Magic Moments or Sentimental Old Fart

I hope the mods will indulge in this nom which is not exactly a cunting – almost the opposite – as I want to share a halcyon day in my life with my fellow ISACers. If not, then let me cunt myself for being a sentimental old fart. (Happy to oblige. Makes a nice change to be honest – admin)

Many years ago I lived in East Anglia and, despite being a Scot, I fell in love with the region, particularly Norfolk and Suffolk. In geographical terms, it was only an hour or so by train to Londonstan but remote and magical – in those days anyway.

I used to go walking and birdwatching in Breckland and the Fens. Late one cold, wintry – but dry – afternoon I came upon a canal with a barge moored on it. As I got closer, I saw a good looking lass on board.

There was no-one else around, just the occasional heron flapping across the fen or a hen harrier swooping low as it tried to flush out prey. A landscape and moment of priceless beauty. The girl and I got talking and she invited me on board for a coffee. We spent almost two hours chatting and she told me how she had ended up living alone in this bleak countryside.

For some idiotic reason – perhaps loyalty to my then girlfriend – I did not ask for her phone number and never saw her again. I now imagine her eternally floating around the fens, heartbroken that our two souls never entwined, and see her like the PreRaphaelite painting of Ophelia by Millais or The Lady of Shalott by Waterhouse.

I don´t know if barges have names like ships but “Halcyon” was written on the side. It was certainly a halcyon day for me, one I still remember over 30 years later.

Nominated by: Mr Polly

60 thoughts on “Magic Moments or Sentimental Old Fart

  1. Beckett: Krapp’s Last Tape

    I said again I thought it was hopeless and no good going on, and she agreed, without opening her eyes. (Pause.) I asked her to look at me and after a few moments–(pause)–after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in. (Pause.) We drifted in among the flags and stuck. The way they went down, sighing, before the stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.

  2. Life is about moments like that, but girlfriend or not….you should of nailed her….

    • Invited on board for a coffee. Christ on a BMX, Mr Polly. She was practically guiding your member into her gooey tunnel and you didn’t take the opportunity?

      A halcyon day maybe, but possible you are reminiscing over a missed opportunity? I know as I passed up similar opportunities in my younger years. I won’t go there.

      I’m not sure about a sentimental old fart – certainly a silly old fart for passing that one up.

      • A lass offering you to come to hers for a coffee has about the same ‘hint factor’ as her getting her pissflaps out and shouting ”These are soaking because you’re making my pussy wet.Fill it up with your cock!”

        Fuck, I’ve probably just committed a hate crime saying that.

    • You buggers should be writing for Mills & Boon. I have not read such sensitive, moving prose since Barbara Cartland.

    • Come on RT surely you’ve a story to tell? I’ll get you in the mood-

      🎶Magic, moments,
      When two hearts are carin’,
      Magic, moments,
      Memories we’ve been sharin’ . . .🎶

      • For Christmas 1958 I got a cheap drum. A nice drum with rubber skin. Doctored dish-mops for drumsticks.

      • I must have been pissed
        the night that we kissed
        the night of the stag do
        I sat on the bank
        she gave me a wank
        the night of the stag do

        Magic Moments

        That should induce the horn in RTC.

    • Christ, IsAC is morphing into the Steve Wright show!
      The next minute RTC will be on here with “a day in the life of a magic mushroom!”
      😀

  3. She must have been desperate to move to Norfolk its wank.
    Only good thing about it is it’s the birth place Lord Nelson, the greatest ever Englishman.
    I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder though, as JR C says you should have banged her.
    I would have, but then again I’m a cunt.

  4. Reminds me of Pamela from my class in secondary school. Was a shy lad when I was about 13 and she asked me out. Fittest girl in the school. The rest of the lads found out and started taking the piss, so I said no to her offer, out of embarrassment and trying to look cool.

    Within a year, once my hormones really kicked in, she was now even better looking and I was non stop thinking about tits and fannies 24/7. I asked her out now, thinking it was in the bag. She turned me down, of course.

    Saw her again when she was at the local university (I wasn’t at the uni). By then, she was probably the best looking lass I’d ever seen.

    Still to this day, I regret turning her down (and always think why did I bow to peer pressure/piss taking from a bunch of twats). I haven’t looked her up though, as she’ll probably be an old fat mess now. Best to keep that image of her I have in my head of when I last saw her in her early 20s. You could’ve cracked walnuts in those arse cheeks and balanced pints oh her tits without spilling any, such was their pertness. She looked a bit like a prime Natalie Portman, but with better titties.

