tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-169274182024-03-07T07:35:34.063+00:00Cape to RioThat pure Cane Spirit since 1848.Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.comBlogger415125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-57079237540132595402009-11-03T22:23:00.004+00:002009-11-03T22:26:17.032+00:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbi63l7r6yRvdHiEImiHgBx4YBVHzkSzuXhB7EWgKeSK6mIgu9lIScCNek9DMwjhkXcnMBQqHePqTUzI6QSJuE-L2HME1DH9KARJfIhOi6ZdZR5UsEJxuSl-Y7F3WGp5DInFp/s1600-h/j0434131_Full.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbi63l7r6yRvdHiEImiHgBx4YBVHzkSzuXhB7EWgKeSK6mIgu9lIScCNek9DMwjhkXcnMBQqHePqTUzI6QSJuE-L2HME1DH9KARJfIhOi6ZdZR5UsEJxuSl-Y7F3WGp5DInFp/s400/j0434131_Full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400006765453786210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">W</span></span>ell that just puts the tin hat on it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Three bloody months I’ve been working on my algorithm (Warhammer II ™ © ) and suddenly the bloody levellers at the SEC and FSA are bleating on about high frequency trading and how it’s the death of proper share dealing and how stock markets and exchanges are there to provide capital for enterprise and not fat wads for casino banks, it’s so easy a monkey could do it and blah de blah de blah.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">This is exactly what is killing our great nation. I’d love a fat wad me, instead my pips are being squeezed mercilessly.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTKBZCA7DIsPwSQLMFzWg5Xcs7WzuOY6T_kMuEWVzbqaWKKeJ24BSN7AXI93ksB5PbXEECjmQM9JbXdqGKHKGpk_XXS92bz0mxRsEQ0F73hsmQMVQ6hKJsC_nEbh10pUGfhSz/s1600-h/gbp1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTKBZCA7DIsPwSQLMFzWg5Xcs7WzuOY6T_kMuEWVzbqaWKKeJ24BSN7AXI93ksB5PbXEECjmQM9JbXdqGKHKGpk_XXS92bz0mxRsEQ0F73hsmQMVQ6hKJsC_nEbh10pUGfhSz/s400/gbp1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400006939304361874" border="0" /></a></div>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-16427549204824283732009-10-26T11:58:00.006+00:002009-10-26T12:30:46.090+00:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_Nb8KfkBcafDAa6LXTPtyAsuinX1pUP5-5RqUFMUee2TyIzfHKTQypugMdEK4H24AJA96nHUS0XEFI9c9v3JK4sDTqrFgQ6f0x5VVxctZaapOU0xMrLQ01Wef091JOJMzRXY/s1600-h/batman_robin_batmobile_01.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_Nb8KfkBcafDAa6LXTPtyAsuinX1pUP5-5RqUFMUee2TyIzfHKTQypugMdEK4H24AJA96nHUS0XEFI9c9v3JK4sDTqrFgQ6f0x5VVxctZaapOU0xMrLQ01Wef091JOJMzRXY/s400/batman_robin_batmobile_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396882940820198578" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br /><br /><br />My Beautiful Fucking Mind.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >I</span>n 1968, in our leafy little pri</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">mary school, (no snotters, no rickets, no Irish) when we were nine years old, they introduced us to the problem of the overflowing bath in arithmetic.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It runs like this.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />A forgetful man wishes to have a bath so he turns on both taps but forge</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ts (because he is forgetful) to put the plug in and is suddenly called away to the telephone. While he is away, the water keeps pouring out the taps, filling the bath. The bath fills at 10 gallons a minute and drains out the plughole at 5 gallons a minute. If the bath holds 100 gallons of water, how long before the bath overflows?</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KBvWtDC90HElIubIUSgy8MF0CMn_miDnJzQQBO_w3Vx59IJDWnidUOvsy0EuoRk8HrIU4-sKyXp5tcfw9bfadQ_AjYN78bwjVpl6u5WmNdVX70DFh33ZFQzFqaV1_lrb0Unj/s1600-h/deepbathsuctioncup_Full.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KBvWtDC90HElIubIUSgy8MF0CMn_miDnJzQQBO_w3Vx59IJDWnidUOvsy0EuoRk8HrIU4-sKyXp5tcfw9bfadQ_AjYN78bwjVpl6u5WmNdVX70DFh33ZFQzFqaV1_lrb0Unj/s400/deepbathsuctioncup_Full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396884311544692482" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It took me ten seconds to solve it even though I was watching out the window for Batma</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">n who was coming at 11am to talk to us about road safety. My poor little classmates however, were in a right tizzy. They were pissing their pants trying to work out the answer before that fucking bath overflowed. They were troubled by the pho</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ne call to the forgetful man. At the door were three bags of bottle tops for the blind. They were frightened that the water would get in the skirting boards and flood the electrics. Do they make metal eyes out them? Help! The bath water wi</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ll soak everything to fuck and back in the whole fucking house!<br />As the minutes passed, they blamed themselves. Our paintings on the wall looked shit. The water kept on rising in the bath. Their little legs were wiggling in panic. God, they hated the forgetful man. Forgetful? He was a fucking spastic. Can’t he hear the bath running? Is he fucking deaf and dumb as well? T</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">hey couldn’t even phone him to tell him to turn the fucking taps off because he was ON the fucking phone and the line was busy and it might be a party line and anyway he shouldn’t be allowed to use the phone if he can’t run a fucking bath the stupid useless bastard, we hope he gets drowned, we w</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ill be blamed for the whole fucking mess when we got home.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It’s simple arithmetic so you maybe think I solved it by taking 5 from 10 and dividing 100 by the result, but you’d be wrong. This will become clear later.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Meanwhile I watched out the window and put up my hand and said; “20 minutes.” Mrs Thompson tu</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">rned over the page to check the answer and sniffed. I made her uneasy because I was always looking up her skirt at her knickers.</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8J13Ce3z1r5Vz0tG-bhw8Gw9VsRszGfwHHQNT5HMZYs_iDts0nMwJx37FWdeWMMuZcRoRBxJGCk-CkGP2DXVFG3BJXayqfmLRjP2qCs6vX_mjRIyBGl3WOI3O3nQsUrAZWh1/s1600-h/bp023.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8J13Ce3z1r5Vz0tG-bhw8Gw9VsRszGfwHHQNT5HMZYs_iDts0nMwJx37FWdeWMMuZcRoRBxJGCk-CkGP2DXVFG3BJXayqfmLRjP2qCs6vX_mjRIyBGl3WOI3O3nQsUrAZWh1/s400/bp023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396883289617175394" border="0" /></a></div>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-70455517732871127352009-10-10T10:19:00.005+01:002009-10-10T10:27:42.678+01:00<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kUx8j6UIFbyimhii7WA9pNvd7zruFUNDy_OnExUc5yArGCLgrMoFATnoPDogLO7JCa0RAFvsbVV6s7sOeOmX52GJNGYWsLiA5mtOuFaJFpI_k-zSc5fUaUsoQjNqwOdykmjj/s1600-h/judges.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390900104573729810" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kUx8j6UIFbyimhii7WA9pNvd7zruFUNDy_OnExUc5yArGCLgrMoFATnoPDogLO7JCa0RAFvsbVV6s7sOeOmX52GJNGYWsLiA5mtOuFaJFpI_k-zSc5fUaUsoQjNqwOdykmjj/s400/judges.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>
