Subject: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 08:57 AM The Half Dead Ted Tavern For Hosers and Back Bacon Cafe is now open for business.
The sign in the window says, "Are you a hoser? Got the balls to admit it? Well then what are you waiting for, eh? Get in here, you hoser!"
The smell of back bacon and doughnuts drifts through the kitchen door. Red Rose Tea and beer are on tap.
Several men and women are sitting around tables and at the bar. On most of them, the winter skin is almost gone except for a few lingering traces left on some noses and cheeks.
Johnny Death leans toward the hoser with the baggy pants on the stool next to him. His face is right up close, and he's got a wild gleam in his eye. He says, "So what do you think about women?" The room goes silent.
The door swings open and a man with a big mop of hair and a pathological number of harmonicas hanging all over him glides smoothly into the room. He's got a gleam in his eye, too. The reason becomes clear as the door swings open again and a tall, slender, dark haired woman wearing an 'Atherly Arms' t-shirt strides into the room with the confidence of a dancer and calendar pin-up girl.
In the death like silence of the room, no one dares to draw a breath. Who's going to be the biggest hoser now?
...and the bartender and cook shouts, "Back bacon's ready! Tea's hot! What are all you hosers waiting for? What'll it be?" A woman sitting at the end of the bar with an accordion case resting on the floor near her feet says, "Got any coffee?"... |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: SDShad Date: 18 Jul 01 - 09:28 AM So, who's up for a round of Beer Hunter, eh? Bob & Doug O'Spawn |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Lonesome EJ Date: 18 Jul 01 - 01:14 PM His nose found its way through the mound of trash in the Dumpster like a cruise missile steering toward a hardened bunker, regardless of collateral damage. "That's got to be a ham sandwich I'm smellin' fer dang sure," thought Gordon Heavyfoot, Grizzly Bear-about-town. He liked to make a morning stroll through the alleyways of Mudcatville nearly every day since Summer had peaked. The bright sun beating down on the dumpsters and trash cans created a veritable symphony of aromas, so that Gordon's nose always swung from side to side in indecision as he walked down the alleyways. But he usually made a bee-line for the Hoser Tavern because of the discarded back-bacon rinds that the management was inclined to toss into the dumpster, rinds that Gordon referred to in his internal monologues as "ham sandwiches". Gordon made a lot of racket as he sorted through the trash and broken beer bottles, a racket that was heard by the patrons inside, but no one opened the back service door to shoo him away any more, not since Carol the Cook had burst out one morning, broom in hand, her object to dissuade the ever-present raccoons fron creating a mess. When she saw Gordon, she had at first frozen as stock-still as any statue of Brave Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham, then fled into and through the screen door, slamming and bolting the solid oak one. Gordon seemed to have this effect on almost everyone. At first he had suspected his breath, holding one huge paw over his mouth and sniffing, but he found the aroma of coffee grounds, egg shell, and ants quite enticing. Now, he had grown used to it, and to the staring pale-faced patrons of the pub who gawked out the back windows at him. He leaned into the dumpster as the ham sandwich aroma became nearly overwhelming, and with a loud bang the metal chamber fell over on the asphalt. With a groan of satisfaction, Gordon schlurped up a long stringy bit of bacon rind, sat back and belched. He then commenced a series of snorting huffing vocalizations that sounded like random animal noises to the Pub patrons, but had Dr Doolittle been there, he might have heard these lyrics
In the early mornin' sun And Gordon leisurely resumed his perusal of the garbage, like a fat man wallowing in a salad bar. Finding no more ham sandwiches, he farted and ambled off. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 18 Jul 01 - 02:33 PM Atherly Arms t-shirt?!! Atherly Arms t-shirt?!!! ATHERLY ARMS T-SHIRT?!!!!! ROTFL!!!!!!!!!! Gosh, it hurts to laugh this hard. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 18 Jul 01 - 03:24 PM "Gimmie a Black 'orse!" says Jack! "Jumpin' Dyin! I never 'ad dis much fun since Joey was premier!" Slaps Heavyfoot on the back and says "You're an 'airy one ain't ya? right big too! How's she goin' me olde cock?" Without waiting for an answer, he down's his beer, walk to the center of the room and sings in a rough tenor voice.... Take me back where the beer is cold To the Mudcat Hoser Tavern Where company's good and so is the food Pull up a stool and have one In the Mudcat Hoser Tavern
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 18 Jul 01 - 03:33 PM What the hell is a hoser? Educate me, por favor. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 04:19 PM (WET, Atherly Arms T-shirt) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Ralphie Date: 18 Jul 01 - 04:40 PM Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner....! But, I haven't got a clue what any of you are on about.....But it seems harmless enough, so, have fun!! Regards Ralphie xx |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CET Date: 18 Jul 01 - 05:31 PM The name Atherley Arms means something to me, but I don't know why. Did I visit it on the astral plane, perhaps? CET (no longer signing as Edmund, since I found out that there is another Catter using that moniker) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 18 Jul 01 - 05:33 PM In come two brothers, typical Canadian males of the less educated rural type. They are dressed in workboots, jeans with rolled up cuffs, Lumber Jack shirts and Toques. Bob: "Nice pub! Beauty! Eh?" Doug: "Yeah, beauty." Bob: "Lets have a beer! Eh?" Doug: "Yeah. A beer would be good. Eh?" They order twenty cases of Molson Canadian, stack them is the shape of a sofa and coffee table, open a couple of brews and start drinking. Each sentence is punctated by a gulp of beer. Bob: "Check out the chick in the wet T-shirt Eh?" Doug: "Yeah, beauty eh! lets go hit on her eh?" Bob: "Take off! Ya hoser! I saw her first Eh?" Doug: "You Take off! It was my idea to hit on her." Bob: "Forget about it Eh? She's talking to the Bear." Doug: "Oh, OK." - It is my understanding that when Dave Thomas and Rick Moranis were inventing these characters. They intended to paint a picture of a certian type of young Canadian man. For the most part the picture is fairly accurate with one exception. At the time, such young men swore like sailors on shore leave. To be true to the characters Dave and Rick wanted to say such things as "F*CK off you F*CKer. Of course good taste and the censors wouldn't allow this. So they came up "Take off! You Hoser", a much more creative and funny result! - So now you know what a hoser is! Hoser in Georgia |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 06:16 PM "Hey, you hosers! Get your feet of the coffee table, eh?" Says Carol the cook (not to be confused with Carol the coffee drinker). "And somebody put a bib on that hoser of a bear! He's slobbering all over everyone's t-shirts..." Coffee drinking Carol turns to the dancer in the t-shirt... "So how's tips at the Atherly these days? I'm thinking about gettin a gig there, but I heard the customers blow all of their money at the casino."
The hoser in the baggy pants gets up on the beer case coffee table and clears his throat... he looks around the room, thinks hard for a minute, and steps back down, sitting next to the hoser with the harmonicas. They talk in whispered tones for a few minutes and then the harmonica hoser gets up on the coffee table and prepares to speak...
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Brothers and Sisters. I would like to make an announcement. My saggy friend here has made an important decision that could very well effect us all... indeed could effect the entire course of history for this lifetime and maybe several lifetimes to come. He has decided to try to put the errors of his past behind him, and attempt a second run for Mayor of Orillia. He is hopefull that most of you will be able to forgive him for his past indescretions, and he swears he's gotten rid of the toenail clippings collection... Honest."
"I believe him, eh?" Says Doug.
"Beauty, eh?" says Bob. "Let's have a beer to celebrate..."
