Saturday, December 24, 2011
Further Christmas Ramble notes
Frog says,
Yeah! But I don't care, I'm taking 2 of my alter egos (flip flops) to keep my pinkies warm on those flagstones and to keep my sox piss-free. I have also thought about plastic bags for that taxi drive home and have 4 separate sets, 2 from Tesco, 1 from Sainsbury's and one mystery set. Bring on the mud!
ps drat oh double drat I've lost my "A Nerd is not just for Christmas" badge, but I will be sporting another famous one.............
Yeah! But I don't care, I'm taking 2 of my alter egos (flip flops) to keep my pinkies warm on those flagstones and to keep my sox piss-free. I have also thought about plastic bags for that taxi drive home and have 4 separate sets, 2 from Tesco, 1 from Sainsbury's and one mystery set. Bring on the mud!
ps drat oh double drat I've lost my "A Nerd is not just for Christmas" badge, but I will be sporting another famous one.............
Christmas Ramble Joining Instructions
Subj: Tomorrow's Xmas Ramble
Looks like we might get away with some dryish weather tomorrow - but the going wil be soft! See you all at Vics on Lewes station.
SB
Looks like we might get away with some dryish weather tomorrow - but the going wil be soft! See you all at Vics on Lewes station.
SB
Friday, December 23, 2011
NERDS’ Ramble No. 264 - 22/11/11.
Those Present - Froggy, Lafayette, Sandyballs, El Paco.
The “Philby’s Birthday” Ramble.
Today was the anniversary of Philby’s birthday (who? You may ask…..well he was Belgian or something and would have been 60 if he had still been alive. - Poor Philby, cut down in his prime before being allowed to retire.) Anyway we all thought that this occasion at least was worth a drink…and since it was rambling day….
Froggy was in his last week of freedom during which he was under sentence of death for sporting a haircut like that of a hedgehog. The sentence was due to be carried out at Brighton Hospital next week, and the NERDS were all keen to know what he wanted put on his gravestone and whether he wanted to be planted next to said Philby in Seaford cemetery. ( Shame Froggy wouldn’t be able to retire and get his pension either, especially after all the fuss he had been making about this recently.)
But enough of Froggy, our thoughts were on Philby that day and what a fantastic, responsible, reliable team player he had always been who literally had to be forced by the NERDS to take any form of drink, such was his sober, upright, Calvinistic, protestant upbringing. Many suspected that he might actually be gay since you never actually caught him talking to, or even looking at girls. He seemed to be only interested in that boring sideline of his, that of running a little bodega or grocer’s shop somewhere, although the premises seemed to be some sort of secret and moved around a lot.
However to the ramble. It was a dull, shite type of day with rain threatening and the NERDS got on the train to Berwick after the compulsory second breakfast at Vick’s (as was) at Lewes station.
Berwick happened to be next to the Berwick Arms by good fortune so we piled in there and had a couple of pints while oggling Miss Milf who served the beer. Pity Philby was almost certainly gay otherwise he might have fallen in love with her like Froggy did; but anyway he would have been too shy to even look at her (you remember how he was with girls). She was indeed something - but enough of this NERDish lust and back to the ramble.
Destination today was chez Pete at the Yew Tree at Arlington.
To do this, and to get there before all the Old Trouts in Sussex, we had to circumvent the reservoir so we went the short way round, ie. the right hand side, and were disturbed to notice that the reservoir was really low in water. Hope they’d have enough to enable the local breweries to continue to function.
We went over the river on the rickety rackety bridge where B.T. used to dance on the railing (but survived) and then into Arlington itself. True to form, Pete’s car park was full of cars - always a bad sign (for us), and when we got in there the place was crowded with nice old people. We fought our way to a table and were greeted by Pete in his usual bonhomious way; he still thinks we are something to do with Customs and Excise (as if..)
But at least he doesn’t poison our meals.
You can see why the Yew Tree was so popular. First of all the decorations were stunning, it had three Christmas trees, it had tables full of miniature snowmen and lots of tinsel and stuff hanging from the ceiling. Added to which the meals, of course, had huge helpings and were really yummy. To celebrate Philby’s birthday we all had a mega dessert of Belgian icecream covered with the contents of a miniature bottle of Baileys. Philby would have been proud of us (if he hadn’t been so gay - and dead) but at least we thought about him (a bit).
Lunch over we returned over the rickety, rackety bridge but saw no trolls or B.T.s (surprise, surprise) then back round the reservoir where we were pursued by a sea monster and latterly by vampires - it getting on for dusk an’all. Amazing the restorative power of a few drinks!
So we took refuge from all these strange apparitions in the Berwick Arms once again where Froggy regaled us with tales of how he used to frolic around with his playmates in the sandpit of the Tuileries gardens in Paris (bet he was a psammead - go google it!). We humoured him and plied him with more drink since he hadn’t got long to live anyhow, and we all promised to read his book when he was dead and look after his widow well and drink all his drink stores etc, so he felt better after that.
And so the end to another ramble in which we comforted Froggy and remembered Philby. Next month is the Christmas ramble when we can remember both Froggy and Philby, and think about Bronco and perhaps B.T. ( are you coming over for this, B.T.?)
So best of luck with your execution on the 1st, Froggo. Can I have your stamp collection, please?
Love to all.
Lafayette.
Those Present - Froggy, Lafayette, Sandyballs, El Paco.
The “Philby’s Birthday” Ramble.
Today was the anniversary of Philby’s birthday (who? You may ask…..well he was Belgian or something and would have been 60 if he had still been alive. - Poor Philby, cut down in his prime before being allowed to retire.) Anyway we all thought that this occasion at least was worth a drink…and since it was rambling day….
Froggy was in his last week of freedom during which he was under sentence of death for sporting a haircut like that of a hedgehog. The sentence was due to be carried out at Brighton Hospital next week, and the NERDS were all keen to know what he wanted put on his gravestone and whether he wanted to be planted next to said Philby in Seaford cemetery. ( Shame Froggy wouldn’t be able to retire and get his pension either, especially after all the fuss he had been making about this recently.)
But enough of Froggy, our thoughts were on Philby that day and what a fantastic, responsible, reliable team player he had always been who literally had to be forced by the NERDS to take any form of drink, such was his sober, upright, Calvinistic, protestant upbringing. Many suspected that he might actually be gay since you never actually caught him talking to, or even looking at girls. He seemed to be only interested in that boring sideline of his, that of running a little bodega or grocer’s shop somewhere, although the premises seemed to be some sort of secret and moved around a lot.
However to the ramble. It was a dull, shite type of day with rain threatening and the NERDS got on the train to Berwick after the compulsory second breakfast at Vick’s (as was) at Lewes station.
Berwick happened to be next to the Berwick Arms by good fortune so we piled in there and had a couple of pints while oggling Miss Milf who served the beer. Pity Philby was almost certainly gay otherwise he might have fallen in love with her like Froggy did; but anyway he would have been too shy to even look at her (you remember how he was with girls). She was indeed something - but enough of this NERDish lust and back to the ramble.
Destination today was chez Pete at the Yew Tree at Arlington.
To do this, and to get there before all the Old Trouts in Sussex, we had to circumvent the reservoir so we went the short way round, ie. the right hand side, and were disturbed to notice that the reservoir was really low in water. Hope they’d have enough to enable the local breweries to continue to function.
We went over the river on the rickety rackety bridge where B.T. used to dance on the railing (but survived) and then into Arlington itself. True to form, Pete’s car park was full of cars - always a bad sign (for us), and when we got in there the place was crowded with nice old people. We fought our way to a table and were greeted by Pete in his usual bonhomious way; he still thinks we are something to do with Customs and Excise (as if..)
But at least he doesn’t poison our meals.
You can see why the Yew Tree was so popular. First of all the decorations were stunning, it had three Christmas trees, it had tables full of miniature snowmen and lots of tinsel and stuff hanging from the ceiling. Added to which the meals, of course, had huge helpings and were really yummy. To celebrate Philby’s birthday we all had a mega dessert of Belgian icecream covered with the contents of a miniature bottle of Baileys. Philby would have been proud of us (if he hadn’t been so gay - and dead) but at least we thought about him (a bit).
Lunch over we returned over the rickety, rackety bridge but saw no trolls or B.T.s (surprise, surprise) then back round the reservoir where we were pursued by a sea monster and latterly by vampires - it getting on for dusk an’all. Amazing the restorative power of a few drinks!
So we took refuge from all these strange apparitions in the Berwick Arms once again where Froggy regaled us with tales of how he used to frolic around with his playmates in the sandpit of the Tuileries gardens in Paris (bet he was a psammead - go google it!). We humoured him and plied him with more drink since he hadn’t got long to live anyhow, and we all promised to read his book when he was dead and look after his widow well and drink all his drink stores etc, so he felt better after that.
And so the end to another ramble in which we comforted Froggy and remembered Philby. Next month is the Christmas ramble when we can remember both Froggy and Philby, and think about Bronco and perhaps B.T. ( are you coming over for this, B.T.?)
So best of luck with your execution on the 1st, Froggo. Can I have your stamp collection, please?
Love to all.
Lafayette.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
NERDS’ RAMBLES Nos 262 & 263.
26th Sept. and 17th Oct. 2011.
The First One - The alleged 4 pubs Ramble.
Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs and Paco (a bit later)
This was Froggy’s idea. “ Let’s do a ramble which takes in four pubs and ends up with lunch - Nothing can possibly go wrong”
Lafayette laughed himself sick at this brave optimism but as ever was keen for new experiences so went along with the scheme.
The NERDS (well, 3 of them - Laf, Frog and SB) all met in Vic’s for breakfast cognacs. Sandyballs had decided that since he could no longer call himself a Catholic he would have no guilt about doing this - the other 2 just didn’t give a shit and wanted a drink. El Paco was remarkable by his loud absence, but by now we were used to his little pecadillos so weren’t overworried. News reached us that Bronco, being as skillful at driving as he was on a horse, had rolled his Land Rover in Glynde and walked unhurt from the flaming wreckage (should have auditioned for Spooks). Apparently he had gone straight round the garage to buy a new Ferrari so that he could mop up the bastards who had dared to walk in front of him the first time.
Anyway The NERDS got the train to Berwick and were just piling into the handily placed Berwick Arms for a post breakfast and pre ramble drink, when another maniac in a car screeched to a halt alongside them. El Paco had apparently overslept (Well, damn my eyes!) but hadn’t wanted to miss all the fun.