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<br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>I</strong></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong> </strong></span>have taken a police caution and we’ll say no more about it <em>Mister</em> Maroon.
<br />The wheels of Scottish justice have finally come off with their judgement.
<br />It’s most unsatisfactory. A priggish verbal warning and a criminal record and a feedback questionnaire to fill in, asking my opinion of the Tayside Police Service. (Obviously I shall lie)</span>
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<br />Of the three, I don’t know what gets my goat the most. I think it’s the questionnaire. No; it’s the caution.
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<br />There was a time in this great nation, when giants like Douglas Bader and Brian Trubshaw strode the land, a time when two men could settle their differences with an honest punch-up without dogs fainting and PC 99 making such a bloody song and dance about it; a time when, if some crosspatch was being a pest, whammo! hard as you can onto the bastard’s nose or wind pipe - endof.</span>
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<br />"Dead for a ducat! Dead!"
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<br />"At midnight, the drunken lout drew near with evil threats upon his breath, by 12:03, I had run him through. ‘twas nothing, a matter of seconds and his life’s blood staining the flags…" That sort of thing.
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<br />Not now. Now it’s all "you do not have to say anything to harm your defence but were the arresting officers courteous ? Were they prompt? Did the taser hurt? Was there a pine air freshener in the black maria?"
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<br />After you with the pencil please, Mad Frankie. Swing low, sweet chariot…</span>
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<br />Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-87304247160136677112009-09-18T21:55:00.003+01:002009-09-18T22:01:17.262+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEird7gKJSga2XIQIS3lLdug042wa-skuNUlPwW9bJfoq6CXqN-xGfo34BKR6pNtj-mLkzqc6Jo3o9advdY1xix09juFZkSPWF4-QHt7CD9OcOZmMdbgthMu5QeEmfm8evXqNBRZ/s1600-h/boxing.JPG"></a><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC79xzMJ2wWLp9rj7vEcIgPDLYqCA6jp9mmFXHXPOVZJvOCUzpKn6R43c-y3GDvYVfEB1BkDhePIeuj2eQhr7N4pfWRFmoFxNoaHq1f5OUxn99SezoY4uhMRHiVTK5ln5XzWYd/s1600-h/bully.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382914994690412178" style="WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC79xzMJ2wWLp9rj7vEcIgPDLYqCA6jp9mmFXHXPOVZJvOCUzpKn6R43c-y3GDvYVfEB1BkDhePIeuj2eQhr7N4pfWRFmoFxNoaHq1f5OUxn99SezoY4uhMRHiVTK5ln5XzWYd/s400/bully.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div><br /><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">T</span></strong>he Leith Police Releaseth Me<br /><br />Why are constabularies of the world so against high jinks? Anyone would think that men in bars only ever played skittles and discussed their allotments. A swift punch in the throat never hurt anyone. Have they never seen a John Wayne film?<br /><br />Anyway, it’s Rosh Hashanah and that seems a good place to start my 10 days of repentance; Days of Awe to you (no offence).<br /><br />But I would walk five hundred miles<br />And I would walk five hundred more<br />Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles<br />To fall down at your door<br /><br />I’M BACK! (for good)<br />Leshone Toyve; Lang may your lum reek.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span> </div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div></div>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com278tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-22093699372794746102009-08-16T15:10:00.003+01:002009-08-16T15:19:16.378+01:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">S</span></span>traightforward Saucy Seaside Postcards</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nos. 1 & 2 in a converging infinite series.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">No. 1 “Judging The Vegetables.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Let the postcard show a village fete and let the illustrator show the judging of the garden vegetables upon a table. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And to avoid any misunderstanding, let there be a sign upon the tent canvas saying: “Village Fete. ~ Vegetable Competition“.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And let the judge in this case be a cleric: A Church of England vicar or curate or somesuch.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And let him be in dog collar and black weskit and have a rosette upon his lapel with the word “JUDGE” upon it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And let him be shewn standing close to the table such that a cucumber, recumbent upon the table, is in absentminded contact with the fly buttons of his trousers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">For good measure, let the vicar have a beatific smirk upon his face.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now, let there also be a lovely young woman in a red polka dot, low-cut, summer frock barely restraining her “rack”. And let the illustrator shew her resting her clammy little hand upon the aforementioned cucumber. And let her full red lips be parted in a saucy smile of overpowering fecundity.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">She should speak thus: <span style="font-style: italic;"> “Ooh Vicar, is it as big as </span><span style="font-style: italic;">yours?”</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And let the cleric reply:<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">“That’s not a cucumber Miss ~ I took some camouflage paint from the cadets and disguised my penis to look like a cucumber and that is what you are stroking now.”</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And, if there be space still upon the card, let all reply in unison:<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">“Stop the fete! The vicar is a filthy pervert!”</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">No.2 At The Greengrocer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Let the card show an array of ripe melons in a greengrocer’s shop and to avoid confusion let there be a sign upon the wall saying : “Nudist Camp Shop” or some such. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And let there be a beautiful naked woman holding two ripe melons prior to making their purchase.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now let there also be a shrunken, naked man leering at her, and let there be a pile of soup tins hiding his member from view and he should spake thus:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >“Gosh, Darling! What a lovely pair you have!”