baldi, baldi, give us our bicuits, baldi

LOL!
This lot like bikkies too Twinkle but they are kind to leave me and you the Garys!!
Tea anyone? I have, er, Chocolate Malted Milks as well?
Spiffing!

Swinga"wooden"leg, Twinkle always has the GarethBaldOnes upon her person!!
Ha harr!!

'Tis true, I have been known to secrete many a bourbon beneath my frilly pantaloons.....though the crumbs can be somewhat problematic!

Avast there Twinkle! 'ee never said 'ee's been secretin' boooooourbons - ha harr!! Tis only known that gary's are about ye pantaloons!! Ee kept that quiet, and no mistake!!!

You haven't seen my pantaloons....I could get Tesco biscuit aisle down there..on a good day

Arrr, well twinkle, thee may be useful if our sail gets ripped, arrrrr !!

Ahhh Swing, if Twinkle keeps eatin them thar ship's biscuits they'll be the more than the sound of ripping sheets, believe me ha harrrrrrr!!
Er, argghhhhhhhh! I mean!!

You are welcome to avail thyself of my ameneties sir, though methinks maisymoo would be useful should we become becalmed.

LOL!!
Methinks Twinkle does refer to my er, recycling capabilities with cabbages, eggs and beans ha harrrrrrrrr!!
Tis an ill wind.....

for grim & maisy ( see other thread )

Keelhaulin back up with the Ballad of Black Hearted Stout


I like to stare at Anu bare
When in the bath she's lying

I like to be where I can see
Steph drop her jeans, I'm spying

When Nush bends o'er
I look round the door
To get myself a sighty

Tania before bed
she turns my head
In her little see-through nightie

Justine's big and Sissy's small
I know 'cos i sit on the wall
When they're in the pool swimmin'

With my roving eye
I play I-Spy
And watch the BB women

arrrrr... t'aint nothin like a rousin' shanty to get an old sea dog a swingin'
time to break out the rum, me hearties..

Har ah I sees we has set sail again on the Jolly Mes after a spell in dry dock for a refit ha harrrr!!
Is that Iain lashed to the mains'l?

And so The Jolly Mes sailed through some very choppy waters nearby full o' battling pirates ha harrr which somehow survived being scuppered by the Goodship Moderator which sailethed past and left alone all the feudin' mariners not unlike the Flying Dutchman of maritime legend...ha harrr- tis strange the ways of the sea me hearties....

The Captain of the Mes shouts;
"'Way Anchor!" avoiding the usual retorts of "fifteen stone 10 pounds" or thereabouts.
"Har ha, tis good to see the Goodship Moderator a-doin' the rounds, maybes got lost as she did in that terrible sea-fret ha harrrrrr! Now me hearties, anyone mentions keelhaulin' I'll clap 'ee in irons and send him to spend the rest of ee's days with Seaman Cameron, down in the bilges or worse still, Endemall..

..but ALAS!! The Mes once more was blown into the Sargasso, and becalmed and once more assailed and once again they looked to the horizon for salvation but still the Goodship Moderator twas not seen and so they drifted on, but had not given up hart, er heart I mean...

..and LO!! Like Jason looking to the gods the hart of the matter, er, heart of the matter, was once more resolved, the sails of the Mes filled again with the cool fresh air of the stout (er, wrong word) of the redoubtable DS crew as they sailed once more across the calmer seas back to happier climes of under-boat-rope-management and rotund-highland-island charlatan chicanery... and LO, they were a happy crew once more...

....The Jolly Mes steers it's happy course into calmer waters and once more the harmonious cacophony of sated babble fills the air, the sound of Grimfandango's strangled guitar lilts colour the atmosphere again...ah, breathe it in...

Arrr...what's this...sez I...Time for a keehauling.....I see Seaman Jade has lost weight....Her balast is no longer needed....Fetch me the rope, she needs to meet me barnacled bottom...arrr haaaa

Disaster! I've bust a string on my guitar and have no spare, what can I use as a replacement.

a. A shoelace
b. Next doors car aerial which in an emergency makes an excellent coathanger when bent to the right shape
or c. *chucks cameron overboard* shall I use cameron's ego, it seems to be already nicely stretched so it might work.

I don't want to have to get my trumpet out otherwise you will all want to keelhaul yourselves.

