In the Yorkshire Terrier tonight were a number of what can only be called "Star Trek Geeks" (2m, 1f). They discussed Photon Torpedoes, ST: The Slow Motion Picture and other stuff. Often I had to actually not laugh whilst they were talking to avoid showing I'd been earwigging on their stuff.
Hypocrittical b**tard you might say.
Fair enough, but I know the limits.
Anyway, after they left, the table next to us errupted in laughter which caused us to some extent follow suit. We had all been aware that the Trekkies were in the building. The table next to us turned out to comprise a) a magician; b) a birthday boy with a spud gun and a potato; c) the long-suffering (I imagine) girlfriend of spud-gun boy.
Much amusement ensued by us watching in regards of i) how spud guns can lead to fights; ii) how big potatoes don't fit well into either pint glasses or coat pockets; iii) how you shouldn't attempt to dispose of your girlfriend through a "Bosman Transfer".
I hope they didn't all end up in Casualty. Or The Bill.
Or Bagpuss.
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2 comments:
Did you know what a Bosman Transfer was when you wrote this? I had to look it up!
I knew it was something to do with football players transferring between clubs for free, but not all the whys and wherefores of it.
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