Comments on: Friday is Fucking off to Manchester

By: adam

adam — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 22:41:16 +0000

It was another Uncle who had the budgie. Fred. We inherited it when he died.

And my Grandprents’ rule was ‘Women in the kitchen, men down the Working Men’s Club’. I was a boy and therefore an honourary man and spent many a long sunday noontide drinking coke and staring longingly at the snooker table.

By: Tart

Tart — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 01:50:04 +0000

ah, even we philistines had tea with cups and saucers (no idea why, my great (times x) grandparents who came from over there were dead and gone for more than 100 years before I came along.

and homemade bread, or rolls. always. and dare i say pickles without you all going off on another chutney trail? but yes homemade pickles of all sorts.

but most of this is all misted over by the stronger memory of the #1 cardinal rule in my grandparents house: women in the kitchen and men in the front room, no matter the time of day. my gran was born in 1901 afterall.

By: Matthew

Matthew — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 00:24:35 +0000

Bread and butter and cups and saucers! Yup, nail on head.

They even had a budgie for a while.

By: Drunk Country

Drunk Country — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:56:23 +0000

Also tea serve in cups and saucers, and bread and butter on the side of every meal.

Oh, yes. On the nail.

My father’s mother always. No, start again. ALWAYS fucking made tinned salmon sandwiches when we went to visit. I fucking hated fish & I fucking absolutely hated tinned salmon sanfucknigwiches. No matter how much she was told she always thought I LOVED them. Even when I became a vegetarian & she was politely told I no longer ate meat or fish. Her response? “He’ll be alright with this, it’s from a tin…”. Mad old bat.

My father’s brother, Ken, who looked like a Ken (massive ginger beard & ’70s mullet to boot) will always stick in my mind for this: one summer, like every summer, we had a day at my gran’s where we all ate in the garden. As she often did she brought her bird cage out with her canary in it. This day, however, my uncle Ken opened the bird cage door & after about 20mins of staring at this sudden portal into the unknown the canary leapt onto the door frame then flew off. My uncle gave it two gardens worth of freedom before plugging it with his air rifle. Apparently it was very old, getting very sick, & the decision was made to give it a happy memory before ‘humanely’ killing it in front of the kids.

Cheers, Adam. You brought back a damburst of memories there.

By: Matthew

Matthew — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:14:34 +0000

Ben, like myself, only enters teh internetz with the approval of his wench. However, it appears that his wench likes him far more than does mine, as Mrs Toad seems positively grateful for the fact that the Internet keeps me out of her hair most of the time.

By: adam

adam — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 22:13:57 +0000

1. Records. My mum’s two youngest brothers still lived ‘at home’ with my grandparents when I was growing up and one of those was a club DJ who had hundreds and hundreds of interesting things to listen to – I used to sit in the corner and listen to stuff on huge black headphones whilst everyone else was watching the snooker. Also tea serve in cups and saucers, and bread and butter on the side of every meal.
2. ‘The Ship Song’ by Nick Cave, as something of symbol for quite a number of songs which I have simply ‘lost’ because of the connotations they’ve took on for me after everything turned into a pile of poo the other year. (It’s better now but I’ve still lost lots of songs).
3. ‘I Just Can’t Stop’ by The Beat, in about 1984. It was a very long time ago and I can see how trivial it might seem now but it was an astonishingly shit time at the time, and the strange anger and nastiness of lots of songs by The Beat were just the very thing.
4. UEA, Norwich. Had a lovely time. Was meant to spend a year at Louisiana State at Baton Rouge but was making so little academic effort that they wouldn’t let me go. I stayed in Norwich for about six years after graduating, it was a good place to live.
5. I don’t think I’ve ever introduced a friend to any of my grandparents – one died in 1958, ten years before I was born, one in the early 70s, one in the early 80s, one still going strong. Actually my nan asked me ‘whatever happened to that Gabriel’ the last time I saw her so I guess she met him. Even a Quaker school expelled him.

I quite like marzipan in small quantities although I’m not so fond of hitler.

By: Tart

Tart — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 21:31:27 +0000

Ben, do they only let you out for weekends? I’ve missed you, sweetie xx

By: Tart

Tart — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 21:18:28 +0000

dangit, i was hoping to slide that one under the radar! … rodney crowell eh? must google

By: Chris

Chris — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 18:34:53 +0000

hey tart – there is a song by rodney crowell called ’sex and gasoline’ – you’re not the only one.

“New School for Social Research, NYC” – ah, that explains the pinko take you have on things.

By: Chris

Chris — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 18:28:31 +0000

ok, scared me for a sec., thought you somehow knew my life…

im amerikkkan, not englesh, so not sure what rainbow is. and englesh humor is so strange to us frat boy amerikkkans.