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now let the beautiful woman reply: <span style="font-style: italic;">“Yes, I intend to make melon boats with ginger at dinner tonight.”</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And let the leering man reply to that:<span style="font-style: italic;"> “No Poppet, I meant your breasts. They are fabulous. They would look so good with my dick between them!”</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now let the greengrocer shout: <span style="font-style: italic;">“Get out of my shop you filthy pervert!”</span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Perhaps you can think of more ideas for straightforward saucy seaside postcards?<br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-69757410285610050072009-08-03T14:05:00.021+01:002009-08-03T22:29:50.430+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFmPpBxSK5SAMPlis7tTvRuXz-HtZRht_srH3k_EL6LM1eMwvbatzXoQyd7v1ORA4pP_ykqjQS9k8H8flkR4XaG8r8Ph5DH4cMVL7MGMWspUtqCgbb0DnweupXRu6_mHfxTof/s1600-h/diagnosis_doctor.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFmPpBxSK5SAMPlis7tTvRuXz-HtZRht_srH3k_EL6LM1eMwvbatzXoQyd7v1ORA4pP_ykqjQS9k8H8flkR4XaG8r8Ph5DH4cMVL7MGMWspUtqCgbb0DnweupXRu6_mHfxTof/s400/diagnosis_doctor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365788988877676226" border="0" /></a><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class=" on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyCenter" title="Align Centre" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 11);ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Align Centre" class="gl_align_center" border="0" /></span></span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><br />“W</span>ithout the inclination towards <span style="font-style: italic;">philanthropia</span>, man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing; no better than a kind of vermin, Maroon.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Well quite, but I <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> give at the office.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“You gave at the office did you?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Yes.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“To The </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">West of Scotland </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Red Crescent?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Yesss...”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“No matter, roll up your sleeve. Still smoking?”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Today, Dr Al-Abri, company medic, is being a royal pain in the ass with his raffle tickets and charity tins. His manner is a disgrace. When you go in, he is always reading a newspaper or eating a Kit Kat. He just riles me. For some reason he is wearing a brown leather protector over his middle finger and he keeps touching me with the fucking thing, so, to take my mind off it while he straps me up, I read the little acronyms he writes across the cover of my file. The latest is HIBGIA; no, not a wasting of the liver, but “Had It Before, Got It Again”.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Hypertension: it's the silent killer, Maroon.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And, sure as Death, the examination rumbles on to The Display And Consideration Of The Maroon Private Parts and I follow like a lamb, knowing he’s going to have his hairy fingers pressing up on my sweaty groin while I look down into his liquid brown eyes. Thankfully, there is nothing like a biennial finger to fetch out the racist homophobe.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Did you bring a sample?”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I take it out my pocket and because I have just done it in the disabled toilet, it is still hot. He holds it up to the window, quite fascinated; then he turns it over like an egg timer, spellbound,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Is this what I think it is?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“What do you mean?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“It looks fine, but I was expecting pee not semen.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“No way! Your letter is all about a “Well Man” examination. There is a whole paragraph on prostate and testicular cancer, and em, fertility, erectile problems, discoloured ejaculate, and then, then it asks for a sample in the Sterilin bottle provided. This is your bloody fault, not mine.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I am scanning the letter as I blurt all this out and for the first time in 10 readings I see the word urine.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“How did you get it in the bottle?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Get lost Ali, I ain't in the mood.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Cough.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">*ahem*</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“And again.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">*cough*</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Fine.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And then he snarks away to himself for a full minute.<br /><br /><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-36149078568056339052009-07-30T22:12:00.010+01:002009-07-30T23:27:57.140+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGVm21dll1xIz8Wyi_4CuCxxvLRBYvxrgTeg50TXozVvQa8hC3yBW6sjEdPl-vMTUlG-W-cjbV_dJhFMPARs9nAvAOsvt-Ps9ektcsK_qOEfpEoWEPOJekkchbK8GrRebE3no/s1600-h/best+beach+in+Christendom.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGVm21dll1xIz8Wyi_4CuCxxvLRBYvxrgTeg50TXozVvQa8hC3yBW6sjEdPl-vMTUlG-W-cjbV_dJhFMPARs9nAvAOsvt-Ps9ektcsK_qOEfpEoWEPOJekkchbK8GrRebE3no/s400/best+beach+in+Christendom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364372821399189954" border="0" /></a></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />T</span></span>here is no oil for the lamps.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“What is truth?” said Pilate; and then, like me, he pissed off quick for fear he got an answer. Well, I shall just tell you: Truth is a very grey area; very, very grey. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I mention Pilate because oftentimes at Cambridge, I would dream of the Roman goddess Levana and wonder when her bestowed gifts would kick in. It was my Jesuit schooling impinging you see. I am positive it would have tota</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">lly buggered up a lesser man. Made him shifty and withdrawn perhaps. Not me. You see, by then I had developed a strategy to cope:drugs and cunning. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">My panacea, my <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >φαρμακον νηπενθες</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">,</span> * was and is, strong drink and the Jesuits taught me the cunning. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The upshot is, that by my clever deployment of what might be called "tu</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">rning the cat in the pan", certain things have come to light; it turns out that I am not to blame after all for our local difficulties in Araby and am to be sent back like Gandalf the White, to finish off what weak men could only begin. I am sent back out to Saudi, v soon. Can’t wait. Before you know it, I’ll be in the compound rumpus room playing Islamic bingo. