With all the news lately, blaring out from increasingly bigger & louder televisions, constantly reminding us of the war torn state of our planet, it got me thinking. When I was a young lad I spent a bit of time in the military, progressing on to the Special Forces before being eventually whisked off to MI6.
Well it was more of an,
“Oi Peeler pack your bags you orrible little turd - your off”!
A Kind of sideways down a few flights of dark stairs round a corner & under the bed kind of move really.
So there I was, ready to join the world of cloak & dagger. Utilising the dark secrets of espionage to save the world. The names Peeler, Granny Peeler. A definite ring to it I thought. All I had to do was await my posting, the exitement was immense.
“Switzerland Sir”?
“Switzerland Peeler".
“But the Swiss are nice sir. Everybody likes them. They have never cause any international strife sir”.
“Precisely”.
“But sir they never get involved in wars. Metaphorically speaking sir, they just hold the coats whilst everyone else fights it out. They sound jolly nice”.
“Peeler my boy, you just hit the nail on the head. Whilst every body else was watching the fight, Johnny Swiss was rifling through the pockets taking things out & what’s worse he was possibly putting things in. Smiling assassins Peeler the lot of em & they yodel”.
So there it was. I found myself spending several none descript years in Switzerland. I never did understand what my actual, bona fide, on the money job was. Lord knows I had plenty of time on my hands to think about it. Eventually I came to the conclusion that my commander was right & that the Swiss were in fact on the verge of world domination. Now the “how” that was tricky part. I thought & thought until it hit me. I had the answer.
Cheese!
The Swiss planned to utilise strange cheeses to take over the world. I mean think about it! In good old Blighty we make honest straightforward solid dependable cheeses, like Cheddar for example. The scheming Swiss on the other hand make cheese with holes in it.
Holes!
I mean it just stinks doesn’t it. We make a cheese & it is solid & square. A kind of what you see is what you get kind of cheese. But ‘them’ they make sneaky cheese. I’m not all that I appear to be cheese. I’m full of dodgy holes kind of cheese.
Whilst yodelling as well. Struth! Now that’s just wrong.
You see during my time in relative isolation due to the top secret sensitive nature of my posting…..high up in the Alps. On my own. With nothing but the constant ring a ding of the cow bells to keep me company. Constant, ding ding dong dong. Never ending, & the wind, the howling, the constant, howling howling. Erm! Anyway yes, holes.
Holes in good things are bad, but in bad things they are good. The Swiss make the cheese, yodel, make the cheese, then yodel some more. Then they export it. Holes you see, they put things in the holes & send the cheesy weapons all over the globe. A sleeping enemy. A pongy time bomb.
I mean they’ve even managed to get us to eat cheese & biscuits at the desert end of the meal. They’re obviously targeting our children by placing the cheese next to the ice cream…..oh the fiendish behaviour ……….
“What are you up to in there"? Calls a distant voice suddenly, interrupting my very important meeting on how to thwart the Great Swiss Cheese Invasion.
“Nothing dear, just cleaning the lawnmower” I hastily reply to Mrs Peeler as I am quickly dragged back into one of the many realities.
“Your breakfast is on the kitchen table” she yodels.
I quickly close the shed window & put my binoculars away. No sign of any enemy activity today anyway, the nation remains safe. I close the door behind & walk across the garden my attention drawn towards a very shifty foreign looking gnome. Now did he just move? On entering the kitchen I look at the plate on the table.
Cheese on toast.
My eyes roll. I dare not sigh. As my good lady turns to pour the tea I quickly pick up the toast and deftly lift a piece of cheese to look underneath. No holes, good.
“What are you doing”? Snaps the boss.
I nearly faint.
“Err nothing dear”.
Mrs Peeler (10) Switzerland (0)
Well it was more of an,
“Oi Peeler pack your bags you orrible little turd - your off”!
A Kind of sideways down a few flights of dark stairs round a corner & under the bed kind of move really.
So there I was, ready to join the world of cloak & dagger. Utilising the dark secrets of espionage to save the world. The names Peeler, Granny Peeler. A definite ring to it I thought. All I had to do was await my posting, the exitement was immense.
“Switzerland Sir”?
“Switzerland Peeler".
“But the Swiss are nice sir. Everybody likes them. They have never cause any international strife sir”.
“Precisely”.
