I had to stop reading at that point. I didn't want to know what happens next.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
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I had to stop reading at that point. I didn't want to know what happens next.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
:lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by MarkBastable
Bed crumbs - 'tis the very devil's work. It's like a somnambulist's scourging is what it is.
Stiff upper lips to the fore, as England get spanked by Pakistan in the cricket.
I rememer some japery that went wrong by the then young and frolicsome Mrs P involving a vacuum cleaner and my left testicle - I still pale at the sound of a Goblin starting up!
Good job it wasn't a Dyson with root cyclone technology. I'd choose the goblin if it ever came to it.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Not that it would - we have a very functional but effective Henry. The turbo head might prove to be a problem with the spinning brushes.
It is now 14 hours since our beloved TV remote went missing. I last saw it in Grandchild Number Two's hands, it seemed happy enough, flicking randomly through channels and menus, there was no indication anything was wrong. Then last night we couldn't find it inspite of an intensive search. Admittedly it has done this before - gone missing for an hour or two but it had always turned up. We have recently been working hard to show that it is loved and appreciated, given it it's own special place on the mantle shelf and have just provided it with a new set of Duracells!
So if anyone knows anything of its whereabouts please get in touch, At the veryleast me and my family need closure, we need to know what has happened , so that we can get on with our lives.
Commiserations. I know how you feel. It will turn up again. Do you have an old video player? We used to find things stuffed in there by our small children.
We recently lost the DVD remote which I found after I had dropped the TV remote down the back of the bookcase. We also have a Freesat remote, which sits next to the remote for the gas fire. What would be good would be a remote built into the settee or armchair.
So did we. Jam sandwiches, mostly.Quote:
Originally Posted by Paulclem
http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/...S._AA1000_.jpg
Couldn't resist
[EDIT: Actually on a bit of a cross thread, it's tunable - meaning that it can be worn into any pub with a television which can then be remotely turned off]
Haha !! except what happens when you take it off and the rug rats get their greasy paws on that?Quote:
Originally Posted by MystyrMystyry
A tried and true, incapable of being lost remote, that my late father invented, consists of one 10 ft long bamboo pole with a notch cut in one end. The pole remains on the floor next to the Lazy Boy recliner. One simply lifts the pole, lines up the notches on the thumb blade knob channel adjuster and twists.
Of course that was back when we had the 1972 Zenith.
.
We had a similar device to work the Grundig in the bedroom. ( a long piece of half inch dowel ) I had to steady it between my toes to operate it.
My cousin used pliars on the end of a stick in the early 1980's. You had to be resourceful then - well in Fitzwilliam South Yorkshire you did. (Ever heard of it Mick? It was like the mining equivalent of hillbilly country - cept there weren't never no geetars playin').Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
.....so I'm going into the Library toilets in the town centre yesterday...and a Lady cleaner - must have a strong stomach - was walking down the steps into the bowels of the place in front of me. She had placed a sign which said "Female Cleaner in attendance" - (which does make it sound like some up town dressing room) - to warn the users that she would be in there. As she gets to the bottom of the steps she calls out a warning - Lady Cleaner coming in, and with that she plunged into what is very often a fetid pit.
The place is kept reasonably clean, but the users are often not reasonably clean themselves. I did feel sorry for this poor woman. Anyway, she goes off to see to the cubicles, past the rows of geezers swilling out the urinals.
So I set myself up at one, in the usual fashion - leaving a space between myself and the next user - who happened to be a big fat bloke with his jeans rucked delightfully around his voluminous backside.
I glanced over at the this poor cleaning Lady, and proceeded with the business in hand, when up pipes the geezer near to me as he's hauling up his massive jeans who says: "Huh a woman cleaner. I bet she thinks all her Chrismases have come at once."
I burst out laughng at the sheer ludicrous audacity of the guy. I go in there quite a bit, and I have to say I've never seen anyone in there who remotely looks like a bronzed Adonis or who is not way past their shelf life.
Tis the rich tapestry - which needs moving from there lest it become too noisome for further use.
Haha!Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
I had to look up the Grundig. Now I'm in tune.
Was that a Birch or Poplar dowel by the way?
Haha! great story Paul.Quote:
Originally Posted by Paulclem
I just might borrow that last line of yours, has a nice quotable ring to it.
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Did any of you blokes wear "Chukka Boots" aka "Turf Boots" during the Golden Age (mid 60's to the end of the Disco era) ?
How about you Sounds?
I stumbled across this video and noticed the striped shirt Mod wearing a pair.
If you pause at 1:47 you'll get a good shot of the shoes:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uFcPjILC7k
My pair had the soles that looked like the same material as gum erasers.
I mostly wore trainers, but then I wasn't out and about until the late 70's eighties.
Do you chaps feel self conscious about having stuff like colds and not wanting the label of man-flu to be bandied about? I consider myself to be fairly tough, and am insulted when anyone suggests it.
Me too, I am of the seventies, it was iridescent leather and platform soles for me.
(Does a double-take) You have a remote for the fire!
If we had one of those it would have to be a device that could carry a bucket across the yard, open the coal shed door, shovel coal into bucket, bring it back (wiping it's feet-or wheels,) chuck some on the Rayburn, give the bottom grate a riddle and park up in the corner.
Mrs P is the nearest thing I have to that at the moment. I hope she doesn't go down with man flu.