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We have a local bingo caller, (works for Mecca).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Right guys and guys, eyes cast down for a full house…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Eye for an eye…number one,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Clicketty click…car-bomb timer,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">All the ones…nine-eleven</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Number eight…old enough</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Seven and six…seventysix, strokes of the lash, was she worth it?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Four-oh…virgins in paradise</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Number ten…British pig dog Satan</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Number nine…Mullah’s orders</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Eighty eight…two fat ladies, how can you tell? </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Six and nine...sixty-nine…oral sex</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Top of the house...</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ninety-nine...</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">beard of the Prophet…”</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9_r14y2JeNaWGCxVEheiTguWIrgLQp4T1VfgYSVdDihXwjBuIDq8o-wQc1sfQDVhcyoKESpiZThbvYHGV9wGZthBQmULU1tpaRBQIeL4B94Pl9QeoEz04sDNAKBvXVsNA40u/s1600-h/huge.42.210814.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9_r14y2JeNaWGCxVEheiTguWIrgLQp4T1VfgYSVdDihXwjBuIDq8o-wQc1sfQDVhcyoKESpiZThbvYHGV9wGZthBQmULU1tpaRBQIeL4B94Pl9QeoEz04sDNAKBvXVsNA40u/s400/huge.42.210814.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364375083089196562" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">* “drug banishing sorrow” pronounced pharmacon nehpenthes.<br /><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-11868889480866616322009-07-15T23:34:00.007+01:002009-07-16T00:00:51.405+01:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span></span> am to be sent home in disgrace (medevac) for the good of the contract and company name. They sent out a director to give me the black spot. I thought I was to be promoted. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“I’m sending you home on leave without the option, before you </span><i style="font-family: verdana;"><b>really</b></i><span style="font-family:verdana;"> fuck up.” was how he put it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He broke the news to me at that vile breakfast stroke lunch affair which exemplifies company life in overseas compounds. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">That "I Hate Maroon" menu in full</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Brunche</span><span style="font-family:courier new;">:</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Waffle</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Mixed Grilling:</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I'm-For-The Chop</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">With Contract Bedevilled Kidneys</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">& Frazzled Liver.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >or</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Not-Bringing-Home-The Bacon</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Served With Hash-Of-It Browns And Has Beans.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Eggs Interdict</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Cheerios.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Plat Du Monde:</span> Ciao Mein</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Desserts Du Jour:</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">In A Jam Roly-Poly</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Eton Mess Of It</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Crepe</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >To Drink:</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Aqua Miserable</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Sack</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Chef De Parti: Harry Vidercci</span>.<br /><br /><br /><br /> * * *Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-24686870612901281482009-07-04T19:09:00.001+01:002009-07-04T21:42:07.589+01:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">I </span></span>am sure you know the story of Vedran Smajlović, the Cellist of Sarajevo, who played 22 consecutive days in Peter’s Square under the murderous Serbian mortars. I am equally sure, that few of you will have heard of “The Bagpiper Of Dundee” who yesterday played 20 consecutive minutes at the Nethergate under the glass canopy until he had made enough for a bottle of Emva and a Gregg’s macaroni pie.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">As part of the ongoing international effort in the former Yugoslavia, Unicef has twinned Sarajevo with other European towns one of which is our own City of Discovery. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">In the nature of these things, the twinning committee toured the devastation in an open-topped bus. The Mexican delegate was particularly moved. Shaking his head sadly, his eyes filling with furious tears; “Serbian bastards!” he swore, his arm sweeping to encompass the whole of the Lochee housing estate.</span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-2587859890663966872009-06-22T23:09:00.000+01:002009-06-22T23:10:14.426+01:00fucklestoppedDr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-53934676569714028292009-06-21T02:01:00.000+01:002009-06-21T02:02:09.581+01:00<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NNMDQ3f6Y94&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NNMDQ3f6Y94&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-29925131317251090192009-06-13T15:17:00.006+01:002009-06-13T18:17:14.481+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8BH9UBfF5GWMo5YoL01i1heD9pg2HQmHgWVdoGOGrGON6m4Gk9jx5M2YGCVS-vz50gC5Fx9kAJgzmybu6QOXWDUQbrnZ3jfa0Cu7gkiMXdgbA7eZs4mtubwgvqd5e1TkIuy7/s1600-h/jelly+postcard.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8BH9UBfF5GWMo5YoL01i1heD9pg2HQmHgWVdoGOGrGON6m4Gk9jx5M2YGCVS-vz50gC5Fx9kAJgzmybu6QOXWDUQbrnZ3jfa0Cu7gkiMXdgbA7eZs4mtubwgvqd5e1TkIuy7/s400/jelly+postcard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346823908837500274" border="0" /></a>
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<br /></div><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cbogol%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >Thank God</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> for the bomb.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >I</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> am acutely aware that by 14.58 BST today, Boris Johnson and Cameron (I forget his first name; is it Ian?) have already accomplished a lot.
