The George And The Dragon is now open.

[Mark One]

Saw this on Hull Evening news about social unrest in Weevleton due to water shortages.  Seems that alot of areas are closed off resulting in frustrated children (who should be in school, but are wagging-it) havin nowere to hide until 3pm. Check out Betty Haystacker & Gloria Rash having a go at the kids.  Notice how their husbands are nowhere to be seen - thats the mother-in-law Guild at work.  Oh those two kids in the brand new and very loud shirts.  Their mums that women whose phone number is on the wall in the gents at the dragon.

 

By more disturbingly, what's all this I've heard about the Dragon being swamped with OAPs!!!  Before you know it there'll be a Mobility ramp outside, jigsaw puzzles at the bar and grammar phones blurting out some wish-wash from 1926!

 

[newbloodmoon]

So I talked to mother-in-law and told her in no uncertain terms that this was a business for the selling of spirits and NOT to be stunk up by the Ben Gay brigade. She squinted her good eye, rolled up her sleeve and walloped me right in the Gob! I thought Dark Derek was going to outright faint.

I simply got up and informed her that I would sack her and hire some soulless ginger tart to take her place. She patted me on the shoulder and actually said she was sorry. I wasn’t sure if I misheard cause of concussion but she agreed to play nicer.

[Mark One]

Well I suppose you'll have to learn someday but she's marked you now.  All of the other ageless dozzas and Haglers out there will know by your bruise that you stood up to one of there kind.  That's not a good move, Bob!  Her being nice is a con to lure you into a false sense of security.  Just be on your toes cos before you know it, their entire pack wil be baking bread for you, making your tea, warming your bed...yikes...until you soften.  Once they've broke you with kindness you'll find yourself going on errends for them, tucking your shirt in, having a wash everyday until you dare not move without their consent.

 

How do you ever think such female versions of Jeff Capes ever got married?  By applying the same tactics and ultimately making the man of their house a nervous, twitching prisoner.

 

Oh, watch out for them trying to pair you off with one of their daughters! That's the oldest trick in the book

 

(Mr Moons disturbing future:  his very own ringside seat at No.71 Hogtree Avenue for afternoon tea and crumpets)

Edited February 13, 2021 by Mark One

[newbloodmoon]

On 2/13/2021 at 8:36 AM, Mark One said:

Well I suppose you'll have to learn someday but she's marked you now.  All of the other ageless dozzas and Haglers out there will know by your bruise that you stood up to one of there kind.  That's not a good move, Bob!  Her being nice is a con to lure you into a false sense of security.  Just be on your toes cos before you know it, their entire pack wil be baking bread for you, making your tea, warming your bed...yikes...until you soften.  Once they've broke you with kindness you'll find yourself going on errends for them, tucking your shirt in, having a wash everyday until you dare not move without their consent.

 

 

 

Holy crap you were right Mark, I just spent the day in a powder blue tux with shirt ruffles as I chauffeured Emma Lou Jenkins (the one in the knitted beret) ‘round town getting knitting and baking supplies.

[Mark One]

5 hours ago, newbloodmoon said:

Holy crap you were right Mark, I just spent the day in a powder blue tux with shirt ruffles as I chauffeured Emma Lou Jenkins (the one in the knitted beret) ‘round town getting knitting and baking supplies.

Flicks through filing system.  Erm yeah,  Mrs E. Jenkins; widow(what a surprise); judges others by their curtains; dislikes dogs; always shops at the Co-Op on a Tuesday morning.

 

She likes her men dressed in cleaning attire.  She's even lax in keeping tabs on them, but will scrutinize there every move outdoors (later) with the keeness and skill of a German interrogater.  Look mate, they're starting to groom you and they'll pass you around.  And don't fall for their aches and pains, bad feet and lack of lifting/carrying capabilities - they are instilling a guilt complex within your subconscious.

