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The George And The Dragon is now open.


Mark One

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20 minutes ago, rashore said:

Wonderful! As always you are complete with details. Think a dozen tables like that could fit on the deck and still leave room for a goodly dance floor?

And the camels are in indoor storage. Not the best, but it will work for the short term of unloading. 

For you my little tin of pineapples, anything.  This was playing earlier on the wireless.  Must be fate.

 

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7 hours ago, Mark One said:

For you my little tin of pineapples, anything.  This was playing earlier on the wireless.  Must be fate.

 

Very apt. Now all we have to do it wait for it to be warm enough to have a moonlight dance on decks. Though a dance or two to break in the new shoes before then isn't out of the question. 

And a bit of luck- those camel drivers that assured me about the food offered to take half the camels back through the needles eye pass if they could take a couple of the most offensive smelling food cargos with them. I told them they could, they should be departing in the morning. That only leaves about a score of camels left to house for a bit. And nicely enough, a few of those gallons of paint meant for the old place will be entirely suitable for painting the employee room with. 

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McRashore (Outer Hebrides) has been in touch about a sunken ship filled with spirits and wines.  McMirk of the Kilt & Thistle Inn quite naturally sent his laddies around to bag the loot but some grass let the filth know about it.  So throughout this month expect alot of shipping heading our way from Haghill, Scotland.

 

Rashore my sweet, I enquired with your Gaelic counterpart about those camels.  McRashore said, "Nee no need em, lassie". I think it's a bit too cold up there in skurvy land.

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As for the camels I have a stunning plan me lord mark. Charge people to ride them on a circular track, we could call it a camel go round.

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That old crone who lives in the woods took 7 bottles of the old glow juice, paid me 70p for each one.  She came back for more last night.  It was the early hours of the morning when a cold chill awoke me to a tapping noise on my bedroom window.  She looked well pleased as she asked for more.  Told me that the water has improved her potions and curses.  She's apparently turned all the milk sour for a farmer in South London, given a traffic warden warts, killed a rival witch and bewitched several handsome men.

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Yeh, she even gave me a potion to make me lucky....I doubt it'll work but I can tell you this.  Nana NightSpragg is actually very attractive and such a loving and helpful lady.  She'd make the mother-in-law blush with envy, I can tell you.  Now I've got to go as Nana asked me to collect herbs for her in the woods and also deliver her some sacks of coal.

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It could be beneficial to have Matron Nightspragg, the residential wise woman as a happy patron. I’m sure that everything she does is aboveboard and ethical to match her stunning glow worthy looks. My only concern (outside any legalities I might be unaware of) is gaining the ire of the Iron Lady herself. How tolerant is Margo Thatchfield when it comes to healthy competition?

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Oh how I great I feel in her presence.  I even have dreams about her and feel almost like jacking the pub game in.  She's even offered to stick a curse on the mother-in-law.

 

Mistress NightSpragg does seem to scare off alot of punters, mind.  Oh, what were you saying, Mr Moon?  I seem to lose track of things these days.  Hey that Cardigan looks abit worn, here, take £10 and go buy yourself a new one...and some shoes...and whatever.  I'm out in a bit, I promised Nana that I'd repair her cottage roof.

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Dark Derek s got the bug

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But do you know how many blokes are now taking walks in Muggers Wood?  It's bloody shocking!  It's starting to affect my trade too.  Old Jim got an ear bashing off his missus over the weekend after partaking in countryside pursuits.  Coffin Dodger Walter got lost on his way back and has since been seen scrubbing his wife's doorstep, wearing an apron.  Oh and peg-leg Maurice got a smack in his hooter(via his beloved wife's hot iron) for suggesting that he knew of someone who could sort out her hairy behind.

 

 

 

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Poor, dear, Dark Derek. Looks like he got in to the catnip again.

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there's a blast from the past" peg-leg Maurice" i thought he had gone years ago,i don't mean snuffed it i thought he done one with old turnip Teds missus Mucky Maude  

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The other night, Zac the Zebra Gasgoine came into some mischief on his way home.  He got off at the wrong stop near Staggers Farm, took a swift trot down Pig Lane, took a left through a field and then stopped to cough his lungs up before carrying on.  