As he reaches past the bear to grab a couple of brews from the nearest sofa arm, his face is momentarily buried Gordon Heavyfoot's fur. Nestled comfortably in the bear's undercoat is a residue of debris from all of the dumpsters in town. Including a small jar full of something looking suspiciously like... could it be? Toenail clippings? Maybe it was too much beer, or maybe it was the sight of the contents of the jar. Holding his hand to his mouth, Bob jumps up and runs out the side door, diving for the nearest McGill portable toilet... |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 18 Jul 01 - 08:41 PM Thank you CarolC and RobDale, now I know what hoser means. It means nothing. DougR |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: kendall Date: 18 Jul 01 - 08:49 PM ...thanks for asking Doug, it means what I thought! remember the parody on Dan McGrew?...In his ragged clothes he stood ready to hose anything that came his way...etc. crude, but funny. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 09:39 PM "now I know what hoser means. It means nothing" --DougR
...nothing or anything DougR. Depends on your imagination. Are you a hoser? Do you have what it takes to admit it? Have a beer, eh?
kendall, you've got a good point there. During the previous discussions on the etiology of the word 'hoser', someone pointed out that the word precedes the SCTV television show. I believe an explanation was given about it's earlier history, but I can't remember right now where it is. I guess I've got some research to do.
Personally, I think 'hoser' is a state of mind. I see it as a way to have a little fun in a self deprecating sort of way. A form of humor with which, although no Canadian I know will ever admit this, Canadians are exceptionally good.
So here are some cases of beer. Build yourself a lazyboy and have a beer, eh? The irony is that I started this thread thinking I could have a place to play with my friends where our fun wouldn't be curtailed, because I put the word 'Tavern' in the title. It seems to work for other people, so I thought I would give it a try. Ok, you hosers! Somebody go get Blind Drunk in Blind River, eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: catspaw49 Date: 18 Jul 01 - 10:33 PM "Hey...I gotcher __________ right here." .......Smart-ass American male reply to any question. Just fill in the blank with "hoser" or whatever it is that you are discussing which the smart-ass American male knows nothing about. Spaw |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 18 Jul 01 - 10:47 PM A very tall guy with bangs on his forehead comes out of the the john. "Nice washroom. There a hard seat and a soft seat and a big trough for two guys to thow up in. Has anyone seen my rooster?" He takes out his long flute goes to the stage and starts jammin' with a couple of cool cats. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 10:49 PM Hey Spaw, are you a hoser? Have you got the balls to admit it? There's a bear around here somewhere. Smells kind of funny. Someone said he belongs to you. He seems mostly harmless, but he sure drinks a lot of beer. And he's been slobbering all over the dancer in the T-shirt. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 10:55 PM Hey! Which one of you hosers just took a leek in the kitchen!?! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 18 Jul 01 - 10:57 PM *erm* Or maybe a 'leak'? Depends on whether your mind is down in the gutter with mine, I guess. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Lonesome EJ Date: 18 Jul 01 - 11:01 PM Gordon Heavyfoot sat on the floor by a table, guzzling yet another Molson's Golden. He moved his hindquarters in a vain attempt to rise and visit the dumpster outside, but the movement only disturbed the large green pile of Molson bottles that lay in a heap around him into a chorus of sharp clinks, and Bob and Doug slipped out of their comfy nestle-spots on his large belly, clacking their heads together only to open their glassy eyes and mumble "take off" to each other. Gordon stuck his jumbo snout into the peanut bowl on the table, licking out the last of the salt and nut husks while the bowl described a semi-circle on the table top. He had had no previous contact with humans, and was undecided as to the success of this particular encounter. He had been scratching his back on the corner of the Mudcat Hoser Tavern, when the back door had opened and a figure had stumbled uncertainly into the alley near him, and slowly unzipping its fly, had begun to piss on his left hind leg. He had unleashed an indignant roar which had caused the offender to first topple over, then rise to its feet in the manner of a beginning skier elevating itself on an icy 45% slope. The character (which later turned out to be Doug) had staggered in all four compass directions, and then sputtered "no harm meant, eh? Buy ya beer?" And then had draped his arm over Gordon's XXXL shoulder, and lead the bear into the bar, where surprisingly few of the patrons even took the meagerest notice of him. This had been some 26 Molson Goldens ago. The bear had already been invited three times out on the dance floor, eaten every peanut in the joint, had a mis-aimed dart strike him in the ass (conjuring up grim childhood memories of a tagging by the Forest Service just south of Dawson), and been given the masonic handshake by a grizzled lumberjack with a heavy Quebecois accent. He had also apparently won $58 on an Expos game. Through an alcoholic haze, a thought gradually resolved itself into a strong inclination. Turning his heavy head until his enormous muzzle was against Bob's right ear he said "ham sandwich!" "Eh?" said Bob. "He said 'mowrrrf...rumph', Bob. I think he's ready for another round." |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 18 Jul 01 - 11:02 PM Well it's Eleven o'clock (eleven-thiry in Newfoundland) Time for me to hit the hay. Good night eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 18 Jul 01 - 11:22 PM A man who looks much younger than his years, saunters into the tavern. He surveys the room and notes that a beautiful lady is seated at the bar, her hand grasping a glass of beer. He cannot tell whether or not it is a Guinness because her hand is REALLY large. He walks to the bar and takes the empty bar stool by the lady. She doesn't appear to be with anyone. He nods to the bartender who wipes a large pool of vomit off the bar, muttering, "Damn Liberals, they can't hold their booze!" He moves to the silver haired stranger sitting by the beautiful lady and says, "What'll it be stranger?" The stranger replies, "Beer and a lot of it." "That ain't very specific," the bartender replies. "You want specific," the very handsome and obviously very intelligent stranger replies, I want what the lady is having." For the first time the beautiful lady looks at the very very handsome stranger. "You ain't got a mind of your own, stranger?" "I've got two minds, as a matter of fact, pretty lady." "Which one are you using tonight?" "My right one, pretty lady. I only use my left one on weekends. I noticed you when I came in," the stranger says. "Oh? What singled me out from the crowd?", she replied. The very tall, very handsome stranger with beautiful white hair replied, "Well, for one thing, there ain't no crowd, pretty girl. And for another, it's obvious that you are a hoser!" DougR |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 18 Jul 01 - 11:35 PM As the bear seemed to have settled down a bit, the dancer went and talked to the cook. Coming out of the kitchen with a key on a long chain and a bucket of water, she walked out to the outhouse. After closing the door carefully behind her, and making sure no-one was peeking through the cracks, she rinsed the bear drool off her t-shirt. "If it's gonna be wet, it's gotta be WATER! Or at least rum'n'coke." Clean, and with an even wetter t-shirt than before, she walked back into the bar and ordered a rum'n'coke to go with her pea and bacon soup... Doug "What's she got? Rum? That's not beer, eh?" Bob "Yeah, eh? Beer is the best! Beer rulez, eh? Hey, lady! Can I buy you a beer?" Doug "Take off, you hoser! It was my idea to hit on her!" The two guys start fighting, and their toques go flying across the room. One toque zings down the full length of the bar, and clears the pool table. The other ends up hanging, appropriately, off the antlers of the moose head above the door. The dancer laughs. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST,Bardford Date: 18 Jul 01 - 11:52 PM The guys that gotta go ta work in the morning start filtering outta the bar into the cool summer night air. Bob and Doug and the big hairy guy are elbowed up on the bar, starin' at themselves in the mirror, eatin' pickled eggs and buyin' tickets for tommorrow's meat draw. The floor is littered with peanut shells and losing pulltab tickets. Bored, the woman in the Atherly Arms T-shirt gets up from her table and stands on the small stage in the corner. Johnny Death lowers the house lights and the bar goes right quiet. As the single spot light comes up on the woman in the Atherly Arms T-shirt, an accordian breathes an un-named tune into the waiting darkness. "Hey, boys," says the woman in the Atherly Arms T-shirt, " I got somethin' I think you all wanna see." All eyes gaze with varying states of focus at the woman on the stage as she slowly untucks her Atherly Arms t-shirt from the top of her jeans. Focus and attention become clearer as she pulls her top higher and higher, revealing... " No way !" shouts Bob, or maybe Doug, " That's friggin beautiful! She's got a friggin' video of the '72 series! Stuck in her pants!" " Hey hosehead, I saw her first, eh?" says Doug, or maybe Bob. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 19 Jul 01 - 12:25 AM The bartender stared at the spectacle unfolding before him. After the freaky day he'd had today, he was prepared to believe just about anything. Across the bar from him sat the very handsome and obviously very intelligent stranger. The stranger had a starstruck look in his eyes, and he was muttering something about his right mind and his left mind. He couldn't be sure, but he thought maybe the stranger had said something about leaving his mind. He was speaking in tender loving tones and was obviously quite smitten. But just as it looked like the stranger was closing in on his final chat-up line, the bear grunted, shook off the stranger's arm, and shuffled off in search of another beer. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 19 Jul 01 - 02:55 AM And the very handsome and obviously intelligent silver haired stranger followed. She sat on a bar stool at the other end of the bar and gnawed on the center knucle of her left hand, which was considerably SMALLER, than her right hand. The determined, and very smitten silver haired stranger takes the only empty bar stool beside the loverly maiden. Whilst sitting there he devised a plan. 'Contact,' he thought to himself, all I need to do to show this lovely lady that I am hers is to make contact!' Slowly, cautiously, he moved his knee close to hers, and every so softly made contact with her knee. SHE DID NOT MOVE HER KNEE! He was encouraged! He motioned to the bartender for another round. Elated at his successful contact with this ravishing creature that had so willingly accepted his knee pressing against hers he said, "Bartender, drinks for everybody!" The bartender surveyed the room. Bob, Doug, the silver haired, very intelligent looking stranger, and the ravishing, buxom raven haired beauty seated next to the silver haired, very intelligent looking stranger, were the only customers in the Pub. "So, you got twelve bucks on ya?" The silver haired, very intelligent looking stranger paused, as he was about to take a sip of his Black and Tan and said to one and all, "I do!" The bartender poured drinks all around. The silver haired, very intelligent looking stranger, encouraged by the acceptance of his knee firmly implanted next to the buxom, ravishing beauty on the bar stool next to him, decided to make his next move. He rested his left hand on the right knee of the buxom, ravishing beauty. SHE MADE NO MOVE TO REJECT HIS SERIOUS ADVANCES! He was encouraged. The bartender pours drinks for the foursome, and the silver haired, very intelligent looking stranger decided to test the waters further. He SQUEEZED the knee of the buxom, ravishing beauty seated on the bar stool next to him. There was no reaction! Perplexed, he turned and gazed at the buxom, ravishing beauty and squeezed her knee harder. It was then that the silver haired, very intelligent looking stranger discovered that the beautiful, raven haired, buxom lady seated on the barstool next to him had a wooden leg! DougR |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 19 Jul 01 - 11:48 AM Jack, the sailor wakes up, every inch hungover, and crawls out from under the pool table. 'Oo's got da 'ockey tape? H'i loves watchin 'enderson score dat goal. Put 'it h'in da VCR buddy. Til we watches it. H'a Black 'orse for dose dat like Newfie beer, A moose 'ead for dose wit weak stomachs. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 19 Jul 01 - 11:53 AM Mousethief, in the corner, gnaws silently at a leek he has stolen from the kitchen. Tears streaming from his eyes, he ponders the meaning of "hoser" and wishes someone would realize he needs a beer. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 19 Jul 01 - 12:03 PM Jack who smells of salt water and twine: Hey you dere in da corner! Dat's a funny lookin' h'onion you're chewing h'on. (Just like a yound kitten a gnawing fresh fish) Come h'on over 'ere h'and 'ave a Black 'orse. I've bought a round for da bar. 'ow about dat speech from h'espisito 'e sure told 'em. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 19 Jul 01 - 12:06 PM Mouse scampers over to the bar and perches on the rim of a black horse, drinking quietly (still crying from the leek). |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 19 Jul 01 - 01:13 PM Sailor to Mouse: "Cheer h'up me ole trout! 'ere 'ave some cod tongues. Dey are fresh h'out h'ov da fishe's mout' ! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 19 Jul 01 - 01:16 PM Squeak? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 19 Jul 01 - 01:18 PM Robby me zon !!! Don't be runnin down the Moose. Nex' ting ye'll be callin us New Bruswickers mainlanders... da shame !! Barkeep, a round o Black Horse for me an me Granite Planet buddies. And crank up some Rawlins Cross to cam the waters. A bit o Reel an Roll fer da byes. Give er some. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 19 Jul 01 - 01:23 PM Ye got tongues n cheeks ere ? F*** the beer... a plate o tongues an a bot'le o Dock... only in Newfoundland, you say ? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Lonesome EJ Date: 19 Jul 01 - 01:24 PM Of all the seedy, lowlife-infested Canuck borderbars he had ever entered, this Hoser Tavern took the griddlecake. The bartender had a profile like the Alaskan Coastline with a half-smoked cigar sticking out of Anchorage. To his left, a drunken silver-haired sot was coming on to a one-legged transvestite with a Maple Leaf tattoo on his right arm. Two inbred slobbering sycophants in toques were trying to talk a bear into driving them home. It was the grimmest environment Madison had submerged himself in since the refueling ship ran aground on a coral reef in Cam Ranh Bay, and Blake had been dispatched to patch the gash with a canvas tarpaulin and a fistful of dry wall screws. "What'll ya have, eh?" said the leering bartender, his good eye impaling Madison with a stare as hard and pointed as a rusty ice pick. "Four Roses neat," said Madison. He peeled a Fifty out of his money clip and slid it through the thick film of beer, peanut husks, and bear slobber that coated the bar top like Elmer's School Paste. "Keep the change." "Mighty big tip for a guy in a Sears polo shirt," said the bartender with a grin that made Ernest Borgnine look like the Mona Lisa. "Last tip I had this big was when Alan Thicke was stuck in town 'ere wit a broke fuel pump on his Jaguar and he come in 'ere tryin' to score some Ecstacy. You a druggy too?" "No. I'm a drunk. But what I need is information. I'm looking for a one-armed lumberjack named Pierre Benoit. My last address for him is a cabin twelve miles north of here along Saltwater Creek." "Then go there. But you better take some artillery." "Been there. Nothing but a slab foundation with some black timber leaning on it. Still smoking. I want to know where he is now." "I'm right 'ere, Monsieur Deeck." Before Madison could spin around on his barstool, Benoit had caught him across the bridge of the nose with a fist like a bag of gravel. Madison was aware of the noise it made as the punch landed...it sounded like a watermelon rolling off a flat bed truck and hitting the highway. