Tuesday, July 29, 2003


Ham Shanks Secret Diary - Part 6

Ham Shanks Secret Diary w/c 28th July 2003

Mosquito’s buzz about the hot night air, a light breeze makes the curtains flutter, there’s not another sound in the house you can hear your own breath and the beat of your heart as you lie in bed. Your dreaming nice thoughts, life is good, …….. then ……… the faintest hint of musical notes hanging in the air like ….. like ….. like ……. Like the noisy fucking piece of shit racket that it is … it’s half past six in the fecking morning you bawbag! STOP PLAYING THE HARMONICA!!!

Sorry that’s a bit harsh of me, what I should have said was stop “Learning” to play the fecking harmonica at half six in the morning when yer walking past my house ye inconsiderate nobber!

Another week in the land of cheese and things just get crazier (ok so my close proximity to a coffee shop MAY have something to do with the amount of eedjits but I think cheese poisoning is more likely) Anyway it’s been fairly quite this week – no floating gospel choir, however there was some annual floating thingy on today – loadsa boats going past with bands on, Jazz bands, Spanish guitars, Brass Bands, Rock and roll type bands – It was pretty cool although the Jazz band were pushing the fronteirs of Jazz (i.e. they were shite)

Unless they were all deaf musicians along the lines of Evelyn Glennie and unfortunately they all had different sheet music and nobody had the heart to tell the poor basaards! anyway they sounded like they were reaming a cat with a wire brush – But who am I to say after all my musical abilities don’t set the world on fire (yet – My new comb and paper “unplugged” album is coming out soon).

I cant remember if I told you about the Jazz band that Allan and I watched a couple of weeks back but I think it was the same lot (Aker Bilk …. Shiiiiite!)

Me twin Bruvva was across this weekend and I took him to see some of the sights around toon (ok so I took him to a lot of the bars round toon, but they are sights …. YES they are!) Anyway we were sitting at a wee pub just up the road enjoying watching the world go by over a few blizzardly cold beers when one of the Netherlands better ideas past by. It’s called the Feitscafe (CycleCafe) I have included a hyper link to their website so ye believe me.

Basically there is a big keg of beer on the front (very important bit that) and two “bars” the are opposite each other. Each bar has 4 stools and each barstool has a set of bike pedals underneath and ye just pedal away and help yersel tae beer from the handy pump at the bar, hey presto moving pub! (there is a driver as well) Could ye imagine that in the UK! – HSE would have everybody wearing harnesses and hardhats! (there must be a floating one as well cos the cloggies dee everything on water!)

Had an interesting experience in the Kebab shop this week – The first place I’ve been where they don’t speak english (poor show, Johnny Foreigner needs to buckle down and learn English!) anyway I thought I had ordered a kebab ….. 5 minutes later the guy is shouting something and everybody is looking at me …. Ok ….. I get to the counter and he hands me some chips ………. Hmmmm I don’t remember ordering chips (frites) but hey maybe it’s kebab plus frites, so I sit down and start scoffing my frites whilst wating for my parasite ridden body temerature undercooked “lamb” kebab ……….

Another 5 minutes and no kebab (I’ve finished the chips) another 5 minutes and I’m getting concerned (these were expensive chips – 4 euros) then this bloke comes in and starts girning cos he hasn’t got his frites (the evidence is now in my stomach) the guy points across to the empty chair where I was sitting 2 seconds ago and I hear the rammy start as I’m cycling down the road at warp factor eight (propelled by adrenaline and the carbohydrate from my stolen frites!) Life hear is such an adventure!

Went for a cycle roond the toon today – and went down a different part for a gander. Despite all my jokes about Red windows and fingers in dykes I hadnt actually seen Utrechts red light district yet ……… well I have now ……… and just to be different the red light district here is a floating red light district! I kid you not – about 30 houseboats moored in a huge long line.

Each boat has about 4 “windows” and the ladies ply their trade as in Amsterdam (cept there is a wee gangway for getting onboard) “Permission to come on board captain” takes on a whole new meaning! – Only in the Netherlands what a country. I wonder if they have a sticker saying “If this boats a rocking don’t come a knocking” more likely it would be “If this boats a rocking please take a ticket and wait your turn” (they like tickets here)

Bizarre considering the trains are a complete bun fight every day, queuing and good manners dissapear – pregnant women and children get trampled underfoot as soon as the train door open – they find gaps that ye couldn’t get a ferret in! That’s why they are all so tall and thin it’s so the feckers can sneak up the inside of ye as yer just about to set foot on the train or sit in the seat that you’ve nearly got half a buttock on already.

