When gingers attack

[stihlmadasever]

4 minutes ago, WesD said:

If I stay clean shaven you’d never know I’m ginger?! Plus is strawberry blonde the same?

Yes it is wes...

Embrace your ginger genes..

I came to terms with being one of the frecklie folk many sunburns ago...

Take pride in your inner ging mate 

 

[Mick Dempsey]

I’m on the edge of the ginger spectrum. Celtic thing. (Surname gives it away)

[WesD]

33 minutes ago, stihlmadasever said:

Yes it is wes...

Embrace your ginger genes..

I came to terms with being one of the frecklie folk many sunburns ago...

Take pride in your inner ging mate 

 

I do mate, I mean I rock a ginger beard when really I don’t need too!

[NFG]

23 hours ago, htb said:

Can I have whatever your drinking

Sounds like hes had some of our Eau de Vie!

[WesD]

1 hour ago, Mick Dempsey said:

I’m on the edge of the ginger spectrum. Celtic thing. (Surname gives it away)

Looks like you only have a few years left of being ginger bullied though Mick  

[the village idiot]

We'd planned to have a quiet night in. Megabitch had gone to pilates class so we settled down infront of Hoppin' Mad Wolfie McTavish for an evening of decomposition therapy. Unfortunately no interesting bits were showing any inclination to drop off so we cut our losses and headed down to the Duck and Badger for the pub quiz.

 

I was still brooding over Arzgarth's ridiculous purchase of a non existant piano, but my mood brightened significantly when I spotted Blind Devil Demonseed at a corner table sipping on a cinzano and lemonade.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed was a regular at the Duck and Badger, infact I couldn't ever remember an occasion when he had not been there. He was short in stature and his eye sockets were completely hollow due to an ironic and unfortunate mishap some years back. He'd accidently scooped out both his eyeballs trying on a new pair of spectacles at the local opticians. He was also peculiar in the fact that he had two horny protrusions growing out of his forehead and a mysterious triangular bulge in the seat of his pants. His feet were vaguely hoof like which he put down to a virulent strain of trench foot, and his skin was bright crimson. Demonseed explained this away by claiming to be a ginger and fond of the outdoors. This seemed plausible, although his angry complexion didn't appear to change with the passing seasons.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed was not an easy fellow to categorize, but what he was, at least tonight, was an easy target! As Arzgarth worked out which end of the pencil the writing comes out of, I sidled over to Demonseed and challenged him to a game of darts.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed was not used to company and he readily agreed to a game. 501 with 2000 groats going to the winner. I could win back the non existant piano money. This would be like taking candy from a baby. Or so I thought.

 

I felt so confident that I couldn't possibly lose a game of darts to a blind red midget that I sportingly let Demonseed throw first. After I had turned him around to face the board he threw three treble 6's. I took my place at the oche and completely missed the board with all three darts! One of them ricocheted off a nail in the wall and implanted itself in the centre of Arzgarth's forehead. Needless to say, he was completely unaware of this event. It dawned on me that I was still concussed after my altercation with the daring ginger back at the wood the day before, and not on peak form.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed threw next. Again, three treble 6's! I was beginning to suspect some dark forces were at play. I kept my cool however and unleashed my next three arrows. Two thudded soundly into the gents toilet door, and one flew out of the tavern window skewering a passing pidgeon. This was not going well.

 

The pattern repeated itself until Demonseed was down to 18. He nonchalantly threw 6, double 6 and the game was his. I tersely congratulated Demonseed on his win and sorely guided him back to the wrong table where he fumbled about for his glass and took a hearty swig from a vase of wilting daffodils.

 

This was mortifying, we were now down 4000 groats for the day with absolutely nothing to show for it. I slunk back to our table to see if Arzgarth had fared any better. He had not. The main quiz had finished and Arzgarth had amassed the staggering total of 0 points. The only other competitor in the quiz was a half eaten bowl of fruit salad left on a table by the bar. The fruit salad had scored 1 point but had had this docked for illegal use of a blackberry.

 

This meant we were in a tie-break situation and I had arrived back just in time. I couldn't beat a blind demon at darts, but I sure as hell wasn't going to be intellectually bettered by a bowl of fruit!

