Tag Archives: humour

Merv wants a day orf

31 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by in Mark

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Merv has a fink about it

 

Story by Mark.

Merv wakes to the usual smell of bacon, gently frying in the pan, some freshly brewed coffee and hot toast but today is different. Merv has decided not to get out of bed, he wants a day orf. After finding out he has family, Mack, Mick, Mark, Mike and Minx, a sister, he has decided he needs some time out.  All identical twins, as the author can’t spell sextuplets, plus there will be nothing for perverts in this story, I mean surely there must be a better word for six then sex. Merv has to use all his fingers and toes to get the counting right but yes, six of them. Uno, duo, duo plus one, duo plus duo minus uno and so it goes on, all the way to sex, oops, I mean six, you perverts.

Granny knocks at the door as it is getting late, thinking that Merv is masticating about somefink. “Wake up wanker, I have your breakfast ready and it’s almost time to open the bar”

Stick it up your arse, I need a day orf

Granny pushes the door open hoping to find Merv doing somefink he wished he didn’t only to find Merv snugly covered by his doona or nona or blanket, so many words so little time.

“Granny, I’m having a day orf. I is overwhelmed by all this family all of a sudden and eyes need a day orf. Get Hung to run the bar and the Jones boy to take the money.”

Granny places Merv’s breakfast on his bedside table, bacon, scrambled eggs, dry white toast, tomato juice and black coffee. One of the meals she lovingly makes for him everyday. For Merv to want a day orf this must be serious, granny decides she needs some wise council(yes I know).

Well the girls aren’t in yet so there goes that option, Foodge and O’Hoo, don’t think so and when the door opens and it’s Gib and Angler fresh from a cat shoot and wanting some

Did you say cat?

refreshments and revelry before facing any reality, yes thinks Granny, these are my people, well till they fuck up.

“Granny, drinks and wedges all round” cry the lads, none of this shut up and take my money bullshit.

“Boys, can you talk to Merv. He wants a day orf after meeting all his family. He didn’t even have a wank this morning” replies Granny as she pours some glass canoes.

The boys quickly down their beers, then another one and maybe one more, perhaps even another then quickly ascend the stairs to Merv’s room.

“Merv, what’s wrong old cock?” asks Angler, feeling a bit wobbly plus knowing Merv didn’t even have a wank this morning. Something is seriously wrong. I mean the

Stick your hand up your own arse

last time you would have went without one was the day you got your electric bill. See how serious this is!

“Yeah Merv, get out of fucking bed and down to the bar” discreetly requests Gib, gentle and kind as always.

“I’m having a day orf, so go away.” replies Merv.

“So look Merv, I’m a nurse and Angler is not a nurse so trust us, what’s the real problem?” pleads Gib.

“Well, you promise not to laugh” well like a red rag to a bull the boys laugh but swear allegiance to Gordon, the creator of the universe, that they will be on their best behaviour.

“Well” says Merv “Now I have all these identical twin brothers and twin sister, how am I expected to know their birthdays!!”

 

Me and family

 

Merv finds more family

24 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by in Mark

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Merv and family

Story by the guy at the keyboard.

Merv was standing behind the bar, washing the glasses and refreshing the spittoons when the door opened and a man walked in an ordered a beer. Merv didn’t take any notice at first but when he looked up at the man he saw a reflection of himself.

“Um, er, Mick?” asked Merv thinking it was his identical twin brother Mick from Mick’s Auto Mechanics and Florist Shop.

“No, I’m Mack, your other identical twin brother” said the man, um, er, I mean Mack.

“But doesn’t that make us identical triplets?” enquired Merv intelligently for a change.

“But wait there’s more. There are five of us, me, you, Mick, Mike and Mark. All identical twins” said Mack.

“But that makes us…”

“No, identical twins. The author can’t spell that word so we won’t mention it, okay?”

“Um, er, suppose, okay I guess. What’s brought you here Mack?”

“I went to see my doctor, Doctor Doctor and I said to her, doctor doctor give me the news I gotta bad case of lovin you but she told me that I have Stupiditis and that it runs in the family”

My Christmas outfit

“Stupiditis!!” double exclamation marks remarks Merv.

