I need somebody to remind me of all the great stories told last night!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The Great Bike War
Biggars decided to get fit. To do this, he decided to cycle the 6 miles to Rolls Royce and 6 miles from Rolls Royce on his trusty steed named “Trigger”
This did not go down well in The CUS mobile, not because they missed Biggars company, but because “Zero Proof Tick” would not balance and Lone ran out of fag money before the end of the week.
CUSS decided on a campaign of physiological war fare.
Lone, being the master strategist, worked out a plan where the CUS mobile would overtake Biggars on the A38 and then mysteriously overtake him again! This was not what you might call, a diabolically clever plan, as Biggars quickly worked out that the CUS mobile was turning off at some side road ahead and hiding in a field gate, only to reappear behind him again.
This happened on three occasions, each time the Cus mobile would slowly overtake Biggars with all its occupants staring fixedly ahead their faces expressionless.
Finally Biggars spotted where the Cuss mobile turned and followed it down the lane. Sure enough the car stopped in a gate and the engine was switched off. When Biggars arrived, Lone, A.D. and Garth were huddled down in the foot wells of the car with their eyes shut, as if by not seeing Biggars standing there with his arms folded looking at them, he could not see them!
Lone decided to up the stakes.
One evening the CUS mobile drew alongside Biggars, who for him, was achieving the dizzy speed of 8 mph on Trigger. A.D., who was seated on the passenger’s side wound down the window and asked Biggars if he would like a drink. Biggars thanked A.D. and accepted a bottle of water, and then A.D. asked if Biggars would like a Mars Bar, Biggars accepted. He now had a bottle of water and an unwrapped Mars bar to deal with, plus his break neck speed. The final straw was when Garth asked Biggars if he would like a game of golf and passed him a golf club.
Biggars conceeded defeat and returned to the fold.
Biggars decided to get fit. To do this, he decided to cycle the 6 miles to Rolls Royce and 6 miles from Rolls Royce on his trusty steed named “Trigger”
This did not go down well in The CUS mobile, not because they missed Biggars company, but because “Zero Proof Tick” would not balance and Lone ran out of fag money before the end of the week.
CUSS decided on a campaign of physiological war fare.
Lone, being the master strategist, worked out a plan where the CUS mobile would overtake Biggars on the A38 and then mysteriously overtake him again! This was not what you might call, a diabolically clever plan, as Biggars quickly worked out that the CUS mobile was turning off at some side road ahead and hiding in a field gate, only to reappear behind him again.
This happened on three occasions, each time the Cus mobile would slowly overtake Biggars with all its occupants staring fixedly ahead their faces expressionless.
Finally Biggars spotted where the Cuss mobile turned and followed it down the lane. Sure enough the car stopped in a gate and the engine was switched off. When Biggars arrived, Lone, A.D. and Garth were huddled down in the foot wells of the car with their eyes shut, as if by not seeing Biggars standing there with his arms folded looking at them, he could not see them!
Lone decided to up the stakes.
One evening the CUS mobile drew alongside Biggars, who for him, was achieving the dizzy speed of 8 mph on Trigger. A.D., who was seated on the passenger’s side wound down the window and asked Biggars if he would like a drink. Biggars thanked A.D. and accepted a bottle of water, and then A.D. asked if Biggars would like a Mars Bar, Biggars accepted. He now had a bottle of water and an unwrapped Mars bar to deal with, plus his break neck speed. The final straw was when Garth asked Biggars if he would like a game of golf and passed him a golf club.
Biggars conceeded defeat and returned to the fold.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Briefcase.
Lone was given a new briefcase for Christmas. Lone was very proud of his new briefcase as he felt it gave him status in the cut and thrust, dog eat dog world of the Materials Laboratory in Rolls Royce. This has been mentioned before but is worth repeating; Lone is a Metallurgist, he wanted to be a Meteorologist but miss spelt it on his application form to the career's officer.
