatives to "Yeah,well your 4xgreat grandpa stole stuff,...so 'e musta knicked'em-hand'em over!"
Because no matter how slim the chance they were legally acquired,that chance has to be acknowledged-acknowledged as a perfectly good plausibility,unless or until proven otherwise.
So-you'll have light in the parlour tonight,m'lord!

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Surely who ever made them in the first place has legal title over them, just ask the Butcher and the Baker.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

A senior citizen drove his brand new Jaguar XE out of the dealership. Taking off down the road, he pushed it to 80 mph, enjoying the wind blowing through what little hair he had left. "Amazing,” he thought as he flew down the motorway, pushing the pedal even more.



Looking in his rear view mirror, he saw a police car, blue lights flashing and siren blaring. He floored it to 100 mph, then 110, then 120.



Suddenly he thought, “What am I doing? I’m too old for this!” and pulled over to await the officer’s arrival.



Pulling in behind him, the officer got out of his vehicle and walked up to the Jaguar. He looked at his watch, then said, “Sir, my shift ends in 15 minutes. Today is Friday. If you can give me a new reason for speeding – a reason I’ve never before heard – I’ll let you go..”



The old gentleman paused then said, “Three years ago, my wife ran off with a Traffic Officer. I thought you were bringing her back.”



“Have a good day, Sir,” replied the officer.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Thank you for that easy to follow and very interesting reply Pug, much appreciated.
So I can now go ahead and flog the candle sticks, make up a good historical yarn to go with them and they should fetch a good price well that’s what they all do, God bless you Dick Turpin.
I just hope it doesn’t get out in the jewellery trade that he was an ancestor of mine, I wouldn’t be trusted with a marble set in shite, never mind a diamond ring.

Nice repartee there Spitty.

Love that yarn Gunbud.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

While golfing, a senior gentleman accidentally overturned his golf buggy late one afternoon.

A very attractive, young female golfer, who lives in a villa on the golf course, heard the noise and called out, "Are you OK?"

"I’m OK, thanks," he replied, as he pulled himself out of the twisted buggy.

She said, "Come up to my villa, rest a while, and I’ll help you get the cart up later."

The old guy noticed her silky bathrobe was partially open, revealing what appeared to be a very nice figure.

"That’s mighty nice of you," he answered, "but I don’t think my wife would like it."

"Oh, come on now!" she insisted.

She was so pretty, and very very persuasive.

He was weak. "Well, OK," he finally agreed.

After a couple of Scotch and sodas, he thanked her and said, "I feel a lot better now. But I know my wife is going to be really upset. So I’d better go now."

"Don’t be silly!" she said with a smile, letting her robe fall slightly more open.

"Stay for a while. Your wife won’t know anything. By the way, where is she?"

He replied, "Still under the buggy I suppose."

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

There’s not enough Fund
That’s in the news today
Could be just beyond the Bund
We’ll know for sure in May
If only there was more
The Cyclist would not Die
The Park Life we’d adore
And we’d pay a Cyber Spy
See the problem when your strapped
Is, to want stuff just ain’t Apt
Don’t matter what’s on the Tele
As long as you Fund your Belly.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Good on yeh Spitty.


Horses on the Brain.

Young Folks around here are starting to talk funny, alright I know there are many different nationalities in Dublin now than when I was a young man. We were talking in the pub yesterday about racing, famous racing horses of bygone days. One young man in the company obviously hadn’t a clue what we were talking about as he probably wasn’t even born when some of these horses were in training, he shook his head and said something strange “Count me out, I don’t know Jack Shit”
Well us three old lads looked at each other with inquiring faces, old Freddy was the first to speak “I’ve been following racing since I was fourteen and I never heard of a Jack Shit, was he a jockey or a trainer?” Tom was next in “I think I can place him now, wasn’t he that Australian trainer who send over Black Falcon to win the Irish Sweeps Derby at the Curragh back in 1966?” Then Rory butts in “No yeh eegit, that was an English horse and Jack Shit never trained it, it was Sir Gordon Richards, and it was ridden by the great Lester Piggiott” Then they started to argue, one saying Piggott didn’t ride it and another saying Black Falcon wasn’t the name of the horse, needless to say the young man had finished his pint and had gone back to work sorry that he opened his mouth in the first place. I left them to it and made me way home, still none the wiser who Jack Shit is or was, I do know one thing for sure, if you follow horses all you’ll get for your trouble is horse shit..

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Here’s one for Valentines, you can hear the song on Youtube, I don’t know how to copy the music links. I haven’t heard this since the 1950’s, me granny used to play it on the radiogram in the parlour when her sons and they’re mates came back from the pub on Saturday nights, looking at the lyrics written down now I think they are very clever. This is not a well known song possibly because it was the 'B' side of one I can’t remember just now, it was like the time Cliff Richard released “I love you” on the ‘A’ side and “Kiss me” on the ‘B’ side, nobody remembers kissing him on the backside.
Another very popular record she had at that time was Slim Dusty singing “the Pub with no Beer”, but maybe that’s all before your time chiiselers.




NOBODY LOVES LIKE AN IRISHMAN
(Jim Currie / Lonnie Donegan)

Lonnie Donegan

Also recorded by: Miki & Griff.


Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum
Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum

Hey! A turbaned Turk who scorns the world
May strut about with his whiskers curled
Keep a hundred wives under lock and key
For nobody else but himself to see
Yet long must he pray with his Al Koran
Before he can love like an Irishman
Long may he pray with his Al Koran
Before he can love like an Irishman

Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum

The gay monsieur, a slave no more
The solemn Don and the shocked Senor
The Dutch Mynheer, so full of pride
The Russian, Prussian, Swede beside
They all may do whatever they can
But they never, never love like an Irishman
They all may do whatever they can
But they never, never love like an Irishman

Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum

Now the London folks themselves beguile
And think they please in a capital style
But let them ask as they cross the street
Of any young girl that they happen to meet
And I know she'll say from behind her fan
Nobody loves like an Irishman
I know what she'll say from behind her fan
Nobody loves like an Irishman

He-ey! Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum

(Instrumental Break)

Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum

So I want you to know just how much I care
And the rest of my life with you I'd share
I love your face, your hair, your smile
It's just as sure as I come from the Emerald Isle
It must be clear to your lovely eye
No boy will love you better than I
It must be clear to your lovely eye
No boy will love you better than I

Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum
Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum
Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum
Dum-dum-a-dimmy, dum-a-dum

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

That is beautiful jem, may it never be Dumbed down.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

I know a fella
'Jem' is his name
An eye for the ladies
THAT was his game.
He never wine'd 'em
That wasn't his trick
But he kept 'em well fed
With several inches of pri...[drat-I can't think of a rhyme for 'trick']