Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Why, thank you RJ, not bad for 6.48am, Inverted Hypnagogia can be very a very creative micro period.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Why thank you RJ, my parents brought me up to be a good catalist, I go to mass every Sunday and confession once a month.

I have me fingers crossed for ya Pug, hope it goes well.
The thing about government officials is they never do anything in a straight line, black and white, they have to get there in twists and turns, complicate everything, gives them something to talk to each other about over endless cups of tea.
I think the head lads have great fun sending out fellas looking for Islands, they have a special section called “Columbus” where all the new lads are tested, so if a poor unfortunate civil servant ever manages to find an Island one should not be too harsh on him, remember he has come a long way, he’s tired and confused just like Columbus, offer him refreshments and the company of any loose young females who might be hanging around, offer him shelter for the night, but whatever you do don’t fall into the trap of exchanging your boiler for a string of glass beads, if you do it will be the end of all the natives on the island.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

I was a thinking last night about a fella I used to work with back in the eighties, he was a first class diamond mounter, but a very soft and easily led chap. He was a good guitar player too and played in a band that later went on to be nationally famous.
He became a victim of the great heroin epidemic that took thousands of young folks lives in Dublin in the eighties, most of them from decent respectable families, what a terrible waste of young promising people.
He eventually lost his job and all interest in everything, he was also gay which wasn’t so well accepted even in the 80’s. I went to see him on the Christmas Eve of 1988 at his room in the city centre, it was in a terrible state and so was he, but he still knew me even though I couldn’t make out a word he was saying, his words were all over the place and made no sense to me at all.
I’ll never forget the lost look in his eyes, the poor chap died of an overdose in that filthy room a week later on New Years day, rest his soul.
I had brought him a bag of groceries, milk, bread, ham, cheese, that sort of thing, he had pleaded with me for money but I refused, I was glad later because if it had been my money that bought the drugs that killed him I don’t think I could have lived with that.


Spare a thought for the lone addict at Christmas time.

Sleigh bells hanging upside down on the floor
Folks with bills knocking at the door
Needles to the left and needles to the right
Dirty clothes hidden under the sofa out of sight

Two electric bars going full blast
Highs to come and highs of the past
Santa’s wearing a technicolor suit
And the clock looks like a bowl of fruit

The hard slice of toast on the plate
Is quivering at an alarming rate
And the dried beans beside it glow
Polished gold for all I know

Now my head hurts and my eyes won’t open
Too much lying around smokin’ and mopin’
To hell with Christmas it’s only for creeps
Give me plenty of fixes and plenty of sleeps. (Mars Barr)

God help them all.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

JEM, that is something to consider.


I recall these words from Tennyson, and couldn't help drawing comparisons with your unfortunate friend and the unseen hordes of souls heading for oblivion.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

I'm witcha there,Jem. Had a really good friend-also a fellow guitarist of quality,who died from that shit. HOW an intelligent,amiable,gifted man can become so easily turned into a mumbling,shuffling,anything-for-a-fix lost cause STILL doesn't make sense to me. I got into a spot of bother with the 'authorities' [authorities my arse,you cowardly losers!] because I made my feelings regarding the scum that was dealing that shit VERY plain to them when he was found dead. [don't ask] Suffice to say those arsewipes were a TAD discouraged to discover not everyone's scared of 'wellards'. Fukkem.
Right...moving on,to more joyous topics....gums,'bloody norah' is thought to have originated as a Cockney term;namely, "Flaming Horror".
T'is said that,Cockneys being so minded,the 'g' of "Flaming" & the initial "H" of 'horror' were,as tends to happen with Cockney speech,often dropped-thus it became "Flamin' Orror",which,over the years,became "Flamin' Norah!" and finally the somewhat stronger expletive "BLOODY Norah!"

Now ... that may sound somewhat unlikely. But,fear not,for there IS an alternative explanation. Ready? Good...

In THIS version,Norah was a 17th century kitchen servant of the Duke of Wodintonshire,who killed a fellow servant,earning herself the soubriquet "Bloodstained Norah" for her deed. Now-t'is posulated that the expression originated with the Duke himself,as whenever he regaled his fellow peers with the story,a thing he oft did,as he grew older and suffering a modicum of senility,he'd refer to that particular female kitchen servant as "Bloody Norah". Right...YOU decide which is more likely...[ho,ho,ho!]

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

OK, there is a Cockney Connection, were there any Apples and Pears in the Orchard?

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

God I think I 've missed a day out hic hic and double hic pass me the hooka jar doll!

On the 22nd day before Xmas my true love said to me
Have you checked the ‘lights’ doth work? No more fires
Like we had last year! Pass me the port again!
Only three more days
Two gentle farts; one quick pee ; God I ‘ve gone and missed the pan
And a partridge in a pear tree??

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

erhm - just a thought - do you have any road/street signs with names on them and something like ""causway this way"? jut askin cos if you ever asked us all over for chrissie one year I wouldn't want to get lost ??

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

why would anyone want stairs in the orchard unless of course there was an associated barn for the storing of such? oh and a loft to wrench the wenches??

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

funny how ya memory plays tricks with ya - [ now there's another conundrum to play with] - but I cannot for the life of me visualize clearly xmas day in our place - it must have been a none event - something for adults only. whereas new years eve is vividly etched as the table was fully set for a meal at midnight at which us kids were allowed to partake.

my one and only sister and I have great fun and curiosity asking each other what we remember together - it is never the same - how peculiar! is that called split enz memories??