The landlord of the pub had apparently been unable to unload many of his free Sailor Jerry CDs on to his regular customers (see last month’s ramble) because the music was so bad so we took a few away with us to use as bookmarks and drinks coasters.
The weather was sort of dull but OK with a bit of drizzle. The NERDS set off for pub No 2. The Cricketers at er… well you know the one, it’s on the other side of that nasty main road where everyone (except Lafayette who is a brilliant sprinter with shit-hot reactions ) gets squashed trying to cross.
Several squashed NERDS later we found ourselves inside said pub where Paco disgraced everyone by asking for a glass of milk. (Nerves shot to hell by trying to cross the road, apparently)
This had to be downed quickly and we were allowed only a brief goggle at the nymphet barmaids `cos we had to be on, on to the next pub.
Along the old coaching route we went fearing to meet Bronco playing at being Dick Turpin in a red Ferrari or else attempting to mow us down under the hooves of his beloved Crunchy.
On, on went the NERDS heading towards pub No. 3, The Rose Cottage where on previous occasions a talking parrot had served the drinks and where Lafayette had made friends with a black pussy (don’t ask).
Unfortunately time seemed to be running out ( too much boozing) and lunch was in danger of being retarded by potential Old Trouts. So an executive decision was made to swerve Rose Cottage and make it The ‘3 Pub’ Ramble instead, and head for The Barley Mow which was still on the right side of that nasty main road.
At just about this time Sandyballs got a text from someone he called ‘The Bitch’ but who was in fact none other than The Bish to say that he had become a grandfather (again). Well, we’d have to drink to that wouldn’t we? Yet another ugly little face appears in the world to possibly join the Flintoff generation of baby NERDS.
So to the Barley Mow we tramped. That is all except Sandyballs who had “mislaid” his very expensive Primark jacket with the Tiffany cufflinks and had wandered off in a fruitless search for these baubles. On returning (fruitlessly) to the pub Sandyballs found Lafayette three parts of the way through a large bag of porky scratchings because he was unable to wait for his dinner to be cooked.
The Barley Mow must have changed hands since the very ordinary Christmas dinner suffered there by the NERDS the year before last. The food was dead good with a lot of variety and El paco ordered a bottle of posh Merlot to celebrate the arrival of Ugly Young Bish into the world. Froggy told us of his guilty secret of watching ‘Internet Ladies without Clothes’ on his computer (Well, there’s a surprise!) we all thought he was going to divulge a passion for killing a lot of Jews in the war . Never mind, Froggo, your secret is safe with the NERDS - it will never get revealed.
Outside the weather had turned nice and sunny and autumny. The NERDS squashed their way over the main road (all except Lafayette, of course) and proceeded through dappled fields back to The Berwick Arms.There, after a few drinks SB took the train back chez lui and the remaining three chased a butterfly round the decking outside to allay Lafayette’s fear of nasty, fluttery things. (It had been that sort of ramble).
Next Ramble, No. 263. - The Posh Village Ramble.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Paco (at the beginning , would you believe,) and Lafayette
Sandyballs was going to try a new ramble today instead of re-cycling all the old ones; The NERDS were all terrified of this radical approach to their drinking and feared getting massively disorientated; however things do not always go to plan.
The omens were not very good. Froggy had received intelligence that the pub the NERDS were due to lunch at at Ansty had closed down. Time for a recce in Sandyballs’ car to establish the truth. On arrival at the pub Lafayette crept up to the front window and peered in. Not only was there no beer, no landlord, no food, there was not even a scrap of furniture; the bailiffs had obviously stripped the joint. Time for Plan B.
Not only did our lunch plans seem foiled, but concern had been expressed over the whereabouts of BT who had disappeared to China a couple of months previously and not been heard of since. Was he languishing in a Chinese jail for trying to pass off his wife as an official interpreter? Or had he simply absconded to Libya lured by the thought of the easy money to be made there in the post revolutionary mess? Even as Lafayette penned these fantasies the truth remained obscure.
Any road up, Sandy balls drove us to Cuckfield while Paco and Froggy debated between themselves whose wife had been the worse cook. Were fishcakes badly cooked worse than lentil bake a la Bresilienne? Lafayette wisely remained silent at this point; he knew that Mrs Lafayette sometimes got up late in the night to read his outpourings of genius on the computer, and he didn’t want to get caught out.
Arriving at Cuckfield, a rather pretty Sussex village obviously full of rampant Telegraph readers and no Pikies, SB went off to purchase a disc to enable himself to park (complicated huh?).
Meanwhile the other NERDS found themselves being drawn towards The Talbot in Cuckfield High Street where all the other customers were sitting aroung reading the Telegraph ( This isn’t actually the real reason; they could smell the beer). Anyway this place had a lot to recommend it. For a start it opened at 10.00hrs
(always a good point) and then it sold local beer, had a massive bonsai tree in the outside bit, a friendly barman of the commoner sort, and a menu that looked rather promising (although a bit pricey).
So all tooled up with drink, the NERDS lounged around on the comfy armchairs and attempted to guide Froggy through sponsoring the passport application of one of Paco’s (many) grandchildren. After a few drinks even Paco couldn’t remember which grandchild it was or even what nationality it was supposed to be that week. Was it a proper grandchild or had it come in in the back of a lorry? Oh sod it ; let’s have lunch.
Sandyballs was twitching a bit now and making noises about doing some rambling, but he was overruled because the menu looked good, the waitress was beckoning and we all wanted another drink. Well, wow! What a lunch! Lafayette had the lovely linguini and mushrooms and truffles and drizzled nectar and stuff and went into ecstatic overdrive. All agreed whatever they had had was super duper so we went overboard and had some orgasmic icecream for dessert ( at least, Lafayette did). This was definitely a “NERDS approved” establishment.
By this time Sandyballs had gone from exuding petulance to being downright bad tempered. “We have come here to walk.” he raved. “ Fuck off.” the rest of us said , wondering which brandy to choose. (Paco favoured the Carlos Primero, but I digress). So to maintain a semblance of being a walking group (lol) we reluctantly tore ourselves away from this gastronomic paradise and wandered out into the wilderness of West Sussex.
The weather had got better, and was nice and autumny ; like coppery leaves and mellow bollocks and stuff. We blindly followed Sandyballs’ promptings and went down some path or other (which was actually very pleasant) in the direction of “Ansty Without the Pub” and ended up (surprise, surprise) in the Talbot at Cookfield for double brandies. Sandyballs had had his honour satisfied and his Catholic guilt assuaged and the rest of the NERDS had got back to where they wanted to be.
Froggy declared his eternal ambition to bring Mike Clarke and Matthew together in a civil ceremony with the NERDS dressed in little frocks as bridesmaids ( I may have got this a bit wrong ; the notes by this time were a little unclear there being brandy all over the embark cards. - Laf.) so we called it a day in the Talbot and Sandyballs drove us all back to the Gardeners in Lewes where we resumed our deliberations about er… whatever it was.
It had been a good “ramble” because we had walked a bit, found a new mega fantastic pub and discovered another chocolate box Sussex village that we hadn’t actually been thrown out of. So thanks to Sandyballs for routing and driving; to Froggy for being funny (in a nice way) and to Paco for turning up at the beginning. You’re getting better, you’ll just have to practise more!
There you go, you NERDS; two write ups for the price of one.
Now wasn’t that worth waiting for?
Lafayette.
26th Sept. and 17th Oct. 2011.
The First One - The alleged 4 pubs Ramble.
Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs and Paco (a bit later)
This was Froggy’s idea. “ Let’s do a ramble which takes in four pubs and ends up with lunch - Nothing can possibly go wrong”
Lafayette laughed himself sick at this brave optimism but as ever was keen for new experiences so went along with the scheme.
The NERDS (well, 3 of them - Laf, Frog and SB) all met in Vic’s for breakfast cognacs. Sandyballs had decided that since he could no longer call himself a Catholic he would have no guilt about doing this - the other 2 just didn’t give a shit and wanted a drink. El Paco was remarkable by his loud absence, but by now we were used to his little pecadillos so weren’t overworried. News reached us that Bronco, being as skillful at driving as he was on a horse, had rolled his Land Rover in Glynde and walked unhurt from the flaming wreckage (should have auditioned for Spooks). Apparently he had gone straight round the garage to buy a new Ferrari so that he could mop up the bastards who had dared to walk in front of him the first time.
Anyway The NERDS got the train to Berwick and were just piling into the handily placed Berwick Arms for a post breakfast and pre ramble drink, when another maniac in a car screeched to a halt alongside them. El Paco had apparently overslept (Well, damn my eyes!) but hadn’t wanted to miss all the fun.
The landlord of the pub had apparently been unable to unload many of his free Sailor Jerry CDs on to his regular customers (see last month’s ramble) because the music was so bad so we took a few away with us to use as bookmarks and drinks coasters.
The weather was sort of dull but OK with a bit of drizzle. The NERDS set off for pub No 2. The Cricketers at er… well you know the one, it’s on the other side of that nasty main road where everyone (except Lafayette who is a brilliant sprinter with shit-hot reactions ) gets squashed trying to cross.
Several squashed NERDS later we found ourselves inside said pub where Paco disgraced everyone by asking for a glass of milk. (Nerves shot to hell by trying to cross the road, apparently)
This had to be downed quickly and we were allowed only a brief goggle at the nymphet barmaids `cos we had to be on, on to the next pub.
Along the old coaching route we went fearing to meet Bronco playing at being Dick Turpin in a red Ferrari or else attempting to mow us down under the hooves of his beloved Crunchy.
On, on went the NERDS heading towards pub No. 3, The Rose Cottage where on previous occasions a talking parrot had served the drinks and where Lafayette had made friends with a black pussy (don’t ask).
Unfortunately time seemed to be running out ( too much boozing) and lunch was in danger of being retarded by potential Old Trouts. So an executive decision was made to swerve Rose Cottage and make it The ‘3 Pub’ Ramble instead, and head for The Barley Mow which was still on the right side of that nasty main road.
At just about this time Sandyballs got a text from someone he called ‘The Bitch’ but who was in fact none other than The Bish to say that he had become a grandfather (again). Well, we’d have to drink to that wouldn’t we? Yet another ugly little face appears in the world to possibly join the Flintoff generation of baby NERDS.
So to the Barley Mow we tramped. That is all except Sandyballs who had “mislaid” his very expensive Primark jacket with the Tiffany cufflinks and had wandered off in a fruitless search for these baubles. On returning (fruitlessly) to the pub Sandyballs found Lafayette three parts of the way through a large bag of porky scratchings because he was unable to wait for his dinner to be cooked.
