Does no-one want...

... the last whitebait? No?



With thanks to the Jolly Sailors' inn, Brancaster for this alternative seafood surprise, lurking right at the bottom of a heap of boring ordinary whitebait.
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7 comments:

JuliaM said...

Shortly to be renamed on the menu 'Whitebait Surprise', no doubt...

Beverley said...

what did it taste like?

Captain Haddock said...

"what did it taste like"? ..

A bit like Whitebait but "horsier", I'd imagine .. Lol

Anonymous said...

It's sad. Seahorses are quite rare and mostly protected.

J Demetriou said...

One of your better articles, CF. Well done.

You fat wanker.

Constantly Furious said...

@J Demetriou

I'm not surprised you're not impressed by this post:

* it's not over 2,000 words long;

* it doesn't bang on and on about something I found in my Dad's copy of the Daily Mail;

* it doesn't have hundreds of comments after it, where another blogger and I congratulate each other on our perspecacity (look it up);

* it doesn't contain a lot of bitter whinging about other, better bloggers;

* there's not a lot of irrelevant self-aggrandisment (look that up too);

In short, its nothing like the sort of tedious crap you post.

Why don't you fuck off back to your own blog, you sad, pointless cock?


Oh, and one more thing: you say I'm a 'fat wanker', and yet you don't know who I am, or what I look like. You also frequently call Old Holborn 'fat'; I've not met him, though he doesn't look particularly corpulent in the November 5th photo's.

In my experience, those who throw the word 'fat' around as a deadly insult to all and sundry have generally been victims of the same insult themselves, in the playground.

Are you a bit of a salad-dodger yourself? A bit 'porky'? Do you get teased at break-time? Just interested to know if my theory is correct.

J Demetriou said...

salad dodger? I like that. I might use that in future.

I have no concrete proof of your rotundity, but as a betting man I'd lay money that you're a bit of a rosy faced porker. A right grumpy old git too.

Keep blogging, dad. We're clinging like ravenous vultures to your every word...