Tag Archives: Mark

Father O’Way – The Middle Ages 1

22 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by in Mark

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O'Way we go

O’Way we go

Well, I suppose that you will now want to know about the middle bits, you know before I go into sp…

[Cut,cut, cut, no one move, Mike the Editor here, Mark don’t give away the story just yet]

… yeah right before I go into spontaneity and go along with the script. Even my spell checker says I spelt spontaneity right once I corrected it. Isn’t life just grand. Well let me tell you what’s been happening since I’ve seen you last.

Now lets see, lets start with the meetings. Out under our charming marquee with the Bishop at the head of the table and you have Sister Horribleness at the other head of the table it you get my drift and the rest of us just pull up a pew, literally.6459934-funny-priest-with-mean-nun-holding-ruler Don’t wanna type too loud here just in case the old bat can still hear.

“Did you have something to say Father O’Way?” asked the kind but hirsute Sister, a frequent visitor at Glenda’s House of Pain, next door. “Please address the chair if you wish to speak.”

“Yes your Excellency” I say beauteously. Hey, nice word, like when they come out of Glenda’s House of Pain, a face of pure agony but looking beauteously. However it sort of rhymes with “beat him up” as they look at a lonely priest, especially one that doesn’t require either the agony or the ecstasy.

Well my chair don’t speak nothing Sister so I let it rip, both barrels, no holding back, oh yes, you should have seen me in action. In fact my with my wit and intelligence I thrashed her to within plus or minus 2.5 centremeters of her life. I forcibly spoke to her, barely able to contain my anger, anger so extreme that I replied “Yes Sister, Thank You Sister” grrrh, forever the diplomat.

Replica wedding tent - not actual size

Bishop Veri Bent takes the stage, you were hoping I was going to say rostrum weren’t you, oh well shit happens, even in your duds.

The Bishop outlines our jobs, Billy is to help get some ramps in for disabled kids and me I had to find a home for some refugees. Bishop Bent picked up the bill which was paid for by attendees of the church, unbelievable people in my view. You know, you would almost think this was fiction.

And that was it, do that as best you can through the week and attend service every Sunday except twice a year some special day nearer New Year and Good Easter Day when the Church of St Generic Brand is shut. Wow. Sandy like.

Now let me tell you about some of the staff. They all come to the meetings on Monday at 11 am which Veri loves as he likes time to wake up, coffee paper and nicotine patch on the porch, a tub then breakfast then into it. Veri didn’t care what time it was when he finished work. When asked what his favourite time was, he would always say “Drink o’clock mate” but Billy on the other hand likes to be up and at it early, told you he was odd.

Everyone contributes however the two heads at the table make the final decision. Anyhoo, it always boils down to who needs help the most. Lotta dem poor in Inner Cyberia especially in the Western suburbs where we all live.

online-fashion-shoppingWe have a group of women that run the place. They are all sisters, er, um, biologically Belinda, Juanita, Jacinta, Melinda, Rosita, Edwina , Sophia and Cassandra Citizen. The prettiest by far is Belinda, gulg, gulg, how can a mug like me ever approach a girl like that. Belinda walks past, my attention is fixed, my mind closes and I only vaguely remember how to speak, I mean here comes the best looking girl in the Universe. Do you get the feeling that I like the look of her…

[Mark here mate, get on with it, again]

…subtle intelligence emanating from her studious looks and her delightful smile.

“Hi, Sandy” she said as if my name was Sandy and I looked like someone who needed saying hello to. “My names Belinda I believe you have met all my sisters except Glenda, she’s got her own shop next door, you know, the House of Pain, lets hope you never have to go and have your short and curly’s done” she said laughing and me too, I think this is just so far fetched that it is stretching the boundaries of fiction, fancy me being talked to by such a bewitching girl.

“Meet to glad you” I say in my usual dumb way however we both laughed again.
“Anyhoo, I’m off to do some more jobs, hope to see you around” Belinda replies romantically…

[Cut, cut, no one move, Mike the Editor again, Mark, Belinda is just being kind to Sandy, she’s not in love with him]

…okay then she replies in a non-perfunctory manner. [Mark here, is that better? Are these editor types spoilt sports or what.]

Look let me know if you fall asleep, I’ll read it to you again if you like.

See ya next time.

