Grandad

[WOM]

Grandad

Flynnie wrote:

At 36 it comes as a surprise when a Sunday afternoon Radio 4 show, of all things, drops a hint that you're at the elderly end of their demographic:

More mature listeners may remember the moment on 29th April 1992, when four Los Angeles police officers were acquitted of the assault and beating of Rodney King.

From yesterday's Open Book

I remember that event extremely clearly and I'm still in my 30s.

I remember that event fairly clearly and I'm still in my 20s for the next few months.

Admittedly, I'm from California so that was a slightly bigger deal there than in the UK.

Your 20s? The fuck? I've been reading you in your early 40s. Sorry old ...er ..young man.

[Jah Womble]

Grandad

We have people in their twenties on here?

Call security.

[hobbes]

Grandad

All of them, don't remember the Falklands though

Nor did the British public until Thatcher saw a way to get herself re-elected.

[treibeis]

Grandad

WOM wrote:
Your 20s? The fuck? I've been reading you in your early 40s. Sorry old ...er ..young man.

What are you getting all het up about? You can swap jeans, trainers and hoodies with him.

[WOM]

Grandad

This is what you think of me?

I would never wear previously worn trainers.

[treibeis]

Grandad

WOM wrote: This is what you think of me?

I would never wear previously worn trainers.

I thought you lot never even wore most of the trainers you buy new.

You simply collect them, don't you? And then go to craft-beer boutiques and tell each other how many pairs you own?

[WOM]

Grandad

No, that's hipsters you're thinking of. I'm cleanly shaven and don't own either a fixie or an iPhone.

I have far too many shoes, but I wear them all. And whatever I buy used would never, ever include shoes. Or underwear.

[Benjm]

Grandad

I've heard that some drink craft beer from their trainers, for extra decadent effect. It works better with simple leather styles than padded jogging shoe type designs apparently.

But this is an unnecessary distraction from heartwarming tales of May to December bromance.

[WOM]

Grandad

Craft beers are so last October. Artisanal salt is where it's at, now. And ironic pickles. Mark my words.

My bromance with treibeis is more May to October; the crazy golf season.

[treibeis]

Grandad

WOM wrote: Craft beers are so last October. Artisanal salt is where it's at, now. And ironic pickles. Mark my words.

My bromance with treibeis is more May to October; the crazy golf season.

Isn't gin all the go at the moment? Or is that even more 'out' than craft beers?

Round here, 'food your grandparents had to eat' seems to be where it's at. People seem to be willing to shell out half their take-home pay for a bowl of swede stew. Fucking idiots.

And saying there's a crazy golf 'season' is like saying there's a 'breathing 'season'. You get the 'ironic crazy golfers' once the weather gets a bit warmer, but they're, well, a bit wanky.

And they're also the ones who take it more seriously than anybody ought to. "Hole 17's not level"; "The balls don't roll straight"; "The club's shit"; "The rubber sucker to get the ball out of the hole's got a 2-mm split in it"; "The pencil's seen better days, hasn't it?".

This would be just about okay if they knew what they were doing (after all, they are paying the same amount that they'd pay for a spoonful of swede soup), but they don't: Most of them look like they've never played a ball sport of any description in their life, not even marbles or pinball. They've probably never even rolled a bogey between their thumb and forefinger, the useless bastards.

I mean, from the teeing-off point to the hole is about five metres, yet these fuckers are drawing back the club over their shoulder as if they're teeing off at Gleneagles. And then, after they've belted the thing into a street with a different postcode and made even bigger arses of themselves than they were before, they start blaming my gear.

Give me six weeks and I'll have banned every single person who's ever turned up there.

[MsD]

Grandad

Gin is all the go this week, there's a bar in Whitechapel that serves 200 types, and I am slowly working my way through a bottle of Bombay Sapphire.

Which reminds me, must wash my Gin Alley t-shirt, which I can now wear as an ironic counterpoint.

