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STORIES BY HATTYMENDER  

STORIES BY HELEN WORRALL

 

STORIES  AND EBAY SALES

1     AN OLD LAND ROVER
2     EBAY
3     SELLING AN OLD LAND ROVER  
4     SELLING WHEELS AND TYRES
5     A NEW JOB AT THE FUNERAL PARLOUR
6     SELLING VIDEO CAMERA
7     MY BIRTHDAY TODAY
8     WITCHERY PART ONE
9     SELLING CANVAS HOOD
10   WITCHERY PART TWO
11   SELLING CARAVAN HITCHDRIVE 
12   WITCHERY PART THREE
13   SELLING RATCHET STRAPS  
14   WITCHERY PART FOUR
15   SELLING GOAL POSTS  
16   WITCHERY PART FIVE
17   SELLING A HI VIZ COAT
18   WITCHERY PART SIX

19   SELLING 3 TONNES OF CLAY    
2O  WITCHERY PART SEVEN
21   SELLING A WHEEL CLAMP
22   SHOPPING AND THE HESITANT DOORS
23   SELLING AN OLD PAIR OF BOOTS

24   THE REAL DE VINCI CODE

25   MY GUITAR AND AMP

26   SELLING MOTORBIKE PANNIERS

27   HALLOWEEN

28 SELLING A HIGHWAY CODE

29 ZEN AND THE ART OF  LAND ROVER MAINTENANCE

30  SELLING A CIGARETTE LIGHTER AND A TRIP TO SCOTLAND

31  CHRISTMAS LIGHT RAGE

32  METAMORPHOSIS

33 SELLING AN AMBER BEACON

34 THE UNIVERSE IS A  BIG PLACE

35 SELLING A  BLOW LAMP

36 SELLING BOOTS UPDATE

37 SELLING A  TORCH

38 SELLING A MOTORBIKE JACKET

39 SELLING A POWER JUICER

40 SELLING A HORSE WHIP

41 THE BOAT

42 SELLING LAND ROVER SIDE STEPS

43 SELLING A  TOW / RECOVERY CHAIN

44 SELLING LAND ROVER BULL BARS

45 SELLING THE FOGGYDAVE CARRIER BAG

46 CARAVAN RAGE OR AGINCOURT DEUXIEME PARTIE

 

 

 

 

STORY 4 SELLING LANDROVER WHEELS

AND TYRES ON EBAY     

Note no PDF file for this sale

Below is the description on the Ebay sale

Note added to description.

If these tyres are not sold my loved one says she will make a necklace and earring set out of them. She feels these will go well with the black and puce bell tent she calls a dress, so please just to save my embarrassment, bid  something.   By the way the winner of my Landover, (a nice guy in Holland), did not take my advice and happened to stare at my wife. Whether in admiration that such an engineering feat could have been created (her bra), or in fear and awe I never found out, any English he possessed seemed to be forgotten in the blabbering that followed. To cap it all my wife thought he fancied her, (maybe the manic drooling) and smiled, SMILED, not a thing any sane person wants to see more than once in their lifetime. So as I said any help in the matter of disposing of the wheels (and wife) would be appreciated. On a more sinister note I received no feedback or any communication from the Dutch gentleman, and wonder as he was going to Hull docks whether he got lost in the Doncaster triangle. This is a location bordered by the M1, M18, and M62. A notorious area for unexplained disappearances of both men and machines, at its centre is the village of Hooton Pagnell, the Roswell of the North.

The Doncaster triangle Roswell of the North

 

After a few days I got my first bidder

Note added

Oh joy, some kind person has bid on the wheels, obviously a person of discerning taste who has an eye for a bargain, someone of wit and culture. My wife is a little miffed as she thought they would not sell, and was telling all her friends about the assemblage she was going to wear to the local hop. Tyre earrings and a tyre pendant held together with fencing wire. She also got some old Landover leaf springs from the shed to strengthen her gussets. She needs all the support she can find in that area especially when hopping.