 

My suggestion:. Fake measles or chicken pocks in your family.  That should deter them.  You'll pay for it though.  The full wrath of a failed attempt at moulding you into their new lackey will be felt via the vicious instrument known as the mouth.  Yes, expect 11 weeks of character crippling gossip but every cloud as a silver wotsit.  Afterwards, you'll be blacklisted from the mother-in-law guild recruitment enterprise.  Like I was after Mrs Mark ran off with a Welsh Pipe Fitter.  They couldn't blame me, see.  No, and the gossip mill had to be filtered down too to avoid it all backfiring on her mother.

 

Stay safe, mate. (Never eat their offerings)

Keep indoors. (Protect your privacy from devious eyes)

Employ social distancing (when around those of a highly seasoned age who have a direct phone line to god.)

[Mark One]

Uncle Malc and cousin Milc have a right tasty money spinner running up here.  Punters pay them them £28 a month with the promise that the big man upstairs with the long beard shall bestow them with prosperity.  Archbishop Malcs church - the path of th lesser Shepard is raking it in.  (That's how it reads on the wall.  The letter E in 'the', got nicked)

[Mark One]

Great money spinner for the Harpy here.

Since we can't fit a full sized table in the bar why not try this?  It's all the rage in Hull.

[Mark One]

Came across this ad in a local chinese restaurant.

http://viz.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/061_04132014_12-59.png

[newbloodmoon]

I just finished installing cable and dish for the witty little knitters club, I’m sure it will be a while before they figure out that I didn’t turn the content blocker on since most of them this is an upgrade from their 40’s era tube radios. Perhaps they will stay indoors more when the steamy Spanish soaps come on.

At least I didn’t have to hand out the nagging flyers, that duty literally got dropped at the feet of Weevleton’s very own Hugh Macmuffin as he was attempting to eavesdrop on several of the gossip rackets going on.

[Mark One]

Champion, chief.  The tax man should be visiting soon so make sure you put the cleaners on leave for a week.  Turn off the stop tap to the gents, open a few tins of dog meat and leave around the bar for a few days.  Don't have a bath all week in preparation for their arrival oh and borrow some make up and fashion some boils on your face with sugar puffs.  That should do the trick and if all that fails pretend you are deaf and talk very loudly.  Oh tell em you don't know where I am.

Edited February 26, 2021 by Mark One

[littlebrowndragon]

On 2/11/2021 at 3:03 PM, Mark One said:

 Check out Betty Haystacker & Gloria Rash having a go at the kids.  Notice how their husbands are nowhere to be seen - thats the mother-in-law Guild at work.  Oh those two kids in the brand new and very loud shirts.  Their mums that women whose phone number is on the wall in the gents at the dragon.

I remember women having a go at me when I was a child. 

At the bottom of my street there was a large house in its own grounds.  It belonged to the council and was used as council offices.  The garden, however, was very tempting indeed for children.  Much of it was overgrown.  Myself and my siblings made a den under an old rhododendron bush in there.  We would sneak in and pretend to have picnics or some such.  However, sometimes we were spotted by council workers.  When we were, one or maybe two women would come out and stand on the steps, hands on hips.  Then they'd shake their fists at us shouting: "You get out of here or we'll get the polis onto you!"  (Polis = police.)  Whenever that happened, we ran for dear life.

[Mark One]

2 hours ago, littlebrowndragon said:

I remember women having a go at me when I was a child. 

At the bottom of my street there was a large house in its own grounds.  It belonged to the council and was used as council offices.  The garden, however, was very tempting indeed for children.  Much of it was overgrown.  Myself and my siblings made a den under an old rhododendron bush in there.  We would sneak in and pretend to have picnics or some such.  However, sometimes we were spotted by council workers.  When we were, one or maybe two women would come out and stand on the steps, hands on hips.  Then they'd shake their fists at us shouting: "You get out of here or we'll get the polis onto you!"  (Polis = police.)  Whenever that happened, we ran for dear life.

Yes indeed, my heart goes out to you.

[Mark One]

That young whippersnapper - Brian Kettle, is now old enough to drink in the Harpy.  Yes, I know we have all taken the Mick out of his baby-face looks, his dad Elvin, included.  But now he is 16yrs old and in my book that's good enough for me, even if I'm temporarily holidaying in Hull.