I find the easiest way to avoid an akward encounter is to just push the big lanky bastards out of the way shouting “Achtung achtung zis train is for officers only you Inferior scum” (whilst Saluting and holding your finger above your top lip) …… Works for me! If I get any funny looks I just say “well you should have tried a bit harder 60 years ago – it’s your own fault” ………… my court case is in 2 weeks, should be back in blighty in three!

Okey Dokey kids that’s me for another week - Y’all take care now and as the Dutch say “Shtop taking the pish out of my accent you Shcots Bashtard”


Ps Mad dutch stuff : http://www.fietscafe.nl/

Tuesday, July 22, 2003


Ham Shanks Secret Diary - Part 5

Ham Shanks Secret Diary w/c 21st July 2003

“Dear god make it stop, I cannay take it anymore, The Bells ................. The Bells ………… THE BELLS!” (and it’s not even the whisky) - I feel like the fecking hunchback of Notra bleeding whatsit! Somebody make them stop, you cant tune a bell so why are you trying to play a tune ON a bell – Ding fecking dong and that’s it done and dusted …… end of tune ….. step away from the bell and put your hands on your head before someone gets hurt …… i.e. YOU!

Hello everybody!

I was going to look up the dictionary for the “proper” word for bell ringer, however as I didn’t know what it was (often wondered how you check the spelling of a word if you don’t know how to spell it ….) Anyway I was unwilling to look at every word in the dictionary until I got the one I needed (and of course “Arsehole” is at the start and that seemed a perfect fit anyway)

Last week was “whistler” week ……. this week has been “Holy jo baatards clanging their bells” perhaps this is some particularly holy week in the Netherlands – who knows, but they have been giving the bell ringing big licks in Utrecht

It’s like they are having a competition, one will start and you can just imagine some bawbag in another Kirk going “HA you call that a bell, THIS is a bell” and the original geezer going “Right ya bas I’ll sort you oot” then phoning all his pals and getting them in in tae ring ALL the other bells at once! Then ye can see the second boy rolling his sleeves up muttering “come to papa” and he starts on “The BIG Bell” …………… great!

Oh and they have “Floating Choirs” here as well – I kid you not, I’m watching the telly, some interesting programe about cheese was on, when I hear sweet voices in the distance ….. the noise is getting louder …. What the feck …….. I have a gander oot the window and there is a flotilla of “Canal Bikes” (which are kinda pedalo things rather than loose wummin by the water)

Each one has 4 women giving it Laldy with sorta groovy Gospal Choir stuff – The ladies wernt quite your stereotypical gospel choir big black mamas however one lady did have a cleavage you could ski down and a blouse as thick as rizzla paper (not that I noticed you understand) And the music was actually quite pleasant (if not a bit surreal) and as soon as it had started, they were gone ……………….. nothing sinister they just “biked” up the canal.

Well I’m assuming they did, they may have been topedoed be a rogue U-boat left over from the war but if it’s been hiding in the canal for 60 years then the crew would be a bit crumbly by now, and to be fair the canals are only about 12 feet deep so it’s really not a viable theory ……….. periscope would stick out ……….. and they couldn’t turn round cos the canals are too narrow ….. silly really – don’t know what I was thinking of …….. sorry!

Did I mention that Friday’s are “Fish” days here? Did I? (Well they are) and the Cloggies like Fish almost as much as they like cheese (note to self: invent fish cheese and become a cloggy millionaire) so anyway Fridays at the canteen mean that instead of the usual selection of cheeses and deep fried cruchy stuff we get a huge selection of cheeses and deep fried fish products ….. which is why we eat out on a Friday.

Raw herring in brine is apparently a delicacy here ………….. you just roll your head back and drop it straight down your gullet …. Right … I thought I’d improve on the process by missing out the middle man and just flushing the fish straight down the cludge! Better still - spend your money on beer rather than snacks that taste like a bag of salt and have the consistency of freezer bags (I’m a fan you can tell).

