This 'un's when Oi got the 'ump abewt the flippin' hotrod banger-racin' bunch over Foxhall Staydium one evenin' - noisy gits!...
Caw, them blimmin' 'ot rods get lowder an' lowder, dun't ey? Sat sittin' 'ere tryin' ter watch the gogglebox, when up jumps Pogo (me mutt) and 'e start yammerin' fit ter bust, coz the wind's blowin' our way, an' them rowdy round-racerists are at it agen! Blimmin' rackit! Is it a rool that they in't allowed exzorst silencys? Dread ter think wot it's loik in the arena, never moind 'arf a mile frum it 'ere. Coodn't stop poor li'l Pogo's yappin' fer ages, poor li'l feller.
Come on, yer noizy oiks - stuff sum socks or brillos in the toobs, for peace's sake! It 'int roight...!
Trubble is, the rest uf us suffer fer ages parst race day, coz our mate Bernie Tupp's a keen fan 'oo goes ter the meets, gets totally deffened, then yells 'is 'ead orft fer the nex' few days cuz 'e thinx evry'un else's Mutt & Jeff as well. 'E never thinx ter take earole muffs, gets ringin' in 'is ears (fire alarm bells, we reck'n!) an' 'e c'n bellow fer England, Oi can tell yer.
'E used ter go watch the Ipswich Tracter Boyz, so e's 'ad lots o' yellin' practiss, an' 'e's got a strong pair o' lungs, that 'un ...which wuz very 'andy a whoile back, as it turned owt.
Y'see, Bernie used ter be a fireman, an' 'e wuz the unsung 'ero when the Farm'ouse Pub in Grainge Farrrm caught foire a few munfths agew. 'E dashed in, and ter evry'un's amazement, sucked all the smoke into 'is chest, ran outsoide and blew it all away. Not a single koff.
Folks said "'Blimey! Ow'd yer do that, matey?", an' e said, quoit modest, loike "Easy - Oi'm an ex-Tractor fan..."
G'nite!
(Oi 'ope they've sorted ewt the Farm'ouse - ain't been in fer ages, 'ave ter drop by fer a foo tipples, eh?)
Friday 10 December 2010
7: Doctor No, Oi Reckons...
This un came abewt arfter me lassie got short shrift frum the local Docs practiss when she rang up, suffrin' chesty pains an' palpimitations an' stuff -an' they'd bin boastin' in the lewcal rag abewt their new improvicated tellybone sysstem; yer, sure...
'Allo all - y'oroight? Oi'm oroight, too - an' tha's juss as well, in't it, eh? Oi mean, yer carn't get inter the docs fer an appointyment ter save yer loife, eh? An' Oi mean that quoite literal, loike...
Take moi poor step-dorghter-in-law - there she were, 'avin' a roight rum year wot wiv losin' 'er lad an' puttin' up wiv lots ov aggaravashun frum all sorts o' places, still gettin' on wiv all 'er chores an' stuff a foo weeks agew, an' not susprisin', she gets a roight whammer ov a chest pain - an' not fer the first toime, oither (she usuarlly juss don't utter a mutter - juss carries on, loike) - only this toime it were bad enuff ter worry 'er, an' she gets on the jellybone ter the doc fer an urgent appointyment.
The ol' gel on t'other end o' the loine says she can't 'elp, coz there's no toimes left...but 'ad me lass rung in a cupple ov 'ours earlier, they could'a squeezered 'er in! Lass on fone sez, "Go ter A an' E at the 'ostiple, if yer that worried" - an' wot sort o' hattitude is that? Moi lass juss wanted a bit o' checkover, not a hambuliance an' all that palaverication whoile 'er 'ubby's over t'other soide o' Norfik workin' up a sweat or two. She carn't droive, an' she di'n't want 'ubby pannikin' an' droivin' loike a loony ter get 'ome, in case 'e crunched up or sumfin'...espeshully if she were in t'hambuliance wot moight 'av been needed fer 'im, in that case...