“But wait there’s more. It also affects our identical twins” counters Mack.

“You mean our qu…”

“Don’t mention that word, the author can’t spell it plus he wants an extra set of steak knifes hence the double mention of but wait there’s more”

“Stupiditis” say Merv “I don’t get it”

“Exactly” replies Mack. “It’s a disease that is so subtle that you don’t get it till it’s too late. Like what did you do this morning?”

“Dunno, got up, had a shower, got dressed, ogled granny, scratched my nuts, washed glasses and replaced the spittoons” says Merv feeling quite bewildered.

“Yes, that’s because that is what you do every day. When was Gordon here last?” presses Mack.

“Dunno”

“Stupiditis” says Mack. “Lets test it out with a few of the patrons. Hey Foodge, what did you do yesterday?”

“Smoked lots of cigarettes, drank heaps of booze, represented a fine defaulter in court, told the Prime Minister to stick his head up his arse, usual sort of thing why do you ask?” replies Foodge.

“No reason” says Mack. “See Merv, what do really remember about yesterday?”

“Dunno, I fink I got outta bed, came down here to the bar and later went back to bed”

“Stupiditis, big time” says the twins.

Merv and family

Merv has a Brother

29 Wednesday Nov 2017

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Gordon is worried about somefink

 

There was a loud banging on the door at the Pigs Arms.

“Let me in, let me in” cried Gordon “I need a drink, something tragic has happened.”

Merv rouses from his slumber and opens the door. “What’s up Gordy?” he asks without a care for the answer, it’s 8 o’clock in the morning and opening time is still two hours away, one hour and 59 minutes of blissful sleep lost.

“Six pints of Special and two serves of wedges, me gizmo is broken” wails Gordon.

Merv pours a few pints for Gordon then goes out to the kitchen to fire up the ovens

Simulated Trotters Special Ale

and fryers. “What frigging gizmo is broken Gordon?” he yells.

“It’s me SPIT” replies Gordon. “My Small Personal Interplanetary Teleporter”

Thank Gord I didn’t need an explanation for that one thinks Merv as he returns to the bar and pours some more pints for Gordon.

“Well go and see my brother Mick, down the road and round the corner at Mick’s Auto Mechanics and Florist Shop, just between Rosie’s and Glenda’s” says Merv.

“I didn’t know you had a brother” says Gordon as he downs yet another glass canoe.

Nah, me neither thinks Merv but then again I don’t write this shit either.

Gordon downs his last pint and his two servings of wedgies with extra herring and

Simulated wedgies

Vegemite sauce and heads down the road and round the corner to Mick’s Auto Mechanics and Florist shop although the road seems to be acting funny, it’s swaying all over the place making it difficult for Gordon to step forward on every occasion. Maybe I should have had seven pints thinks Gordy, these planets in the Milky Way are trouble.

Gordon enters the foyer at the workshop to be greeted by a lovely display of petunias, orchids and lilies. No one is in attendance so he rings the bell on the counter.

A man appears in overalls and a sweaty face. “Yes, how may I help you?” says the man.

“Hey” says Gordon “you’re Merv in a set of overalls and some water chucked on your face to look like sweat”

“Look, I’m playing my identical twin brother Mick as Emmjay has said to cut down on

Simulated Mick

production costs so just go along with it, okay? Extra casts means extra expense, get it!” asserts Mick or Merv whoever.

“Hmm, well I need my gizmo fixed and your identical twin brother sent me here to get it fixed” blasts Gordon thinking maybe he should of had eight pints. “Don’t have any other brothers do you?”

“Not sure yet till we get to the end of the story” replies Mick. “Lilies are on special you know.”

“Fuck lilies, can you fix my gizmo?” says Gordon wishing for another pint and handing over his SPIT. Don’t ya just hate people who spit.

Simulated ripoff merchant

“Um, probably, it will be costly” replies Mick as he takes the gizmo from Gordon. Mick looks at the bottom of the device and notices that the on/off switch is in the off position and switches it back on and hands it to Gordon. “That’ll be $500 fanks.”