The Barley Mow must have changed hands since the very ordinary Christmas dinner suffered there by the NERDS the year before last. The food was dead good with a lot of variety and El paco ordered a bottle of posh Merlot to celebrate the arrival of Ugly Young Bish into the world. Froggy told us of his guilty secret of watching ‘Internet Ladies without Clothes’ on his computer (Well, there’s a surprise!) we all thought he was going to divulge a passion for killing a lot of Jews in the war . Never mind, Froggo, your secret is safe with the NERDS - it will never get revealed.
Outside the weather had turned nice and sunny and autumny. The NERDS squashed their way over the main road (all except Lafayette, of course) and proceeded through dappled fields back to The Berwick Arms.There, after a few drinks SB took the train back chez lui and the remaining three chased a butterfly round the decking outside to allay Lafayette’s fear of nasty, fluttery things. (It had been that sort of ramble).
Next Ramble, No. 263. - The Posh Village Ramble.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Paco (at the beginning , would you believe,) and Lafayette
Sandyballs was going to try a new ramble today instead of re-cycling all the old ones; The NERDS were all terrified of this radical approach to their drinking and feared getting massively disorientated; however things do not always go to plan.
The omens were not very good. Froggy had received intelligence that the pub the NERDS were due to lunch at at Ansty had closed down. Time for a recce in Sandyballs’ car to establish the truth. On arrival at the pub Lafayette crept up to the front window and peered in. Not only was there no beer, no landlord, no food, there was not even a scrap of furniture; the bailiffs had obviously stripped the joint. Time for Plan B.
Not only did our lunch plans seem foiled, but concern had been expressed over the whereabouts of BT who had disappeared to China a couple of months previously and not been heard of since. Was he languishing in a Chinese jail for trying to pass off his wife as an official interpreter? Or had he simply absconded to Libya lured by the thought of the easy money to be made there in the post revolutionary mess? Even as Lafayette penned these fantasies the truth remained obscure.
Any road up, Sandy balls drove us to Cuckfield while Paco and Froggy debated between themselves whose wife had been the worse cook. Were fishcakes badly cooked worse than lentil bake a la Bresilienne? Lafayette wisely remained silent at this point; he knew that Mrs Lafayette sometimes got up late in the night to read his outpourings of genius on the computer, and he didn’t want to get caught out.
Arriving at Cuckfield, a rather pretty Sussex village obviously full of rampant Telegraph readers and no Pikies, SB went off to purchase a disc to enable himself to park (complicated huh?).
Meanwhile the other NERDS found themselves being drawn towards The Talbot in Cuckfield High Street where all the other customers were sitting aroung reading the Telegraph ( This isn’t actually the real reason; they could smell the beer). Anyway this place had a lot to recommend it. For a start it opened at 10.00hrs
(always a good point) and then it sold local beer, had a massive bonsai tree in the outside bit, a friendly barman of the commoner sort, and a menu that looked rather promising (although a bit pricey).
So all tooled up with drink, the NERDS lounged around on the comfy armchairs and attempted to guide Froggy through sponsoring the passport application of one of Paco’s (many) grandchildren. After a few drinks even Paco couldn’t remember which grandchild it was or even what nationality it was supposed to be that week. Was it a proper grandchild or had it come in in the back of a lorry? Oh sod it ; let’s have lunch.
Sandyballs was twitching a bit now and making noises about doing some rambling, but he was overruled because the menu looked good, the waitress was beckoning and we all wanted another drink. Well, wow! What a lunch! Lafayette had the lovely linguini and mushrooms and truffles and drizzled nectar and stuff and went into ecstatic overdrive. All agreed whatever they had had was super duper so we went overboard and had some orgasmic icecream for dessert ( at least, Lafayette did). This was definitely a “NERDS approved” establishment.
By this time Sandyballs had gone from exuding petulance to being downright bad tempered. “We have come here to walk.” he raved. “ Fuck off.” the rest of us said , wondering which brandy to choose. (Paco favoured the Carlos Primero, but I digress). So to maintain a semblance of being a walking group (lol) we reluctantly tore ourselves away from this gastronomic paradise and wandered out into the wilderness of West Sussex.
The weather had got better, and was nice and autumny ; like coppery leaves and mellow bollocks and stuff. We blindly followed Sandyballs’ promptings and went down some path or other (which was actually very pleasant) in the direction of “Ansty Without the Pub” and ended up (surprise, surprise) in the Talbot at Cookfield for double brandies. Sandyballs had had his honour satisfied and his Catholic guilt assuaged and the rest of the NERDS had got back to where they wanted to be.
Froggy declared his eternal ambition to bring Mike Clarke and Matthew together in a civil ceremony with the NERDS dressed in little frocks as bridesmaids ( I may have got this a bit wrong ; the notes by this time were a little unclear there being brandy all over the embark cards. - Laf.) so we called it a day in the Talbot and Sandyballs drove us all back to the Gardeners in Lewes where we resumed our deliberations about er… whatever it was.
It had been a good “ramble” because we had walked a bit, found a new mega fantastic pub and discovered another chocolate box Sussex village that we hadn’t actually been thrown out of. So thanks to Sandyballs for routing and driving; to Froggy for being funny (in a nice way) and to Paco for turning up at the beginning. You’re getting better, you’ll just have to practise more!
There you go, you NERDS; two write ups for the price of one.
Now wasn’t that worth waiting for?
Lafayette.
THE NERDS’ Ramble No. 261. 22/8/11.
Those Present - Froggy, Matt, Sandyballs, Lafayette.
Special Guests - Bronco, Dumpling.
The post Wedding Ramble.
The NERDS were all recovering from the wedding of the year which had taken place a couple days before. This, of course, was the fantastic celebrations following the marriage of jeune Sandyballs, ( also known at the age of 6 as The Baby Hippy on account of her (then) tatty hair and general scruffy appearance)
And Warwick, son of Manneville, bachelor of the parish of Lewes.
The celebrations had gone on all evening; the NERDS had been wowed by the generosity of the hosts ( Mr and Mrs Sandyballs) who, in addition to laying on mountains of food and huge quantities if drink, had imported a lot of young chicas in very short frocks simply to entertain the NERDS by dancing before them in a provocative manner. Everyone had had a really good time, especially Sandyballs who had been seen bouncing off the walls of the venue and disappearing into the Gents. Lafayette had pointed him in the right direction, as usual, and then retired to the bar to threaten his own daughter with disinheritance if she ever started demanding a wedding on such a scale for herself one day. (After all, Lafayette is just a poor pensioner ).
So the NERDS were all basking in that warm, rosy afterglow which comes from eating and drinking too much ( not that this happens much, lol) when they woke up to the fact that it was time for the next ramble. Firstly, all round to chez Sandyballs for a breakfast of wedding cake and er..cognac (well they do go rather well together!). Froggy wasn’t sure about all this rich diet and accused Sandyballs of trying to block his fatty heart with excess confectionery. “Murderer,” he screamed, “ Just because I’m the only one still at work, you’re trying to kill me off because you’re jealous!” Sandy balls privately admitted to himself that he really was missing being at work but said there was so much cake left over that he thought he’d just foist it off on the NERDS before it got stale. Lafayette wondered what the interesting wooden bit he’d chewed on in the middle of his cake was but Sandyballs said it was just a bit of fertility tree that had fallen into the mixing bowl and was actually a sign that Lafayette’s manhood would increase in size the older he got (fancy that!).
Since Froggy felt too weak to walk over the hills to Glynde, S.B. decided to take us all to the Anchor at Ringmer where Bronco might be hanging out. The NERDS made sure the bottle of brandy was dead and then set off. The day was dull and rain threatened; however the route was pleasantly flat so that anyone even with the slightest trace of heart disease could be expected to cope. We passed witchy looking women from the woods near Lewes and old hippy type men with beards and sandals. All you get in Newhaven are sailors from the ships and Turks out of the back of lorries, so a pleasant change for Lafayette.
At The Anchor we sat on the comfy sofas to await Bronco who probably hadn’t got up yet. To while away the time Dumpling D. told us stories of how he’d had to face hordes of fuzzy-wuzzies besieging the Embassy when he’d been posted to Lagos. Apparently they’d wanted to pay back the tax their dependants had fiddled when going to the UK but Dumpling had bravely mown them down with machine gun fire for the filthy liars he knew them to be. No sense in paying back tax when none was needed, he reasoned.
Bronco turned up looking a bit pale; he’d been trying to get over the last occasion when SB and Laf. had lured him down The Anchor and filled him full of gin. All his other (octagenarian) mates from the pub welcomed him back and he proceeded to order a large steak which put a bit of colour back in his cheeks. Bronco told Sandyballs he couldn’t wait to get back to work because he was missing Shirley Wirley being nice to him. Sandyballs burst into tears and vowed to revise a lot and do team working from home just to catch up with all the other lucky workers.
The food wasn’t bad and Lafayette had Eggs Florentine to show how sophisticated he was; Matt had lots of apple crumble to show what a pleb he was. Matt said when he retired he was going to buy an ice cream van and deal drugs to school kids because this was the way forward ( Graham Boiling quote) Dumpling said he’d have to pay tax even on immoral earnings but Matt thought he’d be OK if he sold a bit of icecream as well.
Dumpling thought he ought to invoke The Human Rights Act (Article 6 - the right to make a lot of money) but Matt thought this was vulgar as he’d never been interested in having a lot of money anyway; he just wanted to be of some use to humanity and he was going to leave all his money to that famous society in Seaford, the C***s, anyway.
The conversation turned to those who had “ladies who do” to clean their houses and those who didn’t. Bronco said Froggy had been such a good friend to him that he was going to send his own cleaner round to his house specially so that she could clean the cobwebs off his willy. Froggy started getting worried about the effect this might have on his dicky (geddit?) heart, but Bronco assured him that his cleaner’s tickling stick was really quite remarkable and would only give him mild palpitations.
The NERDS then said goodbye to Bronco who was going home to ensure there was enough mess in his house to justify the cleaner returning. After that we got the bus outside The Anchor to Lewes to save Froggy having to strain his heart any more by needing to ramble ( Aren’t we all considerate?), and ended up in The Gardeners where Lafayette had his tea consisting of cider and porky scratchings.
It had been a slightly unusual ramble since the original route had been cancelled for health reasons. However, thanks to Sandyballs and Mrs Sandyballs for all the cake and stuff and it had been nice to see Dumpling and Bronco again.