Went to see “The secretary” at the movies ………. Hmmmm If you liked “Being John Malkovic” then you would probably like this film … however if like me you thought “Being John Malkovic” was the biggest pile of unmitigated shite you’d ever had the misfortune to sit through and that it was an insult to your eyes …. Then you wont like this Secretary either.

I think the guy who sat in front of us (who watched the movie completely off his tits smoking a spliff) probably enjoyed it on any number of levels (I’d have settled for one!) Anyway ye don’t know if ye don’t go! (Terminator III is out this week – more my bag baby) Although I’ve heard Arnie’s on a zimmer frame which detracts somewhat - Enough of the film reviews.

Here’s some “advert” reviews I particularly like the adverts for “Fa” I have absolutely no idea what it’s for (I think it’s an underarm deodorant or a hairspray of a washing powder or axle grease, whatever) however it does seem to involve gratuitous female nudity (never a bad thing) My second favourite ad is on one of the satellite channels – “Peel away the Pounds” (accompanied by unfeasibly large smile and scary amount of teeth) “I used to be 310 pounds (Queue Old photo of lardass looking unhappy) THEN I started using the “Peel away the pounds” system – just one simple patch on your arm and a “Shake” before each meal and you feel full and no longer overeat (they forget to mention the Jaw wiring)

Queue new photograph of blonde bomshell with arse hanging out of a g-string …. But no facial photo ….. is this the same person? ……… yeah right, stop me I’m going for the phone, no really I am, it’s got to work – It’s on the telly! I’ve decided to go on the “Feel away the pounds” program, this involves feeling up good looking young lassies ……….. then having to sprint like buggery to avoid being caught by them their boyfriends and or The police! I’m telling you it’s a winner, I’ve lost thirteen pounds already (and 250 Euros in fines) I’m thinking of starting a “Bike away the pounds” scheme too (Watch this space)

Anyway better awa tae ma bed, part of parole conditions ensure that I’m not out after sundown ……….


Ps Started some Dutch lessons apparently “Shtoooop thish joke is not ready yet” isnt very funny to the natives ………. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn the clogs ……………

Tuesday, July 15, 2003


Ham Shanks Secret Diary - Part 4

Ham Shanks Secret Diary w/c 14th July 2003

What a week – To quote a famous film – “It’s been hotter than a snakes ass in a wagon rutt!”, “Gonna do a little crotchpot cooking, it’s that hot!” Get the picture?

So anyway I have an enormous fan in my bedroom (No….. not a huge fat women that like me a lot …..… a fan as in an electric fan) anyway up until this week I was wondering what it was for, were not in the tropics after all – Yes we fecking are!

I’ve been sweating like an Orkney Dad, I have found out it works best at close quarters (we are still talking fans before you start worrying) About 3 feet from the bed and maximum warp – this way it offers some cooling and also blows the fecking mossies away (one down side of keeping all the windows open). I’m seriously thinking of lashing out for a portable aircon unit but I think the landlady may go a bit Raj if she see’s me coming up the stairs with an electricity guzzler like that (lecky bills are inclusive).

It’s a tough life so what can ye do except drink blizzardly cold beer in an effort to keep the temperature down. To this end myself and Dr Frame were oot at a wee belgian pub on Tuesday putting the worlds to rights over a couple of frostie ones. We sensibly decided to cycle home (at midnght) before things got too messy (it was a school night after all). It’s amazing how a brisk 15 minute cycle helps the alcohol flow through the veins, I was feeling ok when I left the pub but I was pretty steaming by the time I got home, it was at this point that I realised I’d left my jacket in the pub (Doh)

Ah feckit I’ll just have to go back and gerrit another time. I slumped on the bed and sparked up the fan, aaaaaahhh sweet sweet fan how I love thee (still the electric one).

Wednesday night was a quiet night in ………… well it would have been had the “Whistler” not turned up at the coffee shop again. There appears to be a “regular” customer of the coffee shop in front of my house - he appears to be fond of whistling, now I’m a reasonable man (yes I am!) and whistling is perfectly acceptable behaviour (for about a pico-second) however our self soiled local hero appears to be attempting to mimic a wild bird call, I think it’s the call of the “lesser spotted irritating tosser” and he’s got it down to a T – he can also keep up this call for 30 minutes without stopping!.

I’m not sure what the assault laws are yet so I’m refraining from kicking his stinking arse into the canal. As a compromise I went for a cycle instead, when I got back he was gone, lets hope he’s gone for a swim wearing concrete wellies....

