Ramblings from the road
“Where’s that useless bastard, Norm!!” roared Bruce.
“He’s let me down again. I don’t know why I asked him to run this department. He couldn’t organise a shit fight in a septic tank. Ah, there you are, you poor excuse for a manager.”
Continue reading “Norm”
For a couple of years after Marg and I got married we lived in Ascot Vale, a few streets down from where John the Pommie resided. The two of us used to get a lift into work with one of our workmates called Richard. Richard didn’t have a nickname as such but was forever on the receiving end of a lot of “Dick” jokes such as: “Have you got a second, Dick?” or “Have you got a bit of string on ya, Dick?”
He used to pick us up on the corner of our street, where, while waiting from him, I used to have to put up with all the stories about “Munchester United”, the soccer team the Pommie used to follow “buck home” home in England.
Continue reading “John & Richard”