Confess - With Father Lloydie

[Moley]

A few years ago there was a very popular slot on a Radio Programme. People used to write in begging forgiveness for things thay had done in the past but had never admitted to. They wrote in and tha D.J. read out their misdeameanours. After a record was played, the D.J. decided whether or not they would be "Forgiven" or "Not"

Now that Lloydie has taken the "Vows" and is a "Fully Fledged" CATHOLIC PRIEST. (Complete with Oirish Accent) I was hoping that some of us "Sinners" could be "Forgiven" by Father Lloydie ?

O.K.
I'll go First :

[Moley]

FORGIVE ME FATHER FOR I HAVE SINNED !

The year was 1976 and the Summer was absolutely Glorious. Best Summer we ever had. I had just left College and was working in a Garage for the Summer holiday. My job was to de-grease the new cars and get them ready in "Showroom" condition. As the Summer wore on, it got hotter and hotter nd pretty soon there was a hose pipe ban on. People started to get worried bout water and even here in Wales, the reservoirs were "running dry"
Of course I had to stop washing the cars and the boss found me something else to do..."Sales"
"Yep - Moley was a "Car Salesman" and I was pretty good at it mind you. My job was to sell "Datsun" cars as they were known back then.
The Anglesey show was held in August on the Mona Showground. Thousands came every year and the "Boss" decided that the garage would have  a stall set up to boost sales.
Myself and the "real" salesman "Ronnie" were sent to put up the tent and make  display of brand new Datsun Pick up trucks.
Our pitch was to be in a corner of the showground next to the fence.
Whilst hammerring in one of the tent poles, I found it would'nt go in the ground, - no matter how hard I hit it with a sledgehammer. So I got a crowbar and started to pound that with a sledgehammer.
Ronnie said that I must have found a boulder and not to bother, we would "move the tent".
I said that I wasn't gonna move the tent as it was nearly up and boulder or no boulder the pole was going in. I resumed pounding the crowbar with the sledgehammer..
.. There was this "WHOOSH" and a fountain of water came up.
We moved the tent!
Pretty soon there was a lake forming in the corner of the field and the "Boss" arrived. He asked why we had moved the tent from the prime position, he had specially chosen. I pointed.. He asked me where all the water was coming from ?
I said I didn't know but that I thought he should tell an official.
He stormed off to complain.
Pretty soon it was getting serious. The Water Board arrived with two J.C.B's and dug a great hole.
Casually I strolled over and asked them what was going on.
They said that the water main supplying Llangefni had been ruptured and that the whole water supply to Llangefni had to be turned off while they fixed it.

So I would like to say "Sorry" to all those people who went without water, that Boiling hot day in the summer of 1976.

[Lloydie]

Father Lloydie writes:

Ah, BeJeysus moi son, sure an wasn't it the Divil in yer who was makin ye knock dat tent peg in?

You are
Forgiven

Go forth and sin no more  (or at least check with Dwr Cymru the next time the urge comes upon ye to bash a peg in da ground)

Father Lloydie

[KeithH]

Bless me Father Lloydie as I have sinned.  
Its like dis Fader.
I think it was in 1970 anyway,  I was a young bandsman stationed in Hong Kong.  At that time there was a lot of reorganization going on in the army and it had been deciced to disband a Gurkha regiment.  The day of the disbandment came and we were there all in our smart red uniforms. there was the obligatory last post and flag lowering etc, etc.  Anyway just before getting on the truck to head back to the barracks a gurkha came over and asked if I wanted a bottle of Gurkha rum. Now Fader Lloydie gurkha rum was highly regarded as a means of rapid inebriation and was much sought after therefore I naturally  answered to the affirmative and held the truck back until the gurkha soldier returned with the said very potent bottle of rum.

Now Fadder for some reason I thought the bottle was a gift, a sort of freternal offering of friendship from one soldier ov de Empire to anuder. I shook his hand said good luck and jamp onto the back of the truck, and the truck promptly pulled away.  The gurkha for some reason started  running after the truck waving and shouting and I waved and shouted back my thanks!  It was only when we got back to the barracks that some of the fellahs were calling me a tight b......... that I realized the poor fellah expected some money in exchange!  The gurkhas, you see fader were paid a great deal less than ourselves and any money I could have given him would have gone a long, long way back home in de mountains of Nepal!

I have felt guilty about dis for years Fader and  I can still see the little fellah running after the truck, waving and calling and myself giving the the thumbs up to him and pretending to drink from the bottle with a big smile on me face.
I wouldn't be suprised if the little fellah isn't a comandant with the Maoist rebels over there in Nepal, and all because I made off with his bottle of rum.

