…/Dons PPE* – The Packer Punch

*For Roob Noobs, PPE is Personal Protective Equipment. It’s also Purple People Eater, my first bona fide sync. This week, PPE also stands for Panama Papers Exposé… sum thing we’ve been discussing in comments on MEROVEE
Merovee Loves the Bum
CLICKY: Simply Clicky Piccy to go there

*Thank you, Click. Have some sardines*


Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!**)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)

One day I was thinking about all the tales that I had heard about the family and I thought It would be a good idea if I tried to write some of it down for you so that you could get some kind of an idea where you come from, and what kind of madness infects you.

I don’t pretend that this is a family tree –  I have done no research whatsoever but purely remembrances and quips.

Where do I start?

I will start with the Algers and will probably still be writing about them by next year.

Your Great Grandmother was Mary Margaret Arnell and she lived at Dockhead.

She had several brothers and sisters and I really did not know any of them except Old Aunt Anne. When I have given you an overview of the Alger set up, I will devote some space to her because her story involves SEX and I know that’s what you are really interested in.

Your Great Grandfather was Alfred Alger who also had lots of brothers and sisters and I didn’t know any of them with any certainty. But I do remember going to see some of his relations somewhere round the back of Surrey Docks; I can’t remember who they were.

Grandfather Alger (or Poppy as we kids all called him) was very tall and very handsome, and having seen his wedding pictures I can tell you he was, so I suppose he was quite a catch. His mother had a kind of a gin shop up the back of Paradise Street and his father was dock worker which is how he got to be working in the docks because in those days you had to have a ticket to work in the docks, and in order to get one you had to have a family member to speak for you.

The union was very strong so people said that if you were a docker you had a job for life, so I suppose it was not so different to nowadays – we all think we have a job for life until new technology comes along and scuppers us. It’s who you know not what you know. Look at me for instance, sitting here in Bung Hockley writing on a Word processor, retired and all that, but I digress.

I suspect that there will be a lot of that going on.

**’Gawd ‘Elp Us!’ is Uncle Dickie’s go to catchphrase. He employs it whether imparted news is good or bad. His other catchphrase ‘Go on my son!’ was developed on Saturday afternoons when he would pop round to watch the racing with Dad and Nan. It involved a lot of energetic pouffe bouncing and hitting his thigh with a rolled up newspaper. Win or lose, every race ended with an exclamation of  ‘Gawd ‘Elp Us!’


*Selfie time, Clicky! …/poses*

Roobee on Pan and Echo

PPE Gun laughs on dissolves
CLICKY:  Sigmund, you’re gonna laugh son

Echo was a nymph who was a great singer and dancer and scorned the love of any man. This angered Pan, a lecherous god, and he instructed his followers to kill her. Echo was torn to pieces and spread all over earth. The goddess of the earth, Gaia, received the pieces of Echo, whose voice remains repeating the last words of others. In some versions, Echo and Pan had two children: Iambe and Iynx.

*Oh, and one of the pair of us…*

Roob and Click She shells sea cells on the shill shore
CLICKY: Another head rolls…

*…and shots fired…*

ZH Shots Fired
CLICKY: Just as you said.

*Irony, Click… Hey, that reminds me, Legs Posted ‘Passive Eating‘… It’s a thing now …/titters… and so is Passive Porking… Enough!*

*Aww… Ta Clicky… /blushes… Have a Song!*