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 19 Jul 01 - 02:48 PM Wha's dat 'angashore h'in da trenchcoat 'up to? Looks like da yankee sailor from da base in Argentia dat used to date me aunt Sadie. I figgers Beniot can 'andle 'em doh. 'e takes ta fightin like a beater to da water. Moose 'ead is powerful good I recommends it to folks 'oo 'aven't work dere way 'up to 'orse or London Dock. Da stomach needs a little conditionin to 'andle dat stuff. I see you're drinkin the 100 proof dock Mr H'african H'antelope. So you must drink Moose 'ead for da taste. New Brunswick eh? Got eider shipment from St. Pierre? I'm out of "duty free" cigarettes. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 19 Jul 01 - 06:49 PM Got me "Pete's" comin in September mont. Only drinks da dock now n agin. Old stomach, Old Sam, I always says. BTW, buddy, I only drinks Moose at the end a da night, if ya knows what I mean. Don't get a shock on, but I drinks Bud Light. Dey're de only brewers dat gives money to the IRA... I mean, the NRA. Gee... I needs anudder. Make dis round a Blue Star, would e keep ? Nay, spel dat... Alpine... dat'll separate da men from da byes. If e can drink Alpine and still clear nets a morrow, yer eider use to er or galvanized. Where's dat fellah wit da gravel mits ? We'll set n up wit Liza out da pit an see how e fares, eh ? WHERE'S them Toungues ?? Dat lit'le mouse s got m all gone as e ? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 19 Jul 01 - 07:47 PM Jack who was ever inch drunk: "Jeez, Dat little mouse shore can pack away da tongues! Abn 'e likes da stewed cod cheeks too! H'alpine h'is it? H'I didn't tink it would come to dis but we're breakin' h'out da Dominion H'ale. Just keep da path clear to da lavatory i da mornin'! H'okay skipper, ya you behind da bar. Two h'alpine for every one den keep da Dominion comin' till dere's no one left standin. An' bring us a bottle a Screech and a large codfish. I don't tink dat mouse has ever been screeched in." |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 19 Jul 01 - 07:51 PM Peal dat bell, bye. Da mouse won't never squeak agin ! See ya's all a morrow. I'm goin solid. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST,Cretinous Yahoo Date: 19 Jul 01 - 08:07 PM Sometone should have warned the silver haired gent about "Patty the Pirate". She cant feel a thing in that leg! Here, let me show you how it's done old timer. Suave and debonair yahoo approaches a likely looking young lady at the bar, "Hello beautiful, How do you like your eggs in the morning"? Likely looking young lady, "Unfertilized"!! Well, you cant lose them all. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: kendall Date: 19 Jul 01 - 08:32 PM No man ever need to be a failure, he can always serve as a bad example. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 20 Jul 01 - 07:35 AM Kendall... priceless ! CarolC... sorry for the threadjack. Or was it ? Perhaps that was an East Coast version of your topic. Shockin 'osers we are. Now, where's dat fish ? Anyone for a Screechin in ? Where'd da wee moose get to ?
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 20 Jul 01 - 01:58 PM Da wee moose is nare 'andy, is e ? I'd say CarolC, 'oo started this 'os'in t'read needs a Screechin, but traditional style. None 'o dis weenie one tot an' yer in. A quart 'n a cod, I say. Der she goes fer da door. 'ol up maid !!! Stays where yer at til I comes where yer to. If 'e wants to be a Newfie 'oser, der's Screechin t' do. 'ere 'e man enough, fair maid ? Or 'ere 'e a wee moose ? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 20 Jul 01 - 02:06 PM The mouse on the bar noticed something fall from Madison's pocket as he fell to the floor from the trapper's punch. In a flash he scrambled to the floor, belched once, grabbed the small golden object, and darted through a hole in the wainscoting. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 20 Jul 01 - 03:18 PM (Hi, gnu... naw, I love the maritime banter. I haven't posted because I'm such a hoser, my brain siezed up! The mecanic said he'd have it fixed later today or tomorrow.) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 20 Jul 01 - 03:33 PM Well now. If e brain's siezed up, it's proper time for a traditional Screechin cause she won't make no never mind. We could even bend the rules an let e ave at er wi' a small bot'le ( the t is silent, just like in "wi'" ). But e better make e mind up cause dat fish ain't gettin any fresher. E gets any older and e's bait. Pucker up, my dear. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 20 Jul 01 - 04:38 PM I performed a "Screech-in" of a group of Japanese fish buyers once. They were more than good sports. Have you ever seen a grown man french-kiss a codfish? You would remember it if you did. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 20 Jul 01 - 04:51 PM (Aaaaaakkkkkkk!!!!!!!!) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 21 Jul 01 - 01:38 AM I think her brain is now at least partially repaired. So, how about some French music instead of french-kissing dead fish? *Hands Carol some music for "Accordeon"* |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 21 Jul 01 - 02:25 AM Coffee drinking Carol took up the accordion case sitting on the floor at the foot of the bar stool and, sheet music in hand, she walked slowly to the stage. Her lips twitched and foamed a bit, and every few feet she stopped, shuddered, and spit out a bit of fish tongue.
When she reached the stage, she shook herself and stood up tall and straight. ("Since when did fish have tongues?", she thought.) The stage had a stool and a chair under the spotlights. Coffee drinking Carol put the accordion case down next to the stool. Standing before the chair, she began taking off her foul weather gear.
First, there was the shiny yellow rain hat with the broad brim for shedding rain off her neck. Then she took off the shiny, bright yellow rain slicker, and then the huge black foul weather boots. But under this clothing, there was another layer of foul weather gear. And she peeled that one off too. And she kept peeling off layer after layer until this remarkably small women shrunk to an unbelievably small size.
And she stood straight (and as tall as she could), took the accordion out of it's case, arranged the sheet music on top of the huge pile of slickers on the chair, sat down (or rather, up, sort of) on the stool, and began to play.
The beautiful and haunting strains of "Les Croissants pour les hosers des Mudchat", a piece written just for accordion by the dancer with the Atherly Arms T-shirt and the video of the '72 series stuck in her pants, filled the room ...along with the aroma of bear sweat, dumpster effluent, vomit, beer, and aging cod fish. The bear covered his ears and groaned...
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 21 Jul 01 - 02:52 AM By Jingos Carol, ye did it wrong, yer supposed to drink enough screech so dat ye don't taste da cod. h'or h'anyting h'else fer about a munt. Ya, das right, a munt! Tirty days! Here finish dis h'off til h'I goes h'and gits more. Carol bravely finishes the quart of screech then picks up her concertina and does a stiring rendition of "Ecouté de ma Derierre" followed by "Pierre dans le Tete de moi" and "Votre Mere et gros". Some little known french reels from L'ecole des Loonette. Jack comes back with a case of London Dock 100 and they settle in for some real drinkin. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 21 Jul 01 - 01:24 PM Well H'I wanted to do h'anodder screech-in but da bear just h'ate da cod. H'I 'ate h'it when dat 'appens. Me ship h'is sailin' wit da tide so h'im h'off. Fare well everyone! Long may yer big jibs draw!!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 21 Jul 01 - 04:07 PM So am I an honourary Newfie now? Now that I've kissed the fish? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 21 Jul 01 - 05:06 PM Yep, a virtual one at least ;) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 21 Jul 01 - 06:02 PM This is indeed a proud day for me. I can now add to my status as an honourary Orillian (by virtue of writing a limerick about Orillia and recieving the title of Ms McGill 2001 and recieving the key to the municipal porta-potty), and my status as an honourary Canadian (by virtue of having an obsession with outdoor toilets), this most coveted of statuses, honourary Newfie.
I shall wear this honour with pride and as much dignity as possible under the circumstances.