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">They are old Etonians you see. I am of an age when all my </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">heroes were Etonians. It was the only school worth mentioning. In fact a college. Now my school was a college too, and we had the twin chips on our shoulders of being Scotch and Jesuit. Beat that! Let </span><st1:place style="font-family: verdana;" st="on">Eton</st1:place><span style="font-family:verdana;"> flourish? Let </span><st1:place style="font-family: verdana;" st="on"><st1:city st="on">Glasgow</st1:city></st1:place><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Flourish!
<br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I’ve met three; Etonians that is. They were très good company and as tough as nails and had that effortless English quality of being at ease. I became quite friendly with one, for a while, a year or so, during various crises in the world of agriculture. We emailed regularly, got pissed a few times home and away, had him home to dinner, that sort of thing. I would meet him at the airport and he had that superb way of looking very grateful to be met. Perhaps he was. Anyway, we got on. He was elevating company. What a leech I am. He liked malt whiskies and I have an "in" where malt whisky is concerned and would press white labelled bottles of Glen Farclas 1968 (62% ABV) on him as he left for <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">London</st1:city></st1:place>.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I foolishly dropped all my network a while back. Pissed them against the wall like the faux Benzedrine I was guzzling at the time.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">To get back to the subject; I, on the other hand, have done sweet Fanny Adams today.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Because I am not an Old Etonian?
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">No.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Because I am an old, hopeless, worthless aunt with an autumnal timor mortis perched on my shoulder the size of a parrot.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana"><span style="font-size:100%;">OH bee tee doubleyou</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" > Pat</span><span style="font-size:100%;">, a "Frenchie" is a kiss, nothing more. Shame on you if you thought otherwise.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal" face="verdana"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKgUxFg-_w-mayFa1KRuSFNMoBjjFIOEFI9vStDMpav-VF27Vk18JmPmrrP8NZ6GkifUSlKkjF3D8_0K2YB-mllsorEg1d-22EZwf48XtiTd4HhsXiVs50519Jn_plA4UJXOI/s1600-h/t-saucyseaside.jpg.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKgUxFg-_w-mayFa1KRuSFNMoBjjFIOEFI9vStDMpav-VF27Vk18JmPmrrP8NZ6GkifUSlKkjF3D8_0K2YB-mllsorEg1d-22EZwf48XtiTd4HhsXiVs50519Jn_plA4UJXOI/s400/t-saucyseaside.jpg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346823915015911970" border="0" /></a></p> Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-53256561321479310512009-06-09T22:29:00.001+01:002009-06-09T22:36:31.671+01:00<span style="font-family:verdana;">Some lines on Maroon stepping from the closet.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">‘T</span></span>was in the year two thousand and nine, on a cold summer’s day,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">That poor Doctor Maroon woke a la William Ard, to find he was gay,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He had retired to bed early, totally straight (and utterly pissed)</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So imagine the mental turmoil to awake as a homosexualist.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">His revelationary conversion to soft furnishings and indirect lighty,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Made him feel like Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Oh me! Oh my!” he said, I must sit on this news,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yet the camp old sod couldn’t resist praising his lady-friend’s shoes,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“This just puts the tin hat on it.” thought the impecunious gay git,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“When Poor Mother finds out, she’ll have a violent, possibly fatal, conniption fit,”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Well that’s just too bad.” he flounced, “all I ever was, was her glorified chauffeur,”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And he danced a defiant little hornpipe, being now shocking light in the loafer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“I knew all along.” lied Jayne-Marie, a girl with the morals of a stoat,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Anyone could tell he was as bent as a three pound note.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Where will it end?” thought the clapped out, pissed up, academic Nobel dreamer,</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now admitting his love of stage musicals and sparkly drapes, the sad old screamer.<br /><br /><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-17355126159317302592009-06-06T09:38:00.002+01:002009-06-06T10:12:00.058+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jVZlvR3WT1UAdzLYOZ5fAq7boUGB40enjx9bX_zSFczGW7dslG-oys9OO29CWhsxdUaj8XT3n7bLQVJta_bk7fpqIFX2cV9RQcC1Owk1R7klotMNSrac_fe3FgXB9KLSDp6c/s1600-h/ublears.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 350px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jVZlvR3WT1UAdzLYOZ5fAq7boUGB40enjx9bX_zSFczGW7dslG-oys9OO29CWhsxdUaj8XT3n7bLQVJta_bk7fpqIFX2cV9RQcC1Owk1R7klotMNSrac_fe3FgXB9KLSDp6c/s400/ublears.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344139449237668434" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Let’s </span></span>review the evidence. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Shall we? </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Painful muscle pull, lower back, left side.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Bruising various odd places. Very odd places.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">General feeling of having gone 3 rounds with Turkish boxer.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Alarming record of various latenight calls on cell phone</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Still fully dressed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yes I think I had a good night last night.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I must pad the furniture edges like one sees in the houses of the blind</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yeah, blind drunk you aunt.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Ok that’s enough.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Today at the eleventh hour, as the bell tolls, I am cleaning up my act, getting my shit together, taking stock, striding out into the new day. I shall bathe, ablute and dress with care. Full cuff link presentation, pomade on hair, polished boots. I am not a mollusc, I am a free man! Christ give me a drink s</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">omeone, perllease!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Has the British government fallen yet? I hope not. Good old Mandy. Cometh the hour cometh the man.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OmtCBWeNrt4A7Rze6IqpPiSPGuslkde8eNW4bL9i2qcYz3ZXXc-7zD8KqoGo2kVWcnk1RcPthDdNnx22HPYpYcvNMrZi_2zo_NccOy_EnDF9J8LFGVCJZ_bzatitDR1KFjw9/s1600-h/mandelsonDM0309_468x451.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 385px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OmtCBWeNrt4A7Rze6IqpPiSPGuslkde8eNW4bL9i2qcYz3ZXXc-7zD8KqoGo2kVWcnk1RcPthDdNnx22HPYpYcvNMrZi_2zo_NccOy_EnDF9J8LFGVCJZ_bzatitDR1KFjw9/s400/mandelsonDM0309_468x451.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344132541803380834" border="0" /></a></div>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-29243554810728794972009-06-04T11:43:00.002+01:002009-06-04T22:23:42.973+01:00<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cbogol%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >I</span> used to look after this girl's goldfish when they went on holiday.</span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Stop Press:</span></span> What a twelvemonth! First it was Ali Bongo then Danny La Rue and now poor Old David Carradine! Oh Grasshopper. Time for you to leave.
