BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate

Subject: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 12:23 AM

When I eventually come to a fleshy understanding with the exaulted one, this is what I'll post. Until then it remains merely a dream but it was good to see how it looked. One day, Ms Penelope Ruttledge, one day.

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: smallpiper
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 11:46 AM

I've heard that it will be a cold day im hell before that happens however the climate is changing so keep dreaming!

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 07:57 PM

Everyone should have a dream to carry them forward in life, and I think Oakley has picked a good one. Matter of fact, I have sort of fallen in love with the delectable Penelope R too, but I cannot even locate Twillingsgate on the most detailed map of the British Isles I can lay hands on around here, and I'm on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, so what am I to do?

There does appear to be a "Twillingate" somewhere in Newfoundland (note the missing "s"), but it is clearly NOT THE Twillingsgate that is the home to the incomparable Ms Rutledge, God protect her exquisite form! It's probably some wretched ex-fishing outport with an unemployment rate of 102%.

If I could locate the real Twillingsgate, the Twillingsgate of legend and lore, I would be there in a flash, Winston what's-his-hyphenated-face notwithstanding.

Alas, here I am stuck in Ontario, Canada, with a map that reveals nothing other than the fact that Goole is near Hull which is not far from South Ferriby...and a tour guide to Great Britain which contains no mention of Twillingsgate whatsoever. It's agonizing. I feel as powerless as Adrian Mole.

Oakley, I understand exactly how you must feel.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Beer
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 08:23 PM

What is an Adrian Mole? Is it a saying, like " I don't know Jack S---". Or is there such a thing.

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 08:50 PM

Adrian Mole is a fictional character in a very amusing series of humorous novels. The stories are set in England. Adrian is a young man with a lot of problems (mostly self-created). He longs to be a great novelist, but has terrible luck with women, jobs, relatives, and everything else worth mentioning, partly because he is such a perfectionist and partly because he is...well...a bit of a wimp. He whines, complains, agonizes, obsesses, and makes mad declarations of undying love to women who consider him slightly less desirable than a patch of woundwort. He writes prose that is sometimes SO bad that it's almost good! It is appreciated by almost no one, except his grandmother. He is oblivious to the very few women who are interested in HIM. He pursues those who are not, fanatically. He falls in love with his far older and happily married therapist, who tells him it is "transference" and charges him fifty quid. He is the human equivalent of an underweight aardvark with a lingering case of postnasal drip, trapped on an island that contains virtually no ants... He is Gollum without his precious, Romeo without his Juliet, Dubya without his war.

Check out your local library. They're great books, written in diary fashion by a very clever female author who understands insecure young males to a T. They're so great, it's hard to believe they're not true.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: smallpiper
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 09:01 PM

Twillingsgate is located in that place between the wall and the corner, the shelf and the book or 15 miles south of Market Raison which ever is closer!

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Leadfingers
Date: 27 Dec 02 - 09:22 PM

Little hawk that is a terrible insult to Groundwort. I can only hope that the Gods of Nature take pity on you.

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 28 Dec 02 - 04:14 AM

Perhaps we could have some comment from the beautiful (if a little haughty)Ms Penelope Ruttledge at this point. It would give this particular well-endowed cat-loving, erudite millionaire farmer (who is a Tom Sellick double), faith in his belief that all this yearning may not be in vain.

I am now going to nick a car in your honour, Ms Penelope Ruttledge. (Sigh)

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Little Hawk
Date: 28 Dec 02 - 04:09 PM

Leadfinger, the Gods of Nature dote upon me as though I were one of their very own progeny. In fact, I am one of their very own. And I said "woundwort", not groundwort.

- LH

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: GUEST,Ms Penelope Rutledge
Date: 28 Dec 02 - 09:27 PM

Oakley, there is really no need to go inventing fanciful descriptions of your assets in order to impress me. I have seen the Mudcat photos of Punch the Horse and of you, and in my opinion, Oakley, you put Tom Selleck to shame. You have no reason to be insecure about your physical appearance. I would say the same even if you were a pauper. I regard character as the vital thing in a man, not the size of his wallet.

