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~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

Tag Archives: Gordon

The Boys go to Blat

03 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Angler, Emmjay, Gez, Gib, Gordon, Honshades, humour, Hung, Sandy

Off you go boys but I’ll be waiting

 

“Well I think that wheeze boys should have a weekend away for all that male bonding stuff” says Emmjay as he sips his glass canoe.

Oh fuck no, thinks Hung all that pretend bullshit about how great wheeze all were back in jail, oops I mean high school. ”I’m bored” says Hung reading from the script that he wrote. “Can’t we just put on some Dirt Air and Heat and pretend?”

Dirt Air and Heat

“Bloody good idea” says Gib ”Lets go out and shoot some cats, drink lots of piss and cook some critters on the barbeque.”

Cheers all round, well from the boys anyway.

”Not a bad idea” says Angler ”Lets get Gordon, Gez and Sandy and, and go camping.”

”None of that poofter stuff” pipes in Merv, who by the way hasn’t actually been invited, as he has to run the pub and granny wouldn’t let him go anyway seeing

This is the bit before the tzatziki

he is a juvenile delinquent or that he is from Deniliquin.

“An, an, an, how come Foodge and O’Hoo haven’t been invited?” pushes Merv.

“Ewes ain’t invited Merv, ewes have to stay behind and run the pub” replies Emmjay ticking over the dollars.

“And Merv, my young friend, someone has to keep the business fluid, if you get my drift” informs Gordon.

“But Gordon, camping is crap, flies in your caviar, no Macca’s for your hangovers and sleeping can be uncomfortable” pipes in Sandy.

“Not when you travel to a different solar system in the SS He Who Cannot be Named II” replies Gordon. “I have activated the ship and we off the the planet Blat, to kill cats.”

“Count us in” say the boys.

So we do all the science fiction stuff, you know beam up to the ship, fly so fast your

Looks more like snot to me

nose bleeds and then descend to the planet surface in a space pod, fully self sustaining so that no evidence, oops, rubbish is left behind to damage the environment. Wheeze clean, mean and green. Sounds like a slogan for a certain political party.

The pod lands and settles itself gently on a grassy patch next to a pristine river estuary flowing out to sea. Crikey, sounds like Summer Bay.

“What’s for dinner?” asks Geez trying to get his word count up and who has been in absentia (or is that dementia) for the last few stories.

“Ask auto cook” Emmjay contributes being much in the same bracket.

“Auto cook responding. Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and the door shall be opened up to you.”

“Stop, none of that religion bullshit” affirms Hung, smoke absolutely pouring out of his cigarette.

“How about roasted leg of beast with potatoes, carrots served with jus and mulled

Roasted Beast

wine” Gib pontificates “Oh and greens for fun, followed by a peach frangipane with

home made ice cream and raspberry compote covered with crushed almonds and icing sugar.”

“Swap the mulled wine for Shiraz and you got me” says Angler.

Cheers and beers all round.

“Auto cook responding, go the mass has ended, thanks be to Gordon…”

“No, no, no, no religion. I told you Mark, no fucking religion okay!” reinforces Hung.

“Hung, I’m not even in this episode, I’m on holidays at Long Bay but point taken” says Mark.

Seven days later, no one had thought to go outside, shoot cats, discover the

Here kitty

environment, meditate, do yoga, kill cats, look out the window, debate Chaos theory, find an algorithm that actually works but no matter everyone returned to Inner Cyberia in a totally happy mood.

So Honshades approaches the boys on return from space. “So boys, how many cats did you kill?”

“Coupla hundred” lies Gib.

“At least a thousand” lies Angler.

“Tens of thousands, wheeze run out of ammo” lies Gordon.

“Well none actually but wheeze brought one home” says the ever truthful Emmjay.

“Don’t tell Helvi but I’m in love with auto cook” says Gez.

One too many beers I fink…

 

Picture is from left to right, Sandy, Gib, Emmjay (at rear, as usual), Angler, Gordon, Foodge, Neville and Gez. O’Hoo is the stiff.

This is the cat that Emmjay brought back, aw we how cute, now they infest the whole planet, oh well.

How cute, we nick named her Cockroach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me and Gordon

05 Friday Dec 2014

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Fish and Chips, Gordon, Gordon O’Donnell

Me and Gordon

By WhateverHisNameIs

 

The Face of God, Gordon O'Donnell

The Face of God, Gordon O’Donnell

Some of you that have read my stories will know about Gordon, Gordon O’Donnell, the astrophysicist from another dimension that is currently using our universe to study for his degree. Well this story is about when I first met Gordon. Now with all my Early Days stories some of it is true, some is artistic licence and some is just pure bullshit however most of this story is true.