Nurse Barbara – Gravel Rock meets SAVLON

19 Saturday Mar 2016

Posted by in Mark, Vivienne

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nurse03

Written by HOO aka Mark

“Why don’t people in these stories ever answer their phones, isn’t that why they were created” says Nurse Barbara to herself, odd seeing she actually is alone and no one is actually answering the phone. Sandy won’t answer, Gordon is watching TV and the Bish is smoking in his den. My bet is they’re down the pub. I’d tell the Bishop but he’ll just say lets bring it up at the meeting and then has any one ordered the pizza’s yet, a true leader as her thoughts waft to anchovy and olive pizza, hmm.

Anyhoo, down at the pub Foodge was feeling a little edgy till a Little Edgy moved away from Foodge to the end of the bar. See Little Edgy was a girls only kind of guy and didn’t like Foodge feeling him but lets face who would want to feel a Little Edgy all the time. Hmm.

“What’s with you Foodge?” asks Merv noticing Foodge, looking like he was a Little Edgy, given the few pints or so he had for breakfast and focusing postprandial is never a good time for Merv.

“Well Sandy won’t get out of bed. Now I have to take Nurse Barbara out to the farm, somethings happened” bemoans Foodge.

“I’ll take my bloody self” says Nurse Barbara as she strides into the bar. “Pass me the phone thingy on the counter Merv, I’m ringing Viv and she can come with me. None of you layabouts are any good to me” asserts Barbara.

“It’s Saturday afternoon for Gordon sake, every one will be on the grog or just about to” informs Merv in his laconic rasp.

“Not us nurses mate, never off duty” says Nurse Barbara.

The phone rings out on the farm. Viv’s Husband answers the phone “Hello, Hollow MagpiesHollow here, Viv’s Husband speaking” says Viv’s Husband surprisingly.

“Viv” continues Viv’s husband, as my fingers wish I had thought of shorter name to call him “It’s the telephone, you know with the wires and stuff, like the tin cans with strings, like in the good old days, it’s Nurse Barbara” laments you know who.

“Yes Nurse Barbara” Viv states as she marvels at the technology built into these tales, how quaint  “come over now and pick me up or at worst follow the script. It’s the girls, they’re into this new fad, gravel rock it’s called, No Through Road is the album they just all must have” continues Viv in concern for her two daughters DeeOne and DeeTwo, phew says my fingers.

“What’s the name of the band?” asks Nurse Barbara as she orders a pint at the bar. Bloody smokes, she thinks must give them up one day, next we will know that they’re harmful, can’t have that now can we.

“Boom Crash Opera or Severe Tonsillitis, something like that” says Viv thinking back to the good old days of gramophone records and that dinner music band, hmm, ACDC.

“I’ll be there straight away” says Nurse Barbara downing her pint and butting her fag out.

nev blond walk away survillanceNurse Barbara arrives at the farm and is greeted by Viv along with DeeOne and DeeTwo.

“Now it’s good to see that you girls are alright after that gravel rock, knock, knock, crying sort of stuff, music as you loosely describe it but it can causing bleeding and permanent damage” says Nurse Barbara.

“Oh, look Nurse Barbara” cries Viv, “My husbands toe has just dropped off” as the astonishment builds so much here it’s almost palpable, palpable a nice word used to describe something that barely has a pulse.

“Damn” says Viv’s Husband “was going to work on the lawn but looks like I might have to put up what remains of my feet and watch the cricket, cheery oh” as he strides to the lounge room  via the fridge to get a beer. Now that’s a man.

“See girls” says Nurse Barbara as she shakes her head at the waste of it all

Tacit pause while all players readjust their priorities. Usually happens after an event like this, a debrief so to speak, yes folks, gravel rock can ruin your life unless you have SAVLON(Super Anti Vaccine Lancomycin On NetGel), yes an acronym, finally, you all say.

savlon“No Barb it’s not wasted” says Viv as the typing gets harder “what you need is SAVLON see up and to the left of screen, yeah that will fix any girls desire for gravel rock, or boom crash crying whatever” talks Viv, as seen on TV, “even tipped some in hubby’s port, hasn’t had a drink since”

“But…” interjects Nurse Barbara  as her hit count drops.

“Barb, I’m telling you, this will stop sheep’s guts from going rotten, seen it myself  I did, own two eyes, yep, sheep lived long enough to make it to market, er, um, to, er, be, um….” says Viv

“Sheet Viv, sheet” is all Barbara could muster, eyes widened as the authors BGL levels diminish.

 

 

 

 

 

Nurse Barbara – Are you Serious?