[Lloydie]

Father Lloydie writes:

Ahh moi son - the demon drink!!  'tis da rack an ruin of many a good man.  However, because of the international nature of dis one, Oi tink that it calls for a measure of penance so it does.

One loud Hail Mary

Father Lloydie


PS  Mary is the name of the wee slip of a girl at the Antelope - after ye have hailed her ye can buy me a point of the dark stuff an yer forgivness will be complete

PPS Sister Bridget is after askin where she moight find a drop of dis "Gurka Rum" stuff

[Huw]

This thread scares me greatly ... Where do I start ?!!

[Lloydie]

The multiple-sinner Pioden wrote:

This thread scares me greatly ... Where do I start ?!!  

Father Lloydie writes:

Ah, worry not moi son, I have a team of Bishops coming over from the Auld Country to help me out when ye start the confessions  

Father Lloydie

[Mole Bach]

Forgive me father for I have sinned,

It was back when I was an apprentice engineer for a local firm and we had to change a central heating boiler in a house.  The boiler was behind the fire place, and when we arrived the lady of the house made sure that we had ALL the downstairs carpets covered with dust sheets since there would no dubt be soot everywhare.

Well, one pice of VITAL equipment that we had was an industrial hoover (to suck up water and soot), and I made sure that this was opperational, and we soon got to work in removing the old boiler (no, not the lady of the house).

Now, IF I was the owner of something valuable and workmen came to my house, I would have removed it prior to them arriving, however, this lady did'nt, and left her husbands ashes on the mantlepiece, without telling us what was in this jar (I thought that it was an ornament), until she left for the morning, (her words were "my husband will look after you"?????????)

As luck would have it, the jar containing the ashes was made of very strong stuff, and it bounced, unfortunately though, the lid was not that secure, and the contents sort of spilled into the soot..............with the hoover on...................

After a fit of giggles (well ROTFLMHO), we decided to sort of replace the ashes with the contents of this hoover, who incidently had just come back from another job, and had'nt been emptied yet.  However, the dillema that we had was how much ashes were there? was this lady's husband big?

Anyway we sort of guessed and replaced the contents with what we had in the hoover, taking solice in the fact that we must have scooped a little bit of him back into the jar.

I wonder father Lloydie, if this lady (who incidently did'nt make us a cup of tea) ever wondered why her husband had put on weight, and had got a nice tan, and if her husband minded being carted arround to other jobs until finally being laid to rest in the sea when we emptied the contents into Victoria Dock.

This may be one of MANY posts father, which I hope will not influence your judgement on this one.

Thank You

[Lloydie]

Father Lloydie writes:

Now moi son, be not troubled by your actions, for is it not said "Ashes to ashes - dust to dust"  and sure were ye not just taking the holy message a little too literal?

Now, de problem I have is whether Oi can foind it in meself to forgive a "dark lord of the Sith"  Oi'll have to be having a tink about this one.

In de meantime, for dis particular sin, Oi tinks dat it cannot be let go without the suffering of pain.  Oi therefore order ye to thrash yer knuckles off sometink hard and dense.

Brother Azzy step forward

Father Lloydie

[Azzy_Stealth]

Ai Father Lloydie

If ye call, I shall answer. I would tend ta agre wit da Father. This confession is a serious matter. It is not only a mattr of forgivenes but one of sorro an undestandin.

I believe that severl of the yonger in our order should undertake da ritual cleasing of the EVIL and TWISTEDones soul.

Brothers' Bruizer and Tommy.


Peace Out
Brother Azzy  

[Moley]

Azzy - Have you been drinking ? ? ?

[dogberry]

forgive me father for I have sinned......

It was several years ago whilst young in service and supervised by a wicked scotsman who sense of humour was dispicable......unfortunately some of the tricks he played on people were wickedly funny...i decided that one night whilst the driver of the riot bus i would park out of view waiting for a local idiot to wander past on his way home........I say wander but the poor lad was confined to a wheelchair but honestly he was a terrible lad and caused a lot of problems in the town and was often arrested for his behaviour and language......
the night before he took me far enough with his behaviour to wind me up but not far enough to warrant arrest.......i waited and waited and he eventually appeared........I undone the screw top to the bottom of the torch which allows access to the batteries, now the body of the torch is made of metal and by undoing and closing the screw top it made a sort of squeeking noise..............as the lad went past I pressed the tannoy button on the bus and squeeked the torch in a timely fashion and I could see the lad looking down at his wheels....he stopped and started..I squeeked....he moved faster and I squeeked faster .....the frustration on his face was hilarious....he got out of his wheelchair and was able to support himself and he moved it back and forth the squeeking started and then stopped....satisfied that the problem was solved he got back in the seat and moved off.....the squeeking started  again.....unfortunately he went out of site and he must have wondered what had gone on...

a few days later I was again on nights and I was on foot patrol in the town ....he appeared and he gave me his usual direspectful glare as he passed.........well I couldn't resist....I only did it a couple of times and his mysterious squeek was back.....I couldn't contain myself, laughed and wandered off........there  were a few other occasions when this squeek reappeared which was causing him obvious distress if only he'd had looked to the shadows.................

i reflect on what I did and dont feel proud of myself.......father, What should I do?..