It was about the middle of my last year at high school all though being a Catholic I was at college and I just wanted out, big time. My grades had been gradually dropping due to an event that occurred outside of my control. I was 16. I knew I was 16 as I said to my mother,

“Mum, how old am I?” I asked.

“16” she replied, therefore I was 16, would a mother lie, don’t think so.

It was Friday, how did I know it was Friday you ask? Well on Friday we had Fish and Chips for tea, so it was Friday. Oh yes, I loved Fish and Chips and still do but it was definitely Friday. I had been playing rugby league for my school and at half time I needed to do a wee however when I did my urine was basically blood. Hmm, how odd.

So on Friday night when tucking in to my fish and chips I said “Mum, when I go to the toilet my urine is red” thinking that at dinner this was the best way to raise this issue.

Little sis said “Oh yuck, how off Hung, go away” or words to that effect.

But Ma and Pa were pretty smart and Mum said “Well Hung, next time you go don’t flush and let me have a look” and so I did. Mum was shocked.

“Do you fell okay Hung?” she inquired, well yeah, duh “Well lets get you to the doctor Monday morning” said Mum.

Yes, there is a God,  a day off school just for pissing blood, bring it on, doesn’t get better than this, mate, I’m in heaven.

As the weekend passed I started to feel unwell and by Monday I was actually glad to see the doctor. They put me in hospital and within a day or two I was transferred to a hospital in the big smoke called the RPA or what I now know as the Royal Pigs Arms. My doctors name was Merv, my nurse was Glenda however my favorite memories are about the wardsman called Foodge. Oh yes, those were the days.  I was diagnosed with Glomerulonephritis and after some time I was sent back to my local hospital

Glenda in a quiet moment

Glenda in a quiet moment

I told mum to bring me home. The food was shocking and I did most of the other stuff for myself.  I was losing weight at an alarming rate and for a skinny kid that was a real worry. The doctor let me go home as long as I drank this stuff what we would now call Sustagen. Me brother would finish in the Pit at 2 and come round at take me to the shower so Ma didn’t have to do everything.

“Wash your own dick” said big bro but it was just good to feel clean and to wash my hair, this was something that I never took for granted ever again. Big Bro then would towel me down and put me in clean clothes and take me back to my room.

Sleep. Yes sleep was one thing that I excelled at. I reckon I slept about 16 hours a day, take pills, drink this and then sleep. I wasn’t doing very well apparently, not that I knew but according to Mum I was fading.

Mum got the GP to visit, Dr. Gottafix. “Yes Mrs On, your son is in bad shape so I will give him S.H.I.T” said the good doctor.

“Shit” said Mum.

“Yes SHIT” said Dr Gottafix, “Subcutaneous Hypodermic Injectable Tonic, when I was in uni my tutor said when all else fails give ‘em shit”

Anyway, later that night after my pills and special drink I just wanted to go to sleep. And I did. Me arse hurt from the injection as I was skin and bone and I was so tired I couldn’t care less about anything anyone said. Then something happened. My room lit up and a man appeared at the end of my bed. “Gidday mate, names Gordon, Gordon O’Donnell, some call me God but I prefer Gordy” said the creature.

“Are you a pommy mate?” I asked given his accent and flat cap.

“Well, sort of” said Gordon “but more importantly I’m here to help you save the universe”

Groan, went my brain. I feel like dying and here is some pommy illusion trying to tell me how to save the universe. “How can I do that fella?”

“Well” Gordon replied cautiously “On Boxing Day you and you dad will be watching the Ashes test in  the lounge room and your big sis will tell you a funny story about people she works with you that will be about male nurses. All you need to do is say “” I could do that”” and you will be set on a path to save the universe”

MaleNursesUnited“And if I don’t?” I ask defiantly.

“Well if you don’t you will not create me therefore I won’t exist and I created the universe therefore the universe will cease to exist” says Gordon.

Shit.

I slept heavily that night and in the morning I finally felt hungry. Weeks later I returned to school and sat and passed my final exams. We had a wonderful family Christmas. Boxing Day arrived, me and Dad in the lounge waiting for the first ball when I remembered Gordon’s visit. Now what did I have to say to big sis,

Do that I could

I do that could

Could that I do

That could I do

Do could that I

That do could I

This was driving me crazy but apparently I needed to save the universe.

Big Sis entered, “You bloody blokes, always watching cricket, now let me tell you about some of the male nurses blah blah blah…”

“I could do that” I utter on cue therefore becoming a nurse therefore creating Gordon therefore saving the universe.

First Published: https://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/12/05/me-and-gordon/

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