General Chat

*denies arthritis rumour - it's an industrial injury* But I'm not saying which industry, she adds mysteriously - before heading off to straighten her hair.

ROFLMAO excellent , very funny

CHAPTER SEVEN Over At the “Chip “n” Fin, the chip shop next door to the bookies, Jean Etta Slobovich ws switching on the fryers, ready for the evening session. Everbody admired jeans battered haddock, though people did tend to have to stand downwind of her when she was out and about. Jean did a lovely line in battered cucumbers too, but they only seemed to sell when the Grrr Arms was hosting a Hen night…. Cant think why…. Jean Etta was putting on her apron when she noticed Guin de Vere, hurrying into a taxi down the street. “ ah, she;s a rum one that Guin” jean said to herself “ whatever has she got in that suitcase?” Just then, a loud thump came form upstairs in the flat above the chippy. Daniel O’donnel her lodger was always dropping things, mainly dead animals. Jean, prayed constantly that the environmental health dept didn’t get wind of Daniels Strange Exploits. Dan, was a scouse (nearly) taxidermist from Birkenhead, on the run from the Youth Police for being far too grown up for his own good. Jean agreed to put him up on the strict instructions he wasn’t to play any cliff Richard records or start smoking a pipe. Instead, Dan seemed to spend most of his time, flitting his affections between Rebecca MelonChest and poor Lemonella, oh and stuffing his hand up dead badgers arses. “strange lad that” thought jean. As well as the chip shop, jean Etta also ran a Wednesday group called H.A.S (BEANS) ( Haddock appreciation society). She had a stong gathering of Yorkshire born ladies who liked nothing better than to get rip roaringly drunk on lambrini and eat copious amounts of pontifract cake. Jean Etta popped the prepared chips into the Fryer, chucking in some battered curly wurlies for good measure (her friend SusieSmithes favorite). “There we go” jean said putting on her hair net “ ready for business”….

I'm crying with laughung here! LOL LOL

* wonders if Bec has seen her nickname * roflmao, pmsl etc etc Maz. XX

er.... i dont think she has :))

roflmao and pmsl even more then !!!!!!!

oops ;))

Lol! This is really funny Em. Looking forward to the next chapter :o) Helenxxx

Can't think how I missed this, Em. Very very funny, having to stifle my laughter at work. :-)

I hope nobody is offended by this.... just honest good fun.... cross my heart and hope to whatsit ;))

Really funny Em and I wont be offended for one, as long as my citrus charms win over bazookas lol XX

*wonders where her love interest is* 'suggests Johnny Depp*

in yer dreams gwynne! pmsl

dreams are good - a fantasy sequence, perhaps? *hopeful* Gwynne

CHAPTER EIGHT Jim Branswing (grandad jim to all his friends), Was just coming out of the bookies when he caught sight of howie, crossing the street from Babs Bouffant hair salon. Jim, went everyday to the bookies, always placing a bet on the 2;30 at Doncaster.. even when Doncaster wasn’t racing…. He caught up with Howie.. “phoar” jim exclaimed “Whats that smell?” he sniffed the air around Howie. “er, not sure Jim” said Howie quietly, leaning into jim as he spoke, “ I think its that airfreshner babs keeps using as a deodorant. Bit strong isn’t it” “Fancy a pint Jim?” they had just reached the pub entrance, “ ooh, not sure mate “ Jim sucked his teeth in” ( they never fitted properly after that incident with the bicycle tyre last week) “that Ms daisy is alwys in there and her yak blanket gives me hayfever” “ she’s on holiday jim” howie replied “ gone on a Mongolian cookery course in Rhyl” “ oh aye, Howie” jim mused, “ and what do Mongolians like to eat then I wonder” “ not sure jim, roast yak in baileys I think” They both entered the pub, scanning who was in as they walked over to the bar. Sadly, betty Camberwell the landlady had retired a couple of weeks ago. She was very much missed and her regulars were very sad to see her go, but understood her reasons. The brewery was advertising for a new tenant, and the pub was being run in the meantime by Mazerella pendereast. Part time barmaid, part time DHSS spy. Maz loved her job at the pub, and dearly wanted the landlady;s post, but the brewery were rather concerned about the huge sudden drop in babycham profits when maz was working. “Evenin you two, usual is it?” maz cheerily went to get some glasses, and Jim had a quick scout round. “ look who’s over there in the corner howie” jim nudged Howie and nodded over to the far corner of the bar. “eh” Howie swung round “ oh, I see” he smiled He raised his voice over the chatter of the pub “ how you doing NancyAnna?” Miss NancyAnna Marple looked up from her knitting “ oh” NancyAnna paused “yes” she paused again ( she did a lot of that… pausing) “ hello dears, how nice, do come and sit down” NancyAnna patted the empty chairs beside her, and popped her knitting in her bag. Miss Nancy Anna Marple was in the pub most eveings, knitting tea cosies for Africa, and sipping on a pint of Abysinth. Jim and Howie collected their drinks from the bar and went over to sit with nancyanna. “ That’s it dears, sit down “ she smiled. “ guess who I just saw getting into one of them Sheilas wheels taxis with that Steve Mc Boffin?” Nancy didn’t pause for an answer, and carried on Jim and howie exchanged puzzled glances “ yes dears, and… “ NancyAnna paused (again) “ I know WHERE she was going too”………

no maz... dont shout at me! lol

*hopes it's Johnny Depp's flat*

Johnny Depp doesnt have a flat!

Mansion then, whatever, I'm easily pleased. *applies lippie in eager anticipation*