Dates of the next rambles are as follows just in case everyone gets drunk and forgets what we decided on:
September - Monday 26th
October - Friday 21st
November - Tuesday 22nd
December - Wednesday 14th
Bye for now.
Lafayette.
Those Present - Froggy, Matt, Sandyballs, Lafayette.
Special Guests - Bronco, Dumpling.
The post Wedding Ramble.
The NERDS were all recovering from the wedding of the year which had taken place a couple days before. This, of course, was the fantastic celebrations following the marriage of jeune Sandyballs, ( also known at the age of 6 as The Baby Hippy on account of her (then) tatty hair and general scruffy appearance)
And Warwick, son of Manneville, bachelor of the parish of Lewes.
The celebrations had gone on all evening; the NERDS had been wowed by the generosity of the hosts ( Mr and Mrs Sandyballs) who, in addition to laying on mountains of food and huge quantities if drink, had imported a lot of young chicas in very short frocks simply to entertain the NERDS by dancing before them in a provocative manner. Everyone had had a really good time, especially Sandyballs who had been seen bouncing off the walls of the venue and disappearing into the Gents. Lafayette had pointed him in the right direction, as usual, and then retired to the bar to threaten his own daughter with disinheritance if she ever started demanding a wedding on such a scale for herself one day. (After all, Lafayette is just a poor pensioner ).
So the NERDS were all basking in that warm, rosy afterglow which comes from eating and drinking too much ( not that this happens much, lol) when they woke up to the fact that it was time for the next ramble. Firstly, all round to chez Sandyballs for a breakfast of wedding cake and er..cognac (well they do go rather well together!). Froggy wasn’t sure about all this rich diet and accused Sandyballs of trying to block his fatty heart with excess confectionery. “Murderer,” he screamed, “ Just because I’m the only one still at work, you’re trying to kill me off because you’re jealous!” Sandy balls privately admitted to himself that he really was missing being at work but said there was so much cake left over that he thought he’d just foist it off on the NERDS before it got stale. Lafayette wondered what the interesting wooden bit he’d chewed on in the middle of his cake was but Sandyballs said it was just a bit of fertility tree that had fallen into the mixing bowl and was actually a sign that Lafayette’s manhood would increase in size the older he got (fancy that!).
Since Froggy felt too weak to walk over the hills to Glynde, S.B. decided to take us all to the Anchor at Ringmer where Bronco might be hanging out. The NERDS made sure the bottle of brandy was dead and then set off. The day was dull and rain threatened; however the route was pleasantly flat so that anyone even with the slightest trace of heart disease could be expected to cope. We passed witchy looking women from the woods near Lewes and old hippy type men with beards and sandals. All you get in Newhaven are sailors from the ships and Turks out of the back of lorries, so a pleasant change for Lafayette.
At The Anchor we sat on the comfy sofas to await Bronco who probably hadn’t got up yet. To while away the time Dumpling D. told us stories of how he’d had to face hordes of fuzzy-wuzzies besieging the Embassy when he’d been posted to Lagos. Apparently they’d wanted to pay back the tax their dependants had fiddled when going to the UK but Dumpling had bravely mown them down with machine gun fire for the filthy liars he knew them to be. No sense in paying back tax when none was needed, he reasoned.
Bronco turned up looking a bit pale; he’d been trying to get over the last occasion when SB and Laf. had lured him down The Anchor and filled him full of gin. All his other (octagenarian) mates from the pub welcomed him back and he proceeded to order a large steak which put a bit of colour back in his cheeks. Bronco told Sandyballs he couldn’t wait to get back to work because he was missing Shirley Wirley being nice to him. Sandyballs burst into tears and vowed to revise a lot and do team working from home just to catch up with all the other lucky workers.
The food wasn’t bad and Lafayette had Eggs Florentine to show how sophisticated he was; Matt had lots of apple crumble to show what a pleb he was. Matt said when he retired he was going to buy an ice cream van and deal drugs to school kids because this was the way forward ( Graham Boiling quote) Dumpling said he’d have to pay tax even on immoral earnings but Matt thought he’d be OK if he sold a bit of icecream as well.
Dumpling thought he ought to invoke The Human Rights Act (Article 6 - the right to make a lot of money) but Matt thought this was vulgar as he’d never been interested in having a lot of money anyway; he just wanted to be of some use to humanity and he was going to leave all his money to that famous society in Seaford, the C***s, anyway.
The conversation turned to those who had “ladies who do” to clean their houses and those who didn’t. Bronco said Froggy had been such a good friend to him that he was going to send his own cleaner round to his house specially so that she could clean the cobwebs off his willy. Froggy started getting worried about the effect this might have on his dicky (geddit?) heart, but Bronco assured him that his cleaner’s tickling stick was really quite remarkable and would only give him mild palpitations.
The NERDS then said goodbye to Bronco who was going home to ensure there was enough mess in his house to justify the cleaner returning. After that we got the bus outside The Anchor to Lewes to save Froggy having to strain his heart any more by needing to ramble ( Aren’t we all considerate?), and ended up in The Gardeners where Lafayette had his tea consisting of cider and porky scratchings.
It had been a slightly unusual ramble since the original route had been cancelled for health reasons. However, thanks to Sandyballs and Mrs Sandyballs for all the cake and stuff and it had been nice to see Dumpling and Bronco again.
Dates of the next rambles are as follows just in case everyone gets drunk and forgets what we decided on:
September - Monday 26th
October - Friday 21st
November - Tuesday 22nd
December - Wednesday 14th
Bye for now.
Lafayette.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
NERDS’ RAMBLE No. 260 - Wed. 20th August 2011.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Lafayette, Matt, The Bish,
The Not So Mystery Guest - Shirley Wirley.
The “ Beauty and the 5 Beasts” Ramble.
Well, you know what they say, the older you get the more you lust after young women. That’s why up to now Rule No 2 (or is it 2a?) was “No women on NERDS’ rambles! This was because they might want to talk to us, flirt with us, seduce us, marry us, interfere in our lives and actually think they were good enough to take over NERDS’ rambles. No, we couldn’t have that at all, I mean what would our wives say?
But today was to be an exception because Shirley Wirley wouldn’t do any of the above nasty things to us - she’d got more sense! Besides which, we’d got Matt with us to warn us of the dangers of hellfire if we got unclean thoughts (especially about women), and The Bish who was ugly enough to frighten off any women and Lafayette and Froggy who loved each other to bits (see photo of Lafayette’s clumsy attempts at foreplay in the station shelter at Normans Bay. Sorry Brian, you’ve been away so long that there’s a new catamite on the block.)
The weather did not look promising. It was dull and shitey looking, hardly the sort of day to get entangled with the opposite sex, - or any sex for that matter. Most NERDS met on the train from Seaford where the Bish popped up again to swell our ranks. Long time no see. Had he been consorting with other rambling groups or just hiding his light under a bishel? The man refused to say, although we all suspected he’d been off pirating with The Captain.
But no, The Captain, it was rumoured, was presently in Cornwall spending all his lump sum on fancy high heeled shoes and mastadon skin handbags. ( It just shows you how retirement makes you turn a bit weird! ) and The Bish steadfastly denied all accusations of going out shopping with weirdos.
But back to the ramble. The NERDS had the usual cup of coffee at Vick’s on Lewes station and got their photo taken in the waiting room by some eager young mademoiselle (Froggy’s charm working overtime again) then they got on the complicated train that goes to Eastbourne, back out of Eastbourne , all along the south coast, round and round the houses until it ends up at…..er somewhere I forget but it was near a nice field where we stopped to admire Sandyballs’s new boots.
Having spent all his NERDS career wearing sandals with no socks (some half-arsed fashion statement, allegedly) S.B. had decided now was the time to become a proper NERD and get some kitten heeled rambling boots. He had therefore sought the advice of The Captain, that well known pervert and foot fetishist, and come up with a boring pair of size 13 footwear type thingies which didn’t flop around like the last pair of sandals he’d turned up in.
Admiring speeches were made, photos were taken and awards given out. Sandyballs was very happy with all the adulation and vowed we could bury him in his NERDS boots next to Philby when his number came up. Froggy here made a bid for fame as the wannabe- next- NERD- to- croak by saying he was going for an angiogram next week and was feeling a little pale and wan at the thought of having to be fitted with the vicious nipple clamps which were apparently obligatory. Lafayette said he’d once gone out with an Irish bird called Angie O’ Plasty and was she any relation to Froggy’s angiogram, or did his one just play old fashioned records? Matt just smirked and murmured something about a club he’d been to in Berlin once.
We seemed to be in Pevensey so Sandyballs thought he’d celebrate his new footwear by buying some chips. Then we did a bit of rambling and then we went into a pub. It was a nice pub although the barmaid did look a bit askance at Lafayette when he asked for a Guinness shandy. “ Why can’t you drink Harvey’s like all the other daft NERDS? “ she said “This stuff is really sticky and gets everywhere.” Lafayette didn’t know what to say to this and turned to Matt for advice. The only answer he got was something along the lines of somebody’s solicitor was looking for work. Er.. Fine, I’ll just drink my Guinness and stuff then.
We sat outside and learned that that weekend something called PEVFEST was going to take place, and that it was going to be a local BIG, BIG THING, apparently even bigger than the usual futile “hunt the virgin all round Pevensey” event which took place every twenty five years, but this time with lots of rock bands !!!! “Er ………super,” we said and quickly downed two more pints before running away and looking for a chip shop.
Sandyballs led us unerringly to his pre-prandial aperitif of carbs, and because it would have been rude to let him eat by himself we all joined in and risked spoiling our appetites. On, on, we went through crappy caravan sites, along narrow country roads until Sandyballs got a phone call from some irate woman who was starving, wanted her dinner and demanded to know where he was. S.B. ‘fessed up to making a detour to get some chips and getting everybody lost in the process. The angry female voice threatened SB with the sack if he didn’t get his arse in gear but the latter quietly smiled and said actually,he had retired. Ho, ho!
Eventually The NERDS arrived at The Star at Normans Bay where an excellent, roasty dinner was on offer, and where suddenly a woman turned up wanting to be nice to us. However, this was no ordinary woman, this was Shirley Wirley the bestest girlie and the most efficient CIO (sadly demoted) in the whole wide Border Control Agencie Thingie wotsit. Lots of hugs and kisses all round and then rearrangement of the seating plan so that Froggy could talk a lot about work and so that the rest of us could just look in wonder into Shirley Wirley’s eyes and wonder why we hadn’t repealed NERDS’ Rule 2 (a) long before.