Haven’t we all be there at some stage.

AI Is no Chook Raffle.

15 Wednesday Nov 2017

Posted by in Sandshoe

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Only 50 cents a ticket, finger lickin’ good…

 

Story by Sandshoe.

AI is no chook raffle.

“Won’t get off the ground.”

Sandy and Gordon were gettin’ another earful. Gordon got cocky. Instead of keepin’

Gordon steadies himself to sing

strictly in time with the karaoke-singin’-to-Gordon, he went out on a limb preachin’ AI well under the stormy weather.

“What happened to Blame it on the Bossy Nova? Tell us moa, and when, now” yelled out the patrons bit under the stormy weather.

Cue the protestors.

“ALL ducks are quackers.”

“Big statement. Right on.”

Everyone in the crowd started feinting, yeah, imaginary boxing moves in the air and proved they were replaced by AI robots spoilin’ for a setup. “Go, you young turkies”, they chanted. They tick and tocked all over the place. It’s virtual reality noiseworks. Made to sound like bangin’ out a good story on a typewriter. I think not. I miss the sound of the carriage return.

(Carriage return).

Yes, this is me and my name’s Shoe and I’m here to help.

“Nah, it’s untrue.” Gordon was unusually loud for a man and woman of science. He looked same as the tablecloth with Sandy’s beer that fell accidental on him in the name of science. Which was when Sandy threw it at Babel. More beer per chook more production.

Babel was already the best layer. Sandy’s judgement was affected by cosmicness and

Princess Layer

the lightness, Merv had too much to do to be affected, he had to run a pub. He kept saying it into the mirror behind the bar. He got Angler and Gib back from Hornsby. Someone did because they are both round the place.

Mangled, melodic mountains rock.

So Merv put up with a lot of addressin’ himself in the mirror. Granny was brewin’ up a sunny day. Foodge helped Granny titrate.

It’s a full-on battle now. AI reckons the brewin’ is not a generic statement of factual engagement, but a politico-fraco-fungal statement revealin’ unrest and the cellar is a metaphor.

Nice try.

Granny’s brewin’ be buggered it’s simple and it’s science. Sandy’s spewin’ about Babel pooping in his beer it’s that simple be buggered not a lot of science. Ok, Gord is the

A fresh beer Merv!

whole works, reality speakin’ in a runny eggshell. AI test checked Gordon O’Donnell as she and he.

Yeah, hahaha, likely story and we won’t fall for it. We’re too sofistickated.

The Boys go to Blat

03 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in Mark

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sister Yvonne gets a new job

16 Monday Oct 2017

Posted by in Sandshoe

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No, pass the sauce not the horse…

Story by Sandshoe

BREAKING NEWS: Sister Yvonne gets a new job.

Foodge was up early with the Guide out of the middle of The Clarion.

Flat Out Like A Lizard Drinkin’s tipped to run better than she did in Cawfield’s The Crescent Moon he read out aloud.

Paper Roses was playing on the juke box.

P-a-p-e-r R-o-s-e-s his Uncle Merv was crooning in the way someone

What’s this paper crap?

mopping does. A-l-w-a-y-s m-a-k-e m-e b-l-u-e. Foodge set his uncle straight.

“Uncle Merv, the word’s cry.”

“It’s my spin on it. P-a-p-e-r R-o-s-e-s A-l-w-a-y-s m-a-k-e m-e b-l-ooo-ooo…

Ok Foodge, if he’s singing he’s happy mopping. One more ‘p’ than moping. We don’t want the right words. Nobody pays Merv a lick of sauce so blue is fine. Blue makes the sun shine for Merv. Cry implies mopping with only one ‘p’. We can afford the second ‘p’.

Arch the Accountant from Whizzzzzz Accountancy dropped in, always on the fly, Arch the Hell’s Angle who got ambitious to help the petite

An advanced motorscooter

bourgeoisie. It was on his t-shirt.

“Where’s Angler and Gib?”

“Cannot rightfully say, Mr Arch. They’re waiting, I know that much.”