Your sense of humour sometimes leaves me at a bit of a loss, I must say, but I can't fault your absolute dedication which is, well, really rather sweet.

I actually went to Hull recently, with the intention of seeing your band play, but was unable to find the venue for some reason. It's very puzzling. (?)

What is more puzzling is that Winston made a journey to both Hull and South Ferriby (so he tells me), intending I suppose to start an altercation with you. I said he was being an idiot, but he went anyway, because the fact is, he IS an idiot. At any rate, do you know what happened? He couldn't find you or Punch the Horse either! And what's more, no one in any of the clubs was able to help him. He did find some American band called (so help me) "Scr*w the Pooch", and ended up having words with their guitar player. He also found a so-called Christian punkrock band called "Judas S*cks!" Imagine! What is this world coming to? They told Winston he is going to hell for sure, and he told them something less printable than that, and it led to yet another horrendous scene of the sort that occurs when you combine simple minds with far too much alcohol.

I have cut Winston off entirely. If he can't control his drinking and his temper then he is not going to waste my valuable time. I fear he will come to a bad end, and it won't be my fault when he does. His father was much too lenient with him.

Now here's another strange thing. Winston says that he was in South Ferriby, but I cannot locate it on any map I have. He says it's "a hole", but that's what he would say. I'm sure it's quite charming. Twillingsgate, on the other hand, is naturally found on any good map of England, but it seems that some members of the forum are not finding it there. I can't imagine why that is?

Just what is going on here, I'd like to know? I've seen pictures of Punch the Horse, but I cannot find them. No one in Hull seems to know about them. How can this be?

Why do my PM's to you not go through? Just what is afoot here? It's all very mysterious.

In any case, I can assure you that we had a marvelous Christmas in Twillingsgate and I hope that you can visit our fair town one of these days. You can lodge at the Vicar's Inn. I finally managed to get them to take down that stupid plaque honoring the detestable Malcom Buggeroll, by threatening to bring a public lawsuit against him for assault if they didn't remove it at once. I won't go into details, but I was forced to sieze an antique saber off the library wall and put the point of it directly against Mr. Buggeroll's throat to dissuade him from certain, shall I say...unwarranted advances. Ha! You should have seen his face. The great "poet of the Highlands" turned very pale indeed! I would gladly have skewered him right there on the spot or better yet, have permanently altered some lower portion of his detestable anatomy with a deft stroke of the blade, but the legal complications would have been horrendous if I had, so I didn't. He can consider himself a lucky man indeed. The pompous beast still has half the women in Twillingsgate swooning away at his poetry readings and has probably seduced most of them as well (when he's not kept busy menacing children and livestock). Ugh! It's really awful what some people do when they get a little fame in this world.

But enough of that...

Do come to Twillingsgate whenever you can spare the time. Winston will not trouble you, because I have informed him in no uncertain terms that he will wish he'd never been born if he so much as lifts a finger in your direction.

My best wishes, Oakley, for a prosperous and fruitful New Year!

* PR *

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: Oaklet
Date: 29 Dec 02 - 05:53 AM

Darling, Darling Penelope. From this day on there will be a discernable spring in my step. Last night I dreamed that I was spoon-feeding you tripe in bed and I cannot beleive that this has become almost a reality. Please don't be too hard on WWJ. There was talk of a visitation round here, but the character was described to me as a stocky masculine blonde woman who was terribly pissed and incoherent. I think that this must have been Winston.

Please ensure that you have the happiest of new years. I'll call you on the electric telephone from the Vicar Inn.

Subject: RE: BS: Season's Greetings from Twillingsgate
From: smallpiper
Date: 29 Dec 02 - 06:09 AM

Its good to see that romance is alive and kicking (and screaming and generally making a bloody big fuss) in this new century, sigh