Later on that cold, rainy afternoon somebody thought it would be a good idea to go and freeze outside while hoovering up the pearls of wisdom which were emanating from SW’s lips, but in the end she had to hurry back home to cook Tin of Beans’s’ tea so sadly the NERDS had to say goodbye. There were lots more hugs and kisses and we found out that actually, and contrary to a malicious rumour put out by Froggy previously, Shirley Wirley
had quite a nice thin, but gropable bum which she tore from our grasp and led enticingly away. Now you see why girlies really shouldn’t be allowed on rambles; they’re really very bad for NERDS’ blood pressure!
Waiting in the train shelter at Normans Bay Lafayette fell in love with Froggy (faute de mieux) and tried to twist his nipple off. Froggy responded by telling Lafayette something fascinating about work, but Lafayette wasn’t listening; he was fantasising about mumsy thingies and slumped down in a drunken coma until the train came.
Most of the NERDS ended up in Lewes, apart from two whose combined age exceeded a hundred and forty, and the stalwart NERDS ended up in the Kings Head drinking Doombar.
It had been an interesting ramble and one in which Lafayette’s hormones had occasionally got the better of him. Thanks be to Sandyballs for the route and to Shirley Wirley for the entertainment. Oh, and to all those who met together to talk about work……fascinating stuff. Can’t wait for the next instalment.
Lafayette.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Lafayette, Matt, The Bish,
The Not So Mystery Guest - Shirley Wirley.
The “ Beauty and the 5 Beasts” Ramble.
Well, you know what they say, the older you get the more you lust after young women. That’s why up to now Rule No 2 (or is it 2a?) was “No women on NERDS’ rambles! This was because they might want to talk to us, flirt with us, seduce us, marry us, interfere in our lives and actually think they were good enough to take over NERDS’ rambles. No, we couldn’t have that at all, I mean what would our wives say?
But today was to be an exception because Shirley Wirley wouldn’t do any of the above nasty things to us - she’d got more sense! Besides which, we’d got Matt with us to warn us of the dangers of hellfire if we got unclean thoughts (especially about women), and The Bish who was ugly enough to frighten off any women and Lafayette and Froggy who loved each other to bits (see photo of Lafayette’s clumsy attempts at foreplay in the station shelter at Normans Bay. Sorry Brian, you’ve been away so long that there’s a new catamite on the block.)
The weather did not look promising. It was dull and shitey looking, hardly the sort of day to get entangled with the opposite sex, - or any sex for that matter. Most NERDS met on the train from Seaford where the Bish popped up again to swell our ranks. Long time no see. Had he been consorting with other rambling groups or just hiding his light under a bishel? The man refused to say, although we all suspected he’d been off pirating with The Captain.
But no, The Captain, it was rumoured, was presently in Cornwall spending all his lump sum on fancy high heeled shoes and mastadon skin handbags. ( It just shows you how retirement makes you turn a bit weird! ) and The Bish steadfastly denied all accusations of going out shopping with weirdos.
But back to the ramble. The NERDS had the usual cup of coffee at Vick’s on Lewes station and got their photo taken in the waiting room by some eager young mademoiselle (Froggy’s charm working overtime again) then they got on the complicated train that goes to Eastbourne, back out of Eastbourne , all along the south coast, round and round the houses until it ends up at…..er somewhere I forget but it was near a nice field where we stopped to admire Sandyballs’s new boots.
Having spent all his NERDS career wearing sandals with no socks (some half-arsed fashion statement, allegedly) S.B. had decided now was the time to become a proper NERD and get some kitten heeled rambling boots. He had therefore sought the advice of The Captain, that well known pervert and foot fetishist, and come up with a boring pair of size 13 footwear type thingies which didn’t flop around like the last pair of sandals he’d turned up in.
Admiring speeches were made, photos were taken and awards given out. Sandyballs was very happy with all the adulation and vowed we could bury him in his NERDS boots next to Philby when his number came up. Froggy here made a bid for fame as the wannabe- next- NERD- to- croak by saying he was going for an angiogram next week and was feeling a little pale and wan at the thought of having to be fitted with the vicious nipple clamps which were apparently obligatory. Lafayette said he’d once gone out with an Irish bird called Angie O’ Plasty and was she any relation to Froggy’s angiogram, or did his one just play old fashioned records? Matt just smirked and murmured something about a club he’d been to in Berlin once.
We seemed to be in Pevensey so Sandyballs thought he’d celebrate his new footwear by buying some chips. Then we did a bit of rambling and then we went into a pub. It was a nice pub although the barmaid did look a bit askance at Lafayette when he asked for a Guinness shandy. “ Why can’t you drink Harvey’s like all the other daft NERDS? “ she said “This stuff is really sticky and gets everywhere.” Lafayette didn’t know what to say to this and turned to Matt for advice. The only answer he got was something along the lines of somebody’s solicitor was looking for work. Er.. Fine, I’ll just drink my Guinness and stuff then.
We sat outside and learned that that weekend something called PEVFEST was going to take place, and that it was going to be a local BIG, BIG THING, apparently even bigger than the usual futile “hunt the virgin all round Pevensey” event which took place every twenty five years, but this time with lots of rock bands !!!! “Er ………super,” we said and quickly downed two more pints before running away and looking for a chip shop.
Sandyballs led us unerringly to his pre-prandial aperitif of carbs, and because it would have been rude to let him eat by himself we all joined in and risked spoiling our appetites. On, on, we went through crappy caravan sites, along narrow country roads until Sandyballs got a phone call from some irate woman who was starving, wanted her dinner and demanded to know where he was. S.B. ‘fessed up to making a detour to get some chips and getting everybody lost in the process. The angry female voice threatened SB with the sack if he didn’t get his arse in gear but the latter quietly smiled and said actually,he had retired. Ho, ho!
Eventually The NERDS arrived at The Star at Normans Bay where an excellent, roasty dinner was on offer, and where suddenly a woman turned up wanting to be nice to us. However, this was no ordinary woman, this was Shirley Wirley the bestest girlie and the most efficient CIO (sadly demoted) in the whole wide Border Control Agencie Thingie wotsit. Lots of hugs and kisses all round and then rearrangement of the seating plan so that Froggy could talk a lot about work and so that the rest of us could just look in wonder into Shirley Wirley’s eyes and wonder why we hadn’t repealed NERDS’ Rule 2 (a) long before.
Later on that cold, rainy afternoon somebody thought it would be a good idea to go and freeze outside while hoovering up the pearls of wisdom which were emanating from SW’s lips, but in the end she had to hurry back home to cook Tin of Beans’s’ tea so sadly the NERDS had to say goodbye. There were lots more hugs and kisses and we found out that actually, and contrary to a malicious rumour put out by Froggy previously, Shirley Wirley
had quite a nice thin, but gropable bum which she tore from our grasp and led enticingly away. Now you see why girlies really shouldn’t be allowed on rambles; they’re really very bad for NERDS’ blood pressure!
Waiting in the train shelter at Normans Bay Lafayette fell in love with Froggy (faute de mieux) and tried to twist his nipple off. Froggy responded by telling Lafayette something fascinating about work, but Lafayette wasn’t listening; he was fantasising about mumsy thingies and slumped down in a drunken coma until the train came.
Most of the NERDS ended up in Lewes, apart from two whose combined age exceeded a hundred and forty, and the stalwart NERDS ended up in the Kings Head drinking Doombar.
It had been an interesting ramble and one in which Lafayette’s hormones had occasionally got the better of him. Thanks be to Sandyballs for the route and to Shirley Wirley for the entertainment. Oh, and to all those who met together to talk about work……fascinating stuff. Can’t wait for the next instalment.
Lafayette.
Fellow Nerds,
This month we ramble on Wednesday 20th. As some of you may know, we will be lunching at The Star Inn at Normans Bay - where hopefully we will lunch in the company of la belle Shirley. You will need a day return ticket to Cooden Beach, BUT we will be alighting at a station before that to start the ramble. A pre- ramble pint cannot be ruled out.
Therefore can the Seaford/ Newhaven contingent get out of bed a bit earlier and take the 09.25 from Seaford Central which gets to Lewes at 09.44. The onward train leaves at 10.09. Plenty of time for a coffee and whatever at Vic's.
Anybody know the date of the August ramble? This will obviously have to be a Froggy-friendly date.
See some of you next week.
Harry ( aka Sandy)
This month we ramble on Wednesday 20th. As some of you may know, we will be lunching at The Star Inn at Normans Bay - where hopefully we will lunch in the company of la belle Shirley. You will need a day return ticket to Cooden Beach, BUT we will be alighting at a station before that to start the ramble. A pre- ramble pint cannot be ruled out.
Therefore can the Seaford/ Newhaven contingent get out of bed a bit earlier and take the 09.25 from Seaford Central which gets to Lewes at 09.44. The onward train leaves at 10.09. Plenty of time for a coffee and whatever at Vic's.
Anybody know the date of the August ramble? This will obviously have to be a Froggy-friendly date.
See some of you next week.
Harry ( aka Sandy)
Thursday, July 14, 2011
July 2011 Joining Instructions
Fellow Nerds,
This month we ramble on Wednesday 20th. As some of you may know, we will be lunching at The Star Inn at Normans Bay - where hopefully we will lunch in the company of la belle Shirley. You will need a day return ticket to Cooden Beach, BUT we will be alighting at a station before that to start the ramble. A pre- ramble pint cannot be ruled out.
Therefore can the Seaford/ Newhaven contingent get out of bed a bit earlier and take the 09.25 from Seaford Central which gets to Lewes at 09.44. The onward train leaves at 10.09. Plenty of time for a coffee and whatever at Vic's.
Anybody know the date of the August ramble? This will obviously have to be a Froggy-friendly date.
See some of you next week.
Harry ( aka Sandy)
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Floppy Boot Ramble!
NERDS’ Ramble No 259 - 8th June 2011
Those Present - Sandyballs, Paco, Froggy, Matt,
Lafayette, Dio.
The Floppy Boot Ramble.
It was a pleasant June day; that is to say it wasn’t raining like hell. The NERDS had been instructed to gather at Vick’s on Lewes station to be briefed. Lafayette thought Vick had succumbed to the Philby Poetry prize and gone on to higher things, but apparently not, he had just been having a little rest and was now back serving commuters (and NERDS).
