Tonight was a very special affair for the word army, not only was it the first outing for the newly acquired battle bus but this was a trip deep into the auld enemy’s heartland across the Yorkshire border into Huddersfield.

This was the main thrust for the army but a smaller skirmishing group was sent to the Urbis in Manchester to confuse the enemy. Report on this elsewhere.

The platoon consisted of Field-marshal “Dangerous” Dave Morgan , General Julian Jordon, Major Malcolm Whittle, Special ops John and Sandre Clays, Lieutenant Linda and Private Paul Blackburn. As the battle bus plough easily through enemy defences the whole trip nearly came to an untimely disastrous conclusion when driver “Dangerous” Dave nearly missed the exit off the motor way and swerved wildly causing great consternation within the ranks. Dave managed to somehow regain control of the vehicle and we all knelt down (it is a big people carrier) and said a little prayer.

We eventually found Huddersfield and after a few detours (to throw any pursuers off I’m sure) eventually made contact with the Albert public house - all this thanks to the scouting of General Jordon. We swiftly mounted an attack on the bar acquiring suitable munitions to mount a first attack then we scoured the pub for the enemy. At last we found them ensconced in a room at the back skilfully disguised as “The Dining Room”.

The Huddersfield group call themselves "The Albert Poets" (for obvious reasons) and seem to have been around for quite a while - there were a couple of their anthologies for sale (although they gave us some for free). Apparently the pub had been shut for several months and had reopened only a couple of days earlier, so this was a welcome return for the Alberts. In honour of the occasion the Landlord put on a fairly impressive buffet and made a collection for charity in return. Needless to say the Army made great inroads into the scran.

The group was an interesting mix of poets, many middle-aged but a few younger ones too. The poetry in general was good, mainly serious yet interesting stuff well performed though the odd lighter one or two did make an appearance and the atmosphere was one of friendly appreciation. Most poets read two poems but the convention seemed to be to applaud at the end of each poets reading i.e. not to applaud after the first poem which seemed a bit odd.

There were two sets and the word army were content to let the first set go by uncontested except for the odd snipers round or two (mainly because we arrived half way through). The second set was a different matter completely with every member of the word army tossing off grenade after machine gun burst and generally devastating the room.

So it was another success for the WoL irregulars and even some of the Albert’s said that the Word army contribution was a "Breath of Fresh Air" that they had thoroughly enjoyed.

So watch out we just maybe coming to your group soon.

I had a drink with that Janet Fisher in th'Albert once. Long time ago now. Oh yes, it was an odd pub. But that's Huddersfield for you. I hope you mentioned this forum to the Albert Poets. Spread the word ...

I can't help laughing as I write that. My father, who's what some might call a 'proper gent', dislikes the word diarrhoea. It offends his sensibilities. Whenever we went on holiday to foreign climes when I was a child and he would succomb to a bout of travellers' tummy, as he always seemed to do, he would refer to his condition simply as 'the Word'. 'I have the Word,' he would mutter, clutching his stomach, before sloping off in search of medication.

So when I ask you to 'Spread the Word' around Huddersfield, you can perhaps understand my merriment. :lol:

I'm glad all this hot weather is putting you in mind of summers past. It was always 'Spanish tummy' in our family, even if we happened to be in Devon. Interestingly enough, a former boyfriend of mine was brought up to call poohs 'tummies' (I imagine because even pooh was too much for his family's sensibilities). Unfortunately, the fast food joint at the end of our road at the time was called 'Tummies' and made him wretch every time he walked past. :rolleyes:
Ahh ... fond memories.

I'm really sorry to be hijacking your thread to talk about poo, Ten Trees - well, I'm not really sorry or I'd refrain from doing it, but I am a little bit sorry and it's the thought that counts - but yes, I know exactly what you mean, Neen, about these silly family euphemisms.

For instance, my husband's family calls farting 'pumping' (this is apparently meant to be more delicate a word, though it seems far more descriptive and gross, in my opinion) which can lead to some odd conversations, especially in public. And genitals in general, both male and female, are referred to euphemistically as 'tiddles'.

Now Tiddles was the name of my first ever cat, who was tragically run over by my elder sister's boyfriend when I was about eleven. So you can imagine ...

:blink:

My sister's family call it 'trumping' or 'parps' but we like farts here ... old fashioned I guess. The tiddles thing must be a bit of a passion killer :o

ps TenTrees - I'm glad you made it into Yorkshire, culture shock though it probably was.