Bitch on the Blog

July 4, 2014

May the rope fit your noose

Filed under: Amusement — bitchontheblog @ 08:15
Tags: , ,

I KNOW NOTHING. And I wish I were from Barcelona.

For those of you (Americans, Indians and others far away) this is with reference to the hapless and Spanish Manuel in “Fawlty Towers”, a sitcom I relish. The one programme which  reconciled me to the sad fact that I landed myself in England. Of all places.

I just scored Zero out of Ten. Zero out of Ten. Yes. How much better can it get,  Sweethearts? At least I have nothing to lose.

U

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6 Comments »

  1. Is that a spelling mistake on the title of the post? I shall send you a photograph by email to explain why I ask. Please respond after you see that.

    Comment by rummuser — July 4, 2014 @ 11:52 | Reply

    • My dear Ramana, no it’s NOT a spelling mistake. Got to shoot out this minute for a two o’clock appointment. Will answer properly later.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 4, 2014 @ 12:28 | Reply

  2. Zero out of ten in what?

    Ursula, i’m sad that you consider it a sad fact that you landed yourself in England. Surely it is s o much better than landing yourself in other places. (I am assuming that you are using the word England corrctly and not , as so many foreigners do as a synonym for Britain, Great Britian, The United Kingdom of etc
    Fawlty Towers always made me feel a little uncomfortable. Probably because it was, in fact, quite well observed if exagerated…. well John Clees’s character and that of Prunella Scales (brilliant acting )… When stereotypes are actually accurate it is always very telling.

    Here is one very English and proud Englishman who welcomes you to our land and is glad that you have stayed. If you do decide to leave us please take me with you…..

    Comment by magpie11 — July 4, 2014 @ 12:03 | Reply

    • I shall put you in my pocket, Magpie. Passport or no passport.

      Yes, GB. Can’t remember this minute where I saw an article recently and a mind numbing, not to say stupid, comment on GREAT Britain. The commentator accusing the rest of Europe, indeed the world, referring to these isles as Great Britain when, apparently (but that’s your famed understatement), no British person ever refers to Britain as GREAT. Which is, presumably, why the first thing you have to slap onto your car when swimming the channel to mainland Europe is a sticker which reads, loudly and proudly: GB.

      As my mother says: HumoUr is when you laugh despite of it all.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 4, 2014 @ 12:26 | Reply

  3. Whereas I know a lot about chickens and the walking dead
    Go figure

    Comment by John going gently — July 4, 2014 @ 21:02 | Reply

    • Oh, John, You have got it sussed. What are a few walking dead chickens among the badgers and a hungry fox when you have a village show to organize with Aunt Gladys at your side? I live your country life by proxy. And do question at times whether I have masochistic tendencies not known to me before.

      Yes, this last three and a half years city lark is all very well but boy oh boy don’t I miss the wild life. Even those damned squirrels. They weren’t even red. They were grey. You can forgive red anything. Even swinging from you 8 ft sunflowers snapping off the heads [of the flowers] but GREY? I ask you. It’s possibly the only time in my life I wish I’d had had a shooter. Think Cluedo: It was Ms U in her nightgown and wet feet in the morning dew, with a rifle, in the (at the time rater vast) garden. The only reason I never succumbed to the urge because I didn’t have a rifle, I didn’t want to wake the then tiny Angel with gun shots – or the neighbours come to think of it. But mainly because I don’t like dead animals. Bleeding. In my garden.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 5, 2014 @ 08:57 | Reply


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