[gazmungus]

Kai, on Oct 29 2005, 11:21 PM, said:

Whenever the airwaves are plagued with ads for Outback Steakhouse, for some reason I get a mental picture of gamey wallaby fillets.
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I found a video clip today from when I was down under - looking at the menus - with 'roo, camel, croc and emu! - It was in Alice springs where I was shocked to find that most of the staff had lived in my hometown 'cause of the surfing!

Kai, on Oct 30 2005, 12:20 AM, said:

I had a couple of visiting Brits along and they were nervous about going into an Irish pub ("in England you always check for the Union Jack or the Irish flag before going into a pub"), but they were glad to witness what for them must've been a major cultural overload of silly Americans.
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Strange really, I've only ever had problems in 'Irish' pubs in Portugal and Oslo, considering that the majority of my living came from playing in Irish pubs a couple of years back....

I usually only have trouble in English pubs in England, always for no particular reason. I tend to avoid the term 'brit' 'cause to me it's representative of the shaven head tatoo beer-gut lager swilling football shirt fuggs to which that I've come so emotionally inert. Land of hope and................

One thing I've noticed on my travels is that the cultural overload of any nationality is a wonderful source of entertainment - lets all keep up the good work !!!

_
gary

1hr 15mins 29seconds to intoxication.

[Kai]

corcoran, on Oct 30 2005, 10:28 AM, said:

Theme pubs? The missus loves them, and she hates shopping - standing once in Oxford street, London at about 9.00am one day I distinctly heard her ask "what time do the pubs open?"

I'm a lucky bastard


_
gazza

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Indeed you are! Esp. the "hates shopping" part: Quick, man, get her off to the genetics testing lab and find out what magnificent mutant base pair is responsible!

Every one of us who has had to hang around interminably near a store's frilly section while the S.O. goes to try on "just one more thing" (and dreading her inevitable "how do I look in this") will be forever in your debt.

[gazmungus]

Kai, on Oct 30 2005, 04:34 PM, said:

magnificent mutant base pair
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sounds like you know my missus!



The disturbing reality of the situation is that I don't mind shopping! for women's clothes that is...!!!!!!!

I'd figured that I should start up a business as a 'shopping partner' for all those rich trophy wives who'd be interested in an heterosexual opinion when trying on all the webbing/saucy stuff etc, whilst their old men are in the pub/golf club/prison .

cool new grems btw....
_
gary

I know there's a toilet round here someplace..................... whoops!

damn cat!

[jahloon]

corcoran, on Oct 30 2005, 06:02 PM, said:

The disturbing reality of the situation is that I don't mind shopping! for women's clothes that is...!!!!!!!

I'd figured that I should start up a business as a 'shopping partner' for all those rich trophy wives who'd be interested in an heterosexual opinion when trying on all the webbing/saucy stuff etc, whilst their old men are in the pub/golf club/prison .
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I'll be you first customer.

Was severely traumatised as a young boy, having to follow Mum around various shops. The words "Bon Marche" can still reduce me to Jelly.

Jah

[gazmungus]

I actually used to work in a women's clothes shop, I have very fond memories phwar!



BACK TO ON TOPIC ALERT!!!!

Of course the true essence (stench) of pub is piss, puke, disinfectant, stale lager, and fag smoke (as in cigarettes)....

any more pub smells?


_
gazza

last orders ladies and gents PLEEEESE!

[Kai]

corcoran, on Nov 2 2005, 02:08 PM, said:

BACK TO ON TOPIC ALERT!!!!

Of course the true essence (stench) of pub is piss, puke, disinfectant, stale lager, and fag smoke (as in cigarettes)....

any more pub smells?


_
gazza

last orders ladies and gents PLEEEESE!
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Depending on where in the pub you're sitting:

a background miasma of stale peanuts, rancid fryolator grease & burnt cheese (if the pub serves food. And I use the word "food" loosely.) I was a bartender in my youth.

[jahloon]

The eleven o'clock in the morning, pre-opening smell of stale bitter. The sun shining through a dust filled haze, your shoes make a distinct sound as you lift them one after the the other from the semi-sticky carpet. The buxom barmaid's white frilly top has a cleavage trap that's locked your gaze. The sound af barrels being rolled around rises from the cellar. This is going to be a long session.

Jah