Hopping refers not to the local dance hall hop that on a Saturday night opens its doors to the resident young ones, but to the sport of hopping. With one leg shorter than the other it is a requirement that all islanders become proficient in the art of hopping. This was for the times when visits were made to neighbouring islands, many of which were flat. The wooden leg was banned on most islands as it was considered a fertility symbol, and with the intricate life like carving on some legs, you were in no doubt as to what part of the male anatomy they alluded to. They also damaged the lino in the hallways, but probably the main reason was that they were used in the ancient martial art of “I Pong Tu”. This is a form of fighting that utilizes the wooden leg as well as the intricate movement of the nose-picking finger, coupled with a deadly form of nasal chanting. Not to be actively tried when one has a cold, as the head could implode causing bits of the face to be sucked in creating a sort of black hole.

She was also going to take one of the tyres to sit on, as she has a bad attack of piles. (That’s not piles for piers but haemorrhoids for aristocrats).The other day she went out and bought the American classic “The grapes of wrath” thinking that it was a medical book on piles, and hoping that it held some miracle cure. Also to look at the often graphic photo’s you get in that sort of book. (They are sometimes so horrific that your ills and deformities just pale into insignificance). Although she found the book of little use apart from hitting me with, it looks good on the mantelpiece and gives us an air of being a learned family who “know” the classics. How many people I wonder stock their bookshelves with unopened books on poetry, classics, Playboy, Land rovers are us, etc just to fit the image they try so hard to project. In our case it is just the one book and a Jehovah Witness magazine. It is only the one magazine, as they never came again. I am open to all religions, especially those that choose not to visit me. Because of my age I tend to hedge my bets just in case, and having lost many loved ones, I hope someone is up there to meet, greet, and say have a nice day. Although I suppose I could be going down not up. Many are the discussions I have had on my doorstep talking of event horizons, the cosmos, more galaxies than grains of sand etc to sadly closed religious minds. Well I say sadly closed, to me it’s sad, but I often think the happiest people around are those that believe so strongly, that any event, mishap, catastrophe, what to buy for Uncle Ron on his eighty first birthday etc. Are all answered and explained by an omnipotent being, the explanation being that it is this deity’s will. Does this mean that you are not to blame for the consequences of any decision and action that are taken? When I tire of the discussions I bring the wife out, and with a very big stick point out all the various examples on her anatomy that evolution in our case has changed, but in hers has not i.e. body hair, open pores, odour, and baleful animal stare.

 She has already earmarked the money from the sale of the tyres to get the lawn mower blades honed, as she wants to shave her legs and other unmentionable parts of her anatomy. Most of which I think would be best left covered in greasy hair. I wanted to spend it on getting a full school uniform for the lad; he only has a cap at the moment so we stand him in the window with just his head showing, then people will think we are rich.

Note added

Someone has mentioned a proprietary brand of hair removal cream instead of the lawn mower. We have tried everything, Nitromores, sanding discs, blow torch etc. All the normal methods, but to no avail. I even took her to work one day and stood her in the sand blasting booth, (this was the big one with grit the size of golf balls and a 5000lb pressure gun). The only difference we could see after an hour of spraying grit, and much merriment from my co-workers, who were under the impression they were cleaning the slag off a particularly intricate casting, was that on the hairless parts she was just a little shinier. She now buffs up really nicely on those bits with a bit of Brasso. After many experiments, we found the only way is to cut the hairs with a blade as sharp as a whisper of air. We could achieve the same result with an industrial sized cutthroat razor, but what with her spasms and uncontrolled sweating palms she was in real danger of cutting her throat, and most of the throats in the immediate vicinity. Also taking off a leg or two, or shortening the shorter one even shorter than it is shorter than the other longer one now.

Talking of her shorter leg we get round the problem of staying upright by either a wooden leg, or if on a particularly arduous journey, she ties a beer crate snowshoe like to her shorter leg. This aids in two ways. She stands upright, and also has an ever-ready supply of bottles of Everards extra strength stout to ward of the plague and other pestilences, which because of her genetic makeup and ever-open pores she is prone to contracting. She had a bad case of Bubonic plague the other year but we put her in a hot room and she sweat it out, although she nearly died of drowning from her own perspiration, as the room was water and air tight.

Note added when someone else put a bid on for the tyres.