 

Now I'm not saying that the 5 gin and oranges muddled his judgement but...the stone wall which he assumed seperated him from Boggers Wood actually turned out to be old Miller's Bridge which as we know is half a mile away.  Poor Zeb leapt over that wall and fell 20 feet into a sodden disaster.  Both knees crunching into his ribs...ouch.

 

But as we all know, he'll be rate!  There's a jar at the bar for him, a collection tin of sorts so that we can buy him a fruit.

 

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I've nipped into QuikSave with the 6p collection for gud old Zac...you tight fisted baskets!  Couldn't even afford a decent solitary plum.  So I've chosen this.  It's got fruit innit, I think.

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Edited by Mark One
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Just add milk can't see that happening ....... now just add Guinness that's a different story

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Runs in a little winded, “sorry bout being late boss, there was an incident at the dover cliffs. Ole Ms. Jerkins was spreading her late husbands ashes when the wind kicked up and she got a mouth full of Herberts ashes righr smack in her gob.”

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That's nothing, pal.  Mistress NightSpragg has spontaneously combusted!  17 old age pensioners went into those woods last night to have words with the wise women.  They seemed quite miffed about their henpecked husband's looking and feeling 20 years younger again.

 

Anyhows, they clearly won the arguement, taking turns to mock Nightspraggs hair, shoes, living conditions with "on your doorstep gossip." Spent 3 hours circling her cottage with ritualistic, in your face verbals and declarations of being struck down with women's troubles.

 

By 4am Nana NightSpragg came outside with her broomstick and tried to curse the lot of em.  The mother-in-law stepped forward, snapped her broomstick and then headbutted her. Nana ran into her cottage threatening them with the glow juice. No one knows what happened next but Sissy Clunkin swears blind that the windows to the cottage turned green and then there was an explosion.

 

The police and fire service, as per normal were baffled.  Put it down to an accident which resulted in Nana turning into a living furnace.

 

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Well me and the boys weighed-in everything from that old women's hovel.  Made £187 from all that iron which she seemed to horde.  Good god, her drum was a right dive.  The mother-in-law has sent her well built nephew's into the woods to cleanse what's left with dogs, hammers and threats towards anyone approaching.  The council puts up signs to alert members of the public, but the mother-in-law uses brute force.  Speaking of the mother-in-law, she's not forgot my petrol/water hangup with that waterbed.  Might look into a new one filled with some of that glow juice.

 

George the dribble ( you know him, that sacked pit worker who excretes his oils 24/7) left his mother with her jewelry for that old hag.  What a total kn@bh@@d, hah-hah.  But now, he doesn't just glow, no there's something even more cosmic going on with him.  TV sets display snow and loss of sound whenever hes nearby.

 

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Mark..... Dear boy,

What the ***** are you dribblin' on about? Have you been at the Bat juice again?

You know they clean engines with that stuff, right? 

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On 2/3/2021 at 4:46 PM, Mark One said:

George the dribble ( you know him, that sacked pit worker who excretes his oils 24/7) left his mother with her jewelry for that old hag.  What a total kn@bh@@d, hah-hah.  But now, he doesn't just glow, no there's something even more cosmic going on with him.  TV sets display snow and loss of sound whenever hes nearby.

 

 
Plunks down a knapsack on the counter. I’m attempting  to smooth down my hair in the mirror and squint at sll the scratches on my face.
 

“I sure hope Mark appreciates the vials of oil I scraped off the hairy back of one sleeping George the dribble. His second wife Norma, the one with the buck teeth like a Godzilla sized beaver woke up and scratched the bejeezus out of me like some half crazed hellcat. Thankfully I had everything packed up tight in wool or the vials would’ve been plumb broken.”

I guess I better use that £10 note he gave me while hopped up on witch juice to get my clothes fixed.

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6 hours ago, newbloodmoon said:

 
Plunks down a knapsack on the counter. I’m attempting  to smooth down my hair in the mirror and squint at sll the scratches on my face.
 

