Extremely busy and working on projects that are very visible (used by top brass at company) so any slacking would be too obvious.
Cracker over the weekend. John Jenks is one of the guys that went to see Neil Young and Crazy Horse with me. He's a top joiner and ex-Hells Angel. Just before I left on Saturday afternoon, Carol Brown came in. She's the drunken old slapper my mate baseball-batted. Apparently after I left, Jenks, who as arseholed had his tongue right down her throat. He complained that her false teeth were moving around Denice told the whole story, disappeared and came back saying "Carol left you these" and put a set of those wind-up clattering false teeth on the bar. Perhaps you had to be there, but everyone ****ing pissed themselves
Sunday afternoons at the Cheese bring the pleasure of the worst barmaid on the planet. She only does Sunday afternoons and she's only really ever worked them for two things - smoking ***s and putting utter **** on the jukie. She's now given ***s up (for the 40th time). so just concentrates on the jukie. They say women can multi-task. This one can't even mono-task. It's a Herculean task just to get a pint when she's working. The first pint she poured me was OK. The second was flat, so I poured it into my previous glass. The third one was flat also. I asked her to change it, so she just went and got another glass and slammed it down on the bar. I asked her to pour it in and she refused. I said I wouldn't pay her until I got a decent pint, so she then refused to serve me. Good job I was going anyway. When I got in there after work last night, Denice said I'd behaved like a 'little ****er'. I asked her how many times she'd served me and how many times I'd complained. She reckoned the latter was about twice. I asked her if there was anything wrong with the pint on each occasion and she said there was. I then suggested she think again about who the little ****er was. Monday afternoon was different again. Jenks had been threatening to wire up an old Sony midi-system (think Bullseye) in the function room, which has a door opening out onto the south-facing beer garden. I knew the weather forecast was decent, so I took some CDs and three doobs with me. The system was sorted. A table was pulled up close to the door and there we sat, soaking up the sun listening to a double best of Steely Dan CD, stoned to ****. What a wonderful afternoon. The two faces of the Cheese PS No Fiona in months
Flat ale, narky bar maids, insulting host and auld tunes from a knackered 90's stereo, sounds idilic mate.
Not quite sure what 'idilic' means, But Monday afternoon was certainly idyllic The best music is timeless. It never ages
****, I would do that in response to you wouldn't I ffs I must be getting old, I was gardening all afternoon, and actually enjoyed it
By the way, what are your views on Labour's proposed 'mansion tax'. given that you're labour and by your own admission, you live in a mansion?
My home is nowhere near £2m worth, I live in the frozen North ffs. The mansion tax only covers the value above £2m anyway, so it's 1% of anything over that. So even a home costing £3m would only incurr an annual charge of £10k. If you can afford to live in such a property then £10k a year will likely be pocket change, and if it isn't then you're in the wrong ****ing house