(How long does it take for the fish stink to wear off, anyway?) Bartender! A round of Black Horse for all of my friends here, and a little extra for the bear, eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River Date: 21 Jul 01 - 08:09 PM Holey flippin loonywhackers and dog bite my pecker! This is flipp8in heaven on the haffshell,eh? Where the flip have i been? Hey, I been to the ATherly ARms, eh? The girls their are not all skanks. NOt oall of em eh? You can, like quote me,eh? I am gonna go and get my brother Don and the rest of the band and F-in ROCK THIS JOINT!!! Descent and then some! - BDiBR |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 22 Jul 01 - 10:22 AM Rock ?? No no no. I'm going to have to leave. I'm moving slower than a Blue Heron. The shishkabobs were delicious. The beer was cold. The weather was perfect. The water fight was refreshing. The conversation was side-splitting. The beach bunnies were distracting. The fireworks were great. The piper was in fine form. The bonfire on the beach was excellent. The tunes were fantastic. Then, at midnight, some idiot (who, BTW, was not imbibing... SOB) yelled, "Fireball Whiskey Shooters all around !!" I was the only vertical being when I left at 0630. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 22 Jul 01 - 05:00 PM How's your head there, gnu? Well, since the bear ate the cod fish, maybe we can make them kiss Blind Drunk in Blind River to screech them in... |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 22 Jul 01 - 10:39 PM I'm sure he'd be really pleased to do that, Carol. Too bad you're already an honourary Newfie, eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 23 Jul 01 - 01:41 PM Thanks for asking CarolC. My head is just fine.... of course, it's now 1440h Monday. Yesterday was a diiferent kettle of fish. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 23 Jul 01 - 03:18 PM The battered econoline van rattled and coughed its way around the corner and shuddered to a momentary halt, belching clouds of oily exhaust from the dangling and corroded tailpipe. Shane Mc----, otherwise known as Blind DRunk in Blind River, peered through the cracked and filthy windshield, squinting his pale blue eyes..."Geez, look at that, Don! There's a flippin bear tryin' to get inta the McGill over there!" "That's a flippin' GRIZZLY, man!" said Don, pushing back his Blue Jays baseball cap. "This must be the place, eh?" "Decent!" exclaimed Shane. "Man, that bear is, like, huge, eh? I wisht I had my BB machine gun handy, and I would give it to him right in the ass, eh?" "Gimme a break, you loser!" retorted Don. The last time you tried that, man, you was, like, in the lake for an hour freezin' yer balls off." "Yeah, well, I would, like, plan ahead this time, and don't call me a loser eh? I'll flippin' pound ya!" "Yeah? I'd like to see ya flippin' try!" Don was getting a strange sense of deja vu...had he had this conversation with Shane before...once or twice? Or a thousand times? He shook his head to clear the CO fumes that had been drifting up through the holes in the floor, and tried to remember which part came next... "Hey, look, man! The F-in bear is goin' back inta the bar. Let's go! They've got back bacon, eh?" Don wrenched the van back in gear and coaxed it into the parking lot, where it gratefully died. A vile smell was drifting on the wind. "Geez, man, what did you eat?" groaned Shane, glaring at his brother accusingly. "Up yours, bolthole!" retorted Don casually. They got out of the van. Shane was a classically oafish looking young Canadian, probably about 26 or thereabouts, dressed in jeans, a dirty T-shirt, work boots, and a really disgusting old windbreaker. He had a Leafs cap on his head...backwards, of course. His hair was about shoulder length, unkempt, greasy, and dirty blonde in colour. He also sported a medium-sized mustache, poorly trimmed, and about a week's growth of stubble. Don was fairly similar in appearance, but with a short beard, and he was clearly at least a couple of years older. He was beginning to get a receding hairline, and usually took pains to cover it up with his own Blue Jays' cap, also worn backwards. He had an Iron Maiden T-shirt on, and a tattoo that said "Born Wasted" on his right bicep. The bear had vanished into the Tavern. Don and Shane adjusted their baseball caps for maximun effect and strode up to the front door. "Losers first," said Shane, gallantly, gesturing at the handle, and grinning. "Yeah, right!" said Don, sarcastically. He opened the door. "Last one in is a gapless retread...retread!" Blind River had officially arrived. - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 24 Jul 01 - 12:19 PM "Smell da freshness h'of da h'open sea" Says Jack. In his hand is the largest codfish caught on the Altantic coast isnce the 1920's "Pucker h'up folks! H'I got annodder one. h'I h'also brung h'us a scoff. In the wooden bed of his 1984 F100 is a big boiler (cooking pot) and a dory filled to the gunnels with mussels. "Git me a couple a black 'orse til H'i starts boilin' 'em h'up! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jim Cheydi Date: 24 Jul 01 - 12:29 PM Two pints of lager and a packet of crisps please. I got fed up waiting at the other place. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 24 Jul 01 - 12:40 PM "Watch out for the F-in bear..." warned Shane as he followed his big brother through the entrance. It was smoky and dim inside. Johnny Death looked up from his "Unreleased Elvis" journal, and did his famous scowl-cum-rueful grin. "Talk about yer f**king low-lifes," he muttered. "The neighborhood just lost 20% of its market value." "I'll have a beer," said Shane, winking at the waitress. "Make it an Export, unless ya got Warthog Ale." "Same here," said Don. "No wait, what's the bear drinkin'?" "He's a Molson Golden drinker," she replied. "Geez!" exclaimed Don. "The good smooth ale, eh? That explains the massive gut on that flipper. How many has he downed?" "35." "That's nothin'," said Shane. "I can drink Golden till it's comin' outta my ears. I chugged 56 Golden once. Golden is for simps and wussies!" "Why don't you talk to the bear about it?" said the waitress, sarcastically. "I just might do that," blustered Shane. He stayed on his barstool, however, stalling for time. "Hey look! There's some chick with a F-in accordion," said Don, nudging Shane gleefully in the ribs. "You gotta be kiddin'. They don't allow accordions in this kinda place. Accordions are only for Mafia parties and funerals. And they give em to the new arrivals in Hell too." At that very moment, coffee-drinking Carol started to play. It was a classical piece. Nothing grates on the ears of hosers like classical music. It can drive them to acts of sheer madness... "Flip me with a wire brush," groaned Shane. "Where's the F-in jukebox?" He dug in his pockets and fished out a loonie, 2 toonies, and some Canadian Tire money, and made a beeline for the jukebox. "Dig this, man!" They got "Highway to Hell" on here. AWWW-RIGHTTTT!!!" Within seconds a flood of heavy metal music was pouring out of the machine, almost (but not quite) drowning out the dulcet strains of Carol's accordion. Johhny Death scowled more darkly than ever. He hated heavy metal, even more than he hated most post-1965 music. "When I become dictator for life," he thought, "I will have all the heavy metal musicians executed and their bodies ground up for fertilizer." He smiled wistfully at the thought. - LH
