Carradale

[bubbly jock]

You'll find I am no bantam my lad and you'll be chasing me in the wrong direction if you think I live anywhere near auld crouche.

And I'll tell you why i'm not too keen on the shore road The last time I was there it took a wee while for the smell of kippers to leave my feathers and the chicks had heard that big freuchie had thoughts about going into smoked fowl. Haven't been back since. Don't suppose there's any danger now but you never know what you'll meet down that neck of the woods Too good a place for an ambush. Even the temptation of the seaweed and the shells won't get me back there.

Better stravaiging roon Loch park where all these "toffs" throw oot a better class of peckings and the added bonus of keeping an eye on the Omans doon below. Saw one of them the last day coming out a car that looked more like a space ship but the colour of the troosers and shirt told me he must have put a morning in down the pit. I suppose your all still partial to a wee bit oh coal. Eh.

bubbly

[mornish]

as a crofter LO im also a fencer, no offence intended in any way.

[mornish]

maybe the folk are afraid of the shore road because they heard a ghostly rendition of "hens march to the midden"played on a fiddle, by a man long gone from these parts?

[bubbly jock]

Took L'Os advice and went a march to the midden the day and I'm not saying who's house it was but when I came out I took a wee gander roon tae erchie bob's. There's great peckings there shelfish and guts.

The only danger is while you're enjoying it, you need to watch Helen disnae run you doon.

bubbly

[Sanyanya]

There you are Bochan Mor, your naw dealing with any bantam weight this time.

I reckon that you've come up against one of thon 'Super Roosters'. They were bred in the Toon in the late 50s as an alternative to Ballantynes geese.

You'd see them patrolling the fences of the towns distilleries, pecking the hands off anyone who thought they were at all handy, like a Bob I once knew.

I think the last rooster was put out to corn in the early 80s. They've been treated like royalty ever since. if I'm right, your Saxa Salt will hold no fear for this Jock, he aint no chicken!

[bubbly jock]

Saxa salt is what I use for talcum powder when I come out the puddles.

Just thought you would like to know

[Bochan Mor]

Aye the kipper hoose was the place for rolling in the salt.

Next you'd be asked to roll in the sugar.

Last but not least you'd be offered a splendid tot of demerara rum, and had you taken it, you'd have been well & truly hooked by the smoker and hung by the claws until the oil had been smoked fae your feathers.

You would have looked fearful, but 'Oh ma boy,' smelt delicious. The visitors would have walked that extra mile to sample your aromatic offerings. Peking duck would have nothing on you!

Hear now, maybe your the one that escaped with knowledge of the much acclaimed process & recipe. You might be the only living being that knows how to reporoduce those tasty treats of yesteryear. Even Forsyth Hamilton, 'The Perfect Husband' is a thing of the past.

Come on Bubbly, spill the beans and publish the recipe, bring us all back to Utopia!

[Sanyanya]

We used to smoke things ourselves. Well kind of anyway. It was a natural process, carried out in a tent. The only snag was, your clathes smelt like Bubbly's feathers, and there was no way of shifting it.

Even the poor doags smelled of smoke. Some of the other school children found it over-powering, but I always found it quite comforting. It reminded me of hame...

[morenish]

whats the best thing for smoking, oak chips or some other weed?

[bubbly jock]

Bochan mor

,I was away all weekend at the Ayr show. I did well rosettes and strutting roon the coop.

Ermer the fermer from the laggan 20 was there with his pal wullie from the Bleachfield, what a pair. Me and wullies mother thought we would have to knit him a wee woman but he's sorted now and she is the blonde he always wanted. Well on the outside anyway.

Recipe? I'm not saying I know it or not but if I was to divulge it, Erchie bob would be holidaying in Barbados every year and I don't think the locals could handle Helen in the hire drive.

There is also the possibility that the rumour is true that the recipe has to be kept secret for three generations to allow for the Omans and the Paterson's to have their genes well watered doon to handle the responsibility of the knowledge.

I'll go now, the roost is looking inviting after the hectic weekend and the latest bird is clocking and yes I did too much of the three claw shuffle, feeling my age a bit. Suppose I should be grateful I am too tough for the barnes's pot.

bubbly

[The Scouder]

Well bubbly, you had a better weekend than me for sure.

I'm definitely not the fit young thing I used to be.
Instead of making Waterfoot, I got washed round the point, past Portrigh right round to the quay. Just when I saw I was thinking about whose ropes I was going to cling to I got horsed back into the Sound and ended up at the Shark Factory. Well boys there's not much craic up there these days let me tell you.

After a few hours recovery I cranked up the old laptop and boys o-dear, what do I find? The devil's music! Bochan Roll and reports of some very unsavoury sounding practices in the smokehouses of yore.
If you've got the secret bubbly, tell them nothing.

Well I'm away now - it's a miserable night here - cold and nothing to slide over, but at least no-one's ever going to smoke a scouder, least of all that self-publicising poltroon they call Bochan Mor.

Watch out Pink Eyes - I'll be back and I've got my eye on you!

[Thewetman]

A cockerel that calls himself Bubbly, cavorts with farmers wives and knits. Too much.
Old Maggie had a cock we called him Adolf. He would strut across the shore legs stretched out in front like a storm trooper, like a splinted chieftain, chest puffed.
As time went by his deformity became more pronounced and he could be heard at all hours, practicing his political rhetoric, denouncing the innkeeper.
One morning she wrung his neck right in front of our eyes, but not for his pathetic attempts at human mimic, for she never noticed, that was our imagination, but rather because he was making a damn nuisance of himself, keeping the hens awake and off their task.
Mr Jock a rampant such as yourself ought to be careful, perhaps your suffering from that foul ailment or maybe you've just got an over active imagination. Just beware of upsetting too many people - beast or fowl.

[bubbly jock]

Aye well Jack Straw I suppose you're right it's not nice to offend people, beast or fowl and your subtle threats are taken on board and as we live in a democracy Jack and you being in Mr Blairs cabinet you'll know all about that. That's a great photo of you jack and you look fierce but you wont mind me saying that wringing any creatures neck in public is cruel Hope it was quick for the old bird. Maybe best to leave this thread alone

I never thought you folk at the Largieside were so touchy Is it because you lost the last ploughing match but I'll away and I bid you good day.

Apologies to my friends the Omans. Bochan mors. patersons and all those north of saddell who are as easily offended as Mr Straw from the Largieside. May you always stay wet

Bubbly

[LO]

[That's a great photo of you jack and you look fierce

Just when it looked as if this thread could not become more surreal along comes Mr Cutler pretending to be someone from The Largieside. No point in trying to remonstrae with this man Bubbly, not after what he did to a certain sparrow called Fremsley. Absolutely no remorse. We should leave it there, that's all I'm saying.

[Admin3]

Like many this thread has completely lost me!

However, should the board have any concerns over peoples' names being mentioned on here or not? I can't work it out myself!!