“But sir they never get involved in wars. Metaphorically speaking sir, they just hold the coats whilst everyone else fights it out. They sound jolly nice”.
“Peeler my boy, you just hit the nail on the head. Whilst every body else was watching the fight, Johnny Swiss was rifling through the pockets taking things out & what’s worse he was possibly putting things in. Smiling assassins Peeler the lot of em & they yodel”.
So there it was. I found myself spending several none descript years in Switzerland. I never did understand what my actual, bona fide, on the money job was. Lord knows I had plenty of time on my hands to think about it. Eventually I came to the conclusion that my commander was right & that the Swiss were in fact on the verge of world domination. Now the “how” that was tricky part. I thought & thought until it hit me. I had the answer.
Cheese!
The Swiss planned to utilise strange cheeses to take over the world. I mean think about it! In good old Blighty we make honest straightforward solid dependable cheeses, like Cheddar for example. The scheming Swiss on the other hand make cheese with holes in it.
Holes!
I mean it just stinks doesn’t it. We make a cheese & it is solid & square. A kind of what you see is what you get kind of cheese. But ‘them’ they make sneaky cheese. I’m not all that I appear to be cheese. I’m full of dodgy holes kind of cheese.
Whilst yodelling as well. Struth! Now that’s just wrong.
You see during my time in relative isolation due to the top secret sensitive nature of my posting…..high up in the Alps. On my own. With nothing but the constant ring a ding of the cow bells to keep me company. Constant, ding ding dong dong. Never ending, & the wind, the howling, the constant, howling howling. Erm! Anyway yes, holes.
Holes in good things are bad, but in bad things they are good. The Swiss make the cheese, yodel, make the cheese, then yodel some more. Then they export it. Holes you see, they put things in the holes & send the cheesy weapons all over the globe. A sleeping enemy. A pongy time bomb.
I mean they’ve even managed to get us to eat cheese & biscuits at the desert end of the meal. They’re obviously targeting our children by placing the cheese next to the ice cream…..oh the fiendish behaviour ……….
“What are you up to in there"? Calls a distant voice suddenly, interrupting my very important meeting on how to thwart the Great Swiss Cheese Invasion.
“Nothing dear, just cleaning the lawnmower” I hastily reply to Mrs Peeler as I am quickly dragged back into one of the many realities.
“Your breakfast is on the kitchen table” she yodels.
I quickly close the shed window & put my binoculars away. No sign of any enemy activity today anyway, the nation remains safe. I close the door behind & walk across the garden my attention drawn towards a very shifty foreign looking gnome. Now did he just move? On entering the kitchen I look at the plate on the table.
Cheese on toast.
My eyes roll. I dare not sigh. As my good lady turns to pour the tea I quickly pick up the toast and deftly lift a piece of cheese to look underneath. No holes, good.
“What are you doing”? Snaps the boss.
I nearly faint.
“Err nothing dear”.
Mrs Peeler (10) Switzerland (0)
7 click here & leave a comment don't be sly:
I know a good story about cheese.
Geoff, my husband,told us a tale about a piece of Gordonzola cheese, he had when he was a child. His mother had put the cheese on the table before going to bed that night, in the morning it had moved to the other side of the table. All on it's own!
To this day geoff swears that is true, and that no-one had moved it!
Apparently, it has worm things in it and they had wriggled away all night.
Yuk!
Granny,
as a life long friend I am now getting worried about you.Mrs elton said you could be working to hard but apart from one afternoon for electric louie you have always been a little work shy.I didnt think it could get anymore out there than the supermarket but it has but again it is brilliant but truly "MAD".
FBEL
GMP - I don't believe a word of it. Special Forces my arse. You come across as a nice, upper-middle-aged country parson. (Not a mis-spelling!)
BUT, if tis true what you say, then I'm very glad that you didn't waste your time whilst in the Alps. Well spotted. An immediate OBE.
Another top tale.
You are off your box, not in THE BOX.
Oh, thats 5 not 6.
A wonderful tale sir! Life long friends may be worried about you but tell them 'Fear Not!' as I'm sure you're just as mad as you always have been!
Here's looking forward to another episode about your time in the special forces :-)
Nutter! Total Nutter... don't you dare stop.
Granny- re your post on mine.....
priceless fella.
sometimes, even blogging it, lets off the pressure. I know its my only release these days! Glad it helped. and thank you. I'm glad its not just me with these memories.
Post a Comment