Another Missing Pussy…

Regular reader ‘FiFi’ called the other reporting her cat missing in the area – you may have seen the posters dotted round the village…

‘Zak’ went missing near the old Upper Globe on Saturday 21st February. He’s a black male with white paws.

Zak

Anyone with information as to his whereabouts should call 07969430376

Thanks.

Pain In The…erm…Arm?

Regulars at the Kings were highly amused last night to – yet again – hear Fanackapan blame every little ache and pain he has on ‘angina’…

Angina, an (unfortunately) relatively common ailment among the older age group, caused by clogging of the arteries that supply the heart with its essential blood supply, commonly manifesting as a pain in the left arm, shortness of breath and a real urgent need to sit down and rest (among other things).

Fanackapan is more ‘young streak of piss and vim’ rather than the ‘relatively overweight and middle aged’ demographic that typifies the broad cross section of angina sufferers.

Nevertheless, once all the ‘I used to know a girl with acute angina – she had a lovely pair of breasts too!’ jokes had been exhausted, we decided to rechristen him – to ‘Fanackagina’ – just to see if it would stick.

In other news, one of Fanackaginas – and indeed, Barman Doms – current obsessions appear to be the ‘Real Doll‘ (link probably not safe for work).  With this in mind, Barmaid Tina has suggested that we organise some form of fundraising event or collection to purchase one to sit at the end of the bar in the Kings.  Though -  according to Fanackagina who has clearly studied the logistics of obtaining one in some detail – upwards of £1500 for the basic model may be a little excessive.

Fanackagina has promised to scour E-Bay for a second hand model…

Bus

Stressed?

It’s not been a good week so far, and today I woke up feeling particularly stressed, for various reasons. So, after a quick search for a cure on the internet, I found this:

Just in case you are having a rough day, here is a stress management technique recommended in all the latest psychological tests.
The funny thing is that it works.

1. Picture yourself near a stream in the mountains.

2. Birds are softly chirping in the cool mountain air.

3. No one knows your secret place.

4. You are in total seclusion from the hectic place called the world.

5. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.

6. The water is crystal clear.

7. You can easily make out the face of the person you are holding under the water.

See. You’re smiling already.

The gift of spare time.

Presented to me today by the credit crunch. Regular updates likely.

Posted by Wordmobi

Overheard…

‘Dom’s a bit pissed off – I’ve nicked most of his arses!’

‘They swabbed my nose. I asked why. They said ‘to check for MRSA’. I said ‘bloody hell, I’ve only been on the ward for 5 minutes!’

Rumours Of My Potential Demise…

…are greatly exaggerated.

Although the current frequency of updates on this website may suggest otherwise.

However – luckily- I am currently busy at work, necessitating early starts on the road in this filthy weather, and therefore no morning computer time in which to focus on the Old Heatonian.

Dribbly, who is currently in hospital having his foot fixed (although with any luck he will be allowed home over the next couple of days), was convinced enough that I was lying in a hospital bed mere yards from the ward on which he has been esconced for the last 10 days, to ring me and enquire after my health.  I suspect that he was misinformed by a local hospital porter, who may have noted the fragrant Mrs Funk visiting a relative on Ward 28 and automatically assumed that I was the lucky recipient of her calming words and patient ministrations.

This of course isn’t the first time that Dribbly has been convinced that I was in hospital.  Just the other week when I was in the hotel bar in London, warming up after the fire alarm had caused the hotel to be evacuated for half an hour, I received a call from Dribbly, who had been told that my old ‘arse problem’ had flared up again and was currently near death from septicemia.  Cheers Bakerboy!

The recent snow has spectacularly failed to bring the village to a standstill, although attendance at the local hostelries has been curtailed somewhat, with only the die hards maintaining a full atendance record.  We had lots of fun last week, watching the cars sliding down Emm Lane from the warmth of the Kings Arms.  We even planned to make some scorecards for the next time.

Fanackapan made a foolhardy attempt to get back home to Haworth – I felt it only reasonable to video his attempt up the road, in case he failed spectacularly in a comedic manner.  But he managed to get off quite easily, so I sighed with a mixture of disappointment and relief for the safety of my friend, and prepared to return to the safety of my pint of lovely lovely Stella, when suddenly, without warning, I was smacked in the side of the head with a well aimed snowball!

I looked around in disbelief, ready to give the suspected young whippersnapper a well aimed gentle but firm cuff round the chops in an effort to convince him (or her) that their behaviour was unacceptable, and send them on their way.  However, I was shocked to learn that my tormentor was none other than Mr Woo!

Perhaps, finally realising that any romantic overtures he may have played in my direction would be rejected firmly, yet gently, though without chance of appeal, he had resorted to the equivalent of ‘pulling my pigtails in the playground’, in a last ditch effort to get me to chase him, squealing, down the road?

Who knows?

I shook my head in disbelief, as he continued to pelt me with a flurry of hastily constructed snowballs, screaming ‘Mr Woo!!  My revenge!!’, the tears of frustration quite possibly streaming down his cheeks.

Bless.