The briefcase was brown leather with two compartments for Lones important documents and it had little leather loops that you could put your pens in. It also had a brass clasp which had a combination lock. This was nominally set at 000000, but Lone thought this lack status and decided to change the combination. He cast around for a suitable number that would be uncrackable by a would be thief discarding birthdays of sons, wife, cat etc, and hit on the brilliant idea that he felt was foolproof of using Biggars birthday, which was 22 11 39.
In practice this has proved not to be a good idea.
Lone found this out when present at a meeting of high powered executives from the world of striations. Lone with a flourish lifted his briefcase to the table intending to extract his brilliant dissertation on turbine blade failure only to find the briefcase locked and he had forgotten Biggars birthday. This was before mobile phones, so in front of the assembled committee Lone had to ring Biggars and ask him what date was his birthday! Biggars knew nothing of the clandestine use of his particulars and obliged Lone, in front of all, to explain his brilliant, if flawed plan.
Lone was given a new briefcase for Christmas. Lone was very proud of his new briefcase as he felt it gave him status in the cut and thrust, dog eat dog world of the Materials Laboratory in Rolls Royce. This has been mentioned before but is worth repeating; Lone is a Metallurgist, he wanted to be a Meteorologist but miss spelt it on his application form to the career's officer.
The briefcase was brown leather with two compartments for Lones important documents and it had little leather loops that you could put your pens in. It also had a brass clasp which had a combination lock. This was nominally set at 000000, but Lone thought this lack status and decided to change the combination. He cast around for a suitable number that would be uncrackable by a would be thief discarding birthdays of sons, wife, cat etc, and hit on the brilliant idea that he felt was foolproof of using Biggars birthday, which was 22 11 39.
In practice this has proved not to be a good idea.
Lone found this out when present at a meeting of high powered executives from the world of striations. Lone with a flourish lifted his briefcase to the table intending to extract his brilliant dissertation on turbine blade failure only to find the briefcase locked and he had forgotten Biggars birthday. This was before mobile phones, so in front of the assembled committee Lone had to ring Biggars and ask him what date was his birthday! Biggars knew nothing of the clandestine use of his particulars and obliged Lone, in front of all, to explain his brilliant, if flawed plan.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Lone 50
Lones day started with a flight? in a simulator at Aerospace arranged by Yvon, No, this is not spelt incorrectly she has always been called Yvon.
It would seem that Lone crashed Concorde into Kai Tac airport Hong Kong, killing most of the cities population.
Of course he had the traditional CUS breakfast at a transport cafe but I can't remember where. Following work we all assembled at The Ship Hotel for some Holsten Replacement Therapy. As Lone was enjoying his pint and was preparing himself for "Anything with no questions asked", Crocket drew up outside the bar driving a fully operational cement mixer.
I feel I should say a few words about Cements Mixers, as they figure high in the CUS psyche. One day we were following a cement lorry into work and Lone made the statement that "Cement lorries did not mix cement, they only separated the ingredients" Now CUS collectively loves this type of statement and AD, Biggars and Garth immediately pounced on Lone rubbishing his words. Lone not being one to back down defended his statement, the debate went on for years. So much so that CUS took these behemoths of industry to their bosom.
Did you know that the drums rotate anticlock wise looking forward in the UK and that in the USA they rotate clockwise looking forward!. Be warned don't ask a CUS member about cement mixers as they will bore the pants off you.
Anyway Crockett loaded Lone into his cab and drove him to The White Hart at Littleton. Then he was dressed in a bright red Jump suit. It was two sizes too small and he had to stand like a banana but we told him he was going to die anyway so why worry about details.
Into the field opposite the pub flew Eddie Clapham in his two seater microlight and we strapped a very pale Lone into the front seat. He was at this stage protesting that the jump suit was pressing on his three pints and he wanted to go to the toilet. Too late we cried, much too late.
They took off, I swear bouncing off a grazing cow and disappeared towards Wales.
On the way back in the car to Lones house I had serious misgivings about Ediies navigational skills. We were driving along the intended flight path and we should have seen him en route. By the time we reached Lone house I had fully rehearsed my speech to Yvon on CUS killing her husband on his birthday and that it was just one big misunderstanding.
On a hill behind Lones house the party assembled to spell happy birthday in bodies and Bolt, he's nuts that Bolt, set up a customs desk.