Merv was contemplating Nurse Barbara as if he had never seen her before. His glasses steamed up from the steaming hot water he poured into the mop bucket.

“Why?’

Now condensing steam was running off Merv’s glasses and leaving him a

Nurse Barbara feeds the chooks

pane of opportunity. He had bought an especially large pair of glasses for this very purpose of seeing. “Pres Nurse Barbara,” Merv said.

“Yes” she answered mistaking Merv’s declarative as precedent to a summative.

Merv said they were going to Bondi. Nurse Barbara pointed out to Merv straight off going is not waiting, not with the other.

“It’s true, Nurse Barbara!” Sister Yvonne had slipped out of the local vet surgery. Everybody was getting out and about. Yes, Sister Yvonne had slipped unexpectedly and as suddenly into a new career and the old veterinarian’s surgery, the Pigs’ Knob, Sister Yvonne, back from the United States of America, a Veterinariae Medicinae Doctor.

She was carrying a ladder. “Chooks,” she said in passing, “Angler and Gib are going to Bondi. They’re waiting at Hornsby.”

‘They’re out of town? Is that where it is?”

“That’s for sure,” Merv was witness. “Went south. Good as flew.”

Therese Trouserzoff made a surprising appearance on the street pavement. She strummed a uke and she sang, “Why,” she couldn’t help

Therese ponders life the universe and everything

her important self, “don’t they go to Bondi if that’s where they’re going instead of waiting at Hornsby?”

Someone ought give Therese the bestest job ever. She has us all to support. Retro.

Arch shrugged his craggy, leather-clad shoulders. “You blokes ever been before?” He meant the femmes as well. Merv was shoo-ing him, neverthelessness out the back door pronto tonto. “There’s nothing in Horns…” Arch’s words faded and Merv came back in the front door. He was carrying held up before him a tourist promotion package.

“LOOK!” he said, “Fallen off the back of a truck! At the front door! Lying on the ground! Even a map! Good money in this sort of publishing! How to get to Hornsby! Up and offed they did. Angler and Gib.”

GO TO HORNSBY! DON’T WAIT!

WAIT UNTIL YOU GO TO BONDI!

Gib, Angler and the boys drop in for a drink or fifteen.

Merv goes to the Bank

15 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by in Big M

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Going to the bank. Look left, then right and then, look theft again.

 

Story by Big M.

Merv was discombobulated. He still hadn’t recovered from the loss of the Pigs Arms dot matrix, and had just made it home before the ticket, or now known, as the Opal Card Inspector got on the bus. The driver had laughed at Merv’s effort to exchange postage stamps for travel, and had told that half the commuters didn’t have a card anyway.

It had really started this morning. He had asked a delivery driver to take back six kegs that were off. The driver agreed that they were all from a batch that had been recalled, and didn’t Merv get the email, or see it on our website? Merv thought he was talking gobbledegook, so cut to the chase and asked for a cheque. “A what, mate? A

It’s real for sure, it says so here

cheque, medieval thinking man, the boss will just do a bank transfer, if we’ve got yer BSB ‘n’ account number on file.” Merv had always been happy to get a cheque, so went inside to ring the manager of the brewery, who was friendly, but insisted that he go through the website, or email to him. Merv ended up ringing the bank to find out his BSB and account number, only to find that they had just stopped issuing passbooks, and could he email all of his details to the bank. It all sounded like something for Emmjay to sort out, but could he wait for Emmjay’s next visit?

Then lunchtime. Some young blokes wanted to pay for their meal and beers on ‘paywave’. Merv reckoned that as long as they paid, he’d wave at them. “No silly, on our cards!”’ Well, fuck me.’ Thought Merv.’Wavin’ credit cards to pay for stuff.’ He had eventually got one of them to go and get some cash for the payment.

I swear, eyes was a boy when eyes woke up

Meanwhile he was walking from kitchen to Gentlemen’s Bar when he caught one of the young lads going into the Ladies Toilets. “’ang on there, young feller!” Merv had him by the collar.

“Unhand me, I’m a lady, or, at least I am today.” Squirmed the little bloke.