    But I’m over it, as you can see 😀

    • Ahh! first loves!
      🎶
      Pamela, Pamela
      Remember the days
      Of inkwells and apples
      And books and school plays
      Where little Brer Rabbit kissed Pooh in the wood
      And Fluff was the cat that sat on the rug
      Oh, Pamela
      I remember so well
      When Laurel and Hardy were shown at the flicks
      With sticky red lollies on splintery sticks
      Pigtails and ribbons and crushes on miss
      Secret discussions about a first kiss
      But you were young
      And everything was new
      Impatient to do things you couldn’t do
      Oh, Pamela, Pamela
      You started to grow
      Answers to questions you wanted to know. 🎶

      • Sounds very John Betjeman. Towards the end of his life, suffering from Parkinson’s, he was interviewed on tv, dangerously close to the edge of a cliff for someone in a wheelchair, I thought. The interviewer asked him if he now had any regrets…
        “Yes” came the reply, barely hesitating, and with a twinkle in his eye “Never having had more sex.”

        I got the horn a lot in Norfolk.

  5. Don’t talk to me about romance.
    I remember banging some nurse from Leicester on the balcony of her first floor hotel room in Kos as the early morning bin men watched from across the street….

  6. Fucking Hell Mr P, you should have banged her doors to Suffolk and back you silly (non) fucker!

  7. I commend you for not exploring her further, you’d made a commitment and if your word is no good you’re no good!

  8. At least this way, you get to look back with fondness, dream what may have been…..
    ….and perchance, the occasional wank partake.
    😄

  9. Look at it this way. If you had stayed, and dropped the trousers, you could have been gently defiling this watery bint, really enjoying yourself. Then conk.

    You wake up hours later, tied up, and there’s several more canal tarts there. All looking a bit druidic, bit witchy, and one has a blade in her hand and starts mumbling something about sacrificing you to the elder gods of the fens.

    Always look on the bright side.

  10. She could have been a bit of a bunny boiling, keen to ensnare innocent young waives with her sexy allure – just like a black widow spider!

  11. Lovely story.

    Rather spoilt by some less than romantic comments!

    Dunno what wonderful part of the globe you live in cuntman of alcatraz but Norfolk remains relatively tranquil and I reside in the Breckland area which is beautiful.

    There is always one that got away and such experiences acquire a mystique that can’t be matched by reality.

    Dream on.

    • She probably had a male accomplice who was hiding and waiting for you to drop your kecks before running off with your wallet!
      What!! I could think of even worse endings!

    • I live in Yorkshire Lord Helpuss, so anywhere else I might go is a disappointment.

  12. Take no notice of some of the cynics on here Mr P. It’s a lovely bittersweet story to warm the cockels of jaded old hearts.

    And you never got in there? You daft cunt!

    • Good story Mr Polly!
      Shes now forever a great memory, more beautiful every year, like one of those birds from a cadburys flake advert.
      And I respect loyalty and not cheating on your bird.
      Besides you might of whipped her kecks of and found a big swollen nudger and dangling bollocks.
      Better as a whistful memory…

  13. Strangely enough,Mr. P…. Many years ago I lived in East Anglia and I fell in love with the region, particularly Norfolk and Suffolk. In geographical terms, it was only an hour or so by train to Londonstan but remote and magical – in those days anyway.

    I used to go walking and birdwatching in Breckland and the Fens. Late one cold, wintry – but dry – afternoon I came upon a canal with a barge moored on it. As I got closer, I saw a good looking lass on board.

    There was no-one else around, just the occasional heron flapping across the fen or a hen harrier swooping low as it tried to flush out prey. A landscape and moment of priceless beauty. The girl and I got talking and she invited me on board for a coffee. We spent almost two hours chatting and she told me how she had ended up living alone in this bleak countryside… eventually I had to tell her to shut her yapp,buckle up and brace herself…I was ready for action……

    As she squatted over my face I felt a few drop of moisture fall from her glistening pissflaps…”this tarts frothing already” I thought to myself “good,save me having to do any work”…suddenly the drops became a flood ..”what the fuck,you incontinent mare” I gurgled as the slack-clackered strumpet released a stream of piss all over my face….” I’m sorry” she said ” it’s all the coffee that I drank earlier with some waffling old Fart…kept wittering on about Lapwings and Wagtails…couldn’t shut the the bastard up until I told him it was a Pound for a gobble or two Pounds for straight…miserable old Jock told me that he never kept more than 10 New Pennies in his sporran and asked if that was enough to dip his Mars bar in my fanny-batter so I chased him”

    Anyhow, I didn’t let a gallon of steaming piss down my gullet deter me..if anything it added to my vigour,so all’s well that ends well,isn’t it ?