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<br /></p><p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal">"Is that Kung Fu?"</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">"No, he's choked the chicken."</span>
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<br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yXL-3KVZF54&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yXL-3KVZF54&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/v72WLflreZ4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/v72WLflreZ4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_k8ZXzJQRx4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_k8ZXzJQRx4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-77840947172383825842009-05-29T00:19:00.003+01:002009-05-29T00:27:07.623+01:00When it comes to Liverpool fans, this must be the BEST result ever.<br />EVER<br /><br /><br />However, give us a chance.<br />The best footballer ever, was this man.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivG5JIpZKx2emw_KUVXy8LoAxlsWj-PfIr9j42moyGtb5iqTjWd-tT3Mazb7-qzVPD7ksGRKPMamfxOsYz-1mgpAicqectsTxRCZOIDOBR22IM3hGvvi6onhUTb6hdQuVT_ZQS/s1600-h/Henrik_Larsson.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 355px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivG5JIpZKx2emw_KUVXy8LoAxlsWj-PfIr9j42moyGtb5iqTjWd-tT3Mazb7-qzVPD7ksGRKPMamfxOsYz-1mgpAicqectsTxRCZOIDOBR22IM3hGvvi6onhUTb6hdQuVT_ZQS/s400/Henrik_Larsson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341018660095936354" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t2vDn6Ph1YA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t2vDn6Ph1YA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-78747664538399264932009-05-25T14:25:00.001+01:002009-05-25T20:37:30.407+01:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">T</span></span>he worst of watching a parent age and die is the conversation. We long for the meaningful conversation that we despised when we were young. Overnight our parents become inane. What’s more, they revel in it. They punish us. When we were younger we begged them to talk like other kid’s parents especially when our friends (those other kids) were round for a snog and the burning of joss sticks.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Fucking hell mum don’t make a dissertation out of it. This isn’t a question of politics or human morals, noble spirit, deferred gratification; we got drunk on cider and the girls put make up on us like David Bowie, move on for fuck’s sake, and write me a note for school. (no fucking way).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now we wish they would return to their rigour and shut the fuck up about just how terribly nosey is Mrs Wickes in number 11 (I think she is lonely) or the total, total, lack of urbanity in restaurants or in Boots the chemist, or with tradesmen looking at the ceiling.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Fucking hell, how do they manage to shed a lifetime of propriety, etiquette (which they imprinted on US by the way- ie never make anyone uncomfortable by your presence or speech or table manners) so easily? Piff paff poff and it’s like it never happened. After seventy something, they don’t give a flying fuck. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-27399506865430227552009-05-23T19:25:00.003+01:002009-05-23T20:41:43.392+01:00<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;" >S</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ome interesting root canal work this morning at around 10 am local time...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So far this evening, </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">600mg Ibuprofen</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">1500mg Paracetamol</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">45mg codeine</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">1.5lt sparkling perry</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">35 cl rum type tincture 50%ABV (Approx) with diet cherry coke.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">4 hours sleep in last 48</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Feeling chust sublime.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Why?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Why the fuck not?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here’s Joe Cocker.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Cocker! Snitter snitter fnar…</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TOz6Mt2t084&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TOz6Mt2t084&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oh, there are concrete mountains in the city…<br /><br /><br />Yeah and some Joni as well.<br /><br />Oh it gets so lonely, when you're walkin' and the streets are full of strangers...<br /><br />Hey if you don't like it...<br /><br />It's Saturday and I'm in and I'm playing my records alright?<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-q4foLKDlcE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-q4foLKDlcE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />And some Bernstein<br /><br />I like the island of Manhattan<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1QS7wWzwak4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1QS7wWzwak4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-62830288649070672652009-05-18T23:03:00.001+01:002009-05-18T23:03:24.863+01:00snarkDr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-78700377192516002652009-05-18T21:54:00.005+01:002009-05-18T23:18:30.233+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8qsRPJeI4oNebqClZOcREVzIQI_ZYqe4kzDH363oNZKcshterE5IRtxw8Nc_TCfFqkTXPim9msNF8tWePYimphwEMoRC6zH1yWjA8S7z_55ki7z-FCKENImdJ9vwWsB_8WOs/s1600-h/bohack+bags.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8qsRPJeI4oNebqClZOcREVzIQI_ZYqe4kzDH363oNZKcshterE5IRtxw8Nc_TCfFqkTXPim9msNF8tWePYimphwEMoRC6zH1yWjA8S7z_55ki7z-FCKENImdJ9vwWsB_8WOs/s400/bohack+bags.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337273328975534690" border="0" /></a><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyCenter" title="Align Centre" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 11);ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Align Centre" class="gl_align_center" border="0" /></span></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><br /><br />O</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ut on a limb</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">My creditors are avowed to kill me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“If you do not make full and timeous restitution –in full, we will kill you.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Such Little Men. Such ambiguity.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Poor old Dropshaft. Aware that life is a delusion and responsible for his situation.