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I know it's no consolation to you in your hour of need, but Louise isn't a Masochist. A Bootneck is by definition a Masochist. A Physio on the other hand, (and I always like mine that way), is a Sadist. Incidentally responding to her enquiries as to your ability to perform a task with a gruff "Wot d'yer friggin' think" will not endear you to her.
Your medical records show that your weekly decompacting is due and will be performed by Trevor; newly arrived from Sydney, Australia. He left after working for QANTAS for many years as a Trolley Dolly (Tamara), but now feels more comfortable in his new 'life designation' and clothes. We at the centre would appreciate a follow up report on his appearance and conduct. (Police witness statements will be acceptable)

God help the bloody world, ifen he ever gets a boat.

Mary Celestye say no more.................

Never, ever, go on the bloody canals Mr Parry!

Aye steve evans

T'were the Kennet and Avon that did for me don't yer see........

Well lads; do you remember back in the mists of time and the rain of despondency, whilst on those command courses at Lympstone? There was a little something known as 'Concurrent Activity'. Well during the dark hours between interrogations by Cornwall's finest, while awaiting the assigned solicitor, and shivering quietly in my new white jump suit, I came up with a Bramah of an idea.
Concurrent Gynaecology
Yes, I cried as I attempted to punch the air within the confines of the padded cell, and restrictions of the buckled and belted canvas jacket they wanted me to wear.
To business; upon my release for lack of evidence, they can't find the video or stills, I returned home. I immediately contacted a few of my little friends. 'Magnificent Moira' reflexologist to the bars; 'Mangle', village Blacksmith and arm wrestler par excellence, and 'Hook', by reputation, but not qualification, a dentist. (He's the one who tried to repair Gallaghers mouth in Hamburg)
The idea is that we can save a fortune on accommodation, heating and drainage, if we all work together. Not just in the same garage space, but at the same time; Concurrent Activity at it's finest. I see the obvious question in your eyes. There is an even greater saving to be made, there will be no further need for anaesthetic. While Moira does the feet, relaxing the poor pre-traumatised soul into ecstacy, or any other class A drug, Mangle and I can manouevre our cutting gear and wrenches, while Hook places his mole wrench on her bottom lip.
Of course there is a small downside, none of us wants to work with 'Clipper', his style of hedge cutting is not in great demand and his idea of Topiarising while I operate does not seem Kosher.
I'll report back, as soon as Mad Madge, our first guest/victim has been carried out by her bereaved, sorry I mean relieved family.

He's getting worse, starting to suffer delusions of ability

Barry
The Guy is Brilliant, brilliant but insane

As I said before the worrying thing is I'm begining to understand him

On Rob's recent trip to France i bet he now has the two elderly ladies locked away up in that loft of his.

When we returned we had two, now however there's only one; she keeps drooling over a floral printed wrapover dress, a pair of peep toe sandals, and what looks like a West Highland terrier but may be the rug from the older of the two.

Dont suppose theres any chance of injecting some sanity(from you Harry? Surely not)
I actually know what Parry has in his loft.
Too ashamed to tell, I m afraid.
Have you noticed that he looks like Marty Feldman?
Dont suppose you know the height of optimism?
Didnt think so.
Its an English batsman walking out to the crease wearing zinc oxide sun creme on his nose
Nursey keeps her equipment(ahem...), in the bunker. There in lies a tale of debauchery so heinous that I pissed off to Aussie land to escape from her evil clutches. How that poor man suffers.
Naw, serves the bastard right Chutney Ferrets, don`t`cha just lov`em?

Aye`ll have what she`s having

Maybe the 5's and 2's are missing from the deck?

He's a happy little soul, come on humour the bugger everybody.

I go to France 2 times a year for MONEY, nought else.

Aye steve evans

Surely monsieur you mean Monet? Claude Monet, ze very famoos paintair of dodgy pantings. I zink yoo no wot ah meen liebschun? damn, slipped into ze Bosche speek again, for zat you vill do 2 hours in chains Parry. Oh why thank you Count.

I notice how brave you have become,now that you are the other side of the world,Hackdoff,you would never dare slag of darling Nursey if you were within her reach,she would have you for breakfast.Loz is also gunning for you, after the things you told Rob about Hoppy and his guide dog,I advise you never to come back to this septic isle.

Aye Owdun.

I bet there's a sodding great paddle from a Gemini mounted on your lounge wall above the fireplace, behind a glass case. Printed on the front is the following:
"In case of quiet times break glass and stir shit"

Gemini? In Owduns day they used Longboats
Hoist yer topgallants Mr Christian. Hoist yer topgallants.

And what`s with the formality, Frank? Time was, you used to call me " oi, you"
Nursey and I were on very good terms, by the way. Till I asked if she had a sister called Cinderella, that is. She was in such a rage that she couldn`t manage to get the Walther P38 out of her tights, which gave me just enough time to claim it was Parry throwing his voice, so he got"extra duties" that evening

One day I'll catch that bloody Walter Mitty in her tights, then I'll give him the tenner I scrounged in that pub in Hereford in '72, when I wanted to go and watch, 'Enchanting Lorraine' and her mud wrestling go-go girls. By god they had some nasty marks on their bodies. No teeth, but fascinating marks.