Wednesday, December 22, 2004


How to Give Bad Advice

There I was looking after my own small patch of God’s land and Lord of all I surveyed. I had a substantial Wood right in the middle of the patch, and as often happens; in the middle of the wood was a large pit. The sort of thing that in my day we used to cycle up and down. Times change and the little cherubs had trials motorcycles with exhausts sounding like a large bottle of wasps! This wood was also the recreation area for dog walkers, recreational walkers, lovers and other outdoor pursuits. In the course of my patrols I used to love walking through the woods until the scourge of the gits on motorcycles coming whizzing through, causing alarm and correspondence. One little old man with a walking stick grasped me with a grip like the ancient mariner and told me tales of woe about being forced into bushes and stinging nettles by these unthinking little toe-rags.
“Well”, says I. “What I would do when I heard one coming, would be to hide behind a tree and when they came past, I would stick my walking stick through the front wheel of the bike. That would give them a shock!!”
Having given the old chap some food for thought I resumed my steady 2mph peregrinations through God’s wonderful creation. Later that week I’m in the High Street, when a call comes through on the bat phone
“To the woods, it cries!” “No, No, I’ll tell the vicar” – Sorry wrong joke!
“To the woods” it cries, “There’s been an accident, Ambulance attending” So girding up of the loins, and full ramming speed on the trusty velocipede, I make my way to the woods. “Good oh”, thinks me medics have got here first as I can see the blue lights of the ambulance twinkling. “What’s the score?” – says I the paramedic is working on what looks like one of my little biker chums
“Broken arm. Several ribs and lacerations to both legs, and it looks like his bike is a write off”. “What the hell did you hit?” I ask the poor little wounded soldier, as he lays there groaning. “I didn’t hit nothing”, he replies with the council house grammar of his forbears. “Some old geezer was hiding behind a tree and as I rode past he stuck a stick in me front wheel, and I went right over the top!!”
Exit stage left pursued by a bear !!

Hey, Paul, thanks for visiting my site, and for the forgiveness. This is a hilarious story! I sometimes catch "Last of the Summer Wine" on our local educational TV channel, and I imagine one of those fellows as the "old geezer" you describe.
Yep - little old man - sometimes walked with a little fat jack russell dog - pork pie hat and gannex mac !
Luckily he kept stum about me telling him - worked like a charm though !
Excellent! Pro-active policing at its best. Beats giving the little tinkers a clip round the ear any day. Please re-locate to my neck of the woods.
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