LOCAL LINKS OF INTEREST

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Other sites of interest:

O/W Lifeguards

Herne Bay Club

Ancient Windsor

Royal Windsor Web Site

Old Windsor Parish Council

Old Windsor Rifle & Pistol Club

                                                                 

   Rogues Gallery

  

 

 

                          

"Varmer" Bob                  "One for the Road"         I don't mind if I do "ta"

A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and 
says: "A beer please, and how about one for the road." G.King circa 2003

 

                                

            Keith the ex Baker                                                         Sug (Shoog)

 

                        

 

A.N.Other

Kevin                            

                                         

          

               Dave                                                                                                 Ron (Mr Guinness)

 

                                    

                    Bill the Post (little boy blue)                                       

       

                   Peter's Sunday Lunch                                  Yours Truly

It is with great sadness that we have to announce that Jack passed away on Tuesday the 20th (on his 91st Birthday).

He was a great character and will sadly be missed by club members.

 

JACK

We’ve lost old Jack

He won’t be back

The Lord has called his number

Perhaps there was a leak “upstairs”

And He was looking for a plumber.

 

We’ll miss his tales of days gone by

Of experiences in the war

And though they were exciting

We’d   heard them all before

How he’d been shot at by the Bosch

Gosh that was a near number

Especially as our old Jack

Was just an English plumber.

 

So best of luck Jack Pembroke

And go and fix God’s plumbing

It must be getting damp up there,

 So He’ll be pleased to know you’re coming

 

It’s nice to know you’re wanted

Even when you’re dead

Just one word of warning tho’

Don’t pinch the Almightys' lead

 

The date is February 14th 2006 and Jack bought Sylvia a rose and a balloon  Ahhhhhh !!!!!!

LUCKY JACK

 

Lucky Jack

Big Jack he is a gamblin' man (he used to be a plumber),

With lots of work in winter and 'sod all' in the summer,

Our tale begins as Lucky Jack is on his way to ' Oz'

He's fed up with the UK and he's going there because,

 The Tories here get up his nose so he's off out there because he knows,

he cannot get the PM hung or Tebbitt on his bike.

 

So he's going out to Aussieland to organise a strike

Maggy Thatch' is out of reach because she's had the sack, "she should be drawn and quartered"

was the cry of Lucky Jack.

 

His hatred for authority was known both far and wide,"The cabinet is full of crooks and should be put inside."

He put them straight "Down Under", so they knew where he was from, he showed in no uncertain terms ,

he was no whinging Pom

He taught them crib and snooker (at which he was a crack) his prowess with the cue and ball

bought fame for Lucky Jack

 

His treatment of the snooker balls (he hits them like a rocket) the system is to bash 'em hard and visit every pocket

He taught them all he knew down there and left 'em wanting more,

but felt he had neglected us so made for Blighties shore.

"Welcome Home to Lucky Jack" was blazoned on the  banner ,

it also showed his coat of arms Crossed Ballcocks on a Spanner.

 

His entrance to the betting shop is met with apprehension

collecting pen and betting slip he magnifies the tension,

His anguished claim "The nags I choose all finish at the back"

But the bookie, he knows better that jammy Lucky Jack.

And if you ask about his luck and does it make him glad? He'll say in no uncertain terms

You must be B*****y mad.

 

He's red hot on the fruit machines and often takes the "Pot" but when asked how much he's won?

he answers "Not a Lot"

So whence the name of Jackpot comes is not difficult to crack

it comes from our old plumbing mate whose known as

LUCKY JACK

Lucky Jack

Lucky Jack is older now, he's greyer but he's wiser,

His get up and go: got up and went, so he's not an early riser

His plumbing days are over too, his ball cock's laid to rest,

His spanners lying in the shed wrapped in an oily vest.

They say old soldiers never die and plumbers are the same,

But here's a well known character and all will know his name,

You'll know him  by his Anzac hat as  often he is seen,

                        

Chatting up old lady friends down by the village green.

He's still around, enjoying life, despite the tales he tells,

 how the ruling class can kiss his ****,  how he'd hang them by the bells.

But though he's knocking on in years he  likes a game of cards.

For nothing pleases L. J. more, than winning from his pards

He likes his game of crib you see, and though he says he's poor

  if you can manage 17 he'll come up with twenty four.

Many have tried: many have failed to beat him at his game

but they always find the end result is more or less the same.

His fortune always favours him and he will never crack,

so that is why he has the name: they call him

LUCKY JACKTHE ART OF FALLING APART

There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by,
And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie.
My hair's getting thinner, my body is not;
The few teeth I have are beginning to rot.
I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel #5;
My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive.
When asked of my past, every detail I'll know,
But what was I doing 10 minutes ago?
Well, you get the idea, what more can I say?
I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day;
If my name's not there, I'll once again start -
Perfecting the art of falling apart.

 

 

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