“I say Carruthers do you know what?”


“Well old chap there I was in my local last evening when, quite out of the blue a petit young lady wearing a tight fitting and very short dress that revealed a lot of that cleavage thing these gals have I might add approached me, draped her arms over my shoulders and whispered in my ear, ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’ Well I was taken aback somewhat I can tell you.”

“My pink pyjamas – the lengths these people from the financial sector will go to sell a loan. Bleddy check of it. Can’t say I’m shocked mind.”

“That’s what I thought. These days you can’t even enjoy a snifter in the pub without one of them on your back. Sell, sell, sell that’s all they care about. I mean I told her good and proper. I said, ‘Do I look like a man who borrows money? Young lady I have more readies at my disposal than you can shake a stick at you know.’ Odd thing was she didn’t try to close the sale – she just shook her head and walked orf.”

“Don’t suppose you got her name did you? You could report her to the Financial Ombudsman you know.”

“Um……not a bad idea. Even though I gave her short shrift I recall she said her name was Anita Stroker I think. Any ways how are things with you these days?”

“Oh me, same-o same-o. I mean with Deirdre having left me the housekeeper Svetlana keeps popping into me bleddy bedroom of an evening wearing the skimpiest of nighties – sometimes clutching a bottle of champagne and what looks to be a bemusing pair of fur lined handcuffs even – asking me if I’d like her to keep me warm at night. The times I have told that girl that I have central heating radiators I can turn on if I ever feel chilly and regardless I always wear a thermal nightshirt.”

“Still it’s nice the girl is so concerned about your care I suppose.”

“True yet I could do without it. Whatever, the mood has taken me to pop orf to the club as I fancy getting leathered to the jimmies. Care to join me?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice old chum.” 



  1. I’m no longer following this blog as I’m fairly convinced this spoof is directly aimed at ridiculing my hair 😦

  2. Do you think he is playing hard to get? I am still trying to figure this guy out.

    As a footnote my friend…

    I would write “petite” and not “petit” since the lady in question is a female unless he was a transvestite.

      1. Just to make this more realistic… Your readers might think you are making up all these stories.
        I know you are not.
        I can easily sort the facts from fiction.

        As a footnote…

        I have created a new blog about another squadron.
        Could not help myself. I know you can relate to this addiction.
        Have a nice day and keep it up. (no pun intended here)

  3. Another footnote…

    Stunning picture as an eye opener to read this post.
    This is what caught my attention.

      1. I don’t drink that much Sir…

        After a few drops, I want to kiss eveyone.
        This is what I tell people to warn them.

        Never had anyone add more wine in my glass.

        As a footnote

        Your picture with a glass in front of you and your smile tells a lot about you Sir.

        As a footnote

        I became a grandfather for the third time yesterday. Let’s just say that I am blessed.

      2. Well done on the 3rd grandchild – I have 4 presently with a 5th due on Christmas Day! Oddly the picture on my blog is me entirely sober. My eldest son was getting married in the middle of nowhere and I was driving that day and had to drink only water! It is strange how quickly you notice how after just a few glasses of wine others appear drunk when you are sober!

    1. The archetypal posh Englishmen who never get what is staring them in the face. I’ve been running with this pair (Carruthers & Chum that is) for a good while now. In many respects there is a bit of me in them – basically I’m an idiot although my wife has called me worse as the occasion arises!

    1. Ah the lovely Svetlana – actually her namesake and my would be muse (were I 100 years younger) serves up coffee in a cafe we use most days. However, her service doesn’t extend to that offered up to Carruthers though.

    1. Thank you – I would, and I think always will – say the same about your poetry. The only reason I haven’t put out a book review on Amazon yet is that my drafts thus far do not do your work justice. I will get there though – so long as Shirley doesn’t keep rejecting what I write.

  4. Mike, this one really had me in stitches. So good. I mean, obviously it was the cleavage that got me here initially. But the the conversation between these two chaps was bloody brilliant. Nicely done, sir.

  5. Ah, my man Carruthers is back! It amazes me with his Moe coiffure how he always has all the ladies throwing themselves at his feet. I hope Deirdre doesn’t read your post. She’s likely to go home and gouge Svetlana’s eyes out! Excellent post, my friend! 😀

  6. Do you think Carruthers could be asexual?
    Or is he the incarnation of oblivion? Great stuff! Anita Stroker (I had to say that one out loud before I got it…guess Carruthers should’ve done the same, maybe?;)

    1. It is difficult to tell with Carruthers. Asexual is a concept I cannot get my head around although I envy in many ways those that are asexual as they must be self-sufficient and not reliant upon any thing or any one yet on the other hand where do they find passion – any form of passion. I reckon he probably is. Certainly some of is stupidity is based on me yet behind the mask of the twat? – I’m guessing you are correct.

      1. I’m not sure if I’d enjoy being asexual…then again, being asexual kinda means you don’t miss sex when it’s absent. Still, they say it’s better to feel the thorn than to never see the rose…

      2. I agree…on the other hand one of my favorite poems of all time (and I know next to nothing of poetry, so it’s also one of the few I know at all) is by W.B. Yeats:

        “Never give all the heart, for love
        Will hardly seem worth thinking of
        To passionate women if it seem
        Certain, and they never dream
        That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
        For everything that’s lovely is
        But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
        O never give the heart outright,
        For they, for all smooth lips can say,
        Have given their hearts up to the play.
        And who could play it well enough
        If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
        He that made this knows all the cost,
        For he gave all his heart and lost”

      3. Yeats can write of love so very well – I enjoy writing to a muse ‘real’ or ‘imagined’ yet when one reads the proper poets one wonders why one bothers. Your example here is a classic.

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