Nah then folks, during the 60s..

[zakes]

Mexico 1 and 2.

 

Nah then Cuttsie, ref:- Posts 86 and 89.

 

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along

When Mark Hooper gets the ball

It is sure to be a goal

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along.

 

The only player I know of who sported a big black tash and played at Wednesday was Nigel Cassidy. He played at Hills’boro a year and a bit after my visit to Ford when Little Scunny Giant killed the Owls 2-1 in the F.A. cup on 24-1-1970 and Pancho Nigel scored the winner. The Wednesday players should have worn ponchos that day because they were well and truly tiddled upon. Angua TV covered that game stra(n)gely enough.

 

The only connection I know of atween Ford and Wednesday is David Ford. He also had a black tash but I can’t remember if he was at Wednesday or Spewcastle United at the time. I saw Ford playing at Hills’boro during the 60’s and noticed he was good at dribbling, crossing, passing and volleying, but not very good at driving!

 

Graham Pugh also had a pancho tash (not black).

 

The wild looking blondie kid who knocked around Gleadless with the sky blue eyes lived at Base Green and went in’t Old Harrow was Steve Faulkner from Sheffield United. He was transferred to York City as was ‘Beaky’ Bob Widdowson some years afore him.

 

Regarding the graffittic vandalism at St. Phillips club, it dunt surprise me at all the ruddy council took 30 years to remove it. They’ve always favoured Wednesday over United as has the Green ‘Un.

 

P.S. The worst game I saw at Hills’boro was Northern Ireland v Bulgaria in 1972 (?). Did Dave Clements play that neet? 0-0, raining cats and mice.

[zakes]

Snake Charmers.

 

“Dad, how many fishes can you get into a pair of fishnet tights?” Zakes asked. “I don’t know son, how many fish can you get in a pair of fishnet tights?” replied Dad Zakes. With a wide smile across his raspberry lips Zakes tendered the answer…

 

“2 ‘eels

2 soles

And a wet pla(i)ce, Ha! Ha! Ha!”

 

“Hook in ‘ell son, tha’ mornt let thi mother hear thee talking like that, or thar’ll be forrit.” Dad Zakes warned his lad. Mum Zakes was next door at number 27 visiting Mrs Jaffray who suffered badly with agoraphobia which Zakes found quite strange, because she had been born in a field when she was a baby. Due to his mum not being present, Zakes took the opportunity to ask his dad another quippy joke.

 

“Dad, how do you circumcise a whale?” Zakes asked.

“I don’t know son, how do you circumcise a whale?” replied Dad Zakes.

With a wide smile across his strawberry lips Zakes tendered the answer…

 

“Send down four skin divers, Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Cut it aht nah son, if thi’ mother comes back we’ll both get a nollicking and a thick ear apiece?” Dad Zakes warned his lad.

“Dad, what’s 12 foot long and floats in the sea?” Zakes asked.

“That’s it son, just geeowah nah, thi’ mother’ll kill both us!” Dad Zakes warned his lad.

Zakes giggled his delight knowing he had educated his yitten Dad who had fallen for the jokes hook, line and sinker. Dad Zakes then picked up his creel, rods and the rest of his fishing clobber and made to leave the house. He was going to a big pond in Carperby in the north with his chubby pal Rod Rodgers, who was waiting outside in his muddy Morris Minor.

 

Having waved his dad off, the thirteen years old Zakes floated into the living room and plonked his behind onto the family’s cherry blue coloured seven seater settee. Having spent ten minutes brooding about the injustices of life, it occurred to him that if things don’t change, then they’ll probably stay as they are. Zakes then started to consider what he would like to be when he grew up. He would have liked to have become a poet like Browning, Keats and William Wordsworth, but every time he had tried to formulate a verse or two nothing ever seemed to rhyme. Zakes then decided he would like to become a dramatist or novelist. He felt quite certain he would at best only become a very poor man’s Samuel Beckett although at times he was a genial genius, but in a naïve way. Zakes was also very proud of his Sheffield talk, and it would be foolishly dangerous for anyone to call him an idiot or a bore.

