Tuesday, September 15, 2009

A Chelsea Pensioner Speaks

Nothing beats drink, poetry, and younger women. Not necessarily in that order you understand, it's just a question of correctly mixing the cocktail.

My Dublin mate Finbar thought he had it sussed with Jimmy Bond fantasies, BMW's, and Paddy Power whisky. As a mere naif it was understandable that Special Branch should arrest him under the Prevention of Terrorism (Temporary Provisions) Act (1974) and severely question him for 24 hours under a bare 150 watt bulb. I believe there was also a controlled explosion involving underpants, but it's best not to elaborate.

You've got to get the formula right. Poetry is good with younger women of a sensitive and dreamy disposition, and if that doesn't work you can always ply them with the drink. I draw the line at alchopops, but something sophisticated like Southern Comfort and Ketamine usually does the trick. Cars don't help, unless you can lay your hands on a Citreon Traction Avant or a Mini still fragrant from Cilla Black's knickers.

It takes an old campaigner to teach the young fellers the tricks. It's the subtle variations on the formula see, that's what gets you the gusset.

I can provide a number of tricks and permutations if a couple of packets of digestive biscuits and a half bottle of Bells are left off at the Barracks. It'll have to be incognito mind, otherwise that Ernie from the Crimea will snaffle the lot, the thieving bastard.

I'm off to polish my button.


Madame DeFarge said...

I like a man who knows how to polish his button. And poetry too? You must be in demand amongst a certain type of lady callers.

garfer said...

How dare you speak ill of my nephew.

I survived the Anglo Afghan war of 1849 and received barely a gusset in compensation.

KAZ said...

I recommend a cup of Ovaltine and a toasted crumpet.
They would be more effective in bringing on drowsiness as you seek the gusset.

Betty said...

I hope this is the first of a series and next time you publish advice from those old wardogs the Rolling Stones. After all, Ron Wood's combination of booze, dyed hair and terrible abilities as a painter have all contributed to him being a hit with considerably younger women.