Matt had just returned from (yet another) cruise trying to evade the clutches of randy widows who wanted to get their hands on both his body and his other assets. He said there had been a free bar all over the ship and the fridge had been full of Slovenian pole dancers put there to gratify everyone’s whim. Sounded a bit like TN3 in the old days just as they were introducing women IOs in short skirts. Froggy was suffering from stress and sciatica brought on from (yet again) sitting on the photocopier at work trying to get a good picture of his bum to put in Shirley’s pigeon hole. ‘Nuff said.
Lafayette was still trying to impress on Dio that Brighton people talked funny and that it wasn’t a personal insult when they jabbered at you and you couldn’t understand a word. Dio kept thinking that everything the NERDS did was “very British” and utterly barking mad. Not so far off the truth when you think about it really. Paco was notable for his absence…but more of this later.
After gearing up on coffee and stuff the NERDS took the train to Berwick (Lafayette told Dio it was pronounced “Berrick” not how most Americans might think ie. Burrwick - he’ll get there in the end). On detraining we were greeted by Paco who had driven all the way to Berrick on account of what he had overslept and nearly missed the boat again. (Predictable or what?).
Thanks to Froggy’s great flair for scanning the internet we found the Berrick Arms actually open and willing to dispense beer at
11 00hrs in the morning - for a welcome change - so we all sat outside where it was fast becoming sunny and eagerly imagined having a pint in all the four pubs on this ramble. Ha, ha! how disillusioned were we to become, but circumstances and fate and destiny and somebody’s equipment were to be our downfall that day.
At this point we were informed that our old mate, Bronco had fallen off his horse and had been in hospital for a fortnight waiting for the NERDS to go and see him. Since visiting the sick is one of “the good deeds” wot NERDS do, Lafayette decided to mount an expedition to The Royal Sussex in Brighton the following day and to take Dio along as interpreter. Matt said we could go to Wetherspoons for lunch and perhaps even go to the pictures in the Marina, so we all decided to do that instead and sod Bronco who shouldn’t have been on his horse in the first place.
Then Matt mentioned that it was his 29th birthday the following day and how he’d like to buy us all a drink. We weren’t at all sure about this as we’d got a long way to go and didn’t want to spoil our appetites for lunch. However after a bit of arm twisting and appealing to our sense of decency The NERDS graciously allowed Matt to indulge his little whim but restricted it to a wee half of lemonade as we were all keen to get going.
The route took in a sort of path or cycle route towards The Cricketers, our next port of call. Lafayette remembered that it was up this particular road a couple of years back that Froggy had offered him a swig from his hip flask and introduced him to the delights of Sailor Gerry (that is rum, not what you were thinking). So pondering on these happy nostalgic thoughts Lafayette began to notice that Sandyballs was limping rather and falling more and more behind. The sad excuse for this was apparently that he had a number of small holes in his boots which were slowing him down. ‘More attention seeking’ thought Lafayette and carried on. The NERDS had for years pursued a firm policy of ignoring attention seekers so much so that it had succeeded in driving one into his pretty little grave.
Crossing the A27 near The Cricketers is always good for a laugh and enabled Lafayette to relive his glory days when he took on Usain Bolt in the egg and spoon race 60 yards dash a few years ago. Matt unfortunately had lost his own particular edge of speed and not only got nearly mown down by a big lorry but nearly lost his trendy baseball hat as well. Lafayette bravely risked his life to step back into the lethal road to get it for him
(it was Matt’s birthday the next day, after all and he couldn’t be allowed to appear at his own party improperly dressed.)
And so to lunch at The Cricketers. This was taken inside and was rather expensive. Paco had a flat fish that looked as though it had been caught trying to cross the A27 - all mangled bones and flatness. Lafayette had sausages - for a change, and Dio had nothing. He was saving his strength for his next cigarette. The NERDS agreed that the lunches were not really up to the required standard even though the beer and the barmaids were OK.
Since the weather had now turned into a howling gale Lafayette proposed that we should all take our port and cigars (or whatever) outside and so we jammed all five of us on to one tiny picnic bench and huddled together out of the wind. Matt said he’d been a bit disappointed with the food and since mad cow cucumbers were being avoided that week on the continent he was going to revert to his healthy food option wherever he went
ie. burger and chips.
The conversation ran through the usual tick-box sequence of subjects - Philby’s shortcomings, Lafayette’s bitter experience on the Chartres, how lovely Mike Clarke was, Matt’s cruises (again), how cute baby Flintoff was, Froggy’s hang-ups etc, etc.
Just then Sandyballs really went for the attention seeking prize and said he was tired of life, tired of retirement, tired of the NERDS and proceeded to rip the sole off his manky boot and throw it in the air in frustration.
Lafayette who had done a CIO course on stress management immediately saw they were dealing with something serious, a potential suicidal NERD who had clearly lost his way.
Nothing for it therefore but to shake Sandyballs vigorously and shout at him to get a grip. Sandyballs dissolved in tears and sobbed that he couldn’t stand not being at work, that nobody at home loved him and that he’d never wanted to become a NERD anyway. Seeing that he was inconsolable Lafayette slapped Sandyballs some more and told him he was spoiling the day for everyone and because of his utter selfishness they had no option other than to abandon the ramble and head for home.
Gloom descended. There was talk of confiscating Sandyballs’s lump sum in reprisal but Lafayette hit the wimpering S. B. some more and said he had probably been punished enough by being made to stop work. Sandyballs tearfully agreed and promised to be a good NERD in future and pack in all the stupid attention seeking bollocks.
We drifted home (one of us hopped) until we got back to the ‘Berrick Arms’ which of course was now closed. So we tied Sandyballs to the railway line, stuffed his good boot down his throat and waited for the train to arrive. Rage was too bland a word for what the NERDS were feeling about how that day’s ramble had been utterly spoiled just by some selfish, petty display of wanting to be taken notice of.
On the train Froggy callously said he was really looking forward to his early shift the next day and thus made Sandyballs break down again and start blubbering about how he really missed stamping on and stuff like that.
At Lewes we got out, gave Sandyballs a last kick and then went our separate ways. What a day. Thanks go to all the real NERDS who had put up with Sandyballs’s totally inexcusable and wholly unacceptable behaviour. His position on the committee is now under review.
Please accept the Scribe’s apologies for having to bring you news of these obviously distressing events.
Lafayette.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Awaiting June's 'write-up'
Whilst we are awaiting the “write-up” from Lafayette I publish one of Froggy’s pictures. If you look carefully the 40 sign in the background is anachronistic. These chaps are way over that figure. However, judging by their body-language they really do look like public school prefects on their way back to school after an afternoon in the town ‘pigging-out’ on jam tarts and doughnuts! They all have their hands in their pockets (playing pocket billiards) and are swaggering along the road just looking for an out of place ‘oik’. Well; I have no doubt that the group will fail to reply to these observations, but we shall see.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Supplementary Joining instructions for June 2011
Herewith the jotting of Sandyballs and Froggy regarding the above.
Fellow Nerds,
This month we stagger about the countryside on Wednesday June 8th. We start the walk at Berwick Station which means taking the 11.09 from Lewes. So the Seaford contingent have a bit of a lay-in and take the 10.25 which gets to Lewes at 10.44. Thence to Vics for coffee and bacon sarnies before the onward train to Berwick.
As ever, if you cannot make it this time - please let me know.
Sandyballs
Fellow Nerds.
Halle-bloody-lujah! The Berwick Inn has new owners and more importantly new opening times, especially designed to accommodate thirsty Nerds at the beginning (but, alas, not at the end) of their epic walk. Here is the link to the new all-singing-all-dancing website.Yahoooo! Welcome back "The Four Pub Ramble"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My favourite all-time Sussex Ramble!!!!!
The Happy Frog xxxxx
http://www.theberwickinn.com/
ps Matt? Are you around?
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Philby
A NERD EXTRAORDINARE
It’s nearly three years since “Philby” decided to leave the NERDS in his own unique way. It’s a notable fact that since his departure he has figured many times in subsequent ‘write-ups’. His selfless dedication to photography was matched only in his love of wine and the odd Calvados. I remember many years ago, when he shared my house, his room was practically lined with photographic wallets from numerous developers and printers. Surely Tesco’s in Lewes must have upgraded their development equipment on the profits from his deposits. As a NERD he was known for his acumen in wine selection, although it was very personal. Another of his loves was for cats and his own was spoiled to the nth degree and yet he lavished his affection on my three when he stayed with me. His musical talents were manifold. From his piano playing to improvised bodhran he could hold a tune and improvise alternatively from ‘Sleeping Satellite’ to ‘summertime’ to ‘Son of a preacher man’. His plaintive cry of ‘One with me in it’ was a cause célèbre that frequently elicited groans from the assembly but often proved the pinnacle of the ramble’s pictures. His memory is celebrated both by the NERDS and his family and in later years his legacy has been be recorded by his headstone in Seaford Cemetry.
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Joining Instructions for June 2011
Hi fellow Nerds,
It does seem a long time since the advenures in the New Forest, doesn't it? I can now share with you the dates for the next 2 rambles - as Froggy is now the only wage-slave leftin the Nerds we have to work around his onerous duties. Anyway, in June we march on Wednesday 8th. This is an old favourite the 4- pub(or is it only 3?) ramble starting at Berwick station. Details, as ever, to follow. In July we go on Wednesday 20th.
Please let me know if you cannot make one or the other.
A final thought - isn't retirement wonderful? And as for the bus pass.....?! Sorry, Froggy!!
Sandyballs
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The New Forest Ramble 2011
NERDS’ RAMBLE No. 258, 10 - 12/5/11
Another New Forest Ramble.
The Froggy Show.
Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Lafayette, B.T.
It was indeed The Froggy Show for he had organized it, produced it, financed it, arranged the publicity, got the backing
(other NERDS) and even provided a chauffeur driven (himself)
limousine to transport everyone there. Where? why to the New Forest, of course, where Froggy grew up, fed the ponies, fell in love a few times; (and not just with the ponies!) and finally turned into the professional officer you see today.
Admittedly he had fallen down in one respect - the sweets in the chauffeured limousine were crap, no sugar you see, but the conversation was jolly. For example, did you know that Carl the cleaner’s other job was that of stand-up comedian and that he would disappear into the bog at work a lot (we did presume that this was to practice on himself - the stand-up, not anything else.)
Or that for the next few days Froggy’s arsehole would be as the centre of the universe for all us NERDS? Read on and eventually all will be revealed…..yeah.
