Just when I was beginning to forget...... The Star cinema...Saturday afternoon...just after the follyinerupper.... DR.BLOODS COFFIN... Brian cringing under the seat...Brian screaming,crying just after the best bit, me dragging him out of the cinema....me kicking him all the way home.....
The rest, as they say is history, he never got over it....and neither did I....
That's our Brian but that's nothing I took him to see a tweety sylvester film once and he wouldn't come out from under the seat. He thought it was Hitchcocks' The Birds'.
In aer Brian's defense, Wingey Wuss though he may have been as a child, he did rescue me from the Fleet cinema when it caught fire while we were watching Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Something to do with an improperly flicked Afton if memory serves. All I remember is running like 90.
Brian set that cinema on fire himself and on purpose and arranged for you to be with him so he could rescue you. All to burnish his own tarnished image. Crafty is our Brianie. No flies on him.
When you come over I will formally thank you for your heroic and selfless (apart from the prospect of legging it home) efforts toward my well being. We will, install you as a charter member of the rspcc,(royal society of prevention of cruelty to the the Colin). From which, Jim is barred.
Also we would like to bestow upon you the title of Lord of the chicken & peanuts. From the giant of course. This to aid you in the presence of the Paul fella, famous for his scoffing abilities. Where you can say, with authority (paws off, that mine).
And finally the anointing of the CL, where the essence of Cuba Libre is applied internally from a wheelie bottle of Bacardi.
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15 comments:
Started what ?
His nervous-wreck-ness....and his crying because he was afraid of the dark...
Whose ? Who is he ? This is addressed to Ane.
There's a story behind this Jem. I will wait for Ann to comment first.
Come on Anne. We're dyin' to hear the next chapter.
Just when I was beginning to forget......
The Star cinema...Saturday afternoon...just after the follyinerupper....
DR.BLOODS COFFIN...
Brian cringing under the seat...Brian screaming,crying just after the best bit, me dragging him out of the cinema....me kicking him all the way home.....
The rest, as they say is history, he never got over it....and neither did I....
That's our Brian but that's nothing I took him to see a tweety sylvester film once and he wouldn't come out from under the seat. He thought it was Hitchcocks' The Birds'.
In aer Brian's defense, Wingey Wuss though he may have been as a child, he did rescue me from the Fleet cinema when it caught fire while we were watching Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Something to do with an improperly flicked Afton if memory serves. All I remember is running like 90.
Brian set that cinema on fire himself and on purpose and arranged for you to be with him so he could rescue you. All to burnish his own tarnished image. Crafty is our Brianie. No flies on him.
I remembered Colin had the bus fare home.
I was wondering.
Brian, was it the fleet, I think I might be wrong about the cinema. I think it might have been the capitol.
It was the Capitol,and I got you out from the fire just in time. I was later awarded the EMH medal in a private ceremony two weeks later.
By the way, the EMH medal stood for the 'Extinguished Medal Of Honour'
When you come over I will formally thank you for your heroic and selfless (apart from the prospect of legging it home) efforts toward my well being. We will, install you as a charter member of the rspcc,(royal society of prevention of cruelty to the the Colin). From which, Jim is barred.
Also we would like to bestow upon you the title of Lord of the chicken & peanuts. From the giant of course. This to aid you in the presence of the Paul fella, famous for his scoffing abilities. Where you can say, with authority (paws off, that mine).
And finally the anointing of the CL, where the essence of Cuba Libre is applied internally from a wheelie bottle of Bacardi.
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