Lone and Eddie finally landed and Lone explained that they had to set down on a sand bank in the middle of the river Severn to have a pee. They satisfactorily passed through customs and then Lone got on this horse. Lone was as far away from being a horse whisper as you could get and the horse promptly emptied its bowels. AD said "I dont know about you being scared Lone but the horse has just shit itself"
Finally to a bar b que in Lones garden where a huge cake had been prepared and at the appropriate moment, from the top, burst this fair maid in fish net stockings and very little else. It gets very hazy from now on.
Lones day started with a flight? in a simulator at Aerospace arranged by Yvon, No, this is not spelt incorrectly she has always been called Yvon.
It would seem that Lone crashed Concorde into Kai Tac airport Hong Kong, killing most of the cities population.
Of course he had the traditional CUS breakfast at a transport cafe but I can't remember where. Following work we all assembled at The Ship Hotel for some Holsten Replacement Therapy. As Lone was enjoying his pint and was preparing himself for "Anything with no questions asked", Crocket drew up outside the bar driving a fully operational cement mixer.
I feel I should say a few words about Cements Mixers, as they figure high in the CUS psyche. One day we were following a cement lorry into work and Lone made the statement that "Cement lorries did not mix cement, they only separated the ingredients" Now CUS collectively loves this type of statement and AD, Biggars and Garth immediately pounced on Lone rubbishing his words. Lone not being one to back down defended his statement, the debate went on for years. So much so that CUS took these behemoths of industry to their bosom.
Did you know that the drums rotate anticlock wise looking forward in the UK and that in the USA they rotate clockwise looking forward!. Be warned don't ask a CUS member about cement mixers as they will bore the pants off you.
Anyway Crockett loaded Lone into his cab and drove him to The White Hart at Littleton. Then he was dressed in a bright red Jump suit. It was two sizes too small and he had to stand like a banana but we told him he was going to die anyway so why worry about details.
Into the field opposite the pub flew Eddie Clapham in his two seater microlight and we strapped a very pale Lone into the front seat. He was at this stage protesting that the jump suit was pressing on his three pints and he wanted to go to the toilet. Too late we cried, much too late.
They took off, I swear bouncing off a grazing cow and disappeared towards Wales.
On the way back in the car to Lones house I had serious misgivings about Ediies navigational skills. We were driving along the intended flight path and we should have seen him en route. By the time we reached Lone house I had fully rehearsed my speech to Yvon on CUS killing her husband on his birthday and that it was just one big misunderstanding.
On a hill behind Lones house the party assembled to spell happy birthday in bodies and Bolt, he's nuts that Bolt, set up a customs desk.
Lone and Eddie finally landed and Lone explained that they had to set down on a sand bank in the middle of the river Severn to have a pee. They satisfactorily passed through customs and then Lone got on this horse. Lone was as far away from being a horse whisper as you could get and the horse promptly emptied its bowels. AD said "I dont know about you being scared Lone but the horse has just shit itself"
Finally to a bar b que in Lones garden where a huge cake had been prepared and at the appropriate moment, from the top, burst this fair maid in fish net stockings and very little else. It gets very hazy from now on.
Friday, June 22, 2007
AD's Fiftieth
This may be out of sequence as I can,t remember how old Lone is. However in the true spirit of C.U.S. press on and damn the details.
AD was a bargain hunter and could be seen roaming the local supermarkets late PM Fridays looking for the out of sale by date bargains. He also like cooking, Bristol Rovers and pigeon shooting (This can't be true AD couldn't kill anything!) Never the less on the morning of his fiftieth he was collected in the C.U.S. mobile by Lone, Biggars, Garth and Lil ( Can't remember her real name but she lived in Patchway) Lil was wearing a full length evening gown and looking radiant. Garth was in evening dress and wearing a spoon on his nose (He often did this when he was happy!) Biggars was also in a dress suit, which if the truth be known was too tight for him as it was bought to fit him and his two sons at Macro for forty quid.
We all drove to the Castle where we had a full English in the most English of settings. AD had a croissant with Happy Birthday written in icing on it.