So we arrived at the Rose and Crown in Brockenhurst, our favourite pub, grabbed a beer and went to have lunch and sit in the beeyootiful back garden where Lafayette had four years previously enjoyed his first pensioner’s meal (much to the chagrin of Sandyballs who was only 59 at the time.) But Sandyballs had a trick up his sleeve. With a flourish he produced a number of ancient photos taken, guess what, of the NERDS in The New Forest and including Philby, taken in 1996.
Oh dear, oh dear. No greater proof hath man of the march of anno domini than Philby’s photos. We felt him hovering above us cackling as we saw with dismay what we had looked like and realised with dread what we had become. Lafayette will spare you the foul details and let Froggy’s and BT’s photos speak for themselves. But how lovely we all looked then; so fresh, so handsome….so daft! Even the Bish looked sort of good looking
in a bishy sort of way (no, not really, I lie). So in dismay and despair at our profound degeneration we sent Froggy off to get
some more pints and vowed to eat, drink and do whatever the hell we had to do…fast, otherwise we would end up like Philby, like dead before our allotted time.
To cheer us up a bit Sandyballs pulled his second stunt of the day and produced his sooper, dooper new I-phone with its million and twenty three apps. Apparently there was an app to show your present location. Lafayette asked what was wrong with looking out of the window (non-technical, you see) but Sandyballs said it was useful for NERDS’ outings like the present one, when you woke up feeling like shite somewhere different and bingo! Your phone would tell you exactly where you were. BT said all he had to do was ask the wife lying next to him, (whoever she was that week) but we all hit on the obvious flaw in this, i.e. he’d been married three times and might get the wrong answer. Lafayette still preferred the “looking out of the window” option although he did admit he had once or twice woken up at Gatwick in the middle of the night and wondered where the fuck he was (that damned Shirley and her bottles of wine!).
So after lunch it was to be the mini ramble. You know that sort of stroll up the road to loosen the muscles, clear the head and prepare one for the main ramble on the following day……..
No way; Froggy had other plans, were we but to know it. The NERDS were taken into the south side of the Forest, along the path we went along with Philby that time he was still wearing his carpet slippers after breakfast when nobody had the heart to disillusion him. (We were so shy then). The weather was still pleasant and sunny with just the odd cyclist about. Froggy’s sense of direction started to fail so he consulted the map and asked the rest of the NERDS where we should go. Cor! He’s a born leader innit? Sandyballs started to fiddle with the sat nav app on his phone and then lost his way in the middle of mode 62b so carried on fiddling because that’s what he does. Lafayette got bored and marched off in completely the wrong direction (we were to find) into a pleasant looking woodland glade. During all this pantomime we all stood on a large stone and fell off a few times before BT managed to get us all upright at the same time and made us famous for ever with his camera.
Eventually we all agreed that we were in fact lost and ought to do something about it before night fell and the world supplies of Old Thumper ran out. So we backtracked, leaving behind Lafayette’s sunny glade to his disappointment, skirted a long way round a treacherous looking bog and ended up on Froggy’s blasted heath where he had actually wanted to take us. Time was definitely marching on. The NERDS were getting thirsty, they felt like the remnants of Napoleon’s army retreating from Moscow (without the snowy bits). Remember, this was just the mini ramble and already we were totally shagged out.
Finally we went over the railway bridge to the Foresters Arms and collapsed in the back garden. It was still warm and sunny and the Old Thumper started to flow. Now, discounting the fact that we had all walked a vast distance (at least 4-5 miles), had wandered around in circles , and undoubtedly become dehydrated, it is a well-known fact among the NERDS that Old Thumper not only deprives one of speech but also takes away all attempts at rational thought. So for a while we just sat there in the sun giggling at each other until B.T. broke the silence by stating he had always thought of Sheila Stone as looking like a caryatid. Well, I ask you; this certainly sent everyone scurrying for their dictionaries/apps. So it was some gracious being who held up a temple rather than a garden vegetable as Lafayette had thought. Just wait till he tells her on the next Gatwick ramble and claims all this intellectual coolness for himself!
Back on the train to Brockenhurst where we had booked into Il Paglio for dinner. This was where, after a few bottles of wine, Philby had made friends with all the waiters and got the whole restaurant singing his crappy songs like ‘Yesterday’ and ‘Summertime.’
However Sandyballs found he couldn’t wait for dinner and went out on the scrounge for fish and chips as a sort of hors d’oeuvre. Just as Lafayette was remonstrating with him outside the chippy for his greed he noticed a real NF pony hanging about, obviously waiting for someone to buy it a bag of chips. Now Lafayette likes (other people’s) ponies because in the main they’re docile like cats and you can stroke them. Unfortunately some young girl had got in first and was cooing all the daft noises to the pony that Lafayette was preparing to do, so he stomped off in a strop not just at Sandyball’s greed but at the injustice of women always getting in first.
Dinner, very slow dinner, was at Il Paglio. God, the service was dire although the food when we got it was quite good. Trouble was, during the long wait we had all eaten ourselves stupid with bread, and in one particular case, with chips. Lafayette felt so stuffed he could hardly get through his lasagna, although Froggy didn’t seem to have much trouble eating the cockroaches in his risotto. The couple on the table opposite were quite obviously not married due to the amazing amount of attention they were paying to each other. Much better entertainment than Philby’s crappy songs!
Back at The Rose and Crown Sandyballs had very generously said he would share a room with Froggy to enable Lafayette and BT to talk about guns all night (We knew he just wanted to have a room in the posh annex, but his comeuppance was nigh). Anyway we all trolled of chez Frog & SB for brandy and ginger.
Trouble was nobody really liked the cheap brandy even when diluted, and the NERDS were all knackered anyway from the MINI ramble and the days drinking, so we all went back to our own rooms, talked about guns and crashed out.
Day 2 - The REAL Ramble.
Breakfast - always a tricky time in the Rose and Crown after Froggy’s outburst of pique last year when there were no beans on offer. He’d brought his own tin of beans with him this time (or at least a song to that effect) so that there would be no mistake. Sadly there were no hash browns for BT this year but he took it like a man and didn’t frighten the little waitress to death. Sandyballs was a bit pissed off at the lack of marmite, but simply activated the marmite app on his phone and harmony was shortly afterwards restored.
And so to the main ramble. Froggy led us through Brockenhust in the dull and rain threatening weather, over the ford and down the gloomy path by a stream. There to Lafayette’s delight were a couple of ponies busy chomping Tesco trollies in the stream. Lafayette approached them from side on; he remembered that the Bish had nearly had his face kicked in one year by creeping up behind one but these were friendly even though they had a lot of burrs stuck to them. Froggy remembered seeing an advert for a pony sale somewhere but we put him off this idea because there wasn’t really room in the car for all the NERDS and a pony, besides he might have tried eating Froggy’s jumper while he was driving.
Over the heath we went (a different heath) where there were lots of ponies standing around eating things. BT said they were pests and like the seagulls in Newhaven but Lafayette sprang to their defense and pointed out they didn’t actually squawk or shit on your car (unless you were really unlucky. There were people about actually sitting on (their own) ponies and meandering about aimlessly rather like Old Trouts in a pub. Indeed when we got to Dolder Ford Bridge we had a pause to let some ponified Old Trouts come over the bridge without stampeding. However one pony had a tantrum and refused to go over because apparently he was the alpha male and he hadn’t been given his beans for breakfast.
We got led through the woods although Froggy reckoned he was walking against his instincts (wot instincts? was he being led astray by wood nymphs or was someone trying to turn him into a lesbian?). Anyway we got deeper and deeper into the Forest and Sandyballs spoiled the atmosphere somewhat by asking pointedly what time we were due to get lost. Froggy claimed
(several times) that we couldn’t possibly get lost so we all felt happy about that then.
At 11.42 precisely we got lost. Don’t ask me how this happened since everything had been going swimmingly. We were just lost.
Froggy began to panic; Lafayette went off looking for more ponies to cuddle; BT amused himself by watching jackdaws rolling over pony turds in search of fresh spiders and Sandyballs decided to go off road (actually ‘on-road’;Ed.) to take the most direct route to the pub.
Froggy rallied his gut instinct (more of this particular type of instinct later) and we fudged our way through the interestingly boggy part of the Forest directly parallel to the road Sandyballs was presumably taking. We all hoped he was choking to death on the traffic fumes.
Finally we struck lucky and arrived at The Oak Inn where we crashed into the bar and met Sandyballs who had just got there and was ordering a pint. Sadly there was no Old Thumper so we had to drink the bog standard rubbish which was just as well because we could now tell each other our different tales. Sandyballs justified his lack of faith in our leader by saying he’d been picked up by four nymphomaniacs in a jeep and had just waved them off shortly before our arrival. We knew he was lying so told him that Froggy had unerringly led us to the pub without any navigational problems. Everybody’s nose stared to grow longer so we stopped this silly game and ordered lunch.
It was a bit cold and windy sitting outside but Lafayette hoovered up a big plate of scallops which cost him most of his lump sum, and the others ate various versions of heffalump pie with the heffalumps’ hair being separate from its guts - very strange!
After lunch we headed for Lyndhurst through more exciting bits of the Forest and fetched up at The Swan where Philby had taken some of his erstwhile photographs (1996, remember) and where Old Thumper was allegedly on sale. Sadly the latter was not true; the barmaid said the locals had formed a private club deep in the Forest where they went to swap wives for barrels of Old Thumper so that they could get well and truly pissed and incoherent without any undue interference. You could only join their club if you had a really cracking wife (like Susannah Reid)
And then they’d only give you half a pint if you weren’t local.
OK we’ll drink the rubbish. Apart from this the entire décor had changed. Gone was the comfy armchair where Bronco had sprawled so we stomped off outside and sat in the freezing cold for one pint only. We could just hear a faint cackling from overhead as if Philby were lurking and whispering ”Not long now for you, you bastards. You’ll be joining me soon.” We sat up, shivering and ran off down the road to another pub. NERDS don’t like haunted pubs!
Fortunately Lyndhurst itself seemed a much friendlier place with the Fox and Hounds right on the main street opposite the icecream shop. We sat and drank coffee (and cognac) here and Sandyballs had his second dump of the day. Then we had an icecream, then bought a Mazerati, then bought some sweets in an old fashioned sweety shop run by a little old bespectacled lady.
Since we had obviously walked for miles and miles again, this being the principal ramble, Froggy kindly said we could take the bus back even though it would cost him, and only him, an arm and a leg. At the bus stop Lafayette was chomping his way through a mega bag of toffees when he made a new friend. “My mom warned me about men like you.” said the nice, dark haired thirty five year old as she took another toffee but the rest of the NERDS dragged Lafayette away before he could get into real trouble. “Shame really,” thought Lafayette, “ I could have taken her into the Forest and swapped her for half a pint of Old Thumper.”