19 Saturday Mar 2016

Posted by in Mark, Vivienne

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Written by Mark. True stories by Vivienne.

If you haven’t read the first part go here

Nurse Barbara Bees Lips Misses Finger

After all this time writing here and elsewhere I have rarely written anything serious or should I say real or factual. This will be different for us both. No pictures but stick with me, I think this is important.

I have recently had some conversations with Vivienne asking if she could provide some snippets about Nurse Barbara, as you know Vivienne and Nurse Barbara are the same person. Vivienne sent half a dozen snippets or so and gave me editorial control of that information to use here at the Arms.

I used humour on some of the ones that had ready to go material in them but the real story is quite different. It shows a multiple skill set application used by someone who lives somewhat isolated. That skill set develops over time and often comes from events. Mainly these events are urgent  however you usually have to do something or you know that something bad is going to happen. So you do something. This needs to be recognised.

Now the dog was bitten on the lip by a bee, Viv’ husband called out to her that the dog didn’t look right and Nurse Barbara better come and attend.  Nurse Barbara removed the sting and applied Beechworth honey to the wound. The dog recovered half an hour later. The name Nurse Barbara has stuck ever since.

The said friend did have his finger saved by Nurse Barbara and the gag about the finger going the wrong way came from Viv or one of her family going to hospital and being asked why they thought their finger was broken to which they replied “well, it’s pointing in the opposite direction for a start…”

All what we would call the nursing process, assess, plan, implement and review.

Now here’s a first, well at the Arms any way. Here’s the next episode of Nurse Barbara but the truth first, Dr HOO’s version will come second. I’m combining these two snippets in to one story but I want you to hear the real ones first, unedited.

 

Road gravel and broken wrist

“Viv’s daughters were riding their bikes one Saturday afternoon. The road was safe, a gravel no through road. It was good as daughter No.2 had just recovered from a severe bout of tonsillitis. A lovely spring day too. Then knock knock and crying could be heard. Viv opened door to the sight of daughter No.1 covered in blood and crying in pain and panic. Daughter No.2 was okay but they were both exhausted. They’d crashed into each other. One hit the gravel badly. Nurse Barbara went into action. Where was the source of the blood. To the bathroom and a lot of gentle washing and picking out of gravel from chin and knees and hands. Then finally – oh dear, broken wrist. Panadol first, then phone off duty doctor. Drive to town. Doc wants an X-ray. Off to hospital –what a bugger. Back to doc who confirms what Nurse Barbara said – broken wrist (really!). Finally back home. The next day hubby cut off his big toe in ride-on mower accident. This time Nurse Barbara called the ambulance. She then hosed the blood off the verandah. Next day she fixed the mower so it automatically cut out the mower when no one on it. Then ensued three months of nursing. The toe did not grow back.”

That’s a busy weekend and when I read it, I could strongly identify with most of the aspects of the work. One of my nursing roles was, you’re it, look after anyone that comes through that door.

The other issue here is outcome. Injury and illness cause consequence. At many stages on our journey through life the truth tells us what those consequences really mean. Humour can but won’t necessarily do all of that for us. Again this requires recognition.

Now I am going to tie all this in with this gem. Excellent work here by Nurse Barbara.

The Mauled Lamb

“Savlon to the rescue. The lamb’s stomach was ripped open. Nurse Barbara – we have to save it says hubby as he pours himself a port. Do something! All I’ve got is Savlon and a sheet. Squeezed whole contents of tube of Savlon into open wound, cuts up sheet, winds it around lamb’s body, put lamb into laundry with a Hessian sack covering whole body. Next day – it was alive and got up and took off to join the other sheep. It recovered – sheet gradually unravelled after a few days. Got top money at market a year later.”

Clever work for certain. Now the Dr HOO version isn’t written yet but it will be soon as the writing bug continues. Nurse Barbara will have to go herself because Sandy won’t want to get out of bed, Gordon is busy watching TV and the Bish is in the den smoking. Can’t wait.

Cheers

Mark

 

 

 

 

Foodge 60.3 bits

15 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

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Earnest Moncrieff, from a previous story but out there somewhere...