..the sound of unfettered laughing and ribald guffawing lifts the hearts and souls of the beleaguered Mes crew, assailed as they were by tales of daring do, of shed blubber( Jade) and barnacled bottoms (Jade again?) of Grim's G-string (let's not go there!) but AVAST!! Ha harr, tis Ego overboard!! (Was that YOU chucking Cam over the gunwales Grim??) Only Captain Tickle of "The Controversial" can help but such is the apathetic insouciant indifference caused by the Endemall Sea it may be a-hard a-raising the old sea-dog to bring back a-reckoning that is Big Bloater 5, the return of the original conception...

...The Jolly Mes sailed on, through the Sea of Outrageous Speculation, past the Lagoons of Litigious Nonsense and once more found itself marooned in the Bay of Bemused Banter.
“Ha Harr” said the Captain. Christ he was inventive. The crew as one, turned. Well, blame the cold, they were all huddled together.
“Captain, can we have a word?” signalled the crew, lapsing as they might into maritime flag-signalling, or what we might call, “showing off”.
“And what word would it be ha harr??”
The crew as one groaned, but I don’t think they could blame the weather for that.
“Look, about all this...” but the Captain interjected:
“That be more than one word methinks ha harr..”
Inevitable really. Deserved too. Had to happen. The crew, again as one (I blame the small cabins) all drew their weapons, and to a man (and Seaman Lisa) stuck their pistols (oo er) to the Captain’s worried countenance..
“We be sick, nay, right cheesed off regardeth all this ere “Ha Harr” shi.. er, nonsense, ha harr. Oh bums! Now WE’re at it!!...”
But suddenly, from the tallest of the masts, yes, that big one in the middle, a voice can be plainly heard...a cry rings out, as cries do, the crew and Captain are frozen mid-rant, the sea settles, the wind dies, (well that clears the air a bit!), and the strident tones of a Geordie BB announcer can be plainly heard....

"DAY TWO in the unending non provable dispute and already the temperature is rising again as handbags are drawn and house bricks inserted. Captain Mes is languishing by the pool as Navigator Grim strums that infernal instrument again..
"Grim, can you put that down for a moment?"
“What about the guitar Captain?"
"That too" The Captain sighs. It had been a tough assignment already but this was getting silly. He’s heard it all before, but preferred the video version where at least he could “work the menus” and not get repeatedly returned to the start again.
The crew laugh, but nervously. After all, it's not often they'd been subjected to two days of witnessing virtual trolling on the trot...or the high seas..
The Captain shifts his stance, and eyes the crew savagely. Gets like that, away at sea, nothing but the wind tossed tempests, and the sea’s dog rough as well. Undaunted, and spitting playfully, the Captain despairingly calls for his only hope.
Yes, Captain Tickle!! (Ha harrrr!)

Captain Tickle strides aboard the stricken hulk, and just for a laugh, gets onboard the Mes as well. The snazzy sea-going off the shoulder organza officers’ dressing gown uniform he effortlessly sports dazzles the assembled gaping multitude, - bloody plebs. Straightening his tricorn with a barely perceived flick of a well trained tomato-pairing finger the Tickle commands the scene, there is hush abroad, and closer to home too..The seagulls stop talking, the rats put their cards down, the weevils look out from an ageing pile of Garibaldi biscuits with a twinkle in their eyes (bless ‘em) and a passing cormorant settles on the forecastle, only because it was totally knackered after a night flight from Idle. The ice sculpture melts, the on-board band (Grim) stops and Captain Tickle turns to look at the bedraggled and deeply repellent form of Seaman Camoron being hauled to the top deck...

Captain Tickle "So Camoron.."
"Just a minute, how do we know that IS Camoron?"
Captain Tickle turns the rheostat down on his on-board portable sea-going toaster. Frank Whitlle would have been proud.
"Who said that?" the outraged Captain enquired.
The crew were silent. To a man. That includes Lisa.
"Well, I'm waiting!"
"Could be anyone that.." a voice from behind the rum rations imparts. The Captain considers...looks at the parrot, the parrot sighs, bites him, craps down his back and considers a career in International Fish Trading, where, he understands, there's far less controversy.
With that, the Mes sails on, the Captian, crew, the parrot, weevils, rats and passing cormorant none the wiser.




Rat one: "Had 'em going there for a while eh?"
Rat two: "Seen it all before. It's your round isn't it?"