Back at the Rose and Crown we sat back in the beeyootiful garden again drinking gin and tonics while Froggy went inside with his crotchety gut complaint to outdo Sandyballs in the ‘how many dumps you can do in a day’ competition. Sandyballs was not fazed , he knew he could control his entrails at will while Froggy couldn’t, so he fiddled with his phone in a vain attempt to bring up the pole-dancing nuns which the NERDS had specially requested, but had to settle instead for frogs shagging mermaids on the X video app.
That night we had an Indian (meal) and, of course we had to go to the restaurant where Philby had rolled up pissed and disgraced us all. (NERDS never get pissed). Sandyballs had to go and get his usual bag of chips before the meal - this could start an interesting trend in restaurants “Hello, sir, would you like a glass of champagne or is it your usual bag of chips for starters? …..Hmm. Anyway by now we were so stuffed from the other excesses that chewing our way through chicken tikka buhna rogan ghosht vindaloo biriani was quite an effort. Froggy managed to do dumps 4 and 5 while we were there which beat Sandyballs just sitting there and thinking about going himself.
Current score at this time was SB - 2, Froggy - 5.
Later we sat in the garden again having been served by a barmaid who was a Bombay Sapphire (gin) addict, while Froggy sang his version of “She was only the pig keeper’s daughter, but she never wanted for owt.” ( I expect you can make up the rest yourselves). Round about now we realised that we were actually the next generation of Old Trouts who had the right to go into any pub slowly, bumble around and be indecisive. Time was marching on, you could still hear a faint cackling in the air above our heads - spooky!
Day 3 It’s a wrap
The day was bright and sunny; it always is when you’ve finished all the rambles. BT and Lafayette headed down for breakfast. Suddenly Sandyballs fell into the dining room ashen faced, haggard and with no socks. “You’ve got no socks on.” said a perspicacious Lafayette. “That’s because I stuffed them down Froggy’s throat last night to stop him snoring; I’ve been walking the streets since half past three trying to get the ringing out of my ears.” Then he keeled over into his cornflakes ‘bonk.’
Just then Froggy rocked up “Nice day what? Hope there’s beans for breakfast.” Sandyballs just groaned and slipped on to the floor. The rest of the NERDS just carried on buttering toast and stuff.
After a walk into the village in an abortive attempt to buy Sandyballs some more socks, (He drew the line at spending 30 guineas in some posh men’s clothing shop and said he’d rather freeze). We bade farewell to the Rose and Crown (our favourite pub with the beeyootiful garden) and set off back homewards to the strains of Froggy’s pan-lyrical compilation tape (Mongoloid and other gems.) Finally we ended up at the Black Rabbit in Arundel (we always do.) and sat outside in a freezing wind (poor Sandyballs, nosocks) and watched two seagulls having a fight over territory. We all agreed things didn’t get much better than this!
It had been a great three days and many thanks to Froggy for the driving, organisation, routes, impeccable guiding, snoring and dumping. It wouldn’t have been half as much fun without you!
We decided that it had all been so good it marked a turning point in our lives. We felt inspired and resolved to do the following:
Froggy: - 1) to conquer Hadrian’s Wall.
2) to find Jesus.
3) to get promoted.
BT : - 1) to become a green fairy
2) to write a novel in language so obscure nobody
can understand it and win the Man Booker prize.
Sandyballs - 1) to crawl on his knees to Vienna.
2) to recant and become Pope.
Lafayette - 1) to tidy his room and get a job.
That’s all, Folks!
Lafayette.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Secondary Joining Instructions for NEW FOREST RAMBLE
Yo! Nerds!
Might as well get the joining instructions out early, so that I can relax for a short while and pretend that I too am retired! Huh! Fat Chance! They will be bleeding me dry for the full remaining 2 years...moan moan moan groan groan groan, bummer......Well done to dear old Harry for getting out when it really mattered the most!
I've worked out a couple of familiar(ish) walks, reduced in length to just 4-5 miles in order to allow for unexpected delays & distractions from the odd deer watching; bird watching (both kinds); hip flasking; old thumpering and general bad behaviour. My long-standing idea of incorporating the lunch pub facilities at Burley was knocked well and truly on the head when I discovered that there was no return transport ! - oh well, maybe we could actually stay in the village at a future date? And maybe, just maybe we could take a detour there before going home, just to check it out? In the wake of such disappointment, t'was a struggle to decide which walk when and where; but, in the end, I've settled for a return train @ 17:44hrs (@ £3 x 4 - from whip) on the half day walk and a return bus (payment for just me and BT then [ Oh no, just you as my bus pass is still valid!!]) every 30 mins on the full day ramble, which should allow for quite a laid back start time (especially after all the beans I'm getting for breakie)! and which will also introduce us to a brand new lunch pub, not a million miles away from our favourite Oak Inn (hmmmmm, maybe I've given away too much here)?
Anyway, in order to gird our loins at a reasonable hour for the first day ramble, I propose to be leaving Harry's no later than 10:15hrs. I shall therefore be "doing my taxi thang" at Lavender Lodge at 09:30hrs. In-car entertainment will no doubt allow the Skinheads to go bowling; as well as offering a slight peppering of shit-kicking music for Brian and some old (& new) favourites to delight Lafayette & Sandyballs. Please make sure you already have your water bottles; suckies; newspapers; johnny bags etc. as I shan't be planning on stopping en route (at any point) and I have it mind to be arriving @ 12:00hrs in Brockenhurst (whether the rooms are ready or not)!
It goes without saying (so why am I saying it)? that I, for one, am really, really looking forward to spending some quality time in one of my all-time favourite places with 3 of my all-time favourite friends......so let's make it a good one and I embrace you all!!!!! I've even splashed out on a brand new spanking up-to-date mappa mundi of the New Forest. And........no doubt......no doubt........ Tradition will be maintained with lunch at the Black Rabbit, on the return journey?
The Frogster XXX See you all on Tuesday 10th May!
Saturday, April 02, 2011
Joining Instructions for The New Forest Ramble
Joining Instructions for May’s New Forest Ramble 2011
Froggy gets the day right (unlike Sandyballs) and with any luck the organisational skills will be methodized appropriately. Here is the Epistle according to Froggy:-
Guys,
I've just booked our two, twin bedded rooms for two nights at the Rose & Crown on Tuesday 10th May and Wednesday 11th May. I tried to get both rooms in the annexe, but was only offered the usual 1 in the pub and 1 in the annexe. I, for one, have never been privileged to sleep anywhere else but in the pub. So advance warning that I will be challenging for the annexe room, along with Brian (if he'll have me)! This time the rooms may not be available before 14:00 hrs (depending on whether they have been occupied), so we may have to eat first and check-in later. There was also an offer of 20% off on all food, if on-line bookings took place before end of April; though I'm not sure if that also applies to telephone bookings and in my excitement at being promised baked beans for breakfast, I clean forgot to check! I shan't be getting any confirmation by email about the booking (something to do with a "lost" computer code from the previous time, so perhaps Lord Charles and Harry could confirm the booking as well as double checking the 20% off food offer on your trip to Ringwood?
I'm including a useful link or three:-
http://www.driftinn.co.uk/ http://www.rosecrownpubbrockenhurst.co.uk/ http://www.thesnakecatcher.co.uk/
The Drift Inn was the Beaulieu Road Motel (Old Thumper Pub). I can't seem to get hold of the website for the Old Oak at Bank, near Lyndhurst, so maybe I should think of a complete change of direction for the full day and check out the possibilities of going to Burley instead? Plenty of time for research after my Costa Rica trip next week......
Hope yous enjoyed the ramble photies?!
F-F Frog
ps Perhaps I should volunteer to do the driving, as Harry has to drive to France the day after we come back? The skinheads will be taken bowling in whichever car goes!!!!
April Fool's Ramble 2011
NERDS’ RAMBLE No 257 1st April ‘11.
Those Present - Sandyballs, Froggy, Lafayette, Dio,
Matt, Bronco.
The Meeting Bronco Ramble.
Well, despite increasing the font size for last month’s ramble to enable B.T. to fit in all the photos which Froggy may have taken, this arrangement was not to everyone’s liking…” You can please some of the people some of the time, but not…..etc” (Joseph Stalin.) So poor overworked Lafayette had to re-think his next masterpiece so that all myopic NERDS could have access. The new font size is therefore bigger than the original classic style but not so big that it fucks up the way it sits on your personal I-pad, I-phone or what have you. Hope you’re all happy with it now.
Most of us met up on that regular 10 o’clockish train from Seaford where Matt was amusing his audience with the tale of how he’d bought some cord trousers from M&S five years previously ( he’d been invited to join a hush hush secret society somewhere in Seaford, apparently) but had to take them back because the cording had been worn away by all the frottage caused by dubious sexual practices. Not surprisingly M&S had been unwilling to replace the trousers even though Matt had said he’d settle for a free dessert from their expensive food hall instead. You can’t win ‘em all, Matt!
Sandyballs, this month’s route master, met us all at Lewes waving his grandson and heir, baby Flintoff, in our faces. Flintoff took one look at Lafayette and ran screaming for the hills - he seemed to have some hang-up about Lafayette making faces and noises at him. Well, he’s a baby innit? Aren’t they there for people to make faces and noises at them? Anyway, Mrs Sandyballs hurriedly made off with the precious little bundle and Sandyballs gave everyone a lift to his split level, ranch sized residence up the hill.
First off we were given a guided tour of the new secret underground bunker in Mill Rd. which the Sandyballs family had filled up with bottles of champagne and where they all planned to get arseholed watching the royal wedding. This was so they could pick up tips about who to invite later on in the year to the even bigger royal wedding within the family. Maybe Kate and Will will come to theirs…..oooh, exciting!
So aperitifs were taken in the ranch style etc. and much whiskey and coffee was imbibed. Matt said he was going on holiday to Slovenia soon and it was going to cost about as much as presently owed by the Irish economy. Someone suggested he be patriotic and donate the costs of his holiday to the Irish economy, a bit like a sort of Green Nose Day, but this didn’t seem to go down too well. Froggy looked out of the window and thought Sandyballs must have found a new way to play his CDs since they were all festooning his cherry tree. Sandyballs patiently explained it was a secret New Age method of making his tree produce more cherries since the Tree Fairies