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Thank God for beard trimmers...

Don’t forget waxing, JBear. Gals must make better spies, because of their training to withstand torture. But then the threat of a bad haircut would probably cause them to break.

I recently came up with a new idea. Seems the hair on my head doesn’t have a strong survival instinct, but at the same time I’ve done everything next to napalm to stop nose-hair growth (I’m tempted to turn them into dreadlocks). My idea is to transplant my nose-hair to my head. Not only the obvious benefit of having a healthy and lifelong head of hair, but I can switch to picking my scalp while I’m driving.

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Originally posted by Rick:

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[QUOTE]3. Nope - all extremities are fully functional (too much information, maybe?)

All like in A L L ! Is that with or without the assistance of pharmaceuticals, Mike? When it comes to loosing losing extremities' functionality, I’d much rather the hair go then the other thing. Even losing the hair around the other thing would be preferred.

I do not know anyone that actually uses pharmaceuticals or even things like bike pumps for this purpose, despite the spammers bombarding my inbox every day (worth a separate thread on this one!)

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While we're on the subject, I did use to play with a erector set.

That's what you called it, then, Rick!

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I do not know anyone that actually uses pharmaceuticals or even things like bike pumps for this purpose

How do you know, Mike, unless you are a lot closer to your mates than I am to mine, and I don’t mean in a physical way? Your pub discussions must be very liberating. I’m not sure I’d be willing to expose my minimum side, or even get in touch with it, in front of a bunch of guys.

“Bike pumps”? – I’m impressed (I mean that). One never knows when they are going to have a flat.

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That's what you called it, then, Rick!

It was very BIG here in the States. The difficult thing was having a set.

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Originally posted by Rick:
Your pub discussions must be very liberating. I’m not sure I’d be willing to expose my minimum side, or even get in touch with it, in front of a bunch of guys.

Our pub discussions - both M & F - reach parts that cannot be otherwise reached, while we put the world to rights!

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Our pub discussions - both M & F - reach parts that cannot be otherwise reached

Kinky. "Parts" - interesting choice of words instead of something like "Topics".

Mike, I have a follow-up comment. Assuming you're pubbing with older, married couples, it’s very possible that the wives don't know their husbands have a limp (and I don’t mean one that impacts walking). Now, should one of your male buddies bring his mistress, it would be redundant to ask her.

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Originally posted by Rick:

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Our pub discussions - both M & F - reach parts that cannot be otherwise reached

Kinky. "Parts" - interesting choice of words instead of something like "Topics".

Intended, Rick - I was also paraphrasing a lager advert - Carlsberg, IIRC - "Reaches parts that other lagers do not reach!"

Follow-up:
Could be, but we are going to our usual one tonight, and our friends range from 23-70, married and single.
I have compiled a table-top treasure hunt to stop anyone discussing their parts!

Pub is the one where the the Luddites used to hold their meetings for planning destroying factories.

Just across the road is the house where Patrick Bronte lived with his three daughters, later to become famous.

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and our friends range from 23-70, married and single.

Mike - Next to impossible to EVER be limp at 23. Sounds like a very diverse group. Are the younger members second-generation draftees of the original founders, or did they enlist for the camaraderie? More importantly, does everyone, regardless of age or gender, participate somewhat equally in the conversations/debates versus a few pontificating old duffers monopolizing the discussions?

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I have compiled a table-top treasure hunt to stop anyone discussing their parts!

I’ll bite – what makes up a table-top treasure hunt, and does it require a large table?

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Just across the road is the house where Patrick Bronte lived with his three daughters, later to become famous

Well, now I know who Patrick was. Is this the place? http://www.bbc.co.uk/bradford/sense_of_place/haworth_bronte_museum.shtml

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Originally posted by Rick:

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and our friends range from 23-70, married and single.

Mike - Next to impossible to EVER be limp at 23. Sounds like a very diverse group. Are the younger members second-generation draftees of the original founders, or did they enlist for the camaraderie? More importantly, does everyone, regardless of age or gender, participate somewhat equally in the conversations/debates versus a few pontificating old duffers monopolizing the discussions?

Usually the former, Rick

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I have compiled a table-top treasure hunt to stop anyone discussing their parts!

I’ll bite – what makes up a table-top treasure hunt, and does it require a large table?

Lots of small ones! We print a part of a map, then a list of (say 20) clues for places, ahd whoever gets the maximum right gets a prize. In the event of a tie-breaker, it is whoever is first.
As in:


Note - we do not give them this version of the map!
Alley Cats’ Table-top Treasure Hunt – 20 clues – Good Luck!

