May 5th 2011 Knock knock. Who’s there?
Knock knock. Who’s there? American special forces. American special forces who? American special forces who…who have managed to carry out an operation without cocking it up for once!
Another leap into the 21st century has occurred in The FitzGerald family household, I have ordered an iphone! Sounds marvellous, what is an iphone? Apparently the technology has been around for some time with such things as ipads, ipods and even ipatches. I think Nelson had an ipatch, but how the hell did he charge it on Victory? I have been round the ship and there
is not a single three pin plug anywhere. I saw a cat-o-nine tails….which I guess must be an ilash! Hey hey…boom tish…still available for pantomime.
Worked with the charming Peter Alliss this week at an after dinner speech at Churston Golf Club and he was truly a gentleman and very entertaining. The enemy, the good lady wife, couldn’t attend the event which was probably just as well. When she heard that I was meeting him she said…
‘Oh I have always liked him. He is the last of the original cast, isn’t he?’
‘Cast of what?,’ I replied.
‘Last of the Summer Wine!’
Not a great follower of golf or Wallace and Gromit!
April 29th has passed with due pomp and circumstance. A date which will always stick with me, Gus Honeybun was 50! I
spent seven years with the world’s most famous rabbit. He now lives in semi retirement at Flambards in Cornwall, never writes or phones. I will always remember an incident at Navy Days when a charming young lady of about six entered the Gus Honeybun Magic Grotto. I told her that if she could tell Gus a joke and make him laugh, I would give her a Gus Honeybun badge. Outside watching on the television screens was her proud father, a member of the Naval Provost. Six foot four and built like brick wotnot, the sort of chap who could lift a tank but couldn’t spell it.
‘Why did the pervert cross the road?’ was her sudden outburst!
Oh! One of daddy’s jokes, who was now running through the crowd, slinging people out of the way. Earlier that afternoon I had met the Pusser’s Rum rep, so I was feeling no pain and without thinking or remembering I was on television replied…
‘Why did the pervert cross the road?’
‘He had his dick stuck up the chicken,’ was her answer.
The last thing I saw was an enormous arm with an HMS Eagle tattoo on it, grabbing her and whisking her off into the crowd. She never a got badge!