Earnest Moncrieff, from a previous story but out there somewhere…

Story by Mark aka Hung

“What’s this, a fucking clip Merv or Drumpf with a haircut?” larfs Angler On, an anagram of Algernon seeing no one got the Earnest Moncrieff connection, the sparrow killing associate of Gib W, who this story isn’t about therefore both Gib and Angler are sure to get many mentions, as you do here at Foodge Inc. Earnest has gracefully retired for Angler, get the picture. Sweet…

“I’m guessing that shirt fitting doesn’t hold the same appeal for you that it once did” says Foodge, seeing I can say “says” here, this is early in the story, plus Angler was smart enough to laugh his comment, even though he then couldn’t spell it, gave me another one of those ad somethings they belted into you at school, I can use them to embellish the conversation. I deliberately forgot all of that stuff from my skool daze just to get even. Now Emmjay has talked me into writing, the bastard, I have to learn to write, pfft, I wished I listened to what my parents said and no, I don’t know what they said because I didn’t listen. Is this Catch 22 or Deja Vu? I digress.

“Pertinent and very Aristotletic. It took a dinkum swagman to tell it like it was. Loved it. He looks like he will be the publican nominee. He’s a modern day Hitler and the followers are hoodwinked dopes.” reflects Gib really worried now that the author assigned him to this statement. Gib didn’t understand most of it just like the rest of us.

“No help then for me and ewe Sister” moans O’Hoo as he searchers his pockets for weapons. Something does, after a while, bulge down there but only a distant memory now days.

“As I’ve said before – well sorted. I did something similar about 12 years ago. I told them their sums were wrong” laments Yvonne as she sips slowly on her Pink Drink, Campari of course, well probably, this is Foodge after all, I mean,  is this chick style, I doubt the drink is metho and Eno’s, surely not but hey. “I have a special 5H enema if you’re ever suffering from ennui again” grins Yvonne, cheshirely.

Nurse Barbara

Nurse Barbara at 3 weeks

“Thanks Sister” says Nurse Barbara dropping in here, out of no where, as you do in Foodge “Needless to say, the custom designed enema is no longer necessary. Now I just need to get my shit together. I thought I’d better print this before it disappeared from screen. Oops, shit, missed it.” Don’t worry about an enema thinks Nurse Barbara, I’ve just read Mark’s story. Bum burner, hot on the way in hot on the way out.

“Now, that’s a worry! ..but then again there are a lot of crazies out there who should be looked after inside white coloured rooms with padding with a really good printers especially any one from the Pigs Arms” replies Yvonne, rolling her eyes and hoping that eye rolling can somehow be classified as a true exercise, me I relate to this, some how or rather, the story is only going to get worse from here on, not better, unless it gets better, I think so, jury’s out mate.

“We don’t need to fly anyone in, Paul. We just send the work overseas via the internet, works for me” says The Other John, a prick from somewhere near somewhere else. Foodge stands erect, well so he told me later, he went to the car-park and retrieved the shot gun from the Zephyr.

By the time he returned Merv had already unloaded two rounds into The Other

Smoochy smoochy, The Other John

Smoochy smoochy, The Other John

John, may Gordon bless us with more of the same. The 457 visa workers had actually already started to remove the body and clear up the mess. 47 cents an hour and they have temerity to complain, bastards.

“And for other selfish arseholes who game the system” retorts Arse Upwards(AU), “No, Angler, the ABC only seems to air the opinion of anuses and Onanists, these days. That’s why all of us here get published heaps” continues AU, Oh, please really think this through. Me, I can’t stop laughing at myself.

Nurse Babara

Nurse Barbara the other version

“This is funny Nurse Barbara. I’m trying to reply to Gorf(Frog in a blender) who replied to you, who replied to Merv, who replied to Hung, who replied to Emmjay who replied to Viv, who replied to Gerard but to no avail. I tried to say “the comment is devoid of compassion for the victims of lactose intolerance etc”. Why the fuck do the moderators don’t like me? Pfft. They favour the fucking heartless monsters! Why!” says fucking someone, bloody hell, name withheld due to a technical issue, I’ve lost control of this story. AI is here.

“That Pink Drink is a special mixture of tinctures and herbs, concocted  by Granny, and safeguarded by Mr Merv. It will put lead in your pencil, that is, if you wanted a lead pencil” says Gib obviously seriously concerned about heavy metals.

“Hallelujah, brother, I’ve been restored to health” states Yvonne seeing “says” has been done enough.

Perhaps, Mark, you could have your own episode of  “Call the Bigwife”

Hmm, thinks Hung eager to get one mention in the story.

