Didn`t Jimmy Tarbuck sell his Rolls after someone shouted " It`s alright for you, golden balls" from the pavement in Liverpool?
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Of course, all they shout at me, from the pavement in Leeds is "Chin up Lad - ere, catch thee a bit of tripe"
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Didn`t Jimmy Tarbuck sell his Rolls after someone shouted " It`s alright for you golden balls" from the pavement in Liverpool?
More than a decade ago I met a couple in their 60s who'd fallen on hard times when their very successful business had gone badly splot. I rather liked the way that they weren't moaning at all about it, and described the bankruptcy as being entirely their own fault: at a busy time they had neglected to do the usual due diligence on the creditworthiness of their biggest and most reliable client when taking another big order, whose sudden collapse took them down too. Their main regret was the loss of the twenty well-paid jobs the business had provided for skilled craftsmen, who they feared would never get such good work again.
They gave me a lift afterwards in their old banger, and in the course of the conversation it came out that when the business went so did the old Rolls. The woman appeared to be very twinset-and-pearls sort of posh, so I thought that must have suited her well, so I asked how she liked the banger.
"Much more comfortable," she said, "Because I can sit on a seat".
She had been so embarrassed bv hubby's Rolls that she used to sit on the floor in case anyone saw her.
Edited by NowWheels on 26/09/2009 at 09:59
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