 

As it was the third Saturday in the month, Zakes was due for his periodic reduction in overheads or in layman’s lingo, he was due to have his ears lowered. After splashing loads of his dad’s Hai Karate aftershave around his kisser and remembering to be careful how you use it, he donned his green twill corduroyed jacket and his yellow and black square patterned hipsters, then set off to the barbers shop at Frecheville. Whilst walking alongst Birley Moor Road Zakes passed a hardy character, then a wise man and fifty seven paces later he also passed a romantic Romany lady. Approaching Frechy shopping centre Zakes was undecided which hairstyle he would like to have. Should he ask for square neck or Tony Curtis hairdo, or maybe a crew cut. Zakes even grappled with the idea of requesting a Mohican cut like that disabled Canadian wrestler Billy Tow Rivets had. Some months ago Zakes and his dad had gone dahn souff by train to Fairfield Hall in Croydon to watch Mr Two Rivets fight against an ugly opponent who was always shooting his mouth off, called Steve Lowgun. Arriving at the barbers’s shop which was a couple of doors from the butchers where the turkeys were still on display from Christmas, Zakes went in. The barber greeted Zakes by asking him if he had come for the chop. Zakes decided to play safe by asking for a short back and sides chop, instead of the Mohican chop because his mum would have cut him to pieces.

 

After paying with money Zakes left, and thought he had been overcharged in this clip joint of a place. Zakes then repassed the butcher’s and was tempted to goin to purchase two cheap chops of the lamb variety from his cousin Daphne who worked there behind the counter, but chose to save his money instead for healthier options, like fags and spice.

Zakes was now approaching Newstead Estate having first called in at Rippon’s papershop. He had bought himself a Mint Cracknell chocolate bar, five Woodbines plain and a box of matches with blue heads instead of the usual red, and they were made in Sweden. Zakes was glad he was on his own today, because that way he wouldn’t have to crash the fags.

The only person Zakes came across before arriving home was a bloke named Perry, who always wore winkle pickers only on Saturday twice a week. Perry had a twenty four hour permanent smile, which meant he was a barmpot. He also had a peculiar quirk with his left eye which made people in the area think him a right ******. Perry had moved to Newstead just over one year ago from a one horse village called Wincobank.

 

Having gotten home, Zakes went into the lounge and fed a shilling into the slot of the box attached to the back of the Faranti television, then switched on. The programme showing was World of Sport that was introduced by Eamonn Andrews, and as it was just after four o’clock wrestling was on. The commentator was called Kent Walton who lived in the garden of England. Kent, it was rumoured was famous for the same thing actor Errol Flynn was famous for. They were both constricted ophidian charmers who wore baggy trousers.

 

After wrestling had finished Zakes went into the kitchen and saw his mum was ironing clothes, and on the board was her pair of pink fishnet tights. Zakes thought of the jokes from earlier in the day and began to laugh uncontrollably. This put his mum who didn’t understand why he was laughing on the warpath, then she shouted, “Get to your bedroom now you little sod, go on chop chop!!!”

[memari laine]

Was just about at the withdrawall symptoms stage, when, lo and behold, an installment from the veritable Zakes. Have missed your musings. Are you still in Beijing, or back on sacred ground? Things have been very quiet on the forum lately, so maybe now it will have a bit more life again.

 

regards to all Forumers

 

memari laine

[zakes]

Scran 1966.

 

Sitting to attention at the left side of the dining table, Zakes was waiting for his mum to finish preparing his breakfast for him. Zakes didn’t like his mum very much because he was afeared of her. She always seemed to be barking orders at him and she also wasn’t slow in handing out slaps around his luggies, and that’s why he detested cauliflower. He often wished he could turn the clock back twelve years to the time he was born, then he could choose a different mother in the maternity ward, one that was kind, understanding, often smiled, and who would be very proud to have a son as nice as himself.

 

Mum Zakes had dark black hair that was severely tied which accentuated the sharp lines of her cheek bones, and her complexion was a lighter shade of sallowness. Her thin lipped pob gob was most uninviting and her hastily applied morning glory make-up was indistinct. Her dark brown eyes were nothing akin to big velvety pansies. She was most definitely a female iceberg aged thirty seven winters. Zakes found it difficult to imagine his dad could have been so mental to have got it together with his harridan of a woman. The mathematics say that they must have had a cuppa tea and a quick roll on at least four occasions because Zakes had two brothers and also a sister to boot. Zakes wasn’t aware of his dad being in possession of a white stick and therefore put it down to the fact his dad was originally from the Hillsborough area where there was lots of lead, cadmium, magnesium, mercury, zinc and chrome in the drinking water which affects the sight and mind, not forgetting the broken teeth.

