A Bit of a Ramble.
DescriptionThis load of utter s*it contains profanity (that's swear words) and probably a load of other stuff that shouldn't be on here. Unfortunately I can't remember most of it so I'll give it an age classification of 44. Though,if you're 16 or over you probably won't suffer any lasting damage.
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Yes, I know; I’ve been rambling. What I actually wanted to talk to you about was the 2017 Wimbledon Tennis Championship. Wow! You’re still here? Thank you. I was cringing when I mentioned Wimbledon. Usually tennis talk is about as popular as Angela Merkel at a Greek banking seminar. Perhaps, like me, it’s the thoughts of summer evoked by Wimbledon that made you stay? There’s nothing quite like it is there? A clement, summer’s day, not a cloud in the sky, lawn mowers buzzing in the distance, an ice cream in your hand and yet another Brit being spanked on centre court. Speaking of ice cream (bet you thought I was going to mention spanking, didn’t you?) the ice of choice in my youth had to be a Walls Raspberry ripple. And here’s an interesting fact; I’ll bet you didn’t know that Walls the ice cream guys and Walls the sausages guys are one and the same? No? Well they are! Y’see. Back in the day (when I was a kid), Walls ice cream and Walls meat had the same logo. Of course, this became very confusing come Wimbledon time when everyone was in a rush to support the latest British ‘hopeful’ at SW19. In-keeping with our nation’s hopes, everything had to be enveloped in the Union Jack and Walls - founded in 1786 in London’s St James’ market - met that requirement. Unfortunately, corner shops of the day were exactly that; situated on a corner with very little space. Of course, that meant that the frozen products were all bunged together in a tiny chest freezer. You can just imagine it can’t you; the patriarch rushing home from work, calling into his local convenience store for a pack of frozen lollies, the Walls logo fixed firmly in his mind. And what faces him upon opening that packed chest freezer? A cacophony of Walls products, all with the same logo. No great surprise then when, given his agitated state, he picks up some frozen sausages instead of a pack of raspberry ripples. In the 70’s and 80’s times were tough. And one thing you never did was waste food. Yea, dad had made an honest mistake in purchasing the sausages, but it was still something cold to enjoy whilst watching the tennis. Enjoy might be a bit of a euphemism, though. We sucked the life out of that frozen meat, willing it to taste like raspberry, it’s growing flaccidness in synch with the dwindling hopes of the Brit on centre court. It’s only now, when I look back years later, that I realize how lucky we were to not live in the present. An entire family bobbing up and down on a frozen sausage would have been a You-Tube sensation for all the wrong reasons……… …………troubling………. ………..what? Oh yea. Wimbledon. Sorry.