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Ode to a retired beer tester

I imagine you must have the same problem now. Indeed you must be finding it tricky even to reply to threads with all those little popups hampering your every mouse click.
 
Strangely I haven't felt as enveloped in warm fuzzy lovelies as I did last time. Maybe, again, it's something to do with the change in management. Maybe it's related to the odd colour scheme. Still, at least you're here. What a delightful coincidence, you turning up on the same day as me.
 
I'm often surprised by life's little quirks. Of course I'm ever so pleased to see your beardy self. Why it's been yonks since last we met. What have you been up to all this time? Did you ever make it to Sweden?
 
Sweden... it has been a while.

Well I set off for Sweden, but never quite made it. It seems during all my years of geography, I've had east and west completely the wrong way round. An easy enough mistake to make, I'm sure you'll agree. So, I clamboured into my long boat, with the best of intentions, viking hat at a jaunty angle, jam butties packed for the journey, and started paddling away in the direction I thought was Sweden bound. After some time, I pulled over at an island in search of a quiet pint and a bed for the night - needed to recharge the batteries, none of us are getting any younger, I'm sure you'll agree. Imagine my suprise, when chatting to some of the local men-folk, that I was no where near Sweden, and that I had in fact discovered the island of Jumania! What a treat. I bedded down for the night (lovely B&B, highly recommended) and was all ready to start paddling back the other way in the morning (complete with a few bottles of the local beer) when two young chaps came and dragged me out of my boat. They were chattering amongst themselves and insisting that I come and see their high priest or something or other. I was quite keen to push on to be honest, after all I'd been paddling for some time in the wrong direction, but then I thought, hey you only live once. Well of course then I had a short internal debate and started wondering about whether heaven existed all over again, or whether we were reincarnated, and what I'd be coming back as if we were, and whether I'd get any sort of choice, maybe a catalogue? when a sharp tug on my now quite lenghty beard brought me back to the situation in hand. I decided to go with them afterall and meet this chap. And guess who it turned out to be? Only Jim who used to drive the number 2 up round Durham Road. He'd heard word of a stunningly attractive woman complete with beard and viking hat, at a jaunty angle, and put two and two together! He insisted that I stay with him a while, which was a most pleasant affair as the locals hailed him as some sort of God - apparently on his first night on the island they were all but ready to chuck him back in the sea but then he challenged some of them to a competition to see who could drink the most beer, and of course that was Jim's forte really wasn't it. That's why he ended up leaving the buses did you know, you can't have a bus driver tanked up on cheap plonk, he kept on forgetting himself and taking the old biddies on a detour round Park Lee estate. They've got a Starbucks there now. Anyroad, I ended up staying there for a good few years, but after a while a girl misses the little luxuries in life... a warm bath, solid houses, corn on the cob... So I returned. And then I popped in here, and you were here!
 
That's remarkable. I bought Norway. I'm not going to live there or anything, I just did it as a buy to let. I reckon I could get as much as £50 a week if I put up some new curtains.
 
With pickled fish and vodka. It's a local delicacy. In the sense that it's a delicacy made from locals.
 
I do wish you'd stop dropping your H's. It's very common.

I had to boil them for so long before they released their juices that in the end it wasn't worth it.
 
That's remarkable. I bought Norway. I'm not going to live there or anything, I just did it as a buy to let. I reckon I could get as much as £50 a week if I put up some new curtains.

I may be a humble new person, who has never seen your superb loveliness before, but I would be interested in this rental. Does it include council tax and all bills?
 
It includes utilities, but not the phone and there is no council tax because I've eaten the council. You can just dump all your rubbish out to sea if you like. And I don't supply wheelybins either.
 
Hmmm, I think I can probably get a better deal on Iceland. It's owner has offered me it for 45 a week, all bills included and as much fish as I want to throw at my neighbouring countries.
 
Well sure, if you don't mind living in a less exclusive post code. It's your choice. Besides, I've got other interested parties, including the Iron Sheik and I've always fancied having a wrestler as a tenant. He'll be handy for getting the lids off my jars of pickled herrings.

Plus I'd feel uneasy renting my country out to a complete stranger such as yourself who I've never laid eyes on before. Why, you could be anyone.
 
Well quite. It would be a great leap of faith on my part to rent a country from a total stranger who I have only just met tonight. Just out of curiosity, would the tenancy agreement allow me to bring my menagerie?
 
Well of course it would. I'd hardly expect you to have an operation to remove it just for the sake of a recently refurbished country with all mod cons and great sea views.
 
Sea views? You didn't mention them earlier. I shall be round later to check the place out, see if it's within commuting distance of work.
 
Welcome Badgerchops. I decided to write a short poem about you to welcome you to the forum:

Badgers are stripy
With long pointy nails
They like digging holes
And crunching on snails

And on summer's days
When it's all night and sunny
They lie on their back
And rub at their tummy.

Enjoy your stay.
 
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