As fate would have it the tie break question concerned the decomposition rate of celtic flesh in a pure vinegar solution. Result! I glanced over at the fruit salad, it was looking worried. Arzgarth and I got the answer spot on, the pesky pudding was WAY out. 

 

The first prize in the quiz was 4000 groats. We had broken even after all!

 

Arzgarth finished up his Um bongo and we headed back to the yurt. What a splendid end to a real up and down day. I sat back in my favourite rocking throne, Arzgarth curled up in his basket and we drifted off into peaceful, satisfied slumber.

Edited January 19, 2018 by the village idiot

[Mick Dempsey]

21 hours ago, WesD said:

Looks like you only have a few years left of being ginger bullied though Mick  

I could shave and walk amongst men as an equal, but the spirit of Rosa Parks drives me on.

Edited January 19, 2018 by Mick Dempsey

[Mesterh]

6 hours ago, the village idiot said:

We'd planned to have a quiet night in. Megabitch had gone to pilates class so we settled down infront of Hoppin' Mad Wolfie McTavish for an evening of decomposition therapy. Unfortunately no interesting bits were showing any inclination to drop off so we cut our losses and headed down to the Duck and Badger for the pub quiz.

 

I was still brooding over Arzgarth's ridiculous purchase of a non existant piano, but my mood brightened significantly when I spotted Blind Devil Demonseed at a corner table sipping on a cinzano and lemonade.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed was a regular at the Duck and Badger, infact I couldn't ever remember an occasion when he had not been there. He was short in stature and his eye sockets were completely hollow due to an ironic and unfortunate mishap some years back. He'd accidently scooped out both his eyeballs trying on a new pair of spectacles at the local opticians. He was also peculiar in the fact that he had two horny protrusions growing out of his forehead and a mysterious triangular bulge in the seat of his pants. His feet were vaguely hoof like which he put down to a virulent strain of trench foot, and his skin was bright crimson. Demonseed explained this away by claiming to be a ginger and fond of the outdoors. This seemed plausible, although his angry complexion didn't appear to change with the passing seasons.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed was not an easy fellow to categorize, but what he was, at least tonight, was an easy target! As Arzgarth worked out which end of the pencil the writing comes out of, I sidled over to Demonseed and challenged him to a game of darts.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed was not used to company and he readily agreed to a game. 501 with 2000 groats going to the winner. I could win back the non existant piano money. This would be like taking candy from a baby. Or so I thought.

 

I felt so confident that I couldn't possibly lose a game of darts to a blind red midget that I sportingly let Demonseed throw first. After I had turned him around to face the board he threw three treble 6's. I took my place at the oche and completely missed the board with all three darts! One of them ricocheted off a nail in the wall and implanted itself in the centre of Arzgarth's forehead. Needless to say, he was completely unaware of this event. It dawned on me that I was still concussed after my altercation with the daring ginger back at the wood the day before, and not on peak form.

 

Blind Devil Demonseed threw next. Again, three treble 6's! I was beginning to suspect some dark forces were at play. I kept my cool however and unleashed my next three arrows. Two thudded soundly into the gents toilet door, and one flew out of the tavern window skewering a passing pidgeon. This was not going well.

 

The pattern repeated itself until Demonseed was down to 18. He nonchalantly threw 6, double 6 and the game was his. I tersely congratulated Demonseed on his win and sorely guided him back to the wrong table where he fumbled about for his glass and took a hearty swig from a vase of wilting daffodils.

 

This was mortifying, we were now down 4000 groats for the day with absolutely nothing to show for it. I slunk back to our table to see if Arzgarth had fared any better. He had not. The main quiz had finished and Arzgarth had amassed the staggering total of 0 points. The only other competitor in the quiz was a half eaten bowl of fruit salad left on a table by the bar. The fruit salad had scored 1 point but had had this docked for illegal use of a blackberry.

 

This meant we were in a tie-break situation and I had arrived back just in time. I couldn't beat a blind demon at darts, but I sure as hell wasn't going to be intellectually bettered by a bowl of fruit!

