So, who wants to help ... to rattle on in the cellar?


< beady glare >
No, Twellsy, I wasn’t.



Bet she was folk

You know I care for all cellerati don’t you Gus?

So I gently play silly beggars

I could unearth my trapeze you know





I have been disposing of some papers whilst waiting for summat to cook . Am looking for 2 letters, which actually came last week

Can I find them ?

Can I Ferk…

Sighs & Liberates Pitcher



Sidles in with a large bag under one arm and attempts to look innocent and unsuspicious


Well I s’pose if yer virgins are getting dusty…

Night all.


Is virginity a prerequisite to being in the cellar now?

I can manage dusty wee birdie but fail the other


Please don’t trouble on my account, Twells’o’me’heart. Ittiz a small cpboard, where kettles and shopping- and plastic bags and umbrellas go to die. No room to swing a gerbil properly, lettalone a respected Cellarite in airborne mode.
Not the feckin’ Big Top, in other words. And it really doesn’t need squeakwins. The tinsel will be responsibly disposed of. Either to dear ditzy neighbour or terminally.


I did say there was little call for 'em, Sparrer.

Right. That would be the lottovus out on our ears, arses, or whichever other parts you might care to specify.

You know, I think probably it isn’t.
Anyone want some dusters? A whole free cat comes with.


Or a consequence?


Hm. Does time in the Cellar flow like the Am, then?
'evry ‘arlot’…

Doesn’t work in reverse, joe. We can be celibate, Cellarbait, unable to be arsed, sooo over that, too drunk to care or just plain picky. Or just plain.
Any or all of the above might be 'consequences ', although I’d be interested to see the data, but I’m not regrowing a hymen anytime soon in any scenario.

You and yer consequence, ffs. Salutations to the chookery.


Ooh, I’ve had a little inadvertent taste of Power. Playing wiv a shredder in the wee sma’ hours.
Gone to me head, it has, so am now having a lie-down. And tea. Lovely tea. Although it is fine weather forra yardarm; but I shall leave that in the expert wings of That Sparrer.


Shredders is Great.

Though thanks to research done in Germany after reunification (when the Stasi shredded everything, including their files on the actual dangerous criminals), I find it’s best to burn the shred just to be on the safe side.



'Hedgers made me do it, yer Honour '… as harf sarf lunnon goes up in smoke


Bacon butties and fresh bread are off

Ed Akes badly

I will droop over my trapeze outside wearing my thermal squeakwinned leopard onesie



You can Decline on yer Chaise wivvan cashmere blanket & go sweep, as my Grandson used to say



Droops onto chaise and whimpers quietly…


[fryity] [fryity]

fried bread ‘n’ bacon ‘n’ eggs ‘n’ mushrooms ‘n’ black pud ‘n’ white pud ‘n’ sossinges forra sufferin’ Twellsy (& others)


Was Galway yesterday, or izzit today ?




What a kind birdie