My Grandfather and a Sausage

in his younger days, grandfather's playground was the back streets of Morecombe. he would idle away the summer months with his pal, joe. together they would search far and wide in their quest for lice, which they collected in an old tin bucket and then sold to anyone with a need for lice and a penny to pay for them.

joe, aged 9

http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/09_03/stalinDM2109_468x551.jpg

a bucket, similar to the one they may have used

http://www.ilmfruits.com/wp-content/uploads/bucket.jpg
 
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carry on sunshine-i've got a feeling i'm going to enjoy this!!:D

:p:p
 
carry on sunshine-i've got a feeling i'm going to enjoy this!!:D

:p:p

that feeling is prolly wind... :D

*ahem*

bereft at the loss of his boyhood chum, grandfather succumbed to the charms of a local beauty, and after a whirlwind romance and several mocca coffees and a large slice of cake, they married.

brenda arbuthnot-horsehiair-mattress on her wedding day

http://dogs.thefuntimesguide.com/images/blogs/pug-dog-bride.jpg

grandfather on the eve of his wedding

http://hungaria.org/uploaded/images/20040707-004959_3.jpg

a slice of cake (uneaten)

http://www.hot-screensaver.com/wp-myimages/chocolate-cake.jpg
 
grandfather palled up with an albanian during his days in the legion. dimitri had joined the legion to avoid arrest by the authorities for smuggling wicker baskets across the macedonian border into greece. a crime for which the punishment was the gallows.

a heavily disguised dimitri in action as a smuggler (pic reproduced by kind permission of inteflora)

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/82/231688027_f9e4fd1e55.jpg?v=0
 
finally, after serving his contract with the legion, grandfather was discharged from service. with little ambition but with his pockets stuffed full of cash, grandfather returned to england and tried to settle down to civilian life as a farmer. he bought a small allotment outside halifax and tried his hand at making tyres for the blossoming michelin company.

grandfather and friend farming

http://www.photoseek.com/99TUR-22-01_farmer+donkey_carrying_boards,_Simena.jpg
 
it was during this spell as a farmer that he heard of his former wife's fate. the coal miner, following an arguement over which fork to use during dinner, stormed from the galley and in a rage, nudged the arm of the chap steering at the time. the ship veered off course and ran straight into a large lump of ice that was floating about just minding it's own business.

the scene shortly after the ice was so rudely bumped into

http://students.umf.maine.edu/~kellybt/index_files/imageSubmarine2sinking.gif


the lump of ice - enjoying a cocktail. the lump was largely unaffected physically, but it did take up the offer of counselling by white star line

http://cms.mumbaimirror.com/portalfiles/19/10/200803/Image/ice%20drink1.jpg
 
grandfather, bored with civilian life, still with at least £3.21 in his pocket, and with a sense of adventure swelling his heart joined the local constabulary. he was used to the uniform, the discipline, and the easy camerarderie of the force.

grandfather (plus colleagues) as a detective, several years into his career

http://magecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/MMPH/174273~The-Police-Posters.jpg
 
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it was too good to last however, and grandfather fell in with the wrong crowd. he began doing 'favours' for 'Big' Tony Applecart, and thus fell into the seedy underworld of crime, which went hand in hand with the fantastic underworld of free booze, drugs, and hookers!

...erm. where was i?

the right crowd, grandfather should've gotten in with. indeed this crowd was only two more tube stops away down the victoria line

http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/39986000/jpg/_39986264_gal_v2_crowd.jpg

'Big' Tony, or as he was known to his friends, Alf.

http://images.inmagine.com/img/rubberball/rbv014/rbv0140564.jpg
 
realising that if you can't beat 'em, then BDSM prolly isn't the sport for you, grandfather joined tony's gang. of course it wasn't long before he was apprehended by his former colleagues and slammed in chokey.

it was in wormwood scrubs that grandfather met pretty pete, or clarissa as he preferred to be known at weekends.

pretty pete strangling a tube of toothpaste, the crime for which he was sentenced to 11 days behind bars

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v487/noodlesbad/april05blog/irongiant1.jpg

pete (middle) in his guise as 'clarissa', with two friends upon release from jail

http://www.streetseen.com/Portals/0/images/Pres_calendar/Pres_Rides_IMG_5158.jpg
 
then fortune played one of its mysterious cards. joe, grandad's old lice-collecting-but-subsequently-banished-to-the-tropic-of-siberia pal got in touch. he'd read about grandad's fluctuating fortunes in the sun newspaper and, since he was now acting, unpaid, unwanted lance-corporal in the peoples-army-for-socio-econmic-reform-and-mass-slaughter (which he would one day rule with a rod... erm... yes, a rod of iron), he offered grandad a job within the organisation.

cards, similar to the ones fate may have dealt

http://www.magicbob2000.com/resources/hocus%20cards_edited-3.jpg

joe proudly showing the single chevron of his rank

http://greggsutter.com/mt/archives/stalin.jpg

a rod, albeit not of the iron variety - with accessory

http://www.hearya.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/122357__rod_stewart_l.jpg
 
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