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:00 PM The bear eats the jukebox. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:17 PM The bear burps, then eats Shane! He begins to eyes Don, who makes a hasty retreat for the front door. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:28 PM The mouse reappears on the bar with a beautiful golden collar around his neck. He orders three fingers of two cents plain and jumps into the bowl of beer nuts. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:30 PM "Hey!!! What the flip!" yells Shane, as the jukebox vanishes down the bear's gullet, giving a last distorted metallic shriek. "AWESOME!!!!" comes a cry of delight from the dancer in the Atherley Arms T-shirt. "You loser!" Shane rages, jumping up and down and spilling beer all over the place. "I paid for that f**kin' song!" He winds up and flings his beer bottle at Gordon Heavyfoot's head. Fortunately his aim is bad. Instead of hitting the bear, it sails just past his ear and crashes into a tray of pickled eggs. Eggs fly everywhere. The 2 hosers who were eating the eggs both yell "Hey, TAKE OFF, eh?" and start to get up out of their chairs. This is an effort indicating considerable irritation on their part. "Shane," gasps Don, grabbing his little brother by the arm, "look at them guys! Look at their toques!" Shane's jaw drops. A little drool of beer foam drifts down his chin. His eyes open up really wide. His mustache quivers... "Holy Plotz", he breathes. "It can't flippin' be...but it is..." He walks up to the 2 hosers as if in a trance...Don's hand is frozen to his shoulder... "You guys are Doug and Bob, aintcha?" says Shane. "You spilled our eggs, eh?" says Doug accusingly. Shane and Don instantly fall to their knees on the beer-stained barroom floor. "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!" they chant. Doug and Bob stare at them wordlessly. Somewhere in the distance a wildcat growls, and Chicago is still flat and ugly. - LH
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:37 PM A boiled egg flies across the room; the mouse ducks and it lands harmlessly on the floor behind the bar. The mouse lies on his back in the beer nuts, flinging them into the air, and attempting to catch them in his mouth. But his incisors are too big, and they invariably bounce against a tooth and skitter across the bar. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:48 PM "Hey, don't make a scene, eh?" advises Bob. "I thought the bear ate this guy, eh?" says Doug, indicating Shane. Shane and Don begin to recover a little. Shane is apologizing all over himself about the eggs, and Don is asking for an autograph. "You guys are, like, living legends, eh?" he gushes. "You're the flippin' McKenzie Brothers!" "Well, I guess...so, like, who are you?" retorts Doug. Shane pulls himself together and announces with some pride: "I am Blind DRunk in Blind River, man!" "I hate to tell you this, hoser, but this ain't Blind River," says Bob, opening a beer. "That's my internet name, man! Blind DRunk in Blind River. I am the most famous hoser on the whole flippin' Net, man...well, except for you and Doug, that is..." "Yeah?" says Doug. "How many beers can you chug?" "Enough to put you under!" retorts Shane. "Try me!" "You're on! How about Canadian, eh?" "Suits me. Line em up!" "We should do the 99 Bottles," says Don. "Beauty, eh?" says Bob. "99 bottles it is!" The bear completely forgotten in the heat of the action, the 4 lads gather around a massive stack of Molson Canadian. "Crack the first one!" commands Doug. Pop! Four caps fly in the air. "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer...take one down (chug!), pass it around (chug!)...ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall" 4 voices ring out lustily, verse after verse, as the boys forge steadily into the slowly diminishing mountain of beer bottles. A pile of caps is slowly rising to shin level on the floor. The song goes on and on, increasingly tuneless, increasingly ragged, but still unmistakeable in its relentless repetition. The girl in the Atherley Arms T-shirt groans and leaves the room. Johnny Death thinks fondly of his shotgun, which is sitting at home in the closet. Gordon goes outside to check the dumpster. Chicago is still flat and ugly. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:55 PM The bowl of beer-nuts is empty. That is, it no longer has any beer nuts. They are scattered across the bar. It does contain one small rodent, however. It has passed out from being hit on the head by an exceptionally large beer-nut. It is murmuring in its sleep, "Molson. Molson. Molson." |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 24 Jul 01 - 01:56 PM And Doug REALLY has to pee! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:02 PM Bob, Doug Shane & Don: 56 bottles of beer on the wall.... Jack: "H'I got da first batch h'of mussels ready! Dere's 94 dere h'all ready to h'eat! Bob, Doug Shane & Don: 93 bottles of beer on the wall.... |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:06 PM Ha! Ha! Ha! I like that, Jack! - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:07 PM In walks two of Canada's most impressive exports, Pamela Anderson. Jack:"Pam! Me darling! We got a question for you......" |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:21 PM "66 bottles of beer on the wall, 66 bottles of...uhhh...geez! That looks like Pamela Anderson, eh?" Shane's eye's are riveted to Pamela's general frontal area. Could this be a hallucination? "Don't lose count, man" advises Don, blearily. "We got 'em on the run." "No way, hoser," says Bob. Me and Doug are the champs at chugging, eh?" The pile of Molson Canadian has definitely been reduced noticeably. "Look, man, I have gotta talk to Pamela. This could be my one lucky break to the big time," pleads Shane. "Let's just take 5 and then I'll be back." "Look man," says Don, "Ya gotta ask yourself...what is MORE IMPORTANT....fame, fortune, and all the sex you can handle...or holding your beer???" Shane thinks hard. His brow knots with concentration. Beads of sweat dot his brow. "Pass me the next one, man..."
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:23 PM Jimmy, me zon !!! I ardered yer arder fer ye. Nare come or wha ? Or ere ye jus finag'lin yer way to anudder round on da generosity of a kind eart ? Ya know... ye never ardered nutting fer me in return las round. I'm beginnin ta wonner bout e. Wass wi' dem fellers what's chuggin n singing ? Uppity Canucks, no ? An wass wi' da touques n all ? It's 32 ina shade n shockin close. Back ome, skipper, dis is unnershirt wedder. An why come is da mouse lyin dere sayin for a Molson n noone cares for e's dead or alive ? Be da Lard Dyin Geeziz people. Ave e no compassion ? Pour a Molson over da little fellah n wake n up.... on my tab keep. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:48 PM "H'is dat tirty too degrees sausages? H'i never did git used to dat metrics system. H'ive never seen h'it dat 'ot cept in da h'engine room of me punt." Ot enough to boil a monkey's bum! "H'i shore luvs dat h'acoordeen! Play H'us "I'se Da Bye" til I dances a little jig!" |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:52 PM Watch da wee mouse now if yer gonna ave a scuff !!! Don't want e steppin on n. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 24 Jul 01 - 02:59 PM BARKEEP... double, dark n dirty fer me old trout Jack. An e keeps em comin til e can't scuff anudder. Same fer dat "Wee 'awk" fellah. E strings a good yarn. Wish I could stay lads, but company'l be at my spot for a session short so's I gotta get out the Royal Chinet spiffy like. An fer goodness sake... someone clean an shore up dat mouse... e's an awful state, e is !!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 24 Jul 01 - 03:12 PM Suddenly the mouse wakes up, goggle-eyed and looking like half the Royal Canadian Mounted Police are chasing him on horseback, and the other half are playing lacrosse using his aunt Suzy as the ball. "Molson!" he cries out, staggers from the bowl, trips on a beer nut, and crashes face-first onto the bar. The ring is dislodged from his neck, rolls across the bar (weaving in and out among the beer nuts), falls to the floor, and rolls into a crevice, out of reach to human fingers. "Mae ring!" shouts the mouse, and he (unsteadily) heads to the edge of the bartop in pursuit. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 24 Jul 01 - 03:13 PM The accordion player's ears are still ringing from the heavy metal that had recently been blaring from the juke box.
Just before the juke box episode she heard someone with a british accent ask for two pints of lager and a packet of crisps. She motions to one of the patrons sitting near the stage, and whispers something in his ear. He goes off in search of the bartender. And seeing that the thirsty looking customer has been taken care of, she begins playing "I'se Da Bye" for the nice man with the cod fish, who cuts a mean jig.
