I've heard a few chat-up lines in my time, but last night's delivery has to rank among the top five for originality and surrealism.
While enjoying a quick Leffe in the Belgian Bar, on my way home, I was nattering with this fella that I'd spoken to a few times previously in the Artillery Arms, when he declared that he'd just taken stock of a fruited beer cake and would very much like to share it with me. Almost inclined to take him up on his kind offer, I decided not to on the strength that he had a little goatee beard. Having had experience of one of those before, and a rather itchy rash on my inner thigh as a result, I figured he'd be best left alone.
Shame about the beer cake, though. That sounded quite nice!
Coming Back With Front.
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Good grief, this thing is still here? Doesn't Blogger ever put it's rubbish
out for the binmen?
6 years ago
5 comments:
ooh I like your little counter
A girl needs her trinkets, eh sister?
That and the encouraging knowledge that every time I come here to check on the thing, it's gone up by one visitor!
I know the very gent of whom you speak Lucy, being the provider of said cake.
It was out of date (the cake) so you made the right choice on all levels.
I sport a flavour saver myself, and I've never had any complaints!
I had a feeling there might have been something stale about the fella, Fatman.
And Richard, I do hope you're talking about a Tupperware container, rather than one of those brush thingies. They bring me out in a rash too!
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