From the Castle we drove to Safeway where AD was greeted by the manager in the foyer and presented with a bottle of wine, as a token of his loyalty to the store.
Somehow later we found ourselves on the banks of the River Severn with enough firepower to invade Duckhole. Apparently this arsenal was owned by Crocket who sold fish and cheese in The Anchor Bar. (He sold Biggars a crab one night when Biggars was very drunk and when Morning Mary came to take him home, he proudly showed her his purchase. "You cant eat that" she said, "Its still alive". "Yes but" Biggars replied" Crocket said, "You just drop it on a pan of boiling water and that's it!" "Are you going to do it?" said Morning Mary looking long at him. Biggars got out of the car and released £6.00 of crustation back in to the Severn.)
Anyway Crockett had supplied these guns so that AD could have a go at clay pigeon shooting. We did this for half an hour then with very sore shoulders and ringing ears returned to the Anchor bar. Here Dosser, (Mike Dowdswell the landlord of the Anchor what had a sister in Crossroads what had her bags done) sent AD to the kitchen where AD cooked our lunch. Can't remember what is was other than it wasn't pigeon!
Then we drove over to the Bath pitch and put course for a short game of golf calling in at Bristol Rovers training ground where was presented with Rovers memorabilia by ? There was an incident when Lone had aconfronation with a milk float but Lone was always having confrontations with milk floats, perhaps his mother was frightened by one when she was carrying him. We do know that Lone got his lines down his face because his mother continued to breast feed through the school railings.
On return to Thornbury, CUS had a sauna at the Sports Centre then all trouped down the high street in our dressing gowns to Castle Street where AD had a full body massage.He refused to turn over, so Lone says.
Hi birthday ended at a party somewhere and CUS got drunk.I dont actually remember this but thats what normally happened.
This may be out of sequence as I can,t remember how old Lone is. However in the true spirit of C.U.S. press on and damn the details.
AD was a bargain hunter and could be seen roaming the local supermarkets late PM Fridays looking for the out of sale by date bargains. He also like cooking, Bristol Rovers and pigeon shooting (This can't be true AD couldn't kill anything!) Never the less on the morning of his fiftieth he was collected in the C.U.S. mobile by Lone, Biggars, Garth and Lil ( Can't remember her real name but she lived in Patchway) Lil was wearing a full length evening gown and looking radiant. Garth was in evening dress and wearing a spoon on his nose (He often did this when he was happy!) Biggars was also in a dress suit, which if the truth be known was too tight for him as it was bought to fit him and his two sons at Macro for forty quid.
We all drove to the Castle where we had a full English in the most English of settings. AD had a croissant with Happy Birthday written in icing on it.
From the Castle we drove to Safeway where AD was greeted by the manager in the foyer and presented with a bottle of wine, as a token of his loyalty to the store.
Somehow later we found ourselves on the banks of the River Severn with enough firepower to invade Duckhole. Apparently this arsenal was owned by Crocket who sold fish and cheese in The Anchor Bar. (He sold Biggars a crab one night when Biggars was very drunk and when Morning Mary came to take him home, he proudly showed her his purchase. "You cant eat that" she said, "Its still alive". "Yes but" Biggars replied" Crocket said, "You just drop it on a pan of boiling water and that's it!" "Are you going to do it?" said Morning Mary looking long at him. Biggars got out of the car and released £6.00 of crustation back in to the Severn.)
Anyway Crockett had supplied these guns so that AD could have a go at clay pigeon shooting. We did this for half an hour then with very sore shoulders and ringing ears returned to the Anchor bar. Here Dosser, (Mike Dowdswell the landlord of the Anchor what had a sister in Crossroads what had her bags done) sent AD to the kitchen where AD cooked our lunch. Can't remember what is was other than it wasn't pigeon!
Then we drove over to the Bath pitch and put course for a short game of golf calling in at Bristol Rovers training ground where was presented with Rovers memorabilia by ? There was an incident when Lone had aconfronation with a milk float but Lone was always having confrontations with milk floats, perhaps his mother was frightened by one when she was carrying him. We do know that Lone got his lines down his face because his mother continued to breast feed through the school railings.