Album Review: King Crimson Songbook

07 Monday Mar 2016

Posted by in Bands at the Pig's Arms, Mark

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Crimson Trio Members - Ian Wallace, Jody Nardone, Tim Landers


Crimson Trio Members – Ian Wallace, Jody Nardone, Tim Landers

The King Crimson Songbook by the Crimson Jazz Trio is yet another jazz fusion style of album. The picture on the left I borrowed from Wiki, thank you and the members names are listed in the caption. No animals were harmed in the typing of this story, rest safe.
This is one fantastic album folks, sitting on the porch, gazing at the Milky Way, sipping on some nice wine, watching your cat get flattened and simply sharing time with your partner. Yes, you, sharing time with your partner. It’s  important so sit up and take notice. This is important for many reasons because your partner will know when to shut the fuck up just like you will know when to shut the fuck up. Then and only then you can truly listen to this majestic album.
Now lets just have a quick look at the history behind this band while I eat my pizza. Jalapeno, garlic and shredded beetroot ,basil hmm, my favorite. [Sorry forgot where I was]
Now this band formed from King Crimson that where a a sixties progressive or alternative rock band. Look them up at Wiki here if you are interested,
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Crimson
All good. So Robert Fripp was the main stay throughout Crimson but the jazz trio was put together by Ian Wallace, a former member of Crimson.
Fripp has recorded so much music I wouldn’t have the space to mention it all here, Album cove CJTBrian Eno did a lot of work with Fripp. I find Fripp maybe a bit to Bach for me however I do just love some of his material for example, google the Californian Guitar Trio, brilliant.
When I first heard King Crimson I really didn’t get into them but later I got to like  “Larks Tongue in Aspect” and “Starless in Bible Black“. Both are great albums from the seventies.
Crimson reformed in the early 80’s , and went in a different direction and I strongly recommend these three albums, “Discipline“, “Beat” and “Three of a Perfect Pair“.
Think of it like this, a bit outside the box. Me, I love it.
My favorite tracks is are,
I Talk to the Wind
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5B5CLIOs3HU
then Starless
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JJ9wKJsfEA
then the King Crimson version of Matte Kudsai
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MargcvlZTI
then the Crimson Jazz Trio version of Matte Kudsai
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_ySYUKVfSU
then the whole album
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2zCZRBDOHU
Thank Gordon for music. I hope you will enjoy this. I do.
Cheers
Mark aka  Hung
PS: A volume 2 exists as well I believe however I haven’t heard it yet.

Foodge Nearly 60 – Like the Author

06 Sunday Mar 2016

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark, The Mens

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Hung, off his face after too much Acetic Acid, fish and chips every time...

Hung, off his face after too much Acetic Acid, fish and chips does it every time…

Episode 60 – Story by Mark aka Hung One On

“Bloody hell” says Merv in his usual laconic style, not that Merv understood what laconic actually meant, see he was born laconic, at the Inner Cyberian Hospital, any one born there has to be laconic other wise they are up shit creek without out an outboard, know what I mean. “Hung has done it frigging again, he’s written another fucking episode of Foodge using us, even has an episode number, what is this world coming to.”

“This is true Pigs Arms style we’re none the wiser. This is excellent” says Earnest Moncrieff, the deadly sparrow killer from one of the many other meaningless episodes of Foodge. “Another kayak Merv, and no fly shit this time mate, it upsets me acid” continues Earnest.

“I thought that this episode was really funny, till I read it, then I realised it had a deeper esoteric meaning, I mean line 69 tells you that in one go” says Hung who as usual was propping up the bar trying to remember if the magic mushrooms he had consumed for breakfast were blue meanies or gold tops. Memory wasn’t one of Hung’s assets, lets just say he would be classified as disabled under DSM-V if any one knew what it actually means.

“Please, sir, what’s a kayak of beer?” queries Yvonne, a quiet single lady who regularly sits at the bar sipping her Pink Drinks. Yes, the beautiful, picturesque Yvonne has now been dragged into the story, ever since Hedgie went to jail and all he wants to talk about now is all the anal sex he is getting in jail, Yvonne on the other hand is a much nicer character.

“Kayak refers to a schooner glass 15 ozs in the old money” bores Emmjay, typical scientist, still reckons 1+1=2, dear oh dear, lets face it,  the rest of us know that 1+1 is somewhere between 1.9 and 2.1 but never tell Emmjay that otherwise we will all have to sit through another routine lecture on mathematics he had published in a science journal called the No Idea.

