Now where the fuck has he been?

by NobblySan

“Who?” I hear you ask.

“That miserable little bastard who bitches and moans about spelling, an’ grammer [sic], an’ shit.” shouts someone from the back of the room.

“William Rees-Mogg?”

“No! Not that twat. Another twat. Short bloke – getting on a bit  – lives in the North of England – used to write shite on here from time to time. Come on – you can’t have forgotten him already?”

“Oh!” an enlightened tone creeps into the waffling mood in the room “I know who you mean: I just can’t remember his name.”

“Good-looking chap – used to drive a van for Nottinghamshire county council?”

“Yeah! that’s him. Why do you want to know?”

“Well, for a start, he still owes me ten quid.”






6 Comments to “Now where the fuck has he been?”

  1. Credit for the return of such literary genius is due to atw, who prompted me by email.

    Please take it up with her if you have a problem.

    By way of thanks, atw – here are some pics from a recent ‘lads weekend away’ in the Yorkshire Dales.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I didn’t know you were short. This is going to screw up my fantasy life.

      Those pics are fandamntastic. It freaks me out how similar our hiking topography is. I mean, add some pine trees, a few thousand slack-jawed Trump voters and BAM! rural Oregon.

      OK…(sigh)…I guess I’ll get off my ass and start posting to my hiking blogs again. If you can do it….

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Warning to all madhatter readers

    do NOT accept a crumpled, stained, dog-chewed, paper £10 note from a squinty-eyed, vertically challenged geezer wi’ a ferret on a string

    [it ceased to be legal currency in UK a few days ago ]

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks. I couldn’t be arsed to lug my SLR around, so just used my phone.

      That was back in November – us lads (and one large dog) booked into The Racehorses hotel in Kettlewell for a weekend of walking and pubs. The female contingent buggered off for a spa weekend elsewhere.

      For a tiny village Kettlewell supports 3 great pubs, which were where we spent Saturday night. If you’re ever in that neck of the woods, then The Kings Head is fantastic for posh grub.

      On Sunday we legged it over the hill into the next dale and walked to Arncliffe, where there is a pub called The Falcon that we hadn’t been to for over 30 years. It falls into that rare category of ‘Best pub in the world’ – OK, we all know of at least four in that category, but what the hell – it’s like walking into an old farmhouse with comfy chairs and settees, Timothy Taylor’s ale from the jug, and proper food: pie and peas all round for us lot. Even the bogs are authentic – literally a shed at the other side of the back yard.


  3. quality of smart phone cameras is pretty impressive now compared to early days


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