On return to Thornbury, CUS had a sauna at the Sports Centre then all trouped down the high street in our dressing gowns to Castle Street where AD had a full body massage.He refused to turn over, so Lone says.
Hi birthday ended at a party somewhere and CUS got drunk.I dont actually remember this but thats what normally happened.
C.U.S. birthdays
It all started when Biggars was 50. The transport cafe full fry up was not considered elegant enough for this occasion. So on a very cold November morning on the grass verge bordering the Grovesend road, a table was set up with a snowy white tablecloth, candelabra and Gills best dinner service. C.U.S. looking splendid in full evening dress sat down to champagne and a magnificent English breakfast served on silver (Well EPNS) platters delivered at the run from Gills kitchen which was across a very busy road. This event was not reported in by Horse and Hounds or Hello magazines.
It all started when Biggars was 50. The transport cafe full fry up was not considered elegant enough for this occasion. So on a very cold November morning on the grass verge bordering the Grovesend road, a table was set up with a snowy white tablecloth, candelabra and Gills best dinner service. C.U.S. looking splendid in full evening dress sat down to champagne and a magnificent English breakfast served on silver (Well EPNS) platters delivered at the run from Gills kitchen which was across a very busy road. This event was not reported in by Horse and Hounds or Hello magazines.
Oh woe
AD,s marriage to Gill could be stormy, particularly when it was the wrong time of the month, the wrong time for Gill not AD!
One morning he got into the car and said, that when he got home last night he found that the porch light did not work, the key snapped off in the front door, AD,s eldest said that his chain had come off his derailleur (AD was accused of having an affair with the woman in Isles and King, the bicycle shop just so that she would repair his three kids bikes!), Gill yelled at him from the kitchen, that the washing machine wasnt working. AD carried on walking through the house and tripped over Tigger, their ginger moggie who hated AD out of the back gate and straight down to the Black Horse.
After a long pause after relating this tale of woe AD sighed and said "Do you know that everythings fucked in are house except Gill!"
AD,s marriage to Gill could be stormy, particularly when it was the wrong time of the month, the wrong time for Gill not AD!
One morning he got into the car and said, that when he got home last night he found that the porch light did not work, the key snapped off in the front door, AD,s eldest said that his chain had come off his derailleur (AD was accused of having an affair with the woman in Isles and King, the bicycle shop just so that she would repair his three kids bikes!), Gill yelled at him from the kitchen, that the washing machine wasnt working. AD carried on walking through the house and tripped over Tigger, their ginger moggie who hated AD out of the back gate and straight down to the Black Horse.
After a long pause after relating this tale of woe AD sighed and said "Do you know that everythings fucked in are house except Gill!"
Breakfast
C.U.S. loved an occasion, any occasion was suitably celebrated, be it birthday, mothers day, anniversary, Lone packing up smoking, Garth loosing his virginity, (I had it when I was in The Anchor last night and when I woke up it was gone!) in fact there were times when occasions were invented just so that C.U.S. could celebrate.
Whatever the occasion, the one constant was it started with a breakfast in a transport cafe. All the transport cafes en route to Rolls Royce were explored. Some had more character than others. The Britannia Cafe had and owner who C.U.S. dubbed "Orpheus" after an engine that was produced at R.R. and fitted into the Britannia Aeroplane. This engined was oily and smoked just like the proprietor of the cafe.
However his sales technique could not be faulted. You would be stood in the queue say five or six in line. The first person would ask for bacon and eggs and tea and he would respond smoking a fag and pouring the tea at the same time, "Sausage?" Then next person noting the sally would be prepared. "Eggs, bacon, Sausage and tea!" He would say smugly "Fried bread?" the fag would move up and down as his spoke but the ash would magically stay on the end. By the time he got to your plate it would be piled with every conceivable thing that could be placed in a frying pan and the £2.99 breakfast would cost you twenty quid.
There was one cafe called The Cup and Saucer who never batted an eyebrow when we turned up in dinner suits and the Molls in full length ball gowns. It had a stack of eggs, in their trays, on the counter. There must have been over a hundred eggs stacked vertically. One day we marked an egg about three trays from the bottom with a felt tip. Two years later it was still there.
