Sounds like…

Posted on December 22, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

Now I love the English language, and I feel really sorry for any Johnny Foreigner who’s trying to learn it. There are such subtle nuances in pronunciation and spelling and so many things you can do to manipulate it. I mean, you can pepper food with salt, ponder whether Jonah did in fact have a whale of a time, consider that a good way of making the Vatican smell nice might be to spread a good bit of pot-pourri: go on, say it out loud quick!

Here are just some of many questions that may or not require answers:-

If the Prince of Wales had his name embossed on an item of underwear, would you have an Heir On A G-string’? Pardon? No, ‘Basque In The Sun’ does NOT work
Are Girls Allowed to sing?
If nobody knows about it, how would you be able to hear a Secret Policeman’s Bawl?
Should I feel privileged to have been able to listen as a child to Billy Cotton’s Banned Show?
Should a large baby be given a Wide Birth?
Should young swans become members of a Cygnet Ring?
Would a hymn dedicated to Wyatt Earp’s famous battle be called ‘Gunfight At The OK Chorale’?
Could pigeons topple a government by means of a Coo d’Etat?
To Maid Marian, was Robin Hood simply a ‘Beau And Arrow’?
Should Gorilla Warfare even appear on this list?

Finally, if you support Liverpool but are a little lax in the personal hygiene department, you know what they’ll chant at you? “You Never Wore Cologne”.

Buy for now!

Stars in my eyes

Posted on December 22, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

The following are extracts from a spoof “Your Stars This Month” feature which I did a few years ago for our pub newsletter as resident astrologer Horace Cope, all with the devilishly cunning intention of inducing people to visit the pub (which we used to own, actually) as often as possible. More of the same some other time perhaps.

TAURUS (20 Apr – 20 May)
Why Taureans should insist on staying at home watching TV and doing household chores when there is a risk of their ceiling joists collapsing on top of them is beyond me. It is far safer to be at the pub where the only event likely to weaken the ceiling is Matt leaving the bath taps on in the flat on Quiz Night. Take out that well-stocked wallet and get down there post-haste. You know it makes sense.
Lucky Sign: Plus Lucky Ladybug: The Four Seasons

GEMINI (21 May – 21 June)
The sign of the Twins is very appropriate at the moment, as unusually virulent sun-spot activity will enable all of you born under this sign to “twin” with the pub, requiring many more than the usual number of visits to that friendly establishment. However, if you do not manage to remain seated at the table near the fireplace for thirteen and a half minutes without being evicted by the dominoes players, your body will be covered in unsightly warts for six weeks. If it is covered in unsightly warts already, then you needn’t worry about sitting somewhere else.
Lucky Film: 35mm Lucky Book: Deuteronomy

CANCER (22 June – 22 July)
Most Cancerians will inexplicably suffer from a mild form of frostbite at some point during the next couple of months, possibly caused by falling asleep with their feet in the freezer. All I can suggest is that they quickly make their way to the pub (not hot-foot, obviously), spend a few quid, take off their socks or tights – oh, or stockings (come on, Dave, be a man!) – lie down and wave their feet around in the kitchen when the oven and all the deep-fat fryers are turned on.
Lucky stone: 14 pounds Lucky Jim: Morrison

LEO (23 July – 22 Aug)
You will win a big prize in the National Lottery next Wednesday week but, to precipitate this, you will have to go to the pub every Saturday night, take a table and four chairs, put them right where the regulars are dancing and sit down, preferably with your arms folded defiantly. The more defiant the pose you strike, the more money you will win. Good luck!
Lucky Dip: Cheese and chive Lucky Day: Doris

VIRGO (23 Aug – 22 Sept)
Daily visits to the pub during the fortnight after you read this are clearly indicated in the stars for all you Virgoans because you could contract a particularly virulent infection of the intestinal variety if you do not heed this advice. It will attack without warning, so you should keep on your toes throughout the period indicated. If I were you, I would point them in the direction of the pub and move them very quickly forwards.
Lucky Room: Toilet Lucky Paper: Toilet

LIBRA (23 Sept – 23 Oct)
Listen very carefully to the local BBC radio station over the next ten days between 6pm and 8pm; when you hear your name mentioned – and I can assure you it will happen – rush to the pub and claim two free drinks. You will have 15 minutes to get there so, don’t forget, keep listening! The only restriction on this staggeringly attractive promotional offer is that you must subsequently buy five more drinks (plus one for the landlord)
Lucky Ear: Left Lucky Channel: English

SAGITTARIUS (22 Nov – 21 Dec)
The arrows of Sagittarius fly true to their target this month and, unfortunately, you will be shot in the leg with one. Every cloud has a silver lining, though, because the injury will not be serious and you will be quickly patched up and signed off for five weeks with an explicit instruction to be wheeled regularly to the pub for repeated doses of the healing liquid of your choice.
Lucky Archer: Grace Lucky Bow: Cross

Making the connection

Posted on December 22, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

You may remember reading about the rivetingly interesting car number plate game which I invented. Well, the other day, I recalled reading in a book once about another game (not invented by me this time) which I cannot remember the name of just at the moment, where one person says a word and the other person has to say a word with absolutely no connection with the first person’s word. Now you may think that sounds quite boring, but the fun part of the game is the challenge! The challenge, that is, of the first person who must maintain that there actually is a connection and proceeds to describe the thought processes involved in linking the first and second words with, of course, hilarious consequences. Hopefully.

For example, the first person might say “Camilla”. Now, clearly, the second person could not say “horse’s bottom”, for example, but he (or she) could say “Tiger”, fondly imagining that the first person would certainly fail in the attempt to establish any kind of link between the two. The first person, however, is probably made of sterner stuff and, although possibly stumped momentarily, would undoubtedly respond in magnificent fashion by revealing the following intricate mental itinerary not envisioned by the second person: Camilla – Parker Bowles – Bowls – Woods – Tiger. Get the idea? Oh, please yourselves; you can’t help some folk.