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">So then, here I am in Jeddah. The dust and fumes would kill an ox. My urine is fluorescent; either from the tablets or the cid or dehydration. During the day I contend with shifty Arabs and in the evening I suffer the music of a talentless sod called Dizzy Twat telling everyone he’s bonkers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">One night around ten, we went to a convenience store like Bohack or Budgens to buy sugar and yeast and a pressure cooker. Bit suspicious? Not a bit of it. We kept up an innocent conversation throughout. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">What’s on the list Hugh? (Always a good prop, a list.) Let’s see, sugar -for our baking. How much? 20 kilos. Oh and some yeast of course. Yes Hugh, we will need yeast also: for the baking of the bread etc. Look at these pressure cookers, very nice. Yes let’s get one for our English stews and hotpots. Oh remember our central heating is playing up, we could do with some micro bore copper pipe. Here’s some here! Anything else Hugh? Yes, these hickory chips will make a nice barbeque (Jack Daniels flavouring) And so on. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Everything is stacked next to each other on the shelf. Elliot Ness would shit bricks. “They put one of oursh in the hoshpital, we put one of theirsh in the morgue…</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It’s as shaming as buying Asian Beaver or the Peoples Friend but the shop staff are cowed immigrants so fuck em. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Hugh is my line manager. He’s from Warrington. He’s been here way too long. His bide a wee apartment stinks of hooch and flavourings like rum essence and polo mints. His carpets are a fucking disgrace. I think some of it is blood. He hates everything, even the very blackening. Everyone calls him Hugh except the RSAF personnel who call him Mr Janus.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QZJAhV2bErESD7PP0g0tteUhhjAwwTYj9e16oYF-7IyrTXFQ7tTvkEB1XDhmlWXvsenc0tvuFb-PPGioo6Dbyqns5iw4-9-IT9byqIFlKaa0Es6ZGl95b-RwpwYxYyX_qOO5/s1600-h/Pressure+cooker+0195_RT8small.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QZJAhV2bErESD7PP0g0tteUhhjAwwTYj9e16oYF-7IyrTXFQ7tTvkEB1XDhmlWXvsenc0tvuFb-PPGioo6Dbyqns5iw4-9-IT9byqIFlKaa0Es6ZGl95b-RwpwYxYyX_qOO5/s400/Pressure+cooker+0195_RT8small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337274640719908146" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-27938676039895035882009-05-03T01:25:00.006+01:002009-05-06T10:17:47.724+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLiFSqtdXMU-460mNYZ6KoXIw11Y2Ms7w7KSxXRseWdFobXIyrxdM174DTfGeANCIdjIMVzzaHWQcJ7-lzncb4hmXqCU3oK5uiGaRwiokqgG4O2uqNpw3EDvW3FOkTyZMQw8T/s1600-h/rv-wand-sm.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLiFSqtdXMU-460mNYZ6KoXIw11Y2Ms7w7KSxXRseWdFobXIyrxdM174DTfGeANCIdjIMVzzaHWQcJ7-lzncb4hmXqCU3oK5uiGaRwiokqgG4O2uqNpw3EDvW3FOkTyZMQw8T/s400/rv-wand-sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331391440379064178" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Fucklestopped</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">My best man has been rebuffed by AL Kennedy three times because he is a v=bastardf. His mother was in a coma for three weeks after a road accident and to fill the vacuum I told her I was getting married and promised that her son would be my best man. The machiones didn’t beep she died the following week and I was stuck with the bastard.He was like I am now and I bankrolled him for 31/2 years. I thought nothing of it. I was flush and id known him since way way back. yet now I realise how bloody awful that mustr have been for him. How terrifingly shite that must have been. Too fucking bad. Hes a dreadful alchoholic now and I haven’t spoken to him for twenmty years. My next friend I met at trinity. He was from Dumbarton you couldn’t make it up. On like day two we met said something like, are you scotch? Yeah? Wanna drink? lets go. And that was that. We spent as much time as possible away from the fucking place because we were working class. I ended up eventually taking supervisions, he didn’t. he has a multi billion pond company makinfg umbilicles ifor the north sea oil and gas thing. I went out with him . he showered me this huge unwinding thing. Ti was stultifiingly boring. He has contracts off east anglia . I will not ask him for a job. I think he may have got married and nor asked me to the wedding the cunt. He was at mine and missed being best man by a whuisker. See above. My poor wife , the previous mrs maroon loved him as much as ui did and tried to get me to change it but it was too late. Even I couldn’t break a deathbed promise. I do remember how wanky the whole thing was. There is a maths test at Cambridge it’s a beefed up a level no more and if you get a good mark they call you a wtrangler. Well in the finasl its 5 from 7 and I did the 7 and goty a good mark asnd was called a werang;ler. I was wanky enough toi write “ perm any five from seven” on the bottom of the scrip. Fuck me gently.Max didn’t. and that’s the point,. Undertgraduates doing medieaval French history can do maths at Cambridge. Every cint can do it. anyway there was a surfeit thar year and they all disappeared up yhtere own arses workinf out whjy. Its not a variable bar ill give them that. Tits an absolute anywat its like the debate over a levels now. Are they too easy?. Ironica\lly we examined the statistical correlation ( l;ike that inky?) one of the most dreadful things about an English education is its thoroughness. England is stil even now a country of power and influence and to iknow that one has no part in it is so so cuntish as to be unbearable. We had a post mortem after the event and one of ourgroup a handsome lad called steve asked our supervisor if I really had written that and had I got maximum marks. What a dick. The trouble wqs we could see it was all props. If you pushed the walls they would tip over. Cardboard. His books (doctor loughran) our maths suervisor, if we’d taken them out the selves would have been blank paper we all knew itr but weree too polite to say. the point is I tookm him into my home and family. Max you cuntWhen mrs maroon and I split up he waws there the next day and stayed tewo weeks to make sure I didn’t kill myself. Yeah riught. We had a swell time, pissed constantly and he shaggrd everything going.i have the letter copy of sent to lse saying how wonderful I was. Ill give them that. Neyou know the worst of it? we played on it constantly. Were at Cambridge. We didn’t fit and it was difficult but we played on it. he married a nurse from Cambridge. The town. It was like officer and a genteman. The townies hated us but we ciould stll twist it. fuck.my next friends are the richest people iknow3.