Friday night was a night oot in the dam – straight frae work (it’s got disaster written all over it I know) however was actually a sensible night, nearly witnessed a fight in the chinese we went to (all you can eat for 7 euro 50 cents – woo hoo) I don’t know quite what started it off but this English geezer told the proprietor (who was obviously of Oriental origin) to “Fuck off you chinky c*nt” needless to say said owner didn’t take this too well – Unfortunately he was no Bruce Lee so instead of some groovy Kung Foo fighting and a bit of anglo-ass-kicking he simply screamed “Get out now” this had little effect......

Isnt it great though, the Brits can be proud, the only bother I’ve seen so far and it’s exported racism from blighty – Must get a pair of Union Jack underpants! The rest of the night was groovy, thankfully Dr Frame was on the super strong belgian beers so he was “rubber manny” long before me and we managed to get the 1:30 am train and we wur back in Utrecht by 2 am – time for a quick pitstop at the “Frite shop” (Chipper to you and me) sadly I only got a blank look when I asked for a haggis supper!

Saturday morning and I bumped into yet another nutter – I was getting my bike out of the shed and this “ethnic” looking geezer stops at the shed door, I have one hand on the door and the other hand on my bike. This bloke starts chanting “Ik bin Catholik, Ik bin Catholik” several times over, followed by “Fuck Osama, Fuck Muslim Fuck the pope” (think he got a bit confused there) this went on for about a minute, I’m still standing there looking at this geeezer (slackjawed, saying nothing) then he just starts skipping and I mean skipping down the road.

It was a surreal moment, I looked up and down the street for the candid camera but nothing appeared. I have to give him 9 out of 10 for comical skipping though. The only way he could have improved would be if just before he turned the corner he had jumped and clicked his heels together – But hey you cannay have everything, as nutters go he was class A, top drawer, doolally!

You may remember from previous rants that I opened a bank account 2 weeks ago. Well glory be I find a letter when get home on Friday night telling me cards are ready – woo Hoo. They don’t post cards out here, you have to pick them up (security wise actually quite sensible, if not a bit irritating) I am a Cloggy it’s official, Dutch bank card, bike and resident nutter – sorted

Decided to spend some Euros with ma shiney new card. Though I need a pair of sunglasses cos it’s so fecking sunny (and I forgot to bring a pair) how hard could it be …… weeeeelll I went round Hunners of shops and could I find sunglasses – could I buggery, eventually after about 2 and a half hours I got a pair ………. Well they must have a trick mirror in the shop OR I was looking at another baldy ginger bloke that had a nice pair of glasses on OR the sun must have gone to my head by then cos when I got home and looked in the mirror ……………….. Peters and Lee ……

For fecks sake the only thing missing was a guide dog and a white fecking stick. Although I’m beginning to think that maybe I am blind considering I bought the feckers in the first place.

Anyway repleat with my NHS specials I stumbled round to Allan and Sannes (I’m beginning to think they are painted black on the inside) “What do you think kids?”………….. their laughter is still ringing in my ears …………. Still ye’ve got to laugh ………. Apparently

Ho hum – Shall sign off for this week – every cloud has a silver lining though I get my guide dog next week and apparently under the dutch social service system a blind person is entitled to the services of a hooker once a week – woo hoo it’s like buy one get one free!

Slaiter Aifter kids


Wednesday, July 09, 2003


Ham Shanks Secret Diary - Part 3

Ham Shanks Secret Diary W/C 8th July 2003

What can I say in my defence except “That’s why they call it puuuuuuuupppyyy loooooooveeee Oooohhhh aaahhhhh” …………..….Your honour!

100 Euros indeed it wasn’t as if the dog didn’t enjoy it.

Hello Everybody (In the Manner of Dr Nick Riviera)

Another week gone by in the land of cheese – you may be interested to know that the Dutchies eat the most dairy products per capita of any nation in the world! (Yeah I know I wasn’t interested either) However now that I have to shop here you wouldn’t believe the bewilderment a cheese counter can bring. Young cheese, old cheese, thick rind, thin rind, light cheese, dark cheese, lumpy, smooth, yellow, orange, green every fecking kinda cheese ye could and couldna think of …. And ye know …………….. I fuckin hate cheese

Only joking, luckily I like it - however don’t eat to much of the “Sambal Kaas” that’s “Chilli cheese” to you and me. It didn’t seem too hot on entry, it was a wee bit more nippy during digestion but glory be it really saved itself for the final curtain! – I do believe the stuff should come with some complimentary iced toilet paper or some soothing ointment, sitting on a wasps nest would have been a blessed relief. Anyway at least I know where A & E is now.

