The Missing Lard of the Lakes

Just got a call from some fisherman on the Manchester to Liverpool canal about a message found in a Tizer bottle.

Help anyone?

I was going to my first cross ferry gig, all dressed by my good lady in my best blue velveteen trimmed bell bottom with fetching pink highlights sailor’s outfit, my Mickey Mouse buttons on my jacket all polished and bright, my admiral’s pips on my natty sailor’s jacket, all trimmed in white satin and a really cute sailor’s cap worn at a very nautical jaunty angle.
After 2 hours of getting ready, we spent two more hours trying to get Tarn to join us in the car as she kept hiding and whimpering at missing me, though her fainting each time she saw me in my new clothes did have me wondering if I should have gone for the latex number.

After getting to the port and leaping upon the gang plank, my trusty two string guitar at the ready, a large thump was heard and i can not remember much, except a blurred vision of a large lorry of bacon butties being handed over to Tarn and my good lady holding a large bag full of cash before she disappeared on the arm of some yacht type he man.

I must say the accommodation is not what i was lead to believe, the rats take up all the room and a large pool of smelly water has me wondering if toilets are a shared point of discussion at some point. The rind of bread and I think very blue cheese are almost as bad as Steve Smith’s bacon butties.

After several days at sea, I was handed over to the shore party, no doubt to keep a cheerful song in their hearts, though I must admit, that I never thought the Isle of Man had such large and deep beaches or such clear sunny and hot, very hot sky.

The exercise tour is great though, I get to play in the sand all day, digging big holes, though miss Tarn as she would love this digging too. each time I ask when I get to perform, some large builder type shoves me back into the hole and hands me the shovel, it is nice my fans from my performing days at the ODG follow me on tour too.

My new friend Trevor, well I think that is what he say’s it is says next week, we will be rock climbing with pick axes in some local quarry, so much fun, but some locals seem to make light of my outfit, which I must admit is beginning to look like a day out with Smithy and mutter about white slave trade not being what it used to be.

Sending this via a local messenger called a camel, looks like one of the lake sheep and spits just as much, to say hi and can someone send my camera as have some great views of the local compound.

Apologies for the poor hand writing, but our nice tour guides insist on us wearing these local jewelery bracelets bound by some wonderful silver links, joining the two hands in harmony, according to Fred the chef.

Hope you are all having fun, getting a great sun tan Smithy

best regards

Lard of the Lakes

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