Not low, not big, not metric, but a start!
We then go south, but who paid Peter to north?
Passing through what is definitely not a summer meadow, and a bit further
a curious snot minder room is encountered as we continue.
Looking to our right, is this the bloke next door from Newcastle?
Onwards, a wood in a small mountain brings us to
the fluffy bit on left and right, or maybe front and back.
Into a small town, a collie with a sledgehammer?
Still on the same road, French ducks were said to be interred.
Repel sight badly here, followed by an
eternal Red Indian church.
Slightly off the road, we go to see a prizewinning bloom from small Bradford town.
And then there is what you make a boudoir cabinet from?
Through here, ‘twas worn badly.
Looking across to the right, is this someone with a grudge against beer?
Into the town, is part of it from East?
Better than a new Volvo, I suppose!
Then, reportedly, it is what we are on!
Plinth portions upset on left, and finally, as we arrive,
a sort of thin teacher honours this small town.

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Originally posted by Rick:

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Just across the road is the house where Patrick Bronte lived with his three daughters, later to become famous

Well, now I know who Patrick was. Is this the place? http://www.bbc.co.uk/bradford/sense_of_place/haworth_bronte_museum.shtml

No, this is where he lived later, Rick. First, he was at Clough House, Hightown, Liversedge where he was a priest at Hartshead church (highest in Yorkshire).
Clough House is a stone cottage, about half a mile from us.

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Note - we do not give them this version of the map!

Even with the map, I still wouldn’t even qualify to be a contestant.

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Alley Cats’ Table-top Treasure Hunt

Should I assume you call yourselves the “Alley Cats”?

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Better than a new Volvo, I suppose!

That almost sounds as if you like Volvos. Must be a typo.[/QUOTE]

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Liversedge

I understand that’s right next to Kidneystone.

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Originally posted by Rick:

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Note - we do not give them this version of the map!

Even with the map, I still wouldn’t even qualify to be a contestant.

Oh dear!

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Alley Cats’ Table-top Treasure Hunt

Should I assume you call yourselves the “Alley Cats”?

Indeed we do, Rick. There is a reason, but it would take too long, and I need to do PC housekeeping now it is Friday!

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Better than a new Volvo, I suppose!

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That almost sounds as if you like Volvos. Must be a typo.

I am sure Volvos are excellent cars - it is just the Volvo drivers that sometimes give me (and others) problems!

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[QUOTE]Liversedge

I understand that’s right next to Kidneystone.

It can be. if you say it with a hard "s". We occasionally get "liver sausage" as well!

Name originated from Sir Robert de Liversedge.
Colloquialism is "Cleckmondsedge" - a corruption of the nearby towns of Cleckheaton, Heckmondwike and the area of Liversedge!

Sounds like the Alley Cats use pubing as an excuse to converse/debate, or use conversing/debating as an excuse to pub, or use each other as excuses. Then there’s always the possibility that none of you need any excuse to do either.

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It can be. if you say it with a hard "s". We occasionally get "liver sausage" as well!

And here I was sure you were going to use the standard excuse that liver was being used as an inhabitant instead of an organ.

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Colloquialism is "Cleckmondsedge" - a corruption of the nearby towns of Cleckheaton, Heckmondwike and the area of Liversedge!

Is there much difference between a sedge, a heaton, and a wike? Sounds like a mond might just increase property values.

Another smart-ass (smart-arse doesn’t sound right) Rick post!

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Originally posted by Rick:

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Colloquialism is "Cleckmondsedge" - a corruption of the nearby towns of Cleckheaton, Heckmondwike and the area of Liversedge!

Is there much difference between a sedge, a heaton, and a wike? Sounds like a mond might just increase property values.

Dunno, Rick - values are steadily increasing anyway.

All these suffixes are old Viking words, as are most of the place names are in Yorkshire.

Heckmondwike was "Hegmond's Wike" Wike or Wyke is a farm. There is a place called "Wyke" a mile or so from here, and many Heatons. Derivation of "Liversedge" is not definitely known, AFAIK.

See you Monday - off to London for weekend, if I can get out of the driveway (a bit of snow here!)

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See you Monday - off to London for weekend, if I can get out of the driveway (a bit of snow here!)

Enjoy!

Hi Dave - I’m assuming that’s a picture showing your local weather? Either that, or it’s a very unusual section of London. It sure doesn't look like Heckmondwike or Liversedge, but I can't swear it's not Cleckheaton!

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Originally posted by Mike from West Yorkshire:
(a bit of snow here!)

Mike – can you define “a bit”.

Hi Rick
There was an inch when we set off on Saturday morning, but most of it has thawed out.



We would have to go a bit further North for Dave's palm trees, to the West coast of Scotland, or Southern Ireland.

Looks like bird-bath heaven – at the time of the photo perhaps only ice-skating.

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Either that, or it’s a very unusual section of London.

No, not London; it is a Queen Palm in my front yard.

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Originally posted by Rick:
Looks like bird-bath heaven – at the time of the photo perhaps only ice-skating.

Our resident blackbird has tried it when he could not have his daily splash and empty most of the water out!
All the snow has gone now.