    • Well done DF, that’s just driven a tractor, coach and horses through Mr Pollys lovely memory, hilarious!!

    • I´m honored and flattered that one of ISAC´s most distinguished contributors was so inspired by my splashy fen memory that he embellished and beautified it in his inimitable style. From this moment on, the ethereal image of my Lady of Shallot shall forever be entwined with that of the Witchfinder General of North Humberland.

  14. Having just finished a few jobs around the house and had bit of playtime in the shed (I don’t need to go tot he shed but it gives me a sense of purpose).

    A coffee and a browse on ISAC, I thought I had clicked on Mills and Boon, Mr Polly after writing this shit and admitting to being Scottish and inviting cunters to cunt you…. Well you are a Cunt 😂😂😂

    Just watching last of the summer wine, not for any other reason than it is on the box, looking at the two coppers, nothing has changed in all these years.

    • Play time in the shed was it? That’s where you keep your stash, eh? Under the bags of compost with the spiders and critters so the Mrs won’t go near it, eh? All neatly folded and kept in plastic bags, eh? Nudge nudge wink wink say no more.

  15. I vote for it being a magic moment and sentimental to boot. It’s a sweet story and a gentle reminder of a simpler time. Do things like this still happen? I hope so.

    So I say thanks for sharing Mr Polly. Given your potential audience I’m sure you’re not the least surprised by some of the reactions and comments.

    Made a nice change from the awful things/people we banter about on a daily basis.

  16. Having read all of the comments regarding Mr Polly’s long lost love I am convinced that there is an especially warm part of Hell being prepared for the denizens of this site. I look forward to meeting you bastards in the fullness of time.

  17. I enjoyed reading your bit of nostalgia, Mr Polly. Your loyalty is first rate. I was a shy showoff in my younger days. I reckon there were a few conquest opportunities I never took up because I was too timid. One I still regret to this day is a bird who lived a few streets away named Janice. Perfect set of jugs, very pretty face, sweet character and dare I say totally up for it. I think most men really do not realise how often or how accessible all areas can be. In this respect we are thick as bricks.

    • When I look back and think of the chances I missed it makes me want to cry. Girls with boyfriends, married women, a willing girl with four protective older brothers. Safety first was my motto, and it may be why I’m still around and in one piece, but part of me wishes I’d just gone for it all. And I know which part that is.

  18. “I live in Yorkshire Lord Helpuss, so anywhere else I might go is a disappointment.”

    Fair enough C of A. God’s own country (don’t the Cornish also say that?).

    I spent some time around Harrogate and Otley, stunning scenery and friendly folk.

    Like it a lot.

  19. I remember my first kiss. I’ll never forgot. It was more like a snog.

    Blonde, come-to-bed eyes, wet nose.

    It was the dog.

      • Alright, alright, I admit to it but Percy was a consenting adult parrot at the time! 🦜 😅

        • Percy has had a cockatoo in his time, very modern parrot in these enlightened times Bertie.

          • Indeed LL.
            Percy has even appeared in a couple of porn films . . . . . . .
            Percy’s Semen Demon
            The Three Cockateers.

          • Yes his Clint Eastwood spoof character ‘Dirty Fanny’ series was well received but the following lawsuit did drag on a bit, Clint humiliated, a hollow victory.

  20. I had a similar experience with a Chinese woman at University. We broke up but she wanted to keep in touch. I wish I hadn’t been so immature and had married her, but deep down I feel it would not have worked. Looking at the re-emergence of the Red Menace in China I can understand why she wanted to leave. That and she was 25.

  21. I understand your feelings on this Mr polly. I often still think back thirty years to a blond called Jane. I kept meaning to ask her out, but never did. I still alway think of what might have been.

    Anyway it was nice to read a nomination which did not involve are current world problems. Oh mr polly could you fix me up with a scots woman?.

  22. I know what you mean too Mr P.
    Met a lovely girl at Uni more than thirty years ago, who got back in touch with me in 2015.
    It was like we’d never been apart.
    She died not long after.
    ‘What we mean, when we talk about love’.
    Indeed, life is a cunt.

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