As fate would have it the tie break question concerned the decomposition rate of celtic flesh in a pure vinegar solution. Result! I glanced over at the fruit salad, it was looking worried. Arzgarth and I got the answer spot on, the pesky pudding was WAY out. 

 

The first prize in the quiz was 4000 groats. We had broken even after all!

 

Arzgarth finished up his Um bongo and we headed back to the yurt. What a splendid end to a real up and down day. I sat back in my favourite rocking throne, Arzgarth curled up in his basket and we drifted off into peaceful, satisfied slumber.

I think one of your numskulls has gone rogue mate. 

 

That or he has his foot stock in a bucket and is causing all kinds of mayhem in the control centre.

 

Not too far removed from this guy.

 

 

 

 

[silky fox]

I think one of your numskulls has gone rogue mate. [emoji37]
 
That or he has his foot stock in a bucket and is causing all kinds of mayhem in the control centre.
 
Not too far removed from this guy.
 
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[emoji1] Those rat traps though![emoji856][emoji856][emoji856][emoji856]

[Khriss]

On 17/01/2018 at 20:58, the village idiot said:

Had an unfortunate but all too predictable situation at the Wood today.

 

An unashamedly ginger rival logger strayed onto my patch. He was wielding a mightily impressive double header and was no doubt intent on scrumping some of my trees.

 

Luckily I had been pre warned of this unwelcome visitation. The dark Lord Odin had left the unmistakable portent of a stray crouton in my reliably crouton free Chicken and Mushroom Cup a Soup.

 

I had taken good heed of this warning and for the last two weeks I had been concealed under a blanket of moss, awaiting the unwelcome visitor. Fortunately I had instructed my trusty friend Arzgarth the Putrid to deliver me pepperami's at regular intervals through a discreet slit cut in the sphagnum.

 

Upon hearing the flat footed patter (unique to an axe wielding ginger) I sprung out of my hidey hole to confront the runt.

 

Unfortunately the terrifying effect of my lunge was somewhat compromised, as my 14 days motionless underground had taken it's toll on my muscles. At the apex of my heroic spring all my muscles went into spasm and I landed with a slap at his feet, stiff as an ironing board and squeeking in agony.

 

After a few seconds I regained control of my body and stood up, my plan being to execute the same move again with more aplomb. Unluckily for my assailant he chose this exact moment to straddle me, presumably in order to deliver a fatal axe blow. The point of my Mongolian Battle Hat caught him directly in his ginger nuts and he doubled over in pain, splitting his trousers to reveal an impressive pair of Super Ted underpants.

 

We spent the next three or four minutes wheezing against opposing pines before eventually re-commencing battle. 

 

Luckily for me the ginger impinger had not anticipated resistance and had left his shield in his Suzuki Jimny. This left him open to a flurry of perfectly executed Burmese broadsword backhands, and before long he was reduced to a red and orange dribbling mess at the base of my thigh high Ottoman battle boots.

 

As luck would have it, Arzgarth arrived mid conquest with a hairy fist full of pepperami's and managed to take this snap of the action on the funsnaps camera his wife Megabitch (Slayer of Serenity) got him for Crimbo.

 

 

I post this as a warning to all those who know there to be gingers in the vicinity. Take good heed of your hot instant savoury beverages and show no mercy.

 

 

Arzgarth was so pleased he had finally worked out which button meant 'go' that he soon after doubled his count of successful shots with a selfie.

 

Arzgarth (the putrid)

 

 

 

 

Footnote:  I just received a telegram from the Forestry Commission. Apparently one of their woodland officers was going to pop in to return an axe I had lent them and discuss the latest grant proposals. He was on his way home from a Middle Earth battle re-enactment.

 

Hope he shows up soon, I need to alert him to the worrying resurgence of the Orange Order, introducing un-natural pigmentation to nature's beautiful palette.

 

Stay vigilant.  TVI.

Well , I find myself strangely drawn to this hideous ginger upstart ...I pray ye hath his telephone number   In other news a fine and capable young man left us today , climbing in forests new I am sad to say , but we railed him mercilessly - might even expressed ' ginger' sentiments ... but he will go far K