Every birthday C.U.S. would assemble in one of the cafes at circa 0700 sometimes wearing party hats with streamers and at Christmas there were crackers. The truckers would take one bemused look and then get back to the Sun or Mirror. The need to start a occasion with a fried breakfast led to the celebration of C.U.S members fiftieth birthdays........
C.U.S. loved an occasion, any occasion was suitably celebrated, be it birthday, mothers day, anniversary, Lone packing up smoking, Garth loosing his virginity, (I had it when I was in The Anchor last night and when I woke up it was gone!) in fact there were times when occasions were invented just so that C.U.S. could celebrate.
Whatever the occasion, the one constant was it started with a breakfast in a transport cafe. All the transport cafes en route to Rolls Royce were explored. Some had more character than others. The Britannia Cafe had and owner who C.U.S. dubbed "Orpheus" after an engine that was produced at R.R. and fitted into the Britannia Aeroplane. This engined was oily and smoked just like the proprietor of the cafe.
However his sales technique could not be faulted. You would be stood in the queue say five or six in line. The first person would ask for bacon and eggs and tea and he would respond smoking a fag and pouring the tea at the same time, "Sausage?" Then next person noting the sally would be prepared. "Eggs, bacon, Sausage and tea!" He would say smugly "Fried bread?" the fag would move up and down as his spoke but the ash would magically stay on the end. By the time he got to your plate it would be piled with every conceivable thing that could be placed in a frying pan and the £2.99 breakfast would cost you twenty quid.
There was one cafe called The Cup and Saucer who never batted an eyebrow when we turned up in dinner suits and the Molls in full length ball gowns. It had a stack of eggs, in their trays, on the counter. There must have been over a hundred eggs stacked vertically. One day we marked an egg about three trays from the bottom with a felt tip. Two years later it was still there.
Every birthday C.U.S. would assemble in one of the cafes at circa 0700 sometimes wearing party hats with streamers and at Christmas there were crackers. The truckers would take one bemused look and then get back to the Sun or Mirror. The need to start a occasion with a fried breakfast led to the celebration of C.U.S members fiftieth birthdays........
TIGGER
On one journey we picked up A.D. who was in a sombre mood, this was unusual for him. We had travelled for a mile or so in an uneasy silence before Lone, who was never backwards in coming forwards said, “What’s up A.D.? ”. A.D. said, “Tiggers dead”. This confused C.U.S. as we knew A.D. hated Tigger, a crossbred moggie owned by Gillian, A.D.’s wife, Tiger also hated A.D. with a passion, hissing, clawing and spitting whenever A.D. went near him. Out of respect for A.D’s grief C.U.S. fell silent. This silence became strained the longer it went on.
Lone and I knew that Garth could not let this silence last.
“Can I have the skin?” Garth asked.
At first there was a stunned silence as even for Garth this sounded a tad callous.
“What the fuck do you want the skin for?” Lone and I chorused.
“To make a Davy Crocket hat with,” said Garth in a hurt tone.
On one journey we picked up A.D. who was in a sombre mood, this was unusual for him. We had travelled for a mile or so in an uneasy silence before Lone, who was never backwards in coming forwards said, “What’s up A.D.? ”. A.D. said, “Tiggers dead”. This confused C.U.S. as we knew A.D. hated Tigger, a crossbred moggie owned by Gillian, A.D.’s wife, Tiger also hated A.D. with a passion, hissing, clawing and spitting whenever A.D. went near him. Out of respect for A.D’s grief C.U.S. fell silent. This silence became strained the longer it went on.
Lone and I knew that Garth could not let this silence last.
“Can I have the skin?” Garth asked.
At first there was a stunned silence as even for Garth this sounded a tad callous.
“What the fuck do you want the skin for?” Lone and I chorused.
“To make a Davy Crocket hat with,” said Garth in a hurt tone.
C.U.S. Molls
CUS carried many passengers during their 11 years of travels, some on a more frequent basis than others. Among the guest list were girls or C.U.S. molls as they became to be known. They were always pretty and always had a sense of humour.