This is so exciting ANOTHER BIDDER. There will be revelry and celebrations in the Foggy Dave household tonight. After so long there will be bread on the table, yes bread, bread and lard, with salt and my dear one can have the brown jelly off the top of the lard bowl. We will have tea to drink, yes proper tea, tea in triangular bags not the plebby round ones; OH we will live high off the hog this fine eve. But wait, what if the buyer does not turn up, what if as he turns the corner his nerve goes and he scuttles crablike away hugging the hedge, lest he be seen by my beloved and dragged mewling and screaming over the thresh hold to await her bidding. NOOOOOOOOO I am sure the person who wins will be made of sterner stuff than that, he will be bold and certain. It takes a certain kind of bidder to bid on wheels and tyres such as these, a person of strong character who will laugh in the face of hardship, a person who will not flinch under the baleful gaze of my dear one. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm second chance offer anyone.

Eventually the tyres were won by a gentleman with a very French sounding name

An email to the French sounding gentleman on collection arrangements.

Hi Edward

I am working tonight so will be up at one pm and look forward to seeing you. Thank you for asking but sadly the wife will not be in. She was so looking forward to meeting you. If by any chance she is here do not mention your surname as she has a thing for continentals, (chocolates and people). No, my wife and mother in law will be out enjoying their favourite pastime of “lurking”. This involves “waiting “ or “lurking”. They hide outside the local infant’s school and scare the kids; they do this just by being in the vicinity and thinking certain dark thoughts. They are not visible but hide behind hedges and other big things. You know when you feel something is wrong or that an accident is about to happen, or you change your journey route because of a premonition of catastrophe, something you cannot quite put your finger on. Well that is what they cause, it’s a thought, odour thing, it has a lot to do with their open pores, they just have to be in the vicinity to cause it. In my case the fear is ever present and real just by being married to her, but hey, what with the pills and sedation I get through ok. They had a real success on Grimsby docks the other day when they caused  a mass  soiling of pants in a party of infants on a school trip. Oh we did laugh.  I also do not think you will like the lard Edward. It comes from the residue of the production of Tibetan Yak and Yeti soup or YY soup, and is expertly made from the lower intestine of the Yak, and the liver and right testacies of a Yeti for seasoning. (Yes, the Yeti is not extinct but is kept in deep mountain caves to avoid animal rights extremists. They have a yellow tinge and sing castrato). The fat is poured into a bowl and allowed to cool; it is then kept for one lunar month next to the potty, under the bed of the local monasteries high priest. Being very cold at night on the mountains, the priests invariably use the potty if they are caught short in the night. With no electricity and no light they fumble about under the bed sometimes getting the wrong pot. It is seen as particularly auspicious should they should wee in the lard bowl instead of the potty. This would form a gel coating and whoever eats the jelly formed is considered to be blessed. Therefore the lard is worth its weight in silver, its bitter taste is an acquired one, the secret being to put loads of salt on.                           

Edward did not collect and in the meantime anther bidder Ebay screen  name Archiebold real name Nick asked if he could have second refusal. He also enjoys the world of offroading with Land rovers

Email to Archie

So young Archie I await his (Edwards) reply but there is hope. Edward the buyer did not collect so I am trying to contact him. It would not be so bad but my wife made some rock cakes in anticipation of his visit and I ended up taking them to work, or as many as I could lift. I drive a lorry and the cakes immediately put me overweight, so I dumped them at junction 10 of the M1 for the construction people to use as ballast on the bridge pilings.  My wife’s cakes are dense, as in very dense, think cosmic, think dwarf star of such density that matter is warped into seven dimensions, that’s just the cakes, then there’s the tea, black thick “stand your spoon up” tea, biscuits when dunked instantly dissolve. The sugar just rests on the top unwilling or unable to sink. It takes five minutes to pour into a cup, well not a cup exactly, more one of those cupola things they smelt iron ore in, and with enough poking with a steel rod to coax it on its way it oozes out.

My wife has found out this guy has a French surname. The thought process was. French- Paris-Charles Aznavour- Maurice Chevalier- warm nights- romance. So out came the red bell tent of a dress, high heel shoe, (singular), and the fishnet tights. (I do mean fish net, actual deep seas large mesh ten gauge trawler net). She found this on Grimsby docks, and I tell you young Archie getting Wimpys in to put on and then scrape off the makeup and the subsequent skip hire and environmental charges was not cheap.