 

Tapping fingers on the table betrayed Zakes’ mood when suddenly his morning meal arrived. It hadn’t taken long for his meal to be prepared because his mum had been cooking by gas. Mum Zakes had slung a large plate onto the table in front of Zakes, from a height of eight inches. Zakes couldn’t believe his eyes, because his scran upon the plate consisted of two assuaged sage sausages, two impetuousers of bacon, one squeshed military tomato fresh from the glasshouse in the neighbour’s back garden, a medium sized pile of mushy mushrooms, one poached egg cooked a la omelette style sunny side up, and three thin slices of pumpernickel bread each with a thin film of pumpkin seed margarine spread, and finally a piping hot beaker full of sweetened Lyon’s tea to wesh it all down with. Zakes was so pleased with the heavenly sight before him he just had to speak his thanks to his mum.

“O thankyou mum, you are the bestest mother in all the world, and I wouldn’t trade you for another.” Said the two faced Zakes, who had a big smile across his four cheeks. Zakes’ poggy mother flushed then gently pressed her thin lips together, then gave a smile but turned away from her son because she found it to be a sign of weakness to show warmth. Zakes himself was very surprised to see his virago of a mother emit a smile because she was usually a first to accuse, last to praise type. Zakes was also pleased because he had spent twenty minutes in the kitchen with his mum without getting a thick ear.

 

Mum Zakes exited the kitchen to get dolled up because she was going to visit a distant relative today who lived far away, in a place called London. She had planned to stay there for the weekend and already had her things packed in a case that stood next to the fridge. Whilst his mum was upstairs dressing herself, Zakes decided to have a peek inside the vanity case. Zakes discovered two double breasted white blouses, a pair of black sling back flat heeled shoes stiletto style, an ankle length pleated skirt in beer bottle brown and three pairs of pink silky open crotch knickers. Zakes had never seen open crotch undies before and couldn’t understand the reason for the crotchlessness. After a few moments of thought it occurred to him the holes were there in case his mother needed to have an emergency tiddle whilst on her travels.

 

Re-entering the kitchen, Mum Zakes had a sour look upon her sour face and told her son she had a dicky tummy which was making her feel queasy. She went on to say she thought it was the thought of the lengthy train journey to London that was making her feel nervous. Zakes at last saw his chance to make a monkey out of his mother by suggesting to her that her tummy troubles perhaps came from her having to travel St. Pancreas Station. Wallop!!

[zakes]

French Collection Part 1 of 2.

 

At home sitting comfortably, Dad Zakes was telling his son that Grandfatha Zakes had been involved in Operation Dynamo in Dunkirk in 1940 durrint war. Apparently Grandfatha Zakes’ part was feighting alongside his British buddies and their allies, the Belgians and the French against the squareheads of Germany. During this time Grandfatha Zakes developed a dependency addiction which involved the dunk(irk)ing of croissants into cold mocha coffee of the undecaffeinated kind. The exact spot where the dunking took place was next to the dunnite explosives store, that was situated next to the done in dunnikins, where the scared military men would crouch and cower because they were afraid to faes the enemy. Before the war had started this particular area was a natural nature reserve where peaceful Dunlins, Dunnocks, Dunflies and Dung beetles lived.

 

Due to the uncontrollable intake of croissants adding nine stones to his weight of eighteen stones, it came as no surprise that three and a half years later Grandfatha Zakes was posted to the Ardennes in Belgium, to fight in the Battle of the Bulge. The hard fought battle resulted in a decisive allied victory with the Bosch receiving a reight drilling. Grandfatha Zakes also won a personal victory because due to the fear factor and the short supplies he had managed to shed so many stones in weight that he could have easily passed for ‘General Bernard Monty’s double, but unfortunately Operation Overlord in the Normandy had already happened six months prior. Grandfatha Zakes who had a chest infection had been so relieved to have escaped capture in the Ardennes, because he wouldn’t have welcomed the idea of being carted off to that chilly Coldtits castle near to Leipzig on the eastern side of Germoney.

 

Zakes aged 13 had enjoyed listening to his dad telling and relating stories of his greedy and gluttonous Grandfatha in action and wanted to know more about France, but not Belgium because it was only weeny. He already knew a little about France but norralot. Zakes zipped up to his bedroom to fetch his mappy atlas and was back upon the settee faster than the speed of dark.

