Reposted by Patrick Cullen
“The trouble with you, Spode, is that just because you have succeeded in inducing a handful of half-wits to disfigure the London scene by going about in black shorts, you think you’re someone. You hear them shouting “Heil, Spode!” and you imagine it is the Voice of the People.” Bertie Wooster
![Old Mrs Dundas - your great grand aunt - died at 106. She had two sons, Sonny and somebody else and they never got married and they lived with her. She got up ever morning and she made them dunner and kept house and the two boys were fond of going down to the pub in Derrygonnelly and she had a terrible job minding them. But anyway, one of them had a prostrate thing and was in the hospital. He was 81 and this aul bitch of a nurse - hated Catholics with a vengeance - was saying to me, since I was a social worker - "you'd need to speak with someone, had a drink last night, came in from Lisnaskea", almost as if since I was a Catholic, I'd be able. So she rang Sheila and Joe [my parents] asking them to bring in his clothes, and they went in and chatted with him and he seemed grand. But when they go to pick him up, the nurse says he's raving. Sheila says "he seems fine to me" and the woman scoffed - "we asked him who he was going home to and he said his mother" and Sheila said, "well actually he is" Now Sheila wouldn't think that was funny, she just said "yes he is going to his mother, it's quite true", and the mother died at age 106. There was a photograph of her in the paper. At 106!](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:lss244cnzeoicm3p3nrg5ovh/bafkreif4b6irssliyom26yxhnxpunpfw2ajtm5whyh5ml7ieypj5tci2vy)