We too go off roading a lot mostly in quarries as its more eco friendly. We find the muddiest parts and tow the wife along behind face down, this fulfils a variety of functions.

a) a) A mud bath to help cleanse her ever-open pores.

b) b) A face pack to get rid of her infestations of blackheads, and other eruptions.

c) c) The scouring action of the clay scrapes away the dead skin, scabs, barnacles, and other encrustations that seem to readily plague my sweet one.

d) d) If we do get stuck which happens often she is always there with a ready shoulder to extract us. Oh my she looks so impressive with massive biceps and other ceps bulging as with sturdy legs braced she lifts the Land rover out of the mire.

 By the way young Archie a guy called Nick is using your Ebay account and sending emails. I would collar the fellow if I were you and horsewhip the bounder.

We are now a Bistro and my wife is sporting a droopy-waxed moustache and monocle. She is also wearing a perfume whose fragrance can only be described as “ode de onions”, which is slightly worse than the “ode de urine that she normally covers herself with. I do despair at times.              

Email to Edward as he again did not show up

Hi Edward

No show and no communication, this is not good, To show your commitment to purchasing the wheels could you send either a cheque or PayPal. I will store them as long as you like until you are in the area, I just need to know they are sold because if not I can relist free. My wife is not happy either, and when my wife is not happy no one in the vicinity is. She exudes this, what I will politely say is an aura of suppressed rage. It manifests itself in many ways from the noisy slamming of doors, enough to loosen the surrounding brickwork. To a quiet chameleon like change of colour from her normal pale, slightly green shade to a deep purple as the blood rushes, or tries to as it has a long way to go, around her body until as with an over pressurized boiler, rivets start to pop and steam escapes from every orifice. (The rivets in my beloved’s case are the ones that hold her corset together).The steam though is real, super heated lances of pure energy, and I do mean every orifice.

Regards Dave.

                      ------------------------------------

Note

There seems to be this human condition whether it’s just me or Britishness that stops me attacking this guy. I try to be as pleasant as possible so as not to cause ripples in my otherwise hard won Karma.

                     --------------------------------------

Edward bless him sent the money but no hint of when he is collecting. You would think in this electronic age communication would be better as it is so easy.

                     --------------------------------------

From Edward

Hi Dave.                                              

I have paid using PayPal, and thanks for holding on to them for me, I hope she will now simmer down a little, until I collect them.

Hi Edward.

Thanks for the payment. So many times I have been left hanging on and then the buyer says he does not want them. I appreciate you have to co ordinate collection but have you any idea of what day or time? My wife did cool down a bit, but all that steam mixed in with a goodly amount of beer and an Indian red hot curry, much beloved of the working classes on a Saturday evening, gave her a very uncomfortable night. It also put global warming up a few percent by her methane output. We did inform the local radio station to put out a NO NAKED LIGHTS warning and, as the neighbourhood seems intact this morning it worked. Needless to say as I was in the closest proximity to my dear one I suffered the most. I have often wondered if we could somehow hook her up to the gas main when cooking Sunday dinner, and then the gas boiler on the cold nights. I was going to tie her to the roof of the Landrover, install the necessary pipe work and use her waste gases as a means of propulsion. It would save a few bob but the problems of “blowback” were insurmountable.

Regards Dave

                       -----------------------------------

Still no Edward, the wheels and tyres are starting to create their own little bit of ecology around and inside them I am sure I saw a pair of beady eyes looking out the other day. Note! Must send email

                         --------------------------------

Ten days later after a telephone call.

 AT LAST.

Edward collected the tyres; I was at work at the time. I work nights as it’s the safest place to be in between sunset and sunrise. My wife said she would keep an eye out for him. Which one I don’t know, I just hope it wasn’t the scrying all seeing one. Edward where ever you are, if you are reading this I am sorry if anything nasty happened to you. All I know is that when I got home at daybreak there were 2 tyre skid marks up the road  as though some one had beat a hasty retreat

I tried to question the wife, but all I got was a steely glint in her eye, (singular), and an enigmatic grin. Now enigmatic grins on Sean Connery, Ursula Undress, and Nanette Neumann are very fine and handsome things, and are convincing in there enigmaticism, but my wife noooo. If you can imagine a grimace upside down with the lopsidedness of a stroke victim then you have it, and far from being enigmatic, it is just an upside down grimace and means much the same.

One of my wifes dresses as used by the Boy Scouts

 

 

Wash day at Foggydaves

 

Copyright © David B Forrester 2008