“You look like a bloke to me!” Merv was ready to throw him into the carpark.

“Well, I’m Gender Fluid, I felt like a boy this morning, so dressed accordingly, but now, after a few drinks, I feel like a girl.” The prisoner had managed to wiggle out of Merv’s massive hands. “Besides, it’s you fault for not having Trans Bathrooms!” Merv just let him/her go.

Then, back at the bar, Merv asked some of the bar flies about ‘Gender fluid’. Of course the nurses didn’t bat an eyelid, or many lids, they had seen too much of it, whilst Angler and Gib reckoned they’d read about it but never seen it. Mark claimed it was

I think that toilet is overflowing Merv.

something to do with sitting down to take a piss. Shoe reckoned she’d seen it, and read and written about it, and, if Merv bothered to read what’s on his own website, may have learned all about it! “We have a website?” Sputtered Merv, still none the wiser.

Foodge wanted to pay for his beer on his Visa (again, what’s with the travel references?), and get a cash advance. “You want to pay on what? And get cash too?” Merv was aghast. Clearly he’d missed something crucial in the world of business, so put Granny in charge of the bar and took off for the bank.

The Assistant Manager looked about fifteen, but, as The Pigs Arms was such a valued customer, spent ages talking about internet banking, paying and receiving payments

The Bank Manager

online, how to set up a new credit system called ‘Visa’, and what other credit cards ‘Visa’ recognised, and where the money goes once the vendor processes a ‘Visa’ payment, and how ‘paywave’ is part of ‘Visa’, and no, when the customer gets a cash advance it’s not from the vendor’s account. When the young bloke was finished he asked Merv what sort of operating system he had. “Well, mate, we were just about to update to a Pentium!” Merv could barely conceal his glee.

“Well, Mr Merv, I think you should go a few steps beyond a Pentium. I’ll tell you what, you can purchase a complete commercial set up that links into all of our ‘Visa’ machines. I think they’ve got them on sale at Bing Lee’s!”

Merv went pale, then feinted, to find Granny standing over him. “Wake, up Merv, I need a hand!”

‘Thank the Lord, it was only a nightmare!’ Thought Merv.

“Them Transgender dunnies are blocked again, can you get in there an’ shift it?”

Ain’t life a bitch…

 

 

Episode 95 – Foodge Granny Reminisces

08 Friday Sep 2017

Posted by in Big M, Foodge Private Dick

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Manne brings his battery to the bar

Granny Reminisces (the other bit)

Story by Big M

MR Foodge appeared at the bar. “What’s wrong, my young, mentally challenged, chap?” Foodge always thought that ‘mentally challenged’ was a sort of compliment.

“Oh, ah, me phone.” Manne proffered the dead instrument to Foodge.

“Ah, yes, no battery…hold on.” Foodge rummaged through his Dressing Gown pockets,

Call Emmjay now for a good time on 1800-Big-One

and came up with three bobby pins, many tissues (yike), paper clips, a photo of Granny, and a iPhone lead. He looked around eagerly for a charger.

“Here, mate.” Angler, who didn’t seem to be part of the story, passed along one of those fancy backup battery, thingummies. “Never leave home without it.”

“Fabulous.” Foodge put it all together. “Now, let’s all see what our young friend is on about?”

YOUR IOS DEVICE IS INFECTED WITH SEVEN VIRUSES, WHICH WERE FROM PORN SITES. OUR ANTIVIRUS CAN ERRADISHCAKE THEM FOR ONLY $129.99.

Nurse Intensive Care

Foodge raised a baristerial eyebrow, then passed it to Angler, who nearly fell orff his barstool laughing, who passed it to Gib who nearly choked on his ale, before passing it to Hung who sniggered before passing it to the night duty nurses, who all laughed uproariously, before giving it to Emmjay, who, being a serious, fatherly sort of a cove, shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just a scam, Manne, there won’t really be porno driven viruses in your phone!”

“Porno, porno, yer watchin’ porno?” Granny snatched the phone from Emmjay for a good look. “You’ve got three tabs open, fulla nudies!” Granny smacked him a couple of times around the back of the head.

