Tuesday, 16 August 2016

How to take tablets painlessly...



Like many ladies and late middle-aged chaps, Mrs O'Blene (may her tribe increase - but only after careful consultation), takes a few tablets for things that Scrobbers and their ilk have to deal with in 'later' life, and one capsule  in particular seems to stick unmercifully in her throat, and causes some disruption to the daily record, and also some extremely bad language, and also the occasional shriek, which frightens both JRT and also my good self, as about then I am just waking up, and in need of a non-alcoholic tincture, such as a mug of Assam, and a look out of the window in a daze..


On mentioning this to our favourite, lovely (gorgeous) chemist in the village, she said ,why not try to take the capsule by sucking on a straw with some water? Pop the capsule into your mouth, take a suck on the straw and swallow, and the little beast is gone! They apparently advise all parents to do this for children with the same situation, and by George, it really works!

Even I shot down a capsule in seconds, without feeling a thing, and I can gag at the slightest need for air (except perhaps for a fine whisky, or maybe a 'Screwdriver' with real orange juice)!

Marvellous result, and thank you lovely M.... (the lovely chemist) for suggesting it!

(She can suggest anything she likes, and if Mrs O'Blene isn't listening, I'd even take notes for a later occasion..;0)

Saturday, 13 August 2016

Irish yarn...

IF YOU MARRY AN IRISH GIRL
 
The first man married a woman from Italy. He told her that she was to do the dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple of days but on the third, he came home to see a clean house and the dishes put away.
 
The second man married a woman from Poland. He gave his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes and cooking. The first day he didn’t see any results but the next day it was better. By the third day he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done and there was a huge dinner on the table.
 
The third man married a girl from Ireland. He ordered her to keep the house clean, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry done and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn’t see anything, the second day he didn’t see anything but by the third day, some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye and his arm was healed enough that he could make himself a sandwich and load the dishwasher. He still has some difficulty when he goes for a widdle.

Tuesday, 2 August 2016

Some like it rather like Mrs O'Blene...


Mrs Scroblene (aka Ma'am O'Blene) and your old chum, Scrobs, aka 'Scrobs' or whatever, have just been seriously discussing a certain subject, which will enrage Grauniad, and other silly readers everywhere.

We're in our late sixties, and are hardly likely to commence a barnstorm for 'lefties' everywhere, but it has been a revelation for us both, as we decided to buy 'Some like it hot', to watch when the evenings draw in.

Mrs O'Blene, as fragrant as ever, just said that the final comment on the iconic film, from Osgood, saying 'Nobody's perfect', was a gay comment...

And we both agreed that we didn't have a cat in hell's chance of realising that back then...

I went to see the film in London when it came out, and remember asking two people in front of me, if they'd mind shifting sideways, as they were large (fat), and I couldn't see the screen, as most cinemas in town were pretty lousy anyway, and the seating arrangements were dire.

Anyway, for four and a half notes, plus PandP, Mrs O'Blene and I will be able to watch the whole film, in the comfort of our own tinctures, come our  44 anniversary years (October), and if anyone has any other flicks to suggest, we only need another tincture to consider them!

Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Small type...

As we're clearly 'of a certain age', the fragrant Mrs O'Blene and I regularly get those confounded leaflets for items like stair lifts (good idea, but not yet), and all things to do with how to spend our huge pension pots, or asking for money for some cheridee or something! We also apparently need solar panels, which are a fashion accessory we hadn't really considered of late, and also we're told how Tunbridge Wells approaches 'diversidee', which is also an anathema, as we didn't realise that our home town - or near miss -, actually had any reason to be diverse any more!

But the latest one intrigues me, and as it's for a big UK name, and one I ought to warn you about it.

It's for English Heritage, and they want more than fifty notes to join. The leaflet quite rightly defines the richness of our country, and how there are hundreds of different venues to visit.

But there's one snag, and I wonder if either of you can spot the problem...?


Yup!

Each 'venue' is printed in such small letters that you need a microscope to see them!

Someone, somewhere, in the dripping nauseous cellars where all National Heritage workers are bolted to the wall, may well wonder why there are no takers, as people like the O'Blenes can't actually read their blurb because the old glasses are not capable of squinting at such a small print!

I blame Brexit of course, and probably, so does the BBC and the Gud Rhianna and also, oh what, any other silly rag or prog where nobody understands late-middle aged normal people..;0)

I wouldn't actually know, of course, as I don't listen to or read either or any of them!



Tuesday, 19 July 2016

Why aye mun...

I'm 69 today, and Mrs Scroblene has bought me an electric bicycle!

We popped over to Woodchurch this morning and sealed the deal very easily - really nice guy; knows what he's talking about; we have a mutual chum anyway - and I went around all the lanes near here, without a care in the world!

Then I met my doctor with his wife, and was told that helmets were required...

Great day anyway, beers at a local hostelry, Mrs Scroblene looking sublime...

What else is there in this life, eh?


Thursday, 14 July 2016

Good day for Scrobs...

Although I'm not really a political animal with the skills of Raedwald or Guido, I do like to feel good when I think things may well get better when certain politicians hit the headlines.

I actually wanted Andrea Leadsom as a leader, and heard that on the Brexit night, she'd been coached to kingdom-come on what to say, but now she is in a damn good job, so then all's well with Scrobs!

Whether it is about 'kitten shoes', or whatever, with Mrs May, we have a chance now to kick the corrupt, weedy, whining, pathetic kinnockian-style tribe into touch, and really motor on.

I'm 69 next week. I never thought I'd have an ear to one or two people outside my village, but at least my knowledge of the real world can at least be laughed-at; agreed with, forgotten, and nobody really can do anything to stop that!

Also, the best news today is this!

The decision to scrap the separate Department for Energy and Climate Change (DECC) angered opposition MPs.

What a way to go!

Wednesday, 6 July 2016

Apt oink pic...



Is it a bank?

Is it a gummint cabinet?

Is it summat from Brussels?

Is it a multi-national?

Is it a lawyer?


All for the 'chop' hopefully one day!




(h/t TQWT on Guido)