[Lloydie]

Father Lloydie writes:

Oh Dogberry moi son!  I am shocked to me very depths of me soul, so I am!
I was a big big fan of that "Ironside" fellow, a foine fellow an a fearsome lawyer he was too, now how der ye tink he would have got on in der courtroom had some nefarious fellow come up wuth dat sort of trick!!

Oi tink dat ye should find yer man and say to him: "Oi've brought ye sometink fer dat nasty squeak yer bin hearing a while now"  Ye should den take out one of dose oil cans wit der long spout an, as his eyes light up wit the gratitude, take yer torch out wit yer udder hand and procede ta oil der screw cap.

Only then will you be
Forgiven

Father Lloydie

[Mole Bach]

Forgive me father for I have sinned.

It has been one day since my last confession.

This little incident happened whilst I was an engineer working on a building site, and please take into account that I had the interest of the whole industry at heart.

Every morning I would arrive on the site and start the generator, then the bricklayers and plasterers would arrive and start the dumper and cement mixers up; there would be friendly banter and we would start work.

Now, every morning, the lady who lived opposite would come out and start shouting saying that it was too early for all the noise, and would we switch off the machines until 9:30.

This was OK for a day or so, but in the end she got on my nerves (to put it nicely), so I decided that what she needed was something to do.

Now, I’m not the type of person that would actually do something REALLY nasty, so I came up with a plan.

I mixed up some pink-thistle (the pink plaster that you have on the wall) and put it in a plastic bag, I then made a little hole at the bottom and used it like a baker uses that thing to pipe icing on a cake, and made a little twirly thing that looked like what a dog would leave on the floor, now, just before it set, I dipped it in some Febmix (it’s a plastisicer for bonding plaster), to give it a glaze, and left it to set.

The following morning, when we arrived on site, I took the little object and placed it on her door step, sure enough, when the machines started, she opened up the door, but the first thing she saw was this turd.  She then quickly disappeared back in the house only to return a few minutes latter with some paper and a bucket of steaming hot water.  She then spent a good half hour cleaning the doorstep and door, and then disappeared back in.

The whole site was watching this, and when she disappeared, there was a roar of laughter that drowned the noise of the machines.

Now, when I had made the first one, I had a lot of pink in the bag, and I sort of made more than one…three weeks worth in fact, so every morning for the next three weeks, guess what happened.

I often wonder if the lady of the house ever though why the dog mess only appeared Monday to Friday, and that it suddenly stopped when the Plumbers had finished?

Father Lloydie, could you please find it in your heart to forgive me for the pain and suffering that I caused this lady.

[Lloydie]

Father Lloydie writes:

BeJeysus, Mary & Joseph - yer a divil fer der confessional so ye are.  That Brudder Azzy said to me "Yer man Mole Bach is a fearful sinner, so he is"  But I heeded him not, not even when he said "I'll have to beat the devil out of that Mole Bach"

Well, Oi can see tings wit a bit o' wisdom, so Oi can.  Oi can see dat ye were only following the bible so ye were. And Oi am impressed so Oi am, as ter ye knowledge of der book of "Revelations" in fact Oi tink it was der turd book of revelations you've takin dis from - doh agin Oi'm tinkin dat ye've taken it a wee bit too literal again.  Sure an wern't ye just distractin der lady from gittin upset at der noise of der machinery?  And givin her sometink ter do dat she loiked? ie cleanin and washin stuff.  Wholesome activities Oi can heartily recommend to ALL our lady viewers.  Stops ye gettin the heat of der blood an tinkin about udder things dan gittin yer man's meal on der table.  Ah, but Oi digress into dis week's sermon Oi'm currently wroitin.

Anyways, I can see dat ye had der woman's best interests at heart.  Oi'll be recommendin ye fer a community action award, so Oi will.

Forgiven


Father Lloydie

PS how's ye gittin on wit the last pennace Oi gave ye?  Ye understand dat der longer ye don't carry it out, der more punishmint Oi'll have to ask ye ter do?