Emmjay continues in his typical monogamous style “In NSW (which didn’t have until recently half pints, but pints (20 ozs) were also used – albeit more rarely). Large glasses are for showing off – more moderate ones are for keeping the beer colder for longer” he lies.

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up” says Merv, forever the diplomat. “Hung’s trying to write another drug story to make us all laugh and all you can do is talk facts. Haven’t you read line 69 yet?” questions Merv which is truly a rare occurrence.

By this time however, Emmjay was in full teacher mode. As if anyone actually cares. Lets face it, this story is pure fiction and facts are basically useless, similar to members of parliament.

“Deivad Eyland wrote a novel in the 1980s called The Non-Crystalline Amorphous Solid Kayak set in a pub called “The Shit Carters Arms” drones Emmjay. “That pub actually exists, unlike the Pigs Arms, on the corner of Anal Rd and the Rectum Highway near Glenda’s House of Pain. But the pub at the heart of the novel was actually “the Toothless” for a couple of factoids. One, if you survived the night at the pub you will probably come home without your teeth and two, it was a dwelling for plasma” says Emmjay.

“Will someone tell this bloke to shut the fuck up” says hph who had just arrived after a bad trip and a train journey on the overnight flyer which really fucked up his drumming, big time.

“In the Toothless Estate on G-Spot Rd” continues Emmjay, much to the disinterest of the Patrons ah la Pork, ”My dad used to drink there – until he moved in 1956 from Long Bay to Silverwater.”

“Has anyone told Emmjay to shut the fuck up?” says Vivienne DeOliveria, a gourmet chef who helped Granny invent her famous Vegemite and Anchovy sauce to serve with potato wedges. “Anyway, when do we get to the good bit?” asks Viv, as only Viv can.

“The novel, The Non-Crystalline Amorphous Solid Kayak, was and remains the inspiration for the Pig’s Arms. You can buy a copy in any decent second hand bookshop” continues Emmjay and lets face it, by the time this story is finished second hand book stores will be too busy selling SFA due to ennui from the general public but on wee go.

“You can get one for sure online, or offline or at a second hand book store if any still exist” says Gib W, who just suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as all purse carrying nancy boys tend to do in this story.

“Gez, now I have to become illiterate?” replies the gorgeous Yvonne. Now we all know that Gez is Gerard Oosterman, genius and multi millionaire who is married to the delightful Helvi, but he doesn’t turn up till the next chapter disguised as a potato. Again on wee go.

“Nah, just semi-literate, like most of the patrons here at the Pigs Arms” interjects Gib W, wanting a bit more air time seeing that Emmjay has dominated the story so far.

“I take offence to that statement, I’m demi-illerate” says Hung as the mushrooms kick in. Hmm, wedges with Vegemite and anchovy sauce, my favorite, as he heads for the Men’s to practice his regurgitation skills.

“Sorry Sister, didn’t mean to offend the demis.” says Gib W reading the script on his laptop. Gib was more worried about offending GILBET(Gay, Intersex, Lesbian, Bisexual, Extraterrestrial and Transgender) folk especially seeing that Hedgie is now batting for the other team.

“Is that like a movie trailer Gib?” pipes in Earnie as he puts the bong along side his half full kayak then skulls the water from the bong instead of the Trotter’s. Fly shit again he he thinks. Pfft.

“Yes, Earnie” says Gib, “You thought a the trailer was big, wait until you see the demi-trailer” asserts Gib. “But has anyone told Emmjay to shut the fuck up lately?” Says Gib.

“So trailers carry containers and trains carry containers so they must be bigger than a trailer or say a finch. The debate could be about trains or for that matter rhododendrons. We’ve had the train one and anyway Hung hasn’t said anything in ages so at least he got the message to shut the fuck up” says Earnie.

“Oh well, that’s sorted.” mentally groans Viv, kind hearted to the bitter end of this story and waiting for line 69 like the rest of us.

“Has your goat had an orgasm lately?” says Kneeville Coal, who is apparently from North Armenia as he orders a kayak of Trotter’s Ale. North fucking where??

“In a fashion” says Emmjay, “such a typical Pig’s Arms explanation” explains Emmjay on line 69.

“Sorry for the delay, Gib” says Emmjay who appears to be struggling with the concept of shut the fuck up. “I’m still re-configuring MF’s dead, but flat, cat, but this looks like a setup. The Pleece are working better than ever now they and have got the challenge of sifting through 13,000 tabs to find the eleventeen I want to take” says an oblivious Emmjay, high on Trotters Ale and Acetic Acid, his favorite trip. “I hope you liked the sly pic. Don’t you just love a dead machine” says Emmjay adding yet another red herring to the story.