Finding the page which was number fifty eight, Zakes looked at the size and shape of France and was immediately impressed. He saw the twenty two metropolitan regions and the names of their capitals, and was surprised with what he was reading. In the north east there was a city called Nancy, and Zakes knew a girl called Nancy. Nancy always hung about the phone box near to the Spa Club at Frecheville, and she always drank Vimto through a straw from a Vimto bottle. Zakes had once asked the naughty and nubile Nancy if he could take a gander up her skirt and she had complied by promptly lifting her hem chin high giving Zakes a reight Eiffel of her French camiknicks. On closer inspection Zakes noted her Nice pastel pink undies were made of racy Rayon. After lowering her skirt back to it’s original position, Nancy beamed a wide smile then ripped her tatty looking t-shirt skywards to reveal the most wonderful sweet looking blub blubs Zakes had ever seen in all his years of life. It occurred to Zakes that Nancy was perhaps feeling guilty of something, because by lifting up her top it looked like a form of confession, because it seemed she was trying to make a clean Brest of things. Nancy had a big fat elder sister called Lorraine who was bowl egged, and a younger boring brother who was most effeminate, and the boy was unhappy because his lovely sister had been christened with the name he had so wanted to have.

 

To the right of Lorraine was the area called Alsace also known as Alsatia. Zakes toyed with the idea of ordering through second class post a dog, but it was only a passing fancy because it ocCURred to him there weren’t any German Shepherds there anymore because the area was now back in French farmers hands.

Looking higher up on the page Zakes saw the capital of the most northerly region Nord-pas de-Calais was Lille. Zakes had a auntie who lived in Hood Green and her name was Lil. Auntie Lil every Sunday without fail went to St. Etienne’s Baptist chapel in Chapeltown to attend evensong then she always raided the collect-ion box afterwards.

Scanning south westerly on the atlas, Zakes swept past Upper Normandy in his wisdom to arrive at Lower Normandy whose capital city was called Caen. Zakes sprung from the grell green family settee, and went to the kitchen. Opening the left hand cupboard Zakes gave a knowing look and a smile when he saw it was still there……that Caen of worms. Having then opened the right hand cupboard he noted the six Cannes of haricot beans were still there un-touche-d.

 

Backing his backside back onto the settee, Zakes continued his map searching in a south easterly direction to discover the county of Centre where the main city was named Orleans. Zakes wondered if the people who dined out in this city would eat Nice salty potatoes, succulent artichokes, sweet peas and a large steak cooked middle seldom, and it wouldn’t matter if the steak was fatty Orlean-s…yummy. Also in this state was the city of Tours where visitors could do a spot of sightseeing if they so chose.

 

South west of this region came Poitou-Charentes and the capital being Poitiers. Well, Zakes was flummoxed by this name. For what reason would the French name one of their city’s after a famous American actor from the pictures. Sidney must have been as pleased as a Roman poet whilst he was keeping his virtuous vigil in the heat of the night.

Zakes’ eyes roved southwards to reach the region of Aquitane and the chief city was called Bordeaux. Zakes looked up from his large book to glance out of the French doors to see the shed in the back garden where his second hand dart Bordeaux was hanging inside, and his pet name for it was Nancy, but that was a prickly subject.

[dafodil]

French Collection Part 1 of 2.

 

At home sitting comfortably, Dad Zakes was telling his son that Grandfatha Zakes had been involved in Operation Dynamo in Dunkirk in 1940 durrint war. Apparently Grandfatha Zakes’ part was feighting alongside his British buddies and their allies, the Belgians and the French against the squareheads of Germany. During this time Grandfatha Zakes developed a dependency addiction which involved the dunk(irk)ing of croissants into cold mocha coffee of the undecaffeinated kind. The exact spot where the dunking took place was next to the dunnite explosives store, that was situated next to the done in dunnikins, where the scared military men would crouch and cower because they were afraid to faes the enemy. Before the war had started this particular area was a natural nature reserve where peaceful Dunlins, Dunnocks, Dunflies and Dung beetles lived.