“Now, Granny, calm yourself.” Foodge managed to hold her back preventing her from unleashing another salvo of slaps. “You know he’s got a soft head, which won’t take much abuse!”

“Well, I won’t have a pervert under my roof, back yer bags, and yer titty magazines, or whatever yerve got!”

Bambi does Dallas

“Now, Granny, Dear.” Started Foodge. “This may be a symptom of something much deeper…”

“Yes, a deep perve!” Granny slammed the phone down on the bar, cracking the glass.

“No, er, well. Yes, but not perve, um, I mean perversion.” Foodge tried to clean up the glass. “I suspect that our Manne is, well, lonely.”

He’ll be fuckin’ lonely..” Granny was red faced, with beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

“No, well, that’s what I’m trying to say, our faithful retainer, young Manne, needs a woman in his life.”

Folk struggling with sexuality

“A woman, thought he was gay, or Mormon, or something!” Granny was trying to mop the sweat from her face with some of those recycled serviettes, you all know, the brown ones that doing everything except absorb fluid.

“I’m not gay, or Mormon, or Callithumpian!” Manne had at last found his voice. “While we’re at it, do I owe some phone people $129.99 Mr Emmjay?”

“No, son.” Resonated Emmjay’s kindly voice. ”But your phone’s fucked!” With that he left.

“So, yer on the level then, Foodge?” Granny seemed to be calmed by Foodge’s presence.

“Of course, my Dear!” Foodge blushed to be calling Granny ‘Dear’ in front of the patrons. “The question is, where would we find a girl for Mann?”

Foodge and Granny

Merv goes Solar

07 Thursday Sep 2017

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Merv and the boys having a few Trotters at the front bar

 

Merv goes Solar.

Story by Mark.

Merv is a bit worried at the moment as he has received a power bill for the pub from the WheezeGunnaRipYouOff power company. Apparently the power bill for the Pigs Arms has gone up from $4 a year to $5 dollars a year. And if you take 4 away from 5 you get, um, well a really big number, maybe even binary.

“Granny, get ear” yells Merv, “Somefinks wrong with Bill”.

“Who the hell is Bill, anyway I’m to busy making wedgies with my famous herring and

Granny gets on top

Vegemite sauce” replies Granny in a fit of rage.

“No its electricity Bill, the one that the honest straight up government that never told a lie said it wouldn’t happen” says Merv.

“But days a pack of poofters Merv, days as bent as Alan Jones” gruffs Granny.

“But if you take 4 away from 5 you get an awful increase in our power bills. Wheeze need to talk to the pub owner” implores Merv. “However wheeze don’t know who that is.”

Gordon materialises at the bar. Geez, I wish he wouldn’t do that as he may scare kiddies.

“Gordon, do you own the Pigs Arms?” asks Merv.

“Nah, not me mate I voted Labor. So lets work this through, fictional characters wont, so Granny, Merv, Hedgie, Fern and Foodge are out. Now pass me the phone book. I’ll dial the Pigs Arms and see who answers” says Gordon.

What was that phone number again

Ring, ring, ring ring ring etc., as we all know it would only be woman to answer the fone, the men are too busy scratching their nuts and boasting about how good they was on the footy field. “Hello, The Window Dressers Arms Pig and Whistle, Granny speaking”

“Granny I’d like to speak to Dee Owner” says Gordon using his best British accent.

Granny announces “Phone call for Dee, Dee Owner, phone call for Dee Owner.”

The crew look perplexed and say nothing as Emmjay appears out of the men’s with urine stain intact on the front of his pants, forgot to shake that last drop and takes the call.

“Yes, Emmjay hear, to whom is I speaking” replies the only educated one in the room, well except for the girls.

“My name is Goldenrod Longeron” replies Gordon using his quick wit and a gizmo he got from Spaceworld on special for $9.99 to make him appear godly. “It’s to do with your electricity Bill that has gone up by a $1 per year and your staff are concerned about how this bill will be paid seeing no one pays their extensive bar tabs at your establishment. Are you the owner?”

