Post by dazbt on Dec 1, 2012 6:10:24 GMT -5
"Cheap Kitchens Preston. Cheap Kitchens sale on www.cheapo kitchens.cu.uk. £495 for full kitchen with appliance.
I remember when this 'cheap kitchen mob' started up in Yorkshire a good few years back, it resulted in the untimely death of one of my ancestors, my GGGGGGGGGreat Uncle Vic from Denmark;
Old Vic the Viking leader was ready to leave on his annual spring cleaning trip to Yorkshire, you know the normal pillaging, raping slaughtering type of tidying up. He had got the team up early hoping to get set off before his wife, Big Gertie had woken, he failed…… just as they were all ready to launch the boat, one foot in and the other pushing off the beach Gertie came racing down the sands, still in her see through bearskin nightie and her hair in a mess. “ Hold on a minute Vic you’ve forgotten the shopping list”. Vic tried to push off but she grabbed his leg and held him, the forty foot longboat and the fifty Viking Warrior oarsmen (Who in full effort developed about sixty five Brake Horse Power, they didn’t call her Big Gertie for nothing), “ I want you to remember about them kitchen units you promised, them new fancy things that Fingle makes in Ilkley” “Sorry luv, I had forgotten” Vic replied his leg now stretched to twice its length “I wasn’t sure that you meant it, or whether you were just pulling my leg”.
“Don’t give me all these excuses you know what I want, I want a double larder unit and most importantly I need a sink unit, in oak. Here’s a map, you go to Ilkley and find Mike Fingle’s factory he trades under the name MFI, you can’t miss it and tell him you want a larder cupboard and a sink unit”
Vic managed eventually to pull free and the boat is catapulted out to sea, “Bye luv” he shouts, “Don’t forget the sink and keep the raping to a minimum, just remember your prostate” she screams.
“Bloody sink “ he thinks to himself as the boat heads out to sea, “ She doesn’t know what she wants, reads all these fancy catalogues and just has to have the newest and best, bet she doesn’t even know how to use a sink”
Anyway, the saga continues more in a true Viking style, the North Sea as it has for generations does its very best to protect the undefended shores of friendly Yorkshire, the winds blows against these brave but trouble causing venturers, huge waves swamp the galley as the sea tries to deter these valiant warriors, but still they plow forward. The storm becomes so bad that the single mast and the King Size bed sheet sail is torn to shreds, Vic makes a mental note to call in at M&S in Bridlington and pillage a replacement, maybe a couple of pillaged pillow cases as well. The storm gets worse and at the first flash of lightening the crew show signs of restless concern, one of the younger lads known as Kenneth Skull Crusher (but Wimpy Ken to his mates), raises his hand and on gaining Vic’s attention suggests that they turn back, Vic standing proud at the prow of the boat gives this due consideration and then struggling down the boast’s length climbing across the still heaving bodies of the rowers, he reaches Ken and spends a few minutes trying to explain to the lad about Viking valour, honour and how it is very Anti Valhalla to give way to the forces of both men or nature, that their destiny is preordained by some greater force, failing to mention that Vic’s own destiny at the hands of Big Gertie was more preordained than most, especially if he went back without a sink unit, whatever one of those was. Ken listened and then tried to speak again, but Vic stopped him short, well stopped him in the sense that it is extremely difficult to talk with a big hairy arm down your throat pulling your heart up into your throat. The quality of rowing immediately improved and the longboat bounced ever onward over the very tops of the giant stormy waves. Vic made his way back to the head of the boat standing legs askew with his giant axe held high above his head in challenge of nature’s worst, big mistake here really, the metal edge of his axe acted as an invitation to old Thor who took advantage and threw Vic a few thousand volts, sparks flew and Vic’s horns straightened, his body shook violently and when it was passed he just stood there staring straight out to sea, well he would have done if he hadn’t been struck totally blind by the flash. Vic the Viking being the type of guy he was, insisted that the raiding party continued, he would never risk the taunts of being called a party pooper just because of minor thing like being struck blind.
Landing in Scarborough, blown a little bit off track but still not a bad guess without the aid of an AA map even, the crew shot off for a shot off and a bit of pillaging whilst Vic was guided up the South Shore beach by Eric Blood Dragon, (He was a veteran of theses coastal raids and it is thought by historians that this fiery Viking was responsible for the modern day Yorkshire exclamation of “Bloody Heck”……….that Viking’s back). Eric went forward into the town and commandeered a high speed chariot and local guide called Bart, they all set off then to Ilkely, not an easy task in them days. They arrived in Ilkely late that night, found the MFI and eventually Mike the proprietor hiding in one of his own waste disposal units, Eric collared him and presented him before Vic who looked him up and down in the classic style of a Viking Intimidater, to little avail of course being as he was totally blind. Vic explained his need for one of those new fangled sink unit things, but poor old terrified Mike tried to explain that the sinks had proved so popular he had sold every one some time ago, Vic wouldn’t have any of that and said quite simply that Mike should find one for him …….or else!! Mike gulped and realised that he was sinked, sorry sunk, he invited Vic to check his storeroom and see for himself that there were no sinks available, “I’m blind you stupid Yorkie how can I see what you have? Just get me a sink now or have your throat cut” Now Mike who was in fact an entrepreneur originally from the West of Ireland but lately avoiding the Black Country Excise Department and not a stupid Yorkshire man realising that the situation was a little dire to say the least, he decide to take a gamble. The chances were that Vic had absolutely no idea what a sink looked like and this along with the fact that he was totally blind caused cunning Mike to attempt a daring last ditch plan, he pointed to a builder’s hod standing in the corner and feigning surprise said ”Oh silly me there is one sink left I had forgotten that one, old Fanny Haddock was due to collect it tomorrow, you could take that one, it is of the very latest design, your good lady will love it.” Vic was a bit relieved although he obviously couldn’t show it, “Ok wrap it we will take it “ and in the same breath he told Eric to remove Mikes’s left eye, a classic act of Viking compassion and fair dealing, at least Mike could now keep an eye out for them coming back. So back out onto the bleakness of Ilkely Moors, Bert taking the reins for the return journey Vic in the back with Eric clutching the hod. (I bet you are wondering how the guide fits into “On Ilkely Moor Bart ‘At” ? Well in actual fact he doesn’t, on this occasion he wore a beret made of straw that he bought at Scarborough fair. Historical note; the Strawberets actually came from the Vale of Pickering).
Vic was pretty satisfied with the day trip to Scarborough and particularly the fact that he had obtained a sink for Big Gertie, happy in the belief that it would be enough for him to be allowed to sleep with the sheep, rather than have to share a bed with her, for another few months anyway or at least until the new Littlewood’s Autumn and Winter catalogue arrived. The crew had spent the day up to their normal tricks, too much free beer, a maiden here, create a widow there, fire a church a belly full of Yorkshire Puddings all the things that lads do on a day at the seaside. They all met up back at the boat early morning a bit worse for wear, as usual there a couple of the older lads with a Yorkshire wench draped about their shoulders each having forged Visas and au pair work permits, old Vic wouldn’t allow anything like that and Eric was prepared to tell him who the would be smugglers were, so to be honest there were one or two Sulking Scandinavian Scullers on the way home. Another couple of days bobbing about on the sea and they arrived home, Big Gertie stood on the foreshore, fairy liquid bottle in her hand in anticipation, as soon as the boat was beached she knew that something was wrong, Vic hadn’t leapt off the boat as he normally would and slipped Gertie a dummy, running past her to avoid having to kiss her, he merely stood until she spoke, “You’re a day late” she barked, “Where the bloody hell have yer been?” Vic explained about the terrible crossing, the storm and how he had been blinded by the lightening. “Storm” she screamed “Thought yer were all sailors? Blind? What the bloody hell yer done that for and where’s my sink unit?”
“Eric’s got it love, sorry we were delayed and I got blind but we did…..” Gertie never heard a word after the first statement, she had run forward and grabbed the parcel from Eric, ripping the paper off she paused a moment, screamed “What the bloody hell is this yer thick get” and began beating Vic about the helmet with the hod, being a big girl it only took half a dozen blows to smash his skull to pieces and leave him dead on the beach, now at this point Eric who really fancied Gertie saw his opportunity and went to comfort her, arm around her shoulder they walked up the beach, Gertie with tears of emotion cascading over her fat bloated cheeks, tears of real loss, when she suddenly realised that if she played her cards right then she might just persuade Eric to go back and get a proper sink unit, maybe even one of those Ikea models. Eric sidled up to her and in the best tradition of Viking loyalty to their leaders he attempted to tell her that Old Vic had done his best for her and that it wasn’t really her murdered husband’s fault, he did in fact at this point coin the phrase so well known throughout history and still as valid today as it was on that Viking Beach, “You know Gertie dear, he did love you and he did his best but I’m afraid fate was against him because as you should appreciate;
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AN HOD IS AS GOOD AS A SINK TO BLIND NORSE !!!!
I remember when this 'cheap kitchen mob' started up in Yorkshire a good few years back,
I remember when this 'cheap kitchen mob' started up in Yorkshire a good few years back, it resulted in the untimely death of one of my ancestors, my GGGGGGGGGreat Uncle Vic from Denmark;
Old Vic the Viking leader was ready to leave on his annual spring cleaning trip to Yorkshire, you know the normal pillaging, raping slaughtering type of tidying up. He had got the team up early hoping to get set off before his wife, Big Gertie had woken, he failed…… just as they were all ready to launch the boat, one foot in and the other pushing off the beach Gertie came racing down the sands, still in her see through bearskin nightie and her hair in a mess. “ Hold on a minute Vic you’ve forgotten the shopping list”. Vic tried to push off but she grabbed his leg and held him, the forty foot longboat and the fifty Viking Warrior oarsmen (Who in full effort developed about sixty five Brake Horse Power, they didn’t call her Big Gertie for nothing), “ I want you to remember about them kitchen units you promised, them new fancy things that Fingle makes in Ilkley” “Sorry luv, I had forgotten” Vic replied his leg now stretched to twice its length “I wasn’t sure that you meant it, or whether you were just pulling my leg”.
“Don’t give me all these excuses you know what I want, I want a double larder unit and most importantly I need a sink unit, in oak. Here’s a map, you go to Ilkley and find Mike Fingle’s factory he trades under the name MFI, you can’t miss it and tell him you want a larder cupboard and a sink unit”
Vic managed eventually to pull free and the boat is catapulted out to sea, “Bye luv” he shouts, “Don’t forget the sink and keep the raping to a minimum, just remember your prostate” she screams.
“Bloody sink “ he thinks to himself as the boat heads out to sea, “ She doesn’t know what she wants, reads all these fancy catalogues and just has to have the newest and best, bet she doesn’t even know how to use a sink”
Anyway, the saga continues more in a true Viking style, the North Sea as it has for generations does its very best to protect the undefended shores of friendly Yorkshire, the winds blows against these brave but trouble causing venturers, huge waves swamp the galley as the sea tries to deter these valiant warriors, but still they plow forward. The storm becomes so bad that the single mast and the King Size bed sheet sail is torn to shreds, Vic makes a mental note to call in at M&S in Bridlington and pillage a replacement, maybe a couple of pillaged pillow cases as well. The storm gets worse and at the first flash of lightening the crew show signs of restless concern, one of the younger lads known as Kenneth Skull Crusher (but Wimpy Ken to his mates), raises his hand and on gaining Vic’s attention suggests that they turn back, Vic standing proud at the prow of the boat gives this due consideration and then struggling down the boast’s length climbing across the still heaving bodies of the rowers, he reaches Ken and spends a few minutes trying to explain to the lad about Viking valour, honour and how it is very Anti Valhalla to give way to the forces of both men or nature, that their destiny is preordained by some greater force, failing to mention that Vic’s own destiny at the hands of Big Gertie was more preordained than most, especially if he went back without a sink unit, whatever one of those was. Ken listened and then tried to speak again, but Vic stopped him short, well stopped him in the sense that it is extremely difficult to talk with a big hairy arm down your throat pulling your heart up into your throat. The quality of rowing immediately improved and the longboat bounced ever onward over the very tops of the giant stormy waves. Vic made his way back to the head of the boat standing legs askew with his giant axe held high above his head in challenge of nature’s worst, big mistake here really, the metal edge of his axe acted as an invitation to old Thor who took advantage and threw Vic a few thousand volts, sparks flew and Vic’s horns straightened, his body shook violently and when it was passed he just stood there staring straight out to sea, well he would have done if he hadn’t been struck totally blind by the flash. Vic the Viking being the type of guy he was, insisted that the raiding party continued, he would never risk the taunts of being called a party pooper just because of minor thing like being struck blind.
Landing in Scarborough, blown a little bit off track but still not a bad guess without the aid of an AA map even, the crew shot off for a shot off and a bit of pillaging whilst Vic was guided up the South Shore beach by Eric Blood Dragon, (He was a veteran of theses coastal raids and it is thought by historians that this fiery Viking was responsible for the modern day Yorkshire exclamation of “Bloody Heck”……….that Viking’s back). Eric went forward into the town and commandeered a high speed chariot and local guide called Bart, they all set off then to Ilkely, not an easy task in them days. They arrived in Ilkely late that night, found the MFI and eventually Mike the proprietor hiding in one of his own waste disposal units, Eric collared him and presented him before Vic who looked him up and down in the classic style of a Viking Intimidater, to little avail of course being as he was totally blind. Vic explained his need for one of those new fangled sink unit things, but poor old terrified Mike tried to explain that the sinks had proved so popular he had sold every one some time ago, Vic wouldn’t have any of that and said quite simply that Mike should find one for him …….or else!! Mike gulped and realised that he was sinked, sorry sunk, he invited Vic to check his storeroom and see for himself that there were no sinks available, “I’m blind you stupid Yorkie how can I see what you have? Just get me a sink now or have your throat cut” Now Mike who was in fact an entrepreneur originally from the West of Ireland but lately avoiding the Black Country Excise Department and not a stupid Yorkshire man realising that the situation was a little dire to say the least, he decide to take a gamble. The chances were that Vic had absolutely no idea what a sink looked like and this along with the fact that he was totally blind caused cunning Mike to attempt a daring last ditch plan, he pointed to a builder’s hod standing in the corner and feigning surprise said ”Oh silly me there is one sink left I had forgotten that one, old Fanny Haddock was due to collect it tomorrow, you could take that one, it is of the very latest design, your good lady will love it.” Vic was a bit relieved although he obviously couldn’t show it, “Ok wrap it we will take it “ and in the same breath he told Eric to remove Mikes’s left eye, a classic act of Viking compassion and fair dealing, at least Mike could now keep an eye out for them coming back. So back out onto the bleakness of Ilkely Moors, Bert taking the reins for the return journey Vic in the back with Eric clutching the hod. (I bet you are wondering how the guide fits into “On Ilkely Moor Bart ‘At” ? Well in actual fact he doesn’t, on this occasion he wore a beret made of straw that he bought at Scarborough fair. Historical note; the Strawberets actually came from the Vale of Pickering).
Vic was pretty satisfied with the day trip to Scarborough and particularly the fact that he had obtained a sink for Big Gertie, happy in the belief that it would be enough for him to be allowed to sleep with the sheep, rather than have to share a bed with her, for another few months anyway or at least until the new Littlewood’s Autumn and Winter catalogue arrived. The crew had spent the day up to their normal tricks, too much free beer, a maiden here, create a widow there, fire a church a belly full of Yorkshire Puddings all the things that lads do on a day at the seaside. They all met up back at the boat early morning a bit worse for wear, as usual there a couple of the older lads with a Yorkshire wench draped about their shoulders each having forged Visas and au pair work permits, old Vic wouldn’t allow anything like that and Eric was prepared to tell him who the would be smugglers were, so to be honest there were one or two Sulking Scandinavian Scullers on the way home. Another couple of days bobbing about on the sea and they arrived home, Big Gertie stood on the foreshore, fairy liquid bottle in her hand in anticipation, as soon as the boat was beached she knew that something was wrong, Vic hadn’t leapt off the boat as he normally would and slipped Gertie a dummy, running past her to avoid having to kiss her, he merely stood until she spoke, “You’re a day late” she barked, “Where the bloody hell have yer been?” Vic explained about the terrible crossing, the storm and how he had been blinded by the lightening. “Storm” she screamed “Thought yer were all sailors? Blind? What the bloody hell yer done that for and where’s my sink unit?”
“Eric’s got it love, sorry we were delayed and I got blind but we did…..” Gertie never heard a word after the first statement, she had run forward and grabbed the parcel from Eric, ripping the paper off she paused a moment, screamed “What the bloody hell is this yer thick get” and began beating Vic about the helmet with the hod, being a big girl it only took half a dozen blows to smash his skull to pieces and leave him dead on the beach, now at this point Eric who really fancied Gertie saw his opportunity and went to comfort her, arm around her shoulder they walked up the beach, Gertie with tears of emotion cascading over her fat bloated cheeks, tears of real loss, when she suddenly realised that if she played her cards right then she might just persuade Eric to go back and get a proper sink unit, maybe even one of those Ikea models. Eric sidled up to her and in the best tradition of Viking loyalty to their leaders he attempted to tell her that Old Vic had done his best for her and that it wasn’t really her murdered husband’s fault, he did in fact at this point coin the phrase so well known throughout history and still as valid today as it was on that Viking Beach, “You know Gertie dear, he did love you and he did his best but I’m afraid fate was against him because as you should appreciate;
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
/
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AN HOD IS AS GOOD AS A SINK TO BLIND NORSE !!!!
I remember when this 'cheap kitchen mob' started up in Yorkshire a good few years back,