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-5546203852186055542009-04-29T23:40:00.009+01:002009-04-30T11:15:53.125+01:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">T</span></span>he smell hit him when he opened the hut door. He couldn’t place it. Perhaps it was the smell of gentle disappointment. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">No, it’s margarine he decided. Margarine and vinyl table covers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Oh Maroon,” he sighed piteously.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Life on the lam was going to be difficult.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He stepped in and dropped his suitcase on the bed…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">If "Uncle" Otto Ziegler hadn’t had his stroke and fallen in the pool and if his puzzled audience hadn’t assumed it the highlight of his act then Maroon would never have come. The classified in last week’s Stage had been a godsend; </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >“Hands on” compere and two </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >coats required for prestige Devon </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >sunshine resort. Exp. of mediaeval </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >knight / serving wench not essential.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >Live in all found. Immediate start.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">To Maroon, a rat on a sinking ship, every word sang out to him with the tantalising “hands on” and “serving wench” providing the descant. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">He memorised the number and</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">while he was out shopping in Sainsburys, he </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">called the agent, one Richard (Double) Dekker. They met later that day.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The interview went well. A formality. Maroon had warmed to the theatrical agent instantly which is always a great comfort to the practiced liar.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> There only remained the crossing of the "i"s as Dekker put it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Let’s see…Can we run through the health questionnaire?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Of course.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Smoke?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“No thanks.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Uhuh. Do you smoke?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Good Lord no.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Any skin disease, dizzy spells, headaches or heart trouble?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“No.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Deafness?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Wha…no”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Thanks. No deafness.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“No.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Drink?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“That’s very kind of you…”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Yes, good. Um, alcohol, how many units; in a week say?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Oh,14.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">14?</span>”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Some weeks would be less.”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Less?</span>”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The formalities came to a shuddering halt. Dekker was unable to stop himself looking up. He saw at once the narrow necktie streaked with cigarette ash and the swollen brisket and the purple veins around a nose sharp as a pin. He relaxed and smiled.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maroon on the other hand, felt the scrutiny keenly and cursed the sun which chose now to shine on his ravaged face and checkered jacket. He cleared his throat running a finger around his damp collar, and asked innocently:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Well, how much is an alcohol unit these days?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“I’ll put down 50 shall I?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“50?”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“There are seven days in a week Maroon. It’s purely for insurance purposes. Besides, all the best comperes are piss ar…look it’s expected, it’s the biz. Take poor Lennie Bennett: smoked like a fish and thirsty as an Arab Mullah…”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“But he died!”</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Never on stage Maroon, never died with his public, no, they loved him and that’s the point. I’ll fill in the rest, you get yourself down to Devon.</span>"<br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And that was that. They shook hands.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">“Give Devon my love and tell them I’ll send the two coats stroke serving wenches as soon as.<br />Break a leg Maroon.”</span>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-91304392722640986962009-04-13T13:17:00.001+01:002009-04-13T13:20:26.005+01:00<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cbogol%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Achilles Hector Kenneth Maroon.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">An Apology:</span><b style=""><o:p></o:p></b></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal">I apologise unreservedly for the slur neither intended nor implied on the wives of Mr Cameron and Mr Brown the Prime Minister occasioned by my bare-arsed exhibitionism on the weblog named Cape to Rio. I was not overworked or under great stress.</p> <p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal">Further, I deeply regret my inconvenience on this most beautiful of Easter Mondays to be stuck inside explaining myself.<span style=""> </span>I am most sorry to be typing this out to an empty screen knowing deep in my heart that public houses across this great land have been open for two hours now, serving cool wines and sandwiches. That, perhaps, is my deepest regret and for that I am more sorry than I can say.</p> Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-59233971567017045472009-04-12T22:48:00.001+01:002009-04-13T09:24:48.327+01:00Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16927418.post-26113377876415577952009-04-12T20:05:00.000+01:002009-04-12T20:06:28.073+01:00<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span></span>t's the Norwegians!<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3VyXqQPHL70&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3VyXqQPHL70&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Dr Maroonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00639939963726199699noreply@blogger.com4