There was one Moll called Liz, she lived at Oldbury upon Severn opposite Lone and her husband was a Spaniard who drank in the Anchor bar and borrowed Lones lawn mower.
Biggars once asked Lone what Juan family name was. Lone said Kerr!
Unusually Liz was not given a CUS nickname so Liz who was pretty and petite remained Liz.
It had been a particularly busy morning for CUS; there were the tyres to mark so that when they stopped at the paper shop the nearest mark to the ground won. The temperature to be noted so that when the car passed Patchway Motors, which had a digital temperature gauge on the roof, the figure could be taken and finally Garth had a new batch of puerile jokes to entertain CUS with. Liz, who had hitched a lift, was on the way to a typing exam and Garth had reduced her to tears with his Country House Fire joke. She jumped out of the car at the traffic lights unable to see for laughing and collided with the traffic lights metal post.
Much later in The Anchor bar she told CUS of her day. She had somehow made it to the exam room with her eyes streaming and occasionally startling a passer-bye with explosions of suppressed laughter. The exam was another matter. When the examiner called for silence, Liz knew she was in trouble. She stared at the exam paper in desperation, trying to focus on the place where it said “Your name here”. The silence was palpable and she was aware that her shoulders were shaking and the examiner was looking at her with some concern. Eventually she could contain it no longer as the punch line for the joke surfaced in her mind. She exploded! She gave a huge snotty guffaw and fled from the room.
CUS carried many passengers during their 11 years of travels, some on a more frequent basis than others. Among the guest list were girls or C.U.S. molls as they became to be known. They were always pretty and always had a sense of humour.
There was one Moll called Liz, she lived at Oldbury upon Severn opposite Lone and her husband was a Spaniard who drank in the Anchor bar and borrowed Lones lawn mower.
Biggars once asked Lone what Juan family name was. Lone said Kerr!
Unusually Liz was not given a CUS nickname so Liz who was pretty and petite remained Liz.
It had been a particularly busy morning for CUS; there were the tyres to mark so that when they stopped at the paper shop the nearest mark to the ground won. The temperature to be noted so that when the car passed Patchway Motors, which had a digital temperature gauge on the roof, the figure could be taken and finally Garth had a new batch of puerile jokes to entertain CUS with. Liz, who had hitched a lift, was on the way to a typing exam and Garth had reduced her to tears with his Country House Fire joke. She jumped out of the car at the traffic lights unable to see for laughing and collided with the traffic lights metal post.
Much later in The Anchor bar she told CUS of her day. She had somehow made it to the exam room with her eyes streaming and occasionally startling a passer-bye with explosions of suppressed laughter. The exam was another matter. When the examiner called for silence, Liz knew she was in trouble. She stared at the exam paper in desperation, trying to focus on the place where it said “Your name here”. The silence was palpable and she was aware that her shoulders were shaking and the examiner was looking at her with some concern. Eventually she could contain it no longer as the punch line for the joke surfaced in her mind. She exploded! She gave a huge snotty guffaw and fled from the room.
H.R.T.herapy
C.U.S. would take this remedy to relieve the stresses of a long day building aeroplane engines at Rolls Royce. H.R.T. to C.U.S. was not Hormone Replacement Therapy but Holsten Replacement Therapy. The Ship Hotel had a special offer on at 6.00pm every evening for a pint of Holsten. So on the strict understanding that we would have "Just the one", C.U.S. would pause for refreshment. Inevitably it would not stop at just one as we would often be led astray by the likes of Bob Morgan or Bolty or Joe or Liz or ................
C.U.S. would take this remedy to relieve the stresses of a long day building aeroplane engines at Rolls Royce. H.R.T. to C.U.S. was not Hormone Replacement Therapy but Holsten Replacement Therapy. The Ship Hotel had a special offer on at 6.00pm every evening for a pint of Holsten. So on the strict understanding that we would have "Just the one", C.U.S. would pause for refreshment. Inevitably it would not stop at just one as we would often be led astray by the likes of Bob Morgan or Bolty or Joe or Liz or ................
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