 

Due to the uncontrollable intake of croissants adding nine stones to his weight of eighteen stones, it came as no surprise that three and a half years later Grandfatha Zakes was posted to the Ardennes in Belgium, to fight in the Battle of the Bulge. The hard fought battle resulted in a decisive allied victory with the Bosch receiving a reight drilling. Grandfatha Zakes also won a personal victory because due to the fear factor and the short supplies he had managed to shed so many stones in weight that he could have easily passed for ‘General Bernard Monty’s double, but unfortunately Operation Overlord in the Normandy had already happened six months prior. Grandfatha Zakes who had a chest infection had been so relieved to have escaped capture in the Ardennes, because he wouldn’t have welcomed the idea of being carted off to that chilly Coldtits castle near to Leipzig on the eastern side of Germoney.

 

Zakes aged 13 had enjoyed listening to his dad telling and relating stories of his greedy and gluttonous Grandfatha in action and wanted to know more about France, but not Belgium because it was only weeny. He already knew a little about France but norralot. Zakes zipped up to his bedroom to fetch his mappy atlas and was back upon the settee faster than the speed of dark.

Finding the page which was number fifty eight, Zakes looked at the size and shape of France and was immediately impressed. He saw the twenty two metropolitan regions and the names of their capitals, and was surprised with what he was reading. In the north east there was a city called Nancy, and Zakes knew a girl called Nancy. Nancy always hung about the phone box near to the Spa Club at Frecheville, and she always drank Vimto through a straw from a Vimto bottle. Zakes had once asked the naughty and nubile Nancy if he could take a gander up her skirt and she had complied by promptly lifting her hem chin high giving Zakes a reight Eiffel of her French camiknicks. On closer inspection Zakes noted her Nice pastel pink undies were made of racy Rayon. After lowering her skirt back to it’s original position, Nancy beamed a wide smile then ripped her tatty looking t-shirt skywards to reveal the most wonderful sweet looking blub blubs Zakes had ever seen in all his years of life. It occurred to Zakes that Nancy was perhaps feeling guilty of something, because by lifting up her top it looked like a form of confession, because it seemed she was trying to make a clean Brest of things. Nancy had a big fat elder sister called Lorraine who was bowl egged, and a younger boring brother who was most effeminate, and the boy was unhappy because his lovely sister had been christened with the name he had so wanted to have.

 

To the right of Lorraine was the area called Alsace also known as Alsatia. Zakes toyed with the idea of ordering through second class post a dog, but it was only a passing fancy because it ocCURred to him there weren’t any German Shepherds there anymore because the area was now back in French farmers hands.

Looking higher up on the page Zakes saw the capital of the most northerly region Nord-pas de-Calais was Lille. Zakes had a auntie who lived in Hood Green and her name was Lil. Auntie Lil every Sunday without fail went to St. Etienne’s Baptist chapel in Chapeltown to attend evensong then she always raided the collect-ion box afterwards.

Scanning south westerly on the atlas, Zakes swept past Upper Normandy in his wisdom to arrive at Lower Normandy whose capital city was called Caen. Zakes sprung from the grell green family settee, and went to the kitchen. Opening the left hand cupboard Zakes gave a knowing look and a smile when he saw it was still there……that Caen of worms. Having then opened the right hand cupboard he noted the six Cannes of haricot beans were still there un-touche-d.

 

Backing his backside back onto the settee, Zakes continued his map searching in a south easterly direction to discover the county of Centre where the main city was named Orleans. Zakes wondered if the people who dined out in this city would eat Nice salty potatoes, succulent artichokes, sweet peas and a large steak cooked middle seldom, and it wouldn’t matter if the steak was fatty Orlean-s…yummy. Also in this state was the city of Tours where visitors could do a spot of sightseeing if they so chose.

 

South west of this region came Poitou-Charentes and the capital being Poitiers. Well, Zakes was flummoxed by this name. For what reason would the French name one of their city’s after a famous American actor from the pictures. Sidney must have been as pleased as a Roman poet whilst he was keeping his virtuous vigil in the heat of the night.

Zakes’ eyes roved southwards to reach the region of Aquitane and the chief city was called Bordeaux. Zakes looked up from his large book to glance out of the French doors to see the shed in the back garden where his second hand dart Bordeaux was hanging inside, and his pet name for it was Nancy, but that was a prickly subject.

Frank Sinatras first wife was called Nancy so was his daughter such a nice name dont you think!

[Kelvinlad]

My mother's name was Annie but all the family knew her as Nance.