Oh I am nearly a proper Dutchman now as I have a bike, a second hand “Stadsfeit” (citybike) we would probably refer to it as a boneshaker or a “bag’a’shite” - Not bad for 65 euros and as it will probably be knicked withing three months so nae point in lashing oot. Other option is wait till late at night when the “Special” bike shop opens, you can get a bike for about 20 euros - the sales assistant invariably has no teeth, a body odour issue and is cycling away from the scene of the crime shouting “Feits fer koop” (bike for sale)

Thought I’d buy a legit one first time round. I have to say that the bike is THE way to travel here. Everybody has told me to spend as much money on a lock as on the bike, oh and buy two locks, cos if ye only lock the front wheel they will nick the rest of the bike and vice versa – then they just marry the two bits the gether and hey presto you come out of the pub and ……no bike ……a lingering odour of sardines and the distant cry of “Feits fer koop”.

So to try oot the new purchase (while I still had it) I went for a cycle with Dr Frame on Wednesday night and we had a wee pitstop at this pub in Zeist, couple of nourishing beers to sustain us for the journey home (Served as ever by a gorgeous Dutch lassy – I’m gonnay have to wear a bib I’m dribbling so much) and a scenic route back.

Those of you that met Allan in Amsterdam wil be aware of “Allan minutes” versus earth minutes – The same applies on the bike! “Just 10 more minutes pal” (on the train maybe) got home in time to catch the late night telly ….. interesting ………. Very interesting (note to self : don’t go to bed so early)

What else happened this week – Oh yes somebody tried to burn the house down, which was nice. The rubbish gets picked up on a Monday morning and this Monday there were about twenty bags instead of the usual 1 or 2. Looks like some ned was coming out of the nearby coffee shop early morning and thought it would be a laaf to have a barbeque!

Apparently there were flames licking half way up the side of the house and some geezer just happened to be walking by – he phoned the feds and the firebrigade and while he was waiting he ran up and down from the canal with a bucket dousing the flames. Me …. I was in ma scratcher snoring like a tractor – Only found out the next morning! I have now examined my escape routes and decided that should this happen again my best plan of action will be to hide under the bed and cry like a schoolgirl OR I could jump out the back window and try and land on the roof or the shed below – Probably going straight through the surface straddling a joist and ending up with an extra set of tonsils and a luvly soprano singing voice OR I could buy about 25 feet of rope and get arrested for abseiling naked out the back window at the first smell of burnt toast from the flat below!

Hurry hurry hurry vote now A for whimpering B for castration and C for indecent exposure hurry hurry hurry lines close at midnight!

On the subject of pyrotechnics I went for a meal with Big Al, Sanne and 4 of their pals we had a kinda self service meal. Everyone at the table gets a wee paraffin stove, a frying pan and they give ye various bits of chicken, beef, pork, veg and ye cook it in yer wee pan at the table.....

See if ye tried this in the UK ye would be shut down in 30 seconds flat, michty me a PARAFFIN stove …….. on the table …….. THE TABLE!!!!! And everybody is getting rubbered Alcohol and kerosene is a dangerous mixture.

Charlie says “MeaooowwwYou’llgetbarbaquedyestupidfuckers…eoooww” and the thing was ye could only fit about 1 bit of chicken and half a mushroom on yer pan! and the strangest thing of all was that there was …………… no cheese!

Oh oh oh gorra great day trip planned for any of you kids that come out – There is a great place called the “Pancake House” well that’s what it translates as which does THE most fantastic scran you’ve ever tasted (pancakes funnily enough) – Ye get yersel a carry oot and then board a canal boat trip which dumps you at said pancake hoose and gives ye 2 hrs tae stuff yer puss. Then they take ye back intae toon and drop ye off at a pub of your choice – how civilised!! (well I thought so)

Anyway that’s all my news from cheesville

Doei fer noo

Ps I was joking at the start I didn’t get arrested for having sex with a puppy ………… it was at least 14 months ………………….. and gagging for it ……… you wouldn’t believe how few sheep there are across here ………… nobody told me that! In hindsight the extra 50 euros were probably for dressing the dog up, in my defence I did try to find a poodle first ……… ahhh I’ve done it again, must remember to not write everything I think.

