It's that time of the year again when young NERDS' (is that possible?) thoughts turn to Irish nights in the arms of comely colleens and pints of black stout and irish jigs. We seem to have all booked the appropriate flight out to Dublin on the 23rd. Some with luggage some with just a napsack on a pole, in view of the Ryanair baggage restrictions. We'll probably all end up sharing each others underware - if we can find any that fits - but who cares? We are now waiting for one of us to gird up his credit card to organise the accommodation for us all; who will it be? Will any accommodation be arranged? Will we all end up sleepining under the halfpenny bridge?
Return later to this blog for the next installment. Meanwhile, the next ramble is 20th March for the next conflagration of the Sussex countryside.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
The cheap lunch ramble
NERDS Ramble No 221. Thurs. 7th Feb. 2008.
Those Present – Sandyballs, Froggy, B.T., Bronco and Lafayette, ( plus Andy Capp and Jules Capp).
The cheap lunch ramble.
Sandyballs had heard of a watering hole that did massive lunches at bugger all cost (well, actually about £10) so the Nerds all raided the wife’s milk money and turned up for coffee chez Sandyballs with about 9/4d between them. Never mind the lunch, Wot about the wip(s) we wondered . Never mind , we’ll all stay skinny cos we just won’t eat, as the song goes. But Nerds get hungry, so after going through Mrs Sandyballs’ wardrobes we sold all her jewellery quickly on e-bay and had enough for 5 caribbean cruises each and lunch for most of the Third World as well.
Then after mucho calvados et stuff we struggled up the Downs, admired the view, had attacks of altitude sickness and ran into some eccentric denizen of The Brewers called Jules. Mr. Biggest Brother Thomas (for twas he) had come out of his cave on the Downs where he alternates dwelling between there and the scummiest brothel in Hong Kong which happens to have Harveys on tap at the time. The call of The Wild had brought Jules forth to join the NERDS wolfpack in search of lunch, and so he was duly initiated, assimilated, and told to put his cap on straight (even NERDS have standards).
The weather was pleasant and sunny ( Luck of the NERDS again) so we roamed up and over the Downs trying not to spit at golfers or to talk about work (difficult). Jules kept us amused with profound discussions about the deprivations of Lent and the size of the tits on Chinese chicks, and those of us who’d never been abroad wondered if all foreign girls looked like they did on the Google porn sites. (They don’t.).
The route was a well worn track to Glynde to which we descended remembering the very first NERDS ramble about 20 years ago. At that time we had all been younger (geddaway!), and eager to start a groundbreaking new organization that would sweep away all the stuffy, bourgeois constrictions of the Dimaline era (at work). And so the NERDS were born to raise hell with the world and piss off everybody (a bit like the Rolling Stones, except they play more exciting music and probably don’t quarrel as much).
We crashed into The Trevor Arms where Bronco was waiting for us having galloped over on Crunchie from Ringmer that day. Crunchie was tethered outside eating all the non existent apples of the (now) non existent trees in The Trevor’s garden. Bronco was wrapped around a pint, as is his wont, and despite this hubbub of activity the pub still looked in good nick with beer to spare for us all. Big Pete, the landlord advised us not to go near the hot, chillee soup for lunch so we all ordered that to be iconoclastic. “You’ll regret it, “warned Big Pete “It’s got lots of hot stuff in it.” Are we not NERDS, we thought. “Actually I’ll have egg mayonnaise.” Said Bronco “on account of my bum’s sore from all that riding.” Jules doesn’t eat anyway so he started to give his slant to the locals about the charms of Chinese chicks.
At lunch we were joined by Jules’ baby brother, Andy, who had come fresh from making a couple of million in his lunch hour by selling sub prime hedge fund collaterals in the City (of Lewes). Many were his tales of high finance and legal shenanigans. Did you know, for example, that Nicholas van Hookstraaten was actually the illegitimate heir to the Dutch crown, or that Chinese girls are all built funny? Nor did I. Anyway several hours later, after a really big filling meal, easily up to the usual standard of The Trevor, we decided we’d better ramble home. This simple plan was however thwarted by Sandyballs insisting that he be allowed to use his brand new Old Age Pensioner’s Rail pass – just so that he could be as good as Lafayette who had already clocked up five thousand miles on his since last year.
Pity we weren’t allowed to walk any more, but to stop Sandy balls from sulking, we broke with tradition and took the train back to The Old Volunteer in the city of Lewes where we took over the (empty) pub and sat by the traditional gas fire. This was where Lafayette started drinking Mocha coffee in a desperate attempt to show that he too had been abroad as well as Sandyballs and had middle class pretensions and sensitivities.
Didn’t work, though. Does going to Dublin count as Abroad?