[Jim Hardie]

Mexico 1 and 2.

 

Nah then Cuttsie, ref:- Posts 86 and 89.

 

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along

When Mark Hooper gets the ball

It is sure to be a goal

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along.

 

The only player I know of who sported a big black tash and played at Wednesday was Nigel Cassidy. He played at Hills’boro a year and a bit after my visit to Ford when Little Scunny Giant killed the Owls 2-1 in the F.A. cup on 24-1-1970 and Pancho Nigel scored the winner. The Wednesday players should have worn ponchos that day because they were well and truly tiddled upon. Angua TV covered that game stra(n)gely enough.

 

The only connection I know of atween Ford and Wednesday is David Ford. He also had a black tash but I can’t remember if he was at Wednesday or Spewcastle United at the time. I saw Ford playing at Hills’boro during the 60’s and noticed he was good at dribbling, crossing, passing and volleying, but not very good at driving!

 

Graham Pugh also had a pancho tash (not black).

 

The wild looking blondie kid who knocked around Gleadless with the sky blue eyes lived at Base Green and went in’t Old Harrow was Steve Faulkner from Sheffield United. He was transferred to York City as was ‘Beaky’ Bob Widdowson some years afore him.

 

Regarding the graffittic vandalism at St. Phillips club, it dunt surprise me at all the ruddy council took 30 years to remove it. They’ve always favoured Wednesday over United as has the Green ‘Un.

 

P.S. The worst game I saw at Hills’boro was Northern Ireland v Bulgaria in 1972 (?). Did Dave Clements play that neet? 0-0, raining cats and mice.

 

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along,

Put the ball in the net where it belongs,

United's over there being kicked up in the air,

Roll along Sheffield Wednesday roll along.

 

To the tune of Roll Along Covered Wagon, or as Cuttsie says Roll Along Covered Wagon to the tune of Roll Along Sheffield Wednesday.

[diggerdigger]

Nah then folks, during the 60s on the Vic Hallam Pigeon hut estate i lived at Newstead Rise and on sundays there was a bloke pushing a weird looking cart and he was vending Walls ice cream. The cart was smallish which leads to 2 quetions, 1. Does anyone remember him? 2. Where did he go to get his re-stocks to continue his round(s)? We unkindly named him Polly or Parrot, bluddy kids eh!

 

Remember well the mobile Walls ice cream cart salesman (he pushed a glorified road sweepers cart) in his yellow coat with blue cuffs/collars and think he had a deformed arm bless him.Once remember a refrigerated Thames van pull up outside Frecheville Community Centre and top him up !

[zakes]

French Collection Part 2 of 2.

 

Perusing his atlas further, Zakes came across more visitable towns and cities like:-

 

Mulhouse – Which was no more than a glorified stable where donkeys, asses and such were kept.

 

Reims – Which was allegedly France’s main paper industry city where the machines could whip out lots of sheets of paper.

 

Corsica – Which was allegedly France’s main corset making area where incarcerated coarse corsairs were frogmarched to a factory where they stitched together these figure hugging ladies items of course. Corsica had legions of foreign conscripts who were the mainstay of the local economy. Zakes wasn’t a refined dandy, and for that reason he wouldn’t want to be a geste on this island.

 

Angers – In Pays de la Loire, Zakes would be scared to go there because he could imagine big, hairy, sweaty French adults stinking of cognac and garlic snarling at each other.

 

Zakes would one day like to see the capital of all France, but because he was unsteady on his feet he would be afeared of slipping into the river and breaking a leg. It would be an inseine thing to do, and his leg would most likely end up being wrapped in plaster of Paris.

 

Valence – A waste of time because he already had one spread over his bed.

 

Orange – Why bother? Zakes could get one of these any day at Sheffield’s Castle Market. Where Zakes lived at Newstead Rise, there was a lad living nearby called one eyed Pete. Pete with the one eye once told Zakes that the Sheffield Corporation would in many years to come, build a new indoor market on The Moor. The old Castle Market would then be demolized ‘til it was no moor. Zakes would want in those many many years to come, to continue buying his Lyon-s tea from the Castle Market, and knocking it down would not be a good thing and he was Avignon of it. LEAVE IT ALONE, IT’S OURS would be printed on his placard when the time arrived. Zakes would then be well acquainted on the subject because he would know his onions. As an afterthought, Zakes thought if one eyed Pete could cadge a patch for the hole where his missing eye was supposed to be, he would stand a good chance of getting a job in Corsica because he wouldn’t look out of place with those prating pirate prats, who earn a sou or two every time they sew.