“Loved the pic” says Gib, “I imagine it would be easier to rebuild an Ariel Square Four, than resuscitating a dead but flat cat” continues Gib and seeing that no one on the planet will know what an Ariel Square Four is makes him an expert. Remember, an “ex” is something that was and a spurt is “drip under pressure”, so we can all assume that this statement is truly meaningless.

“Probably died of boredom or dare I say ennui. The squaffer was a classic bit of British engineering design genius which was a first for Britain. Lots of poo being impossible to air cool – bad in a cold, moderate, hot, wet, dry, windy, rainy, cloudy or sunny climate. Disastrous in Australia.” hyphens Emmjay.

“My biological father reckoned you could always fukka venal woman cheep after a night at the Toothless. A great kebab on the way home, lots of emesis overnight  then panadol and sick leave the next day, doesn’t get any better than this don’t it.”

Foodge – The Next Step

28 Sunday Feb 2016

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

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The World according to Foodge

The World according to Foodge. Episode Number: Under “On Water Matters” Operational Secret. Written by Mark, well sort of.

Foodge examines his navel, curious as to where it came from, was he really an alien or was it really O’Hoo, he looks like he is from outer space. Anyway,this reads like a “don’t Do loop” nested in another “don’t do loop” a great tale of survival and utter confusion. So for Foodge it did bring back memories of the Willy Willy at Woy Woy. I’m sliding in here thinks Foodge, so wildly ridiculous but he loved good drugs and grog. Like paracetamol and passion pop summer wine, a real avocado.

The Wardsmen are spotty and greasy here, well not like growing up but my younger days and they are nomadic and are not very good at gardening. Who knows what that’s all about, certainly not the authors and in Ward 17 the nurses are purty sweet, with their beards and non shaved underarms, yeah, sweet as.

“Where the fuck are we?” asks O’Hoo in his usual coy manner.

“Dunno, looks like the Crazies ward, lets face mate, you’re in here and you’re crazy” says Foodge.

“Well Foodge old boy, you took the words right out of my mouth except mine were more along lines of who knows” says O’Hoo

“But I haven’t said anything, you know, it’s all that sound over work like on General Hospital. I think the words and the sound over man comes out the speakers, it’s called a script or something” informs Foodge.

Sure thing mate, just relax fella, thinks O’Hoo Now if one could believe a true lie here, O’Hoo’s good ideas are ecliptic or even epileptic, something like that.

“Anyhoo I’d say all the more delicious we’ve read of all the episodes and still don’t know but it’s a story with a bit of a flutter in it.” laments Foodge. As only Foodge can like the day he first met the gorgeous Paris Brown, long legs, blonde and yep you now.

“If I was you, I’d hesitate to join them.” says O’Hoo “ I think we are re-creating the 70s in fact they are forking awful but they still seem to be able to rake it in” as the story flows like defying gravity.

Foodge lets out a deep scythe but it is O’Hoo that always has such lovely sweet thoughts.

“How about a cuppla lemonades” laughed O’Hoo and for that matter Foodge, so much in fact they nearly shat themselves or some how euthanasied themselves, something like that.

“I was thinking they should bring back Hunter Old Ale.” reflected Foodge back to the good old days when beer was beer. That was all ya drunk he reminisces. Poor old Foodge seems to have forgotten that beer was the only drink you could get, hmm.

“There was Tooheys Old and Tooheys Hunter Old. I think they were the same thing though the Hunter Old was brewed in Newcastle. You could drink a skinful of the stuff and never wake up with a hangover. It was nectar when I was growing up.” says O’Hoo

“Bullshit mate, how can anyone not get a hangover after a skin full of beer, un bloody believable you are O’Hoo” cries Foodge.

“As someone who knows beer I can tell you a thing or two young fella, my middle names Beer and the first is More, More Beer everyone, cheers” says the stranger behind us only to reveal himself as Emmjay. Roars of laughter all round but then seriousness descends.

“What are we going to do next?” asks Emmjay.

“Fucked if I know” says O’Hoo “Yous?”

“Nah, me neither” reply Foodge and Emmjay in unison.

“Actually” remarks O’Hoo with rare insight into a world where he is all ones and zeroes “ not even fuck actually knows”.