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Friday night humour, how to date a boater


honey ryder

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Being from the land of the civilised (darn sarf), no I'm most unlikely to ever go to Leeds to sample this most unlikely of products.

 

However, at a seriously posh butchers in a reassuringly expensive and rural part of Hampshire I was once intrigued by a small pork pie described using similar hyperbole to your description above. It was stupidly pricey (about six quid IIRC) so I was expecting something special but no, it contained the same bouncy, fatty ball of gristle one gets in a 90p Walls abomination. Granted it was pink as you describe, and the pastry was better, but ghastly and inedible all the same . I was definitely had over by their expert marketing and made to expect something good, just as you have been.

 

So seriously, I'm not driving to Leeds for more of the same disappointment thank you.

 

Now let me see, where can I get some nice organic courgettes?

 

Courgettes? That's like having a mouthful of wet bog paper!

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My husband is a pork pie fanatisist.Wherever we go on the boat-he has to try the pork pies. We even have places in Yorkshire when we have been there in the car visiting family- that we know we have to visit again at some point...

 

Put Settle on the list if it isn't already.

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pork pie?

 

um, I'd rather lick my dogs ring piece. pork pie is made up of lips'n'arseool anyway.

 

I generally cater pretty well for guests. I don't think it's the catering at fault.

I am going to have to investigate the pork pie though as part of my regional culinary research for my masters major project.

 

and for the person who asked what F6 is, on my compoota it controls the brightness of my keyboard illumination.

out on the water, (beaufort force) F6 is fun and frisky. Just the way I like my....

 

never mind.

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On the topic of dating boaters, frankly I doubt I'd be able to tell if a boater was coming onto me, as everything about boats sounds so rude. First thing the surveyor said to me was "your stern gland needs lubing and repacking" and it's only got worse from there, with talk of gearbox shafts needing thrust bearings (said by someone holding the gearbox shaft at crotch level, presumably because it was heavy, rather than to exaggerate the potential for innuendo).

  • Greenie 1
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