 

Lorient – Why go all the way to France when Zakes could go to East London to watch them play and drop two points every second week.

 

Lens – Why go all the way to France when Zakes could go to Jamieson’s Apotheke at Birley Moor Road who sold childrens cameras upstairs, along with Potty Putty and Airfix models.

 

Dampierre – Why bother? Mum Zakes always managed to put a Dampierre on anything Zakes did or said.

 

Dieppe – Why go all the way to France when Zakes was given a fried breakfast by his mum every morning, and he always Diepped his bread in his tomato Dieppe.

 

Toulouse – Zakes never thought of it, he was a winning winner.

 

Dijon – Was a wanderer and a teenager in love with runaround Sue. Along with his brothers Abraham, Martin and John, Dijon used to live in Belmont where they drank Burgundy white wine. Why go all the way to France to watch them when they often plat at some crabby club in the city of Sheffield on an unregular basis.

 

Zakes’ eldest brother had a decent sized vinyl collection, and in his collection he had some records of French artistes, for exampled instance:-

 

Francois Hardy – She sang songs of love with robust meaning. She had a distant relative who lived in Sheffield called Jim.

 

Mirelle Mathieu – She was another fine singer of songs. It was rumoured she was having it off with Victor, a relative living in U.S.A. Victor was a two bit actor, but nobody complained because he and Mirelle were both mature persons.

 

Edith – She was another songstress but she unfortunately had legs as thin as a sparrow’s. Her surname eludes Zakes at the moment, but it was reported Edith liked to eat chips and scampi after singing her songs, and she didn’t regret it.

 

Jane – Zakes can’t remember her surname either but he knew she was famous for burking about. She also had a relative in England who liked to wear serge materialed clothing. It was rumoured her relative lived in Gainsborough.

 

Zakes couldn’t understand these lard hopping French people, and it seemed to him that France was still in a spin following their revolution of 1789. Why can’t these people just say thank you or dankeschoen or takk? Why do they always say merci all the ruddy time? Could it be guilt for a past crime (anag)? Work it out yourselves, chuffin’ ‘ell, strewth!!

 

What famous people did France have then, mused Zakes.

 

Nappy Leon – A so called powerful Emperor with a baby name and stumpy legs. He was firstly driven out by the Russians and then given the elbow to Elba by a misguided bird called ‘not tonight’ Josephine.

 

Louis Pasteur – Who needs him when there are enough pasteur’s at Express Dairy in Broadfield Road?

 

Commissaire Maygrey – He was supposed to be good but May isn’t grey, it’s a sunny time of year. Rupert Davies? Zakes couldn’t bear the man. At least the English had Gideon who always had his way. There was also Inspector Lockhart who allegedly had no hiding place.

 

Dad Zakes was busy in the kitchen trying to repair Degas dial on the stove with a monkey wrench, when Mum Zakes arrived home from a short shopping trip. Seeing his wife holding heavy shopping bags full of shopping, Dad Zakes stepped forth to help her, but firstly put his Toulon the table.

 

Zakes entered the kitchen in the hope his mum had bought him a pack of his favourite Bourbon broken biscuits of which he was very fond-ant. He saw his mum give her husband a smile as she slipped him a pack of six rubbery condoms. This got Zakes to wondering why the English call these thin balloons French Letters, and the French in turn call them Londoners. Could it be possible each side was preparing to blame the other in case of any unwanted pregnancies?

Zakes then heard his abrupt Marseille “I’ve not bought or brought you any of those chocolate biscuits because you’re fat enough.” On hearing this, Zakes was saddened and disappointed, and wondered how his very own mum could have De Gaulle to talk to her very own son like that.

 

In the hallway, Zakes grabbed his purple coloured Algerian alpaca skin jacket, then left the house. He was determined to have a long brisk walk to burn off his anger toward his mum. Zakes decided he wouldn’t be going near to any of the ponds at Birley or Frecheville, because at this time of year they would both be snided with FROGS!

 

P.S. “Waiter, do you have frogs legs?”

“No sir, it’s the way I walk.”