Dun't bear thinkin' abewt, eh? An' ennyway, she were a bit wurried abewt goin' in ter A an' E, espeshully 's she recalled that Oi'd 'ad that sort o' trubble a foo year' back an' the 'ostiple akcherly popped me clogs fer me, fer a foo minnits - enuff ter put any'un orft, eh? Well, Oi'm still 'ere ter tell tales an' 'ave me moans, but Oi arsk yer - since wen d'yer get two 'ours warnin' o' possibibble 'eart attack, or anyfink else narsty???
Blimmin' 'eck, docs - 'ow comez yerz all on such fandoozy sallaries, yet yer starff put us all orft sayin' yerz 'in't got toime ter see all the sufferin' folks when we needs yer most? Oi know our area's growed lots over the parst foo years wiv 'ouses an' resimidents an' all - Oi've watcheded it whoile Oi'm roidin' me scooty - but it 'in't much ter arsk fer a qwick peek, eh? Juss wot are youze lot doin' in there wiv all yer toime? Debatimitatin' abewt buildin' annuver surgerery? We live in 'igh 'ope 'o that...
"H'improved appointyments", moi foot - they deserves the "birch"* fer that porky...
(Birch bein' the name o' the surgery, 'ere)
'Allo all - y'oroight? Oi'm oroight, too - an' tha's juss as well, in't it, eh? Oi mean, yer carn't get inter the docs fer an appointyment ter save yer loife, eh? An' Oi mean that quoite literal, loike...
Take moi poor step-dorghter-in-law - there she were, 'avin' a roight rum year wot wiv losin' 'er lad an' puttin' up wiv lots ov aggaravashun frum all sorts o' places, still gettin' on wiv all 'er chores an' stuff a foo weeks agew, an' not susprisin', she gets a roight whammer ov a chest pain - an' not fer the first toime, oither (she usuarlly juss don't utter a mutter - juss carries on, loike) - only this toime it were bad enuff ter worry 'er, an' she gets on the jellybone ter the doc fer an urgent appointyment.
The ol' gel on t'other end o' the loine says she can't 'elp, coz there's no toimes left...but 'ad me lass rung in a cupple ov 'ours earlier, they could'a squeezered 'er in! Lass on fone sez, "Go ter A an' E at the 'ostiple, if yer that worried" - an' wot sort o' hattitude is that? Moi lass juss wanted a bit o' checkover, not a hambuliance an' all that palaverication whoile 'er 'ubby's over t'other soide o' Norfik workin' up a sweat or two. She carn't droive, an' she di'n't want 'ubby pannikin' an' droivin' loike a loony ter get 'ome, in case 'e crunched up or sumfin'...espeshully if she were in t'hambuliance wot moight 'av been needed fer 'im, in that case...
Dun't bear thinkin' abewt, eh? An' ennyway, she were a bit wurried abewt goin' in ter A an' E, espeshully 's she recalled that Oi'd 'ad that sort o' trubble a foo year' back an' the 'ostiple akcherly popped me clogs fer me, fer a foo minnits - enuff ter put any'un orft, eh? Well, Oi'm still 'ere ter tell tales an' 'ave me moans, but Oi arsk yer - since wen d'yer get two 'ours warnin' o' possibibble 'eart attack, or anyfink else narsty???
Blimmin' 'eck, docs - 'ow comez yerz all on such fandoozy sallaries, yet yer starff put us all orft sayin' yerz 'in't got toime ter see all the sufferin' folks when we needs yer most? Oi know our area's growed lots over the parst foo years wiv 'ouses an' resimidents an' all - Oi've watcheded it whoile Oi'm roidin' me scooty - but it 'in't much ter arsk fer a qwick peek, eh? Juss wot are youze lot doin' in there wiv all yer toime? Debatimitatin' abewt buildin' annuver surgerery? We live in 'igh 'ope 'o that...
"H'improved appointyments", moi foot - they deserves the "birch"* fer that porky...
(Birch bein' the name o' the surgery, 'ere)
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