“I sure hope Mark appreciates the vials of oil I scraped off the hairy back of one sleeping George the dribble. His second wife Norma, the one with the buck teeth like a Godzilla sized beaver woke up and scratched the bejeezus out of me like some half crazed hellcat. Thankfully I had everything packed up tight in wool or the vials would’ve been plumb broken.”

I guess I better use that £10 note he gave me while hopped up on witch juice to get my clothes fixed.

*Worried*

Right, Mr Moon.  Here's the keys to the boat cos I've got to go away for a bit.  Oh the key to the safe is hidden inside the teapot, erm...oh yes, Brender Effins fella will be around on Saturday to take payment for the watered down spirits.  There's £85 quid for him behind the cistern in my bathroom.

 

Seems the police are tracing the origin of a bizarre, high!y unstable solution back to my boat.  Big Mirk ( in his wisdom) poured some of it into that redundant swimming pool behind the Dragon (for a laugh) and it seems to have somehow joined the water supply in Weevleton.  So we're both off abroad for a bit at our Aunty Beryl's.  I'll send you a post card once we're both settled in Hull. *Rushes around*

 

To all drinkers, slurpers and devoted friends

 

Love you, bye...honest, wait scrub that.  You don't know me, right?

 

 

 

 

Edited by Mark One
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Hmmm, this is a bit of a quandary. Well everyone both places will remain open, thankfully Mother-in-law begrudgingly agreed to manage the “George and Dragon”. Dark Derek will be the lifeguard during the warm season. Mother-in-Law insists that she serves only light drinks and she will take no shriff. From anyone, I wasn’t about to argue with a woman who holds several titles in the underground bare knuckle brawl circuits.

I had to hire Willy “Weasel Eye” Var’dak to take the last stores of green spirits and wisk them away no questions asked. The Weevleton gossip circuit made its way to the docks early this morning. Apparently there was a rash of reports ‘bout the dead coming back to life last night. Ol’ Tim Mccreedy saw this as a sign as the second coming of Jesus. He took it upon himself to stand in the middle of the road, naked as a jay bird screaming to the heavens that he was ready to be raptured up to heaven.

 

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So does this mean no more of the flaming drinks to keep us warm??

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3 hours ago, tcgram said:

So does this mean no more of the flaming drinks to keep us warm??

On the party barge for sure, I think mother-in-law wants to turn the old place in to a “classy” joint with fine wines, cheese spreads, and finger foods to be served by the gents of 300, minus the Spartan fighting pride of course.

I’m sure she would be amicable towards one of our best customers such as you.

Edited by newbloodmoon
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On 08/02/2021 at 6:09 AM, newbloodmoon said:

Hmmm, this is a bit of a quandary. Well everyone both places will remain open, thankfully Mother-in-law begrudgingly agreed to manage the “George and Dragon”. Dark Derek will be the lifeguard during the warm season. Mother-in-Law insists that she serves only light drinks and she will take no shriff. From anyone, I wasn’t about to argue with a woman who holds several titles in the underground bare knuckle brawl circuits.

I had to hire Willy “Weasel Eye” Var’dak to take the last stores of green spirits and wisk them away no questions asked. The Weevleton gossip circuit made its way to the docks early this morning. Apparently there was a rash of reports ‘bout the dead coming back to life last night. Ol’ Tim Mccreedy saw this as a sign as the second coming of Jesus. He took it upon himself to stand in the middle of the road, naked as a jay bird screaming to the heavens that he was ready to be raptured up to heaven.

 

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GOOD LAD!  ME AND MIRK ARE FINE, THE AIR AND THE BEERS TAKING SOME

GETTING USED TO.  STICKY MICK WAS ARRESTED ON SUNDAY.  HIS DARK 

ROOM CONTAINED SEVERAL JARS OF THE GLOW JUICE.  LOOKS  LIKE THE LAW

WILL THROW THE BOOK AT HIM FOR EMPTYING RADIOACTIVE ISOTOPES INTO

THE DRAINS.  BODS ARE LOOSING THEIR HAIR AFTER HAVING A BATH!  WILL

RETURN SOON, GROWING BEARD AT THE MO. GOD, HULL IS SO CRAP.

 

BEST WISHES

 

MARK &MIRK

 

 

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