On my travels today I pulled into a Southbound lay-by on the A36 just just off the A303, nothing exciting about that…
But what I discovered was evidence that one of our Northern brethren appears to have ventured South of Watford.
Again nothing really interesting in that, but I fear for this pasty white brother venturing into climes where ‘The Sun’ is something other than you read and line your pigeon coop with. This poor poverty stricken comrade has left himself unprepared for the southern climate, and with his probable comb-over, the potential of zebra styled sunburn to his bonce!
Yes you’ve guessed it folks, he’s lost his cloth cap!
Now as I wouldn’t be seen in a closed & buried wooden box with one, I can only image the distress and sun stoke this poor fellow must be suffering. And while I don’t give a rats proverbial’s about him, I fear that his whippet will not recognise him without it, and it’s the dog’s distress that concerns me. Sod the children! And then there are the much loved flying rats that the owner of this abomination more than likely repeatedly tries to dispose of by releasing them in various locations, only for them to always return. What if they finally get the message and bugger off, or even worse crash while blinded by the white shining beacon of the blokes bald spot?
So as you can see I’m finding this discovery rather upsetting and distressing, and really want to reunite this (soon to be) truck sponge with it’s owner! So if anyone knows someone who today (Friday 26/8/16) lost what is probably quite an expensive cap, give me a shout.
I’m not going to describe the cap, or state the size, as the GENUINE owner should be…
So don’t even go there you bunch of blaggers!
I’ll give you a clue though, it’s not dissimilar to these:
robroy:
Howey man, thes noot rang wi a flat cap pet.
Al hev it off ya, it’ll gan wi me bib an brace oweralls and me clogs.
Way aye.
Ach aye, see yon flat caps, thur pure braw so they ure.
Nae danger a gettin the sun oan ye an pure handy tae keep yer buckie in, no whit a mean
owan thither haun,then dont be gettin gallus wi me or itl be the jaggy bunnet yul be gittin.you might go out intaye glesga fir a laugh,but ony mair lip and yeel be wakin up in stitches jimmy. …diz yer maw sew…well get her to stitch this…jaggy bunnet ,wallop…
Hang on a cotton pick’n second here, as Evil is a self confessed southerner (not his fault), I just wanna check when he says cloth cap he means the type worn by, as Fredthered puts it, “Real Men” and not what them from the soft counties might think we mean.
Exibit A:
The Express claims this is a cloth cap and not what Evil posted above so there is a chance them da’n sarth could think the same.
Admittedly Evil has probably more chance of knowing the difference than many south of the gap (Watford not the shop!), but we need to make sure to avoid embarressment for one of TNUK’s most beloved posters.
And then there are the much loved flying rats that the owner of this abomination more than likely repeatedly tries to dispose of by releasing them in various locations, only for them to always return. What if they finally get the message and bugger off, or even worse crash while blinded by the white shining beacon of the blokes bald spot? 