[Guy Profumo]

Grandad

treibeis wrote:

Craft beers are so last October. Artisanal salt is where it's at, now. And ironic pickles. Mark my words.

My bromance with treibeis is more May to October; the crazy golf season.

Isn't gin all the go at the moment? Or is that even more 'out' than craft beers?

Round here, 'food your grandparents had to eat' seems to be where it's at. People seem to be willing to shell out half their take-home pay for a bowl of swede stew. Fucking idiots.

And saying there's a crazy golf 'season' is like saying there's a 'breathing 'season'. You get the 'ironic crazy golfers' once the weather gets a bit warmer, but they're, well, a bit wanky.

And they're also the ones who take it more seriously than anybody ought to. "Hole 17's not level"; "The balls don't roll straight"; "The club's shit"; "The rubber sucker to get the ball out of the hole's got a 2-mm split in it"; "The pencil's seen betetr days, hasn't it?".

This would be just about okay if they knew what they were doing (after all, they are paying the same amount that they'd pay for a spoonful of swede soup), but they don't: Most of them look like they've never played a ball sport of any description in their life, not even marbles or pinball. They've probably never even rolled a bogey between their thumb and forefinger, the useless bastards.

I mean, from the teeing-off point to the hole is about five metres, yet these fuckers are drawing back the club over their shoulder as if they're teeing off at Gleneagles. And then, after they've belted the thing into a street with a different postcode and made even bigger arses of themselves than they were before, they start blaming my gear.

Give me six weeks and I'll have banned every single person who's ever turned up there.

Treibeis. At work. Yesterday.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ac9Z6CN14Gs

[WOM]

Grandad

MsD wrote: Gin is all the go this week, there's a bar in Whitechapel that serves 200 types, and I am slowly working my way through a bottle of Bombay Sapphire.

"slowly"

[MsD]

Grandad

Oh bugger, I just remembered I put the tonic in the freezer.

[beak]

Grandad

WOM wrote: Artisanal salt is where it's at

I used to live around the corner from this artisanal salt shop.

Discounting it being a front for something dodgy ("smelling salts: sixty euros a gram"), I could never understand how they did enough trade to cover the rates. Their online trade must be fucking massive, because I never saw anybody go in there.

[WOM]

Grandad

...billion dollar global market.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/report-on-business/small-business/sb-growth/the-challenge/artisanal-salt-maker-shakes-out-the-winning-entry/article20647434/

[ursus arctos]

Grandad



When I was about 5, a cousin who was living in Germany brought me a box of nine different salts from a mine there. Each was a different colour. It was a really cool gift.

[WOM]

Grandad

Then....or looking back on it, like?

[caja-dglh]

Grandad

Ursus had asked for a West Germany football shirt, so he accepted the gift with a pinch of salt.

[ursus arctos]

Grandad

The cousin in question was actually living "in sin"* with a guy who played in the Regionaliga.

He brought one of these, which was ace



* as my aunts said

[Evariste Euler Gauss]

Grandad

It's the "finishing" that gets me. Like an elite Swiss school for society debutantes.

[Bored Of Education]

Grandad

treibeis wrote:

This is what you think of me?

I would never wear previously worn trainers.

I thought you lot never even wore most of the trainers you buy new.

You simply collect them, don't you? And then go to craft-beer boutiques and tell each other how many pairs you own?

I wear previously worn trainers.

[Bored Of Education]

Grandad

WOM wrote: Craft beers are so last October. Artisanal salt is where it's at, now.

I genuinely have some artisanal salt in the cupboard. Welsh sea salt with seaweed flakes. To be fair, it is here because the wife's shop didn't sell it. The idea that salt has a sell-by date is mildly ridiculous though.

[Amor de Cosmos]

Grandad

ursus arctos wrote:

When I was about 5, a cousin who was living in Germany brought me a box of nine different salts from a mine there. Each was a different colour. It was a really cool gift.

Are you sure they weren't different coloured sand? Very popular seaside gift back in the day, and at five you could easily be confused.