A recent comment on my post - Heanor Tyres Has Left The Building:
Tis I, Taverna Ted, remember me from last year? Don't you go on a bit, how does Mr Grump survive all the crap you dish out? Maybe he switches his hearing off if he possesses an atom of sanity, who could blame him for doing just that and cowering into a silent world cut off from the insessant chants of HRH. Hope he doesn't take offence and falls on his sword, me in a similar situation would have had a quick screw up Monkey Puzzle and then sucummed to the wrath of the Orient Express as it sped on it's way northwards into the distance leaving my tangled body on the track to be picked over by those bloody foxes. Look Grumpess this is the first time I have logged on to you since I posted my last thoughts of TT way back last Dec, I havn't read you all yet, must go on a sicky for a week and bring myself uptodate, the reason why I put these few lines together is to advise you that I took out a Patent on the handle I so time consumably mulled over and I see you have adopted "The Grumpess" as part of your handle, and so alas my dearest Grumpess expect to hear from my lawyers. Good of you to let people know where Heanor Tyres are moving to, but where is the repair garage bloke going to hang out, I, like yourself Lady Grumpess, also use their services. you could say HH will soon be "way the lads" but in a way a part of them will still be around, thank God for that you may say, where one door closes another opens, I can see poor old Bob being in for a rough ride in the future, go easy on the lad, he has a heart bigger than your mouth if that's possible
Best regards to you old Grumpess and my commisserations to Mr Grump.
Taverna Ted x
Hi Taverna Ted,
I thought that seeing as you bothered to spend the time to write a long comment that I’d publish it all here in full as hardly anyone reads the comments.
Right, lets get my reply in the right order:
Yes I do go on a bit, I did say I was starting to bore myself.
Mr Grump [as you've named him] survives just fine because for a cheerful chap he’s actually w-a-y grumpier than me - except when he’s laughing at me; which is quite a lot of the time. He's just stopped by briefly and tittered at your comment and my reply in progress.
Have they really changed the route of the Orient Express to go through Occidental Langley Mill on it's way to the north? Wow, I'm impressed, I must look out for that, I like trains.
Mr Grump has been to make enquiries [just for you] as to where the repair bit has gone and it seems they've all gone together to Boundary Lane - we don’t use their or Robs Heanor Tyres services but they are nice to chat to.
Hmm, yes, I know you were jesting but I wouldn’t bother having a week off work to read my blog:
- It’s not interesting.
- It’s very moany.
- It has already provoked you to produce so much bile [as evidenced by your comment] that it would be quite unhealthy for you to read it.
I haven’t got a big mouth, I rarely voice my grumpiness out loud because I’ve found that writing down my moans is quite cathartic enough. It is usually being tired after being kept awake by PMB that makes me grumpy, but once I’ve blogged about it I’m back to my happy self again. Having now read a proper grumpy book I find that I’ve got way too much time on my hands and far too few responsibilities to be a proper fully fledged grump - but I will try harder.
I will be very glad when PMB go - I like my sleep, but I’ll let you into a secret, I'll be quite sad when Heanor Haulage leave - but don’t tell anyone I said so. I know I moan about them but it’s only their lack of consideration that irks me. Shortly after they came Mr HH said he wanted to get on with his neighbours as they were here to stay.
‘OK,’ we agreed, but my idea of neighbourliness would have been to nip round to nearby properties shoving a note through letter boxes to warn us all of impending sandblasting days so we were prepared with our ear plugs and windows shut, or simply take ourselves out - rather than them fully expecting us to phone Environmental Health to shout at them over the noise. The back yard needs a bucket or two of tarmac to stop the ground from escaping with the wind and rain, poor Dean Street gets the worst of that. And they should definitely have retired their old rust bucket of a crane because the fumes from that when they've finally got it chugging and left it to warm up for half an hour or so really are horrendous. Other than that, I like to see them to-ing and fro-ing on the back [when they aren't too close for comfort] and I, ahem, will miss them.
I like Grumpess ta very much - I’ll continue to use it until something else appeals to me - hmm, Lady Grumpess mayhap …