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: mousethief Date: 24 Jul 01 - 03:14 PM That's no cod fish; he's just glad to see you! :-P |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 24 Jul 01 - 03:28 PM Well in that case, I'm glad to see him too! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 24 Jul 01 - 03:41 PM The boys have by now completely lost count of how many beers they have chugged. Doug: "I make it 72..." Bob: "Take off, hosehead! It's 67!" Shane: "No it ain't! It's 95. I got 5 beers ta go." Don: "Yer a flippin' liar! You never got past 58 beer and you know it!" Shane: "You callin' me a liar?" Don: "Does a skunk smell?" Shane: "Nobody calls me a liar! I'd kill my own brother if he called me a liar!" Don: "I am yer flippin' brother, loser! Or didja forget?" Shane (getting up, albeit unsteadily...): "Okay, that's it! Step outside, jerkball!" Don: (shaking up a beer vigorously, while covering the top with his other hand) "Ya sure ya got enough energy to make it outside, dipwad?" Shane takes a swing at Don, just as Don uncovers the beer, which squirts all over Shane and Bob. Everybody starts yelling. The 2 brothers grapple and knock over the entire table full of Molson Canadian. The McKenzie brothers scramble to save the beer. Don and Shane roll around on the floor, upsetting chairs and scuffling and swearing. Johhny Death raises a cheer, hoping Don and Shane will kill or at least maim each other. Gordon Heavyfoot wakes up to the sounds of combat and panics. His eyesight is none too good, due to the effects of a case or 2 of Molson Golden, and he mistakes the wooden cigar store Indian figure at the corner of the bar for his old nemesis, Chief Crowfoot. He charges it with a roar. The bar patrons scatter in all directions. Don and Shane are now tangled up in the side doorway, while Doug and Bob are attempting to abscond with the remaining beer. Gordon reaches his objective and gives the wooden Indian a mighty swat with his left paw, sufficient to propel it skyward toward the large screen TV that is suspended over the bar. Chief Crowfoot meets the Montreal Expos at centerfield and takes out the TV tube in an explosion of glass and ozone. Johnny Death applauds and orders a double. All the lights go out.
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 24 Jul 01 - 04:20 PM Jack flicks his Bic. "Good ting h'its still daylight. H'I'll h'open da blinds. h'I'm gonna go Up-a-long to T'ronto h'and take dat Rick Fielding moose 'untin'. H'I knows what yer tinkin! Moose 'untin' is not a sport! H'if da moose 'ad guns, den it would be a sport!" G'bye for now everyone. Long may yer big jibs draw!!!" |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: DougR Date: 24 Jul 01 - 06:24 PM While all this mayhem is going on, Doug sidels up next to Pamela. She chugs a Molson and turns to him. "So, handsome, what's up?" Doug, without giving it a second thought glanced down to be sure nothing was. "Er ..ah..Ms. Anderson, I'd like to ask you a personal question." "Which is?" "My friend Shane is much taken with you ma'mam. He's particularly intrigued with your ...er ...ah...front." "So?" "Well, my friend wants to know ...is your navel natural?" "My navel?" "Yeah, Shane said your front really turned him on and I can't think what else it might be." "Next think you'll want to know if it's a inny or a outee." "No, Ms. Anderson, I'd never ask anything as personal as that!" At that point Shane edges between Doug and Pamela. Doug slinks off to the head. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 25 Jul 01 - 12:37 AM Bob whispers in Pamela's ear and she giggles. As she and the Mackenzies leave the bar Doug calls back over his shoulder."Were going to get some doughnuts. eh?" "Yeah Beer Flavoured Doughnuts." "Beauty!" "Beauty!" "Beauty!" |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 08 Dec 01 - 02:12 PM 'ere it is December mont an nare a joke bout dat codpiece !! Too easy or wha ? Jimmy bye, did ye get yer crisps yet ? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 08 Dec 01 - 04:44 PM Well, it's been a long time since July, and Shane is still a "bolthole". At least that's what Don says. Shane says Don is a "retread" and a "flippin' loser". They are both dead right. Gordon Heavyfoot left the bar and has gotten a job at a local farm that runs a petting zoo. The McKenzie Brothers are probably in California. Ditto for Pamela Anderson. Shane is still hoping to meet Shania Twain. "She would fall for me in a second, man...", he's been heard to say. Shane lives in a world of his own, like most of us. They have opened up another Tim Hortons shop in Blind River. You can now walk less than 500 feet in any given direction, and bump into a Tim Hortons shop. This is handy for lazy people who don't like to walk very far to get their daily fix of caffeine and sugar. "The only thing is, they ain't got beer, and you can't smoke in there either," complains Shane. As you can see, not much has really changed north of the border... - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 08 Dec 01 - 11:02 PM Ten competitors waited their turn to sing in the The Half Dead Ted Tavern For Hosers and Back Bacon Cafe singing competition. One or two stood out as being pretty good. The dancer in the Atherly Arms t-shirt sang a hauntingly beautiful song about a garden. And the hoser with the harmonicas did an interesting little blues number. The rest tried their best not to embarass themselves, and they came close. The last contestant got up on stage. The hoser with the baggy pants stood uneasily on the stage with a pained look on his face. He'd swallowed part of a pretzle the wrong way and it was lodged in his throat. He wanted to get out of the competition but the bouncer wouldn't give his five dollar fee back when he tried to withdraw. "Dammit" he thought. If I can't have my money back, they're just going have to suffer with me.
He opened his mouth and the sound that came out of it was like empty cans being dragged behind a pickup truck. Someone said it sounded like Tom Waits singing "Brown Eyed Girl". Three people in the audience left because of migraines. An ambulance arrived in the middle of the song to pick up one of the other contestants who appeard to have suddenly succumbed to a psychotic episode. When the baggy pants hoser was finished, the room was in shock. Never in the history of The Half Dead Ted Tavern For Hosers and Back Bacon Cafe singing comptetion had anyone sounded this bad.
Until Half Dead Ted himself showed up. Legends of Half Dead Ted's singing were whispered in dark corners and behind dumpsters. Everyone in town knew the legends, but nobody alive could remember ever having heard him sing. By the end of his song, everyone who hadn't been anesthetized with copious amounts of alcohol (which was almost everyone), was unconscious on the floor. Half Dead Ted lost the competition by a long shot. The Atherly Arms dancer turned to the baggy pants singer and said, "You really are a loser. You can't even hold on to last place". |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 09 Dec 01 - 10:18 AM Hey, c'mon, Carol! Flattop's singing isn't that<\i> bad... :-) I have never heard Half-Dead Ted sing at all. - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 09 Dec 01 - 02:20 PM First prize was a cod fish. (No. He's a good singer except when he's got a pretzel lodged in his throat.) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 15 Dec 01 - 10:11 PM Oh, my COD!!!!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST,Canuck Date: 16 Dec 01 - 02:24 AM Carol: the origin of words is etymology etiology has to do with causes |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 16 Dec 01 - 02:33 AM You know, GUEST,Canuck, I actually do appreciate you pointing that out. However five months is an awful long time to have to wait to get corrected, don't you think?You need to start paying better attention. ;-) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Amergin Date: 16 Dec 01 - 02:46 AM Carol...you must forgive him...he is Canadian...they are not that quick on the uptake, eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 16 Dec 01 - 02:52 AM I don't know, Amergin... most of the sharpest minds I know live inside of Canadian heads. I think s/he was just sleeping on the job. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 16 Dec 01 - 05:16 PM Shane says Amergin is a "flippin' loser". Of course, Shane says that about almost everyone, eh? "Hoser" is long out of date around here. "Loser" is, like, the favoured expression now. Oh, and "like" too, eh? Gotta throw the word "like" into, like, every sentence at least once or twice, whether it's, like, necessary or not, eh? Buncha flippin' losers! - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 21 Dec 01 - 03:35 PM Yeah, we may be sharp, but sleep is important, especially in the winter, eh? Don't know what that guest was doing sleeping on the job in the last few months, though. *g* |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River Date: 21 Dec 01 - 05:30 PM Yeah, you know whene you're, like, tryin' to, like, get a bit of shuteye, eh? And the flippin' phone keeps, like, ringin', eh? And so, like, you were just nodding off and it rings, eh? Or you were, like, havin' a dreem about Pamela Anderson, eh? She's like in a wet T-shirt contest...only it's, like, a bit too cold, eh, and so her little glasscutters are gettin just as hard as...know what I mean? And the flippin' phone rings and wakes you up. Major flippin' drag! The last time it happened, I like ripped the flippin' thing off the wall and flushed it down the john. Well, I tryed to, but it, like, got stuck, eh? It don't work at all now. Neether does the john. This place is a flippin' dump, and no one like cares, eh? Don sure as flip dusnt. He's a total retread who dusnt know shit from execrament. Somebuyddy is to blame fer all of this and when I find out whoo they are gonna pay!!! BDiBR |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 21 Dec 01 - 09:45 PM You're too late, Shane. It was the Taliban who did it! Trust me. :-) - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST Date: 03 Jan 02 - 02:32 PM REFRESH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 03 Jan 02 - 05:53 PM Well! That was certainly refreshing, eh? - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 06 Sep 02 - 12:52 AM Months later a large jolly sailor and a beautiful little woman carrying an accordion case enter the dark tavern. They turn on the lights and look around. "'ow about 'ere?" he asks. "It can use some sprucing up." Says she. "den we best git to h'it den! Says he. They start picking up debris and begin to prepare for a wedding. "H'oops! I h'almost stepped on da mouse!"