Take care ‘o’ yersels


Sunday, July 06, 2003


Ham Shanks Secret Diary - Part 2

Ham Shanks Secret Diary W/C 1st July 2003

Stormy Monday and Tuesdaaaaaaay’s twice as bad, Aaaaaah theeeey caaaaall it Stormy Monday etc etc

I appear to have brought the Scottish weather with me – last 6 weeks, baking sunshine, high twenties (celcius) lassies in flimsy see through tops, skirts the width of a belt and nae knickers...
Ham arrives and the rain starts, temperature drops and the boilersuits and balaclavas are on! – cept those wummmin standing at their windows in their undies ……. Hmm merits more investigation ………………… they keep winking at me as well …… nice …

Actually had some work to do this week (shockaroony) this place makes the Pru look like the epitomy of organisation and a super well oiled machine e.g. “So can I have a look at the test plan?” …. “what test plan” ……………. Ooooookay can I have a look at the system spec?” ……. System spec? ………………. Okey dokey, what about the high level requirements? …………… You can have a look at the newspaper ……….. it’s in Dutch! -Michty me I’ve nae idea foo they dee onything ava! – who cares as long as they pay me.

Went Flat hunting on Tuesday – It’s nice to know that estate agents are w*nkers in all countries – wharra bawbag, geezer takes me to see three properties and we spend about 20 minutes in the car getting there - wheras getting off his lazy Dutch arse would have taken him 10 minutes to walk to all the properties – Although it did allow me the opportunity to observe at close quarters a graduate of the RDTDC (Royal Dutch Tosser Driving Company) what a bawbag, nearly mowed down three people on bikes and we went round a one way system three times until we got a space near enough for him to walk his fat a*se to the flat! …………. And he had a big zit on the end of his nose

Having said that the Flat was fecking gorgeous ………. Only one bedroom but it overlooks the canal is 5 mins walk from Centraal station, is 4 doors up from a curry house, a coffee shop and kick in the backside away from hunners of pubs – I liked it so much I signed the lease! (never take the first place you see, so they say)
I did look at two other properties the second was huge but was painted 100% white – a straight jacket and cuffs wouldn’t have looked out of place, the third was fan-feckin-tastic, 100 yards from the best pub in Utrecht and had two bedrooms, unfortunately the owner hadnt quite got the grasp of how to let out a property – leaving the place looking like the Marie Celeste with food in all the cupboards and a shite in the downstairs toilet does not impress – although it was an impressive turd I have to say – I think it was trying to crawl round the u-bend, maybe it was a homing turd, difficult to say, I’ve set a few free in my day but I’m more of a pebbledash man myself. Anyway I digress – I plumped for the first place and signed on the dotted – I move in on Friday
Now to open a bank account ….. how hard could it be? ……………….. hard it would seem. Queued for 15 minutes with my wee “deli-ticket” then was told to join another queue (that’s cool this is The Netherlands, they like queues * except for trains) anyway no worries I’m told it will be a short wait ……………… 45 minutes later (after spending the last 10 minutes been acosted by a man with no teeth or deodorant - nice) I get to speak to the nice man from ABN Amro (biggest bank in cloggysville) Yesh Mr Shanks what can I do for you? …. I’d like to open a current account please … do you have a job, yes I have a six month contract … I’m shorryy Mr Shanks but we can only open a savings account …. Oooookaaay …… You can open a current account if you promise to keep the balance above 25,000 Euros ….
Ha … ha …. Ha fecking Ha – Even allowing for our cheese eating cousins arithmetic ineptitude (2500 Euros was what he meant) he can shtick his account up his a*se (if there is any space left after my boot has been inserted at high speed) I went to the Postbank instead (Postoffice to you and me – but they work as a bank as well) 5 minutes done and dusted – sorted, time for a beer!
Uneventful week at work – fannying around with windows type problems instead of Renewals type problems – found out that the CPS team (Team I’m in) is the poisoned chalice of the Gouden Gids (Yellow Pages) woo hoo! – dinnay care though
Right kids that’s me for another week – Off to the Pub with Dr Frame and then perhaps home via the “Curry & Carry” along the road!


This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?