So another ramble completed on the path paved with good intentions. Thanks be to Sandyballs for selling his wife’s jewellery to enable us to eat, and to the Thomas Bros for being our guests. Jules is going to e-mail us some pictures of one or two of his friends in H.K. so that we can attach them to our Favourites and amuse ourselves of an afternoon. Can hardly wait!
Happy Chinese New Year and Feng Shui to you all,
Lafayette.
Photographs to follow
Those Present – Sandyballs, Froggy, B.T., Bronco and Lafayette, ( plus Andy Capp and Jules Capp).
The cheap lunch ramble.
Sandyballs had heard of a watering hole that did massive lunches at bugger all cost (well, actually about £10) so the Nerds all raided the wife’s milk money and turned up for coffee chez Sandyballs with about 9/4d between them. Never mind the lunch, Wot about the wip(s) we wondered . Never mind , we’ll all stay skinny cos we just won’t eat, as the song goes. But Nerds get hungry, so after going through Mrs Sandyballs’ wardrobes we sold all her jewellery quickly on e-bay and had enough for 5 caribbean cruises each and lunch for most of the Third World as well.
Then after mucho calvados et stuff we struggled up the Downs, admired the view, had attacks of altitude sickness and ran into some eccentric denizen of The Brewers called Jules. Mr. Biggest Brother Thomas (for twas he) had come out of his cave on the Downs where he alternates dwelling between there and the scummiest brothel in Hong Kong which happens to have Harveys on tap at the time. The call of The Wild had brought Jules forth to join the NERDS wolfpack in search of lunch, and so he was duly initiated, assimilated, and told to put his cap on straight (even NERDS have standards).
The weather was pleasant and sunny ( Luck of the NERDS again) so we roamed up and over the Downs trying not to spit at golfers or to talk about work (difficult). Jules kept us amused with profound discussions about the deprivations of Lent and the size of the tits on Chinese chicks, and those of us who’d never been abroad wondered if all foreign girls looked like they did on the Google porn sites. (They don’t.).
The route was a well worn track to Glynde to which we descended remembering the very first NERDS ramble about 20 years ago. At that time we had all been younger (geddaway!), and eager to start a groundbreaking new organization that would sweep away all the stuffy, bourgeois constrictions of the Dimaline era (at work). And so the NERDS were born to raise hell with the world and piss off everybody (a bit like the Rolling Stones, except they play more exciting music and probably don’t quarrel as much).
We crashed into The Trevor Arms where Bronco was waiting for us having galloped over on Crunchie from Ringmer that day. Crunchie was tethered outside eating all the non existent apples of the (now) non existent trees in The Trevor’s garden. Bronco was wrapped around a pint, as is his wont, and despite this hubbub of activity the pub still looked in good nick with beer to spare for us all. Big Pete, the landlord advised us not to go near the hot, chillee soup for lunch so we all ordered that to be iconoclastic. “You’ll regret it, “warned Big Pete “It’s got lots of hot stuff in it.” Are we not NERDS, we thought. “Actually I’ll have egg mayonnaise.” Said Bronco “on account of my bum’s sore from all that riding.” Jules doesn’t eat anyway so he started to give his slant to the locals about the charms of Chinese chicks.
At lunch we were joined by Jules’ baby brother, Andy, who had come fresh from making a couple of million in his lunch hour by selling sub prime hedge fund collaterals in the City (of Lewes). Many were his tales of high finance and legal shenanigans. Did you know, for example, that Nicholas van Hookstraaten was actually the illegitimate heir to the Dutch crown, or that Chinese girls are all built funny? Nor did I. Anyway several hours later, after a really big filling meal, easily up to the usual standard of The Trevor, we decided we’d better ramble home. This simple plan was however thwarted by Sandyballs insisting that he be allowed to use his brand new Old Age Pensioner’s Rail pass – just so that he could be as good as Lafayette who had already clocked up five thousand miles on his since last year.
Pity we weren’t allowed to walk any more, but to stop Sandy balls from sulking, we broke with tradition and took the train back to The Old Volunteer in the city of Lewes where we took over the (empty) pub and sat by the traditional gas fire. This was where Lafayette started drinking Mocha coffee in a desperate attempt to show that he too had been abroad as well as Sandyballs and had middle class pretensions and sensitivities.
Didn’t work, though. Does going to Dublin count as Abroad?
So another ramble completed on the path paved with good intentions. Thanks be to Sandyballs for selling his wife’s jewellery to enable us to eat, and to the Thomas Bros for being our guests. Jules is going to e-mail us some pictures of one or two of his friends in H.K. so that we can attach them to our Favourites and amuse ourselves of an afternoon. Can hardly wait!
Happy Chinese New Year and Feng Shui to you all,
Lafayette.
Photographs to follow
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)