“Oh no” says Emmjay “ Therese Trouserzoff is the owner you would have to speak to

“Therese!”
“Trouserzoff!”
Lovely to meet you

him or her.”

“Well is he or she there?” asks Gordon.

“Um no, but give me your name, number,  breast size and penis length and I’ll get him or her to call you” dodges Emmjay.

“Okay, my name is Dendron Dongle Rondo and my number is 555-5555 and eyes from the WheezeGunnaRipYouOff company, 44DD and 30 cm ” replies Gordon.

Emmjay is starting to shit himself at this stage and thinks well at least that matches the urine stain on his $500 Levi’s. One front one rear.

Wadda ya think about going renewable?

“Hey, I’ve got an idea” chips in Merv “Lets go solar and piss this wanker off. I remember at skoll learning so la fark tea dough, wadda ya reckon.”

 

 

 

The mind, if you have one, boggles.

 

Americans hate beards…

Episode 92 – Foodge hits the road.

21 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

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Won’t someone think of the children

Story by Mark.

You know, the one thing that is certain is that nothing is certain. Don’t you just hate pithy sayings like that, that make sense. Now you’re okay with me getting things off my chest, nothing like a long bow, the other one that bugs me is this verse of a song who I have no idea who wrote it,

All men, all men are liars their words ain’t worth no more that worn out tyres

Hey girls, bring rusty pliers, to pull this tooth all men are liars and that’s the truth*

Said by a man making it a lie. Need I go on.

I’m in the flyer on my way to Newie, first class overnight, the Bish knows how to treat his favourite barista.

[Stop Hung, it’s barrister. Cannot I, Foodge, not perform on the stage, true to my character? Am I not a person with needs and wants, a light in a window breaks and a butterfly flays it’s wings half way round the planet so prepare for a hurricane. Those are things that make me fight for truth and justice for my client and heaps of Cyberian dollars your Honor. Objection over ruled Foodge.]

Okay then well, seen it’s being nice to me week, barrister and especially after me and the Bish had this conversation.

“Look Foodge, it’s like this. Gordon has rung me and said you should get out of town for a few days, you know just till things settle down.”

“What things?” replies Foodge, stiff upper lip and all that.

All aBout Cyberians

“Oh c’mon Foodge, it’s in the press, the Cyberograph, even the ABC(All aBout Cyberians).

“Well, Bish I have no idea about what you are talking about. Tell me what episode number are you up to?”

“Um, 94, you?”

“Er, 92, look, wheeze is both in the wrong episode, easy fixed, see ya then, been great catching up, say hello to Bronwyn, is the overnight to Newie all on Gordon still okay?”

“Well, yes, due to all the confusion we’ll catch up later.”

“Um, what am I about to do in the next exciting episode?” inquires Foodge.

“Piss off.”

Interval

Pie tasters wanted, apply online or call Alan now on 555 5555…

 

Gib and Angler pick me up at the station in the modified Zephyr. They both have shotguns stuffed down heir pants and bragged how the girls like a big member. I thought yes, some times spotting dicks is a talent. I should now, I’ve been a dick for so long it’s become second nature. I’ve been a proud dick and times and I’ve flopped

A modified Zephyr

for various reasons however I am now convinced that once you are a dick you will always be a dick and I’d even go as far to say that I was born a dick and just like all those other dicks around me.

[Oh, spare us please, I’ll interject on behalf of everyone and I’m writing this. Get on with it.]

“Fantastic car, how much modification did you need to do?” asks Foodge.

“Nah, not much, well a bit, sort of a fair bit that turned into a lot. Once we could get the door handles and window winders working we were set. Then there was the motor however this story has a word limit” says Gib.

“Wadda ya doing in Newie?” asks Angler “Hope you don’t want us to kill no one. Good game of footy this weekend and to be frank one of the two give me indigestion.”

“Nah, Gordon and the Bish sent me here to get ready for episode 94. Apparently I’m in the shit”

“Nothings changed then” chorus the lads.

 

*Nick Lowe

“What’s that in your pocket?”