For reasons too complicated to go into here, I flew in and out of Birmingham and yesterday coming back it was almost deserted which was such an unexpected joy after the usual horrors of Gatwick or Thiefrow.
Some of you may be surprised that I did not take advantage of this heart-warming offer from the Yates's bar, but where is the indefinite article? It's Breakfast and a Pint.
God help us.
14 comments:
Ahh...Yates's Aussie White, have seen many a poor, Liverpudlian wino rat-faced on that.
I have relatives in Totnes, what part of Devon did you visit?
Tavistock, Plymouth (birthplace), Torquay, Newton Abbot and Starcross. Aeons ago I went out with a chemist's daughter from Totnes. Luckily for her I dumped her before I turned her into a credit-card abusing, gambling, drug-crazed, lying, drunken slattern which was the usual course of things.
You drove her to that? Or was it because she was from Totnes?
No, VG, he dumped her before she turned into those things. It was the others, who presumably didn't come from Totnes, who got turned into slatterns - if I read Mr Comcbo's words aright. (Wonderful word, slattern. Comes from an old verb slatter, to spill or slop, apparently. A slattern: one who must be kept away from a pint or a bottle of wine at all costs.)
The gal just behind the ad has clearly gone for the bkast/pint supersize offer.
Hmmm. I can stand you calling it Devonshire (just), I don't care about Breakfast and (a) pint one way or t'other, But NO TRADITIONAL English breakfast has`ever EVER had baked beans on the plate. Kidneys, yes; bubble and squeak, yes; fried bread, yes; even liver, yes. But baked beans - no. This was a Marketing Man's invention in the early 80's.
(Oh, and the girl behind the sign may well be one of The Undead....)
Fish and a chip?
Wilko: spot on, nice word eh? I've always liked slattern. Right up my street, as it were.
NGB: looks like she went for a pint of gin actually
Affer: it's always Devonshire for me because I'm old enough to remember that that was what it was. With you 'though on the baked beans.
Thud: Fish and chips?
Just so depressing - the airport, the beanz, the luke warm egg, the filthy beer, the 16oz coke, the bored girl, the dribbling grammer, the thought that some poor bastard paid his £8.00 (desperate idiot). What is the world coming to. What ever happened to standing around in a gaberdine mac, trilby and pipe on a misty wind-swept morning at Crawley Aerodrome waiting for the Constelation to get gassed up - a shake of the thermos to see if there's a cup left whilst withdrawing the greese-proof wrapped spam sandwich from a pocket - "BOAC flight 243 to Acapulco is delayed whilst the Captain has a swift one for the road ......."
Astute as ever Diplo. Try the Lands End to St Mary's. Still a bit like that, but a shorter flight.
Captain: 'Anyone for coffee? You'll find my flask rolling about under the seat'.
Only surprised there wasn't a stripper in the mix. Some of us remember that boozer on the corner of Leicester Market that advertised a 'Pint, Pie & A Stripper: £2.00'. Class.
Fred.Can I use your name as a 'Nom de Plume' for my new book?
Lord Roby; good morning. Whilst enormously flattered I'm afraid I must decline your request to adopt my name. I did a deal with Clear Channel some time ago; I am to be turned into a musical, film and book (in that order, apparently), with the goal of becoming a global merchandising phenomenon.
For a modest fee I would be happy to come up with some other names that may suit; let me know.
Yours aye,
Fred
Oh dear, your observations as usual hit the nail right on the head. I can only add another warning - should you find yourself in some culinary desert that is an English town centre (of the buggered-up variety) and you require breakfast and it's early and it contains a branch of Subway...go hungry! until you espy a greasy spoon. The aforementioned chain (the largest purveyors of fast food in the world I believe) offers what is described as breakfast - it's breakfast, Ron, but not as we know it.
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