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: MMario Date: 06 Sep 02 - 08:38 AM Bleary eyed, a gentleman(?)dressed in renaissance peasant style pokes his head through the loose shutters of the window (the glass has long vanished - gone who knows where) and peers through the dim interior. "Could choose some worse places to get married then this tavern," he commented. " A little clean-up, a few decorations, pack it wall to wall with friends and things should go off quite well... The moose-head over the bar has GOT to go though..." |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Little Hawk Date: 06 Sep 02 - 10:44 AM Totally decent, man! Looks like the tavern has a new lease on life, eh? Gotta go and tell Shane right away...he is no doubt in need of a free beer or two. - LH |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Amos Date: 06 Sep 02 - 12:14 PM Ach, you guys crack me oop, no lie!! Buncha hoseheads!! A |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: MAG Date: 06 Sep 02 - 11:33 PM So who's getting married?? And since that is a virtual dance floor, I'll sound my perpetual cry for any male who can waltz properly ... |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 07 Sep 02 - 07:05 AM Lard t'underin Jaysus !!! Da Newf han da Southern Belle are tyin da knot. I've only one question... can da riffraff loik meself stay han watch da proceedings ? No drum rolls... I promise.... well, during the ceremony, but, after dat, well, I'm gonna tar up da skin hin celebration. A round for da ouse on me ! To da bride n groom !!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 07 Sep 02 - 07:11 AM Nudder question. His Carol now alf or tree quar'ers oser ? Han, his Jack still hevery hinch da sailor, marryin a mainlander n all ? And WHERE IS dat wee mouse !!?? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 07 Sep 02 - 08:39 AM 'ello Mr h'antalope! Tanks for da blackhorse. Cleanin' dis place h'is h'a tirsty job! 'specially cleanin' h'up after dat bear! Da way h'i figgers it is like dis. Carol, bein' born h'in da Boston States, and h'on h'an h'island to boot, h'already got one foot h'in da water. She been schreeched h'in h'in dis very pub. So she got no troubles wit 'er Newfie credentials. Me, well das h'a nudder question! But h'I'll h'always 'ave salt water in me blood! 'ere 'elp me move dis pool table willya?
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River Date: 07 Sep 02 - 02:06 PM Ya flippin' Newf! Get a Oxferd speling comaipanion, loser! (Yuk! yuk!) Just kiddin' eh? I like like Newfies eh coz trhey usually lend me smokes. I ain't nver rerfused a lent smoke eh? Listen man this thred was made in the first place to make me famous eh? As I rightly shood be! I am a seshual legend around orhtern Ontario eh? Hey! Anybody want me to show how fast I can chug one? Line em up eh! Decent! SHANE IS BACK ON TAP!!! Rumors of my death by the bear have like been exagerarated eh? BDiBR p.s. I woulda married CarolC but I am holdin out for Shania Twain. Tough luck, Carol! (Arf! Arf!) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 07 Sep 02 - 02:15 PM Southern Belle!?! For shame, Mr. h'african h'antelope! I'm a maritimer from New England! The good salt water of the Atlantic flows in my veins, just like you and JtS! Sorry Shane, I just got tired of waiting for you, eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 07 Sep 02 - 02:21 PM (P.S., gnu... you have to stay for the proceedings! We need you to hold the cod fish!) |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 08 Sep 02 - 06:58 AM Nare a sweat ta dat maid ! But Jack, da pool table is hout hon account o me back bein so sore from stoopin an peekin fer dat wee mouse. Besides, it'll make a nice haltar so's hall can view da proceedins. Just make sure hall da balls han cues his hoff her. Sorry about accusin da bride o bein ha mainlander. I didn't know (remember ?) yee were born honna hisland. Han Jack me zon, I was only teasin. Bein from New Brunswick, I bin accused (teased) o worse by me buddies from the Granite Planet. KEEP ! : Nudder round o Black 'orse on me.... make mine a Blue Star. Where's da Keep gone to now ? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 08 Sep 02 - 09:26 AM Yep!! She was barn hon ha h'island h'alright! Rhode H'island! Come h'on ya angashore! can't ye see da wheels h'on 'er? ;-) Jus 'elp me steer 'er inta da carner! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: gnu Date: 09 Sep 02 - 05:42 AM Wheels !!?? Dat's why I spent so much time honnna floor lass night ! An me gonna cut down hon me drinkin ! Dat was close zir. Still, ye better man da bow else we'll end up honna bar. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 09 Sep 02 - 11:40 AM Well! das done! Time to reward ourselves wit beer!!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: MMario Date: 09 Sep 02 - 11:46 AM Rhode Island *is* quite a bit south of Newfoundland - and gets more of the Gulf Stream then the Newfoundland Current - because of that "sticky out bit" attached to Massachusetts. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: CarolC Date: 09 Sep 02 - 11:51 AM Ok, MMario. But if I'm a Southern Belle, I guess that makes a Cape Codder like you a Southern Gent. Pass me a Mint Julep, eh? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 09 Sep 02 - 12:31 PM Does Sam Adams make Bourbon? |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: MMario Date: 09 Sep 02 - 12:52 PM Here's the julep! Used to have a down-easter friend that referred to Cape Cod as "the west". |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: hesperis Date: 10 Sep 02 - 12:49 PM A small, slender, dark-haired girl in an Atherley Arms t-shirt enters the tavern. (Note - the t-shirt is NOT wet this time!) Going up to the bar, she hugs Carol, then orders a rum'n'coke. |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Jack the Sailor Date: 10 Sep 02 - 12:57 PM Im likes yer t-shirt!! h'Adderley h'Arms!!! Dats where da byes is takin' me da week before da wedding. I 'ere dey got good pool tables!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: MMario Date: 10 Sep 02 - 01:05 PM *peers into the kitchen, sniffing at the aromas rising from the old fashioned range Hey! There's jigg's dinner on! and a big pot of stew with dumplings, and sniff smells like bangbelly in the oven... |
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Hoser Tavern From: Willie-O Date: 10 Sep 02 - 03:45 PM Y,know, I once had a very interesting folkie type experience in a tavern in Blind River, but I don't think this tavern is there naymore. Nay never. |