Ye Olde Linoleum Shoppe

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

METAL DETECTING

Greetings good citizens of Ballychum! (Twinned with the quiet hamlet of Chumlinton-on-Pal.)
Today I deal with the pleasurable passez le temps of metal detecting. Surely there is no more satisfactory way of spending a Sunday afternoon than by mindlessly ravaging the countryside of it's plenteous gold bullion - bullion carelessly abandoned by sauced leprechauns in quaint cauldrons beneath blackthorn bushes throughout the rolling, heather scented fields. Breathe in that blue sky and let us begin!
THE RIGHT EQUIPMENT
Fig. 1a: METAL DETECTOR - Oh the fun you will have with your buzzing metal detector device! Indeed, the only other buzzing device you can have more fun with can't be found outside of an Ann Summer's catalog.
Fig. 1b: EARPHONES - Listening to heavy metal no doubt! (Oh ho ho ho! That is a rum rib-tickler! Torso heaves up and down with merriment, wipes eyes, wipes seat.)
Fig. 1c: NUDITY - Whilst detecting, nobody wishes to be approached by meddlesome bucolic types enquiring what the detectorist is up to. All clothing says something about the wearer, but nudity is the only outfit which candidly states -'AVOID WITH CAUTION.' However should some maggotie headed fellowe approach, it is time to get busy with . . .
Fig. 1d: THE BASEBALL BAT - It's the best way of answering all questions (eg.    *'What are you doing on my land?' *'What are you doing in my garden?' *'What are you doing in my closet?')
Fig. 1e: BROGUES - Nudity, yes, absolutely - but there's nothing wrong with a splash of brogue-shoed sartorial elegance is there?
WHERE TO DO IT
Fig. 2 : THE BEACH - You would not believe how much precious jewelry is lost on the beach by slipshod sunbathers, and your detector is a licence to begin churning up the gold. If however, your luck is not in, you could always use your baseball bat to convince holidaymaking children into handing over their ice-cream money.
Fig. 3: THE UNDERTAKERS - It beggars belief how many of the dearly departed are sent to the grave with their gold fillings left in! Climb in the back window of one of these establishments and wave your detector over the heads of the stiffs until you hit the jackpot. Then effect a quick removal of the precious metal with the baseball bat. And if there's no gold to be had, you can always make off with a few brass coffin handles as a consolation prize. In this game everyone's a winner! Huzzah!
Fig. 4: THE BANK - Should legends be true banks are packed to the rafters with gold. I suggest a direct approach, leave the detector at home, walk straight in, nude, avec baseball bat (or better yet, a shotgun if you can rustle one up,) and demand all the doubloons they have squirreled under the counter. In fact, if you are considering this option, pick up the old dog and bone, and me and me twin brother Ronnie will come round and help out. Alright me old china!


And as for archaeological sites? My advice is stay away from them, I've been digging on the shagging things for over twenty years and when it comes to valuables, I haven't found one red cent belonging to a certain Mister Jack Shit.


THANK YOU ONE AND ALL MY HAIRYBACKED NYMPHS AND CUSTARD LACED TURTLES. WILL TALK SOON.

3 comments:

  1. Dying to see a nighthawk please.
    All my love
    Nonny

    ReplyDelete
  2. A nighthawk?
    Is that the bird, the Hopper painting or a stealth bomber?

    ReplyDelete

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I am a descended from a long line of conga dancers. I occasionally wear shoes. I gave up going to the toilet twenty years ago - it's a filthy habit. I have a pet bunny called Mucky - he's a filthy rabbit.

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