Brian, aged 14

He's grown a mustache as well so he will hopefully be more appealing at those milk shake disco jobbies.

Brian's brand new look at only 16yrs of age.  Compared to other lads in Weevleton, he's defo got that chisled, Roman looking boat race.  A true lady killer in the making and not one wart or boil on his boat either!  Lucky bogger.

[Mark One]

* Doors open into the Harpy's bar as three strangers wander in*

"Gleetings, my dliver Cato has booked a loom for the night.  Malk Won allanged it over phone.  A loom for Mimi and me.  The name is Mr Won an we frippin rooking forward to staying."

 

"I am not Malk Won, wight!  You idwiot to think that.  Now, may I have a peent of Bittel and a grass of Shelly."

[newbloodmoon]

They look on the up and up, nothing to see here folks, bartender business.

[Mark One]

(The harpies most recent guest seems to attract trouble)

Even his trusty aide, Cato is infact a hired assassin from Hull.

He isn't even safe near the bar.

And so to dry off, our mysterious guest wanders off to take in the air within Weevleton.  However, he is unaware that several other immensely evil men (and a mother in-law) have been hired to remove him.

Concluding with a near death experience in the gents!

[Mark One]

The following day, our mysterious guest announces with poor french Instead of Chinese - that hes off for a jaunt through Weevleton  in search of Micky The Knife*.  With his boat wrapped in bandage he excuses himself by stating, " I coot my cell-fer shay-ving"

 

 

* One armed butcher who is quite handy at altering your boat race.

[newbloodmoon]

On 3/12/2021 at 4:42 AM, Mark One said:

The following day, our mysterious guest announces with poor french Instead of Chinese - that hes off for a jaunt through Weevleton  in search of Micky The Knife*.  With his boat wrapped in bandage he excuses himself by stating, " I coot my cell-fer shay-ving"

Ohh no, mickey the knife just left an hour ago, he was trying to sell special bandage strips just shy of 8cm for 1 quid each. Perhaps it’s just a coincidence.

[Mark One]

Hmmm, I wonder if Micky the Knife was the wrong sort to have hired...All of that money spent on plastic surgery to find myself sporting a face lift....Oh and my boat harbouring a mustache, still - several bods have applauded my remarkable resemblance to a young Sean Connery.   Just before he became Roger Moore.

 

 

 

 

[acute]

On 2/11/2021 at 3:03 PM, Mark One said:

Check out Betty Haystacker & Gloria Rash

[ant0n]

11 hours ago, Mark One said:

Hmmm, I wonder if Micky the Knife was the wrong sort to have hired...All of that money spent on plastic surgery to find myself sporting a face lift....Oh and my boat harbouring a mustache, still - several bods have applauded my remarkable resemblance to a young Sean Connery.   Just before he became Roger Moore.

 

 

 

 

[Mark One]

2 hours ago, ant0n said:

Good shout, my friend.  There's a Drambuie & coke at the bar for you the next time you frequent my premises. 

...MIXED WITH BOOZE.

[ant0n]

7 hours ago, Mark One said:

Good shout, my friend.  There's a Drambuie & coke at the bar for you the next time you frequent my premises. 

...MIXED WITH BOOZE.

 

Ze French do it better, that is obvious ^^

However, nothing compares to ze Russians ^^

Traitors are NOT my cup of tea.

[newbloodmoon]

Damnit man, Boris said I could be his official umbrella holder and he betrays me for Phil “the Pugilist” Hoggsbottom who weaseled his way in. And here I thought I was gonna work my way up to tea time with the Queen on Friday's. 
 

well back to washing mugs and wiping counters.

[Mark One]

Well I once tried selling a used car to Chris Whitty.  The time wasting git!  He rang me several times with interest in an old O Reg Morris Minor that had been parked up at the Dragon.  Back then, Sh*try Whitty was a run of the mill first aider who drove around in a manky old ambulance all day.  I drove the Morris down to that London and he told me to clear off!  The flash git had just been promoted to Chief Med Officer (friends in high places). And he didnt even offer me a cup of tea either!  I threatened him with a harsh slap, I can tell yer.