Tin of the Week

This is an unusual item - a tin containing "froot".

We don't normally eat "froot", as we like to stick to our processed meat and salty snax diet as much as possible. Our systems are accustomed to it and we feel that "froot" would interfere with that.

However we found this on the skip outside Tupfinder Towers, and decided just to take it for a rainy day, or for throwing at visitors, or both.

It's a tin of Co-operative pear quarters, and was priced down at 39p. It states on the tin that you have to eat THE WHOLE TIN in order to reach just ONE of the mandatory five a day, as laid down by the Ghastly Wilson and his ilk. Needless to say we won't be bothering with that carry on.

We talk about jobs and munny

We quickly became bored with our cloaks and have stuffed them under the sofa, to use another time.
Razor Bill stopped by with the post this morning, and stayed for his usual blether.
"It occurs to me that I'm the only person Hereabouts with a "job"," he said, tucking into a hefty bacon and double egg sandwich.
Geoffrey and I exchanged glances. "What's a 'job'?", we asked.
Bill nearly choked. "Look at ME! carrying sacks of letters and goodness knows what, all over the shop! you don't think I do this for pleasure, do you?"
Bill explained that he works a certain number of hours per week, for an employer, viz. the G.P.O., and is rewarded with "munny".
"But we don't use "munny" Hereabouts. We don't need it."
"I know," said Bill. "It's all very well for you chaps to rake bins and skips for food. Not to mention your OTHER activities. Manners prevent me from saying what. The rest of us mortals have to LIVE. People talk about you two, you know."
"Well, we're not the only ones who don't have jobs. No-one else does Hereabouts. We're all self-sufficient. And by the way - how's your bacon and double egg sandwich? no trouble at all to fry that up piping hot for you and put on the red sauce just the way you like it and everything."
Bill coughed in an embarrassed way as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Very nice thanks. Suppose I'd better be off."
"Suppose you'd better," I scowled, glancing at the letter he'd brought. Oh no. It was another one from the Humungous Whacking Great Pylon and Compulsory Green Energy Consumption Commission.
I put it on the fire while Geoffrey wasn't looking.

Hours of Fun

Geoffrey and I have had a great time today. We decided to try out our new hooded black cloaks, and so we got up early and went for a walk along the cliffs. It was a blowy day, with a storm brewing "Over there", and looking very much as if it was feeling like heading "Hereabouts".
As we neared the Old Coastguard Hut (see gazetteer)the sky turned an odd pewter-like colour, which put me in mind of my own dear pewter-style mug, which I use for supping madeira.
"Perhaps we should head home to the fireside, Geoffrey, and have a stiffener. After all, it's gone half ten."
Before he could reply, a crowd of rats emerged willy nilly from the tunnel entrance/exit, which readers will recall is located within the Old Coastguard Hut. When they caught sight of us, they ran back in, screaming at the top of their lungs.
"It's the Reaper! And he's got back up!"
Geoffrey and I exchanged glances. "Let's take the long way home, and scare some more people!" I suggested excitedly, enjoying the feeling of power. "I wonder if we can pick up a couple of scythes from somewhere. Let's have a look in the T-G's skip!"
"Don't be selfish Tuppy. Think of the elderly, and the sick. You could tip them over the edge..."

A reader asks...

A reader asks...what's the photo of the door all about? well, as I didn't have a photo of a skip to hand, I posted a photo of the Tupfinder General's back door. The skip is in front of the front door, but I couldn't get a decent angle. I'm doing my best here, K?

We Receive a Gift

Mrs T-G's been busy over the weekend. As they still happened to have the skip handy outside Tupfinder Towers (the one they'd hired for the fatty snax), Mrs T-G took the opportunity to clear out the attics, and found some old black-out material. She has kindly used it to run us up matching "Reaper-style" black cloaks, so we can cover up our "Bums 'n' Tums".

The T-G brought them round for us to try on, yesterday.

"Very flattering," he said admiringly as Geoffrey and I paraded round the Outcrop. "Work that look. You'd never guess what was hidden under there."

"Probably just as well," shrilled Tuppence, who had turned up out of the blue.

I threw off my cloak in defiance. "I'm not ashamed of my Bum 'n' Tum," I cried. "I'm expecting a complementary delivery of Holland's Pies very shortly. I WAS going to share them out, but I won't now. I'm going to scoff the lot, so there." And I huffed off with my cloak tucked under my arm.

Then I had an idea...

A reader asks

A reader complains that I've been leaving too many "loose ends" recently, and wants to know the following.
a) what happened after Tuppence fired his pistol indoors? did the Rocky Outcrop collapse after all? Answer - No! (yawn - of course it didn't - it's seen FAR worse calamities. And, even if it HAD collapsed, we could reconstruct it in no time - as we did last year when it got blown up.)
As for Tuppence, he effed off to the tunnels again afterwards, to hatch some ghastly plan with the rats. We'll probably hear more of that, later.
b) what happened to Spockfingers after he got wedged in the window of the Rocky Outcrop - did he unwedge himself, or is he still there waiting to lose weight like YOU did Tuppy, when you were wedged in the crack? Answer - NO - of course he's not still there. He managed to unwedge himself in the usual manner, aided by a liberal application of some fat we found in one of our cooking implements.

Mild swear word of the week

"Chuff." As in "chuffing hell/heck", "what the chuff is that?", "get chuffed", and "chuff off."

Quote of the week

Geoffrey and I found this in a skip outside the T-G's residence, yesterday afternoon. I'd like to say that our eyes just happened to fall upon it, willy nilly, as we were passing, but no - I'm afraid we were short of readies (not that we use "normal munny") and we were running low on crisps. Usually, in such circs., we would nick some from the Puff Inn cellars, or Geoffrey might rake the bins at the tourist car park. However, on this occasion, we decided to check out the T-G's skip. Reason? we'd heard via Razor Bill that Mrs T-G had been to a "Bums 'n' Tums" evening last Wednesday night, and had been so horrified at the state/size of her "Bum 'n' Tum" compared to the others there, that she rushed home in a right old state to Tupfinder Towers, and immediately emptied all fatty foods 'n' snax from all of her cupboards. There was so much, that the lid of their wheelie bin wouldn't close and the T-G had to arrange a skip.

Cue me and Geoffrey. We couldn't care less about our bums 'n' tums.

"But it was only recently that you got stuck in the crack, " queried Geoffrey, as we stuffed a bin liner with crisps and packets of pies. "Shouldn't you..well...be cutting down a bit?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply," I sniffed. How dare he betray me like that?

"I'm only thinking of your health," he ventured, noticing my hardening expression.

"Well don't flaming bother," I snapped. "Else you'll have to start thinking about your...here, what's this?"

And I picked up the book pictured above - Elizabeth Goudge's The Middle Window.

It fell open at page 54. "People talked a lot about the death of the body and the life of the spirit but what did they know about it? What did anyone know? Men laughed and talked and ate and drank inside a little lighted house of life and outside was a great windy darkness that stretched they knew not where and held they knew not what," I read.

"Indeed," boomed a familiar voice. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

"For pity's sake. can't you give us a break for five minutes? And don't you ever wear anything other than that ghastly black hooded cloak?"

It was the frigging Grim frigging Reaper, lurking about in his usual cheery manner.

"I find it covers up the "Bum 'n' Tum" very nicely if I'm having a fat day," he growled, twirling his scythe. "Plus, I never need to concern myself with "bad hair" days, either. Job done. Maybe YOU should get yourself one, Tuppy."

Our cooking implement

A reader wonders how Geoffrey and I manage to cook, as we don't have "leccy" or "gas", or indeed an electrical gas-fired BBQ, like Apsley and Cherry.

Well we sometimes managed to boil up a can of beans on the fire - see header photo - and that is what we generally use for boiling the kettle, also. But we have another implement - the spirit stove - please see photo. As you can see, there are holes for fitting the outer pot, on to the stove, and within the outer pot, we fit an inner pot, which contains the vittles. Geoffrey works the "poo foo valve", which can be seen to the right of the photo, in order to fire the thing up, while I do the stirring.

Geoffrey tells me I'm a born stirrer. I'll take it as a compliment as I cannot be arsed having an argument with him - but I know full well what he's getting at, and what's more he knows that I know.

Biscuit of the Week - kind of

This week's biscuit of the week WAS going to be the Cadbury's Turkish Delight - the biscuits, obviously, NOT the chocolate bar. However, as Geoffrey ate them all before I could take a photo, and then cunningly disposed of the wrapper hoping I wouldn't notice they were gone, they're not.
I managed to eat ONE before they disappeared, and I have to say they have a limited appeal. I've never been a fan of Cadbury's chocolate (far too sickly), but if you are, you might enjoy them as they are thickly coated in the stuff. The Turkish Delight bit is tiny, and quite runny - sort of a small blob of rose-flavoured jam - and the biscuit base is quite nice and crunchy. But overall the dominating flavour is of Cadbury's chocolate.
Word of warning - they are too small and chocolatey to dunk - in my opinion AND experience. The whole thing can easily slip out of your hand and drop into a cup of tea. Especially if you've just been indulging in a "hair of the dog" after a bit of a night of it at the Puff Inn - but that's another story, which I will tell probably tomorrow once I've had me fry-up.
Personally, re. biscuits - I'm sticking with my faves, the FJR (Fox's Jam Rings).

1980s songs that drive you over the edge

Spockfingers has been giving it laldy at the Puff Inn most nights recently. It must be the Spring air or something. Unfortunately he got hold of a 1980s songbook as part of a Speedispend special offer/from off some minging skip somewhere, and his top three are as follows (brace yourselves and have a bucket handy):

"Take My Breath Away" by Berlin
"Power of Love" by Jennifer Rush
"Lady in Red" by Chris de Burgh

It's driving everyone nuts - to the extent that people are running willy nilly towards the cliff edge in order to escape the ghastly racket. Consequently, the cliffs have started to crumble and "snap off" - we're at risk of disappearing into the sea...

The Special Freshness Device

Just a quick "biscuit addendum" - here's what we call our "Special Freshness Device" - or "tin". Simply put your opened packet of biscuits in the device, or tin, and close the lid. They should keep for weeks.

However - word of warning - if following the "impress visitors" option, please be aware that your biscuit wrapper MIGHT become crumpled in the confines of the device, thus raising suspicions among visitors, that you are "pulling a fast one" vis a vis biscuit quality. It's up to you what you do next, but personally I'd have a back up plan.

The Special Freshness Device

Just a quick "biscuit addendum" - here's what we call our "Special Freshness Device" - or "tin". Simply put your opened packet of biscuits in the device, or tin, and close the lid. They should keep for weeks.

However - word of warning - if following the "impress visitors" option, please be aware that your biscuit wrapper MIGHT become crumpled in the confines of the device, thus raising suspicions among visitors, that you are "pulling a fast one" vis a vis biscuit quality. It's up to you what you do next, but personally I'd have a back up plan.

Biscuit of the Week - the McVitie's milk chocolate digestive

Glitch having un-glitched itself (along with multiple clumps of my hair) here we go with biscuit of the week - the McVitie's Digestive (milk chocolate). £1.20 for a big pack, this is not bad value. However, the actual "Value" brands taste much the same, and are a quarter of the price, so here's a handy money-saving tip. If you want to impress visitors, keep the empty McVitie's packet - in as good condition as you can - and fill it with the "Value" biscuits. Make sure the "McVitie's" label is to the fore when you proffer the packet.

Tuppence takes a liberty

Tuppence arrived this morning, willy nilly and without so much as a by your leave. Haven't seen him for ages - and for once, he seemed not to be armed to the teeth. Instead, he was clutching a piece of paper, which someone with "leccy" had printed off their "computer".
"Uncle Tuppy, uncle Tuppy," he shouted. "Over on Shatner's Toupee, they have suggested that "toups" or "toup-like material" could/should be used to clear up the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. I thought maybe when you get sheared next month, you could use your spare wool to mop up the overspill from the Fulmar's cesspit? everyone complains about the stench once the weather heats up - and the flies!!"
"Yes all right Tuppence. We get the picture", I said testily. I hate people mentioning my wool, and the annual shearing. It's terribly embarrassing - a personal issue, which I loathe discussing. "But what I do with my spare wool is my own business, thank you. Anyway, what are you babbling about all that for at this ungodly hour? it's not half ten yet and I'm still in my P.J.s. Wait till I put the kettle on and fire up my pipe. And by the way - where are your pistols?" (Tuppence usually has a brace of pistols stuck in his belt).
"Right here, uncle Tuppy!" he shrilled, whipping them out from somewhere around ankle level. I glanced downwards.
"Where in the name of the T-G did you get THOSE? are you wearing them for a bet?"
"One of the rats stowed away on a ship bound for the Americas, and brought them back with him when he returned," explained Tuppence proudly, twirling round to show off an enormous pair of cowboy boots. "A souvenir of his trip. I took them off him in exchange for a debt. They're real snakeskin."
"You're not money-lending again?" I said worriedly. I'd heard that Tuppence was cashing in on the credit crunch. Geoffrey and I don't use actual money, and neither do many folks Hereabouts, but Tuppence often travels to Overthere, and gets up to "Allsorts" - none of it good.
"Yes uncle Tuppy. I've been up to no good again, money lending to prisoners on the hulks (see gazetteer for details). To people who can't possibly pay me back - and I don't care! I always get my pound of flesh in the end! ha -ha-ha!!" he laughed coldly. He then proceeded to turn his back to the fireplace, close his eyes and aim the pistols over each shoulder with arms crossed.
"Not again," wailed Geoffrey, hiding under the table and covering his eyes.
"I'm afraid so," I sighed, reaching for the sal volatile.
Readers will recall that some time ago Tuppence managed to write the letter "T" above our fireplace, in bullet holes. Well, he managed it again on this occasion - and I must say his aim is excellent - specially given he had his eyes closed.
"The bullets went in exactly the same holes as last time!" we chorused.
"You fools! I was firing blanks!! can't you tell the difference? you're SO naive!" Tuppence laughed again, in an annoyingly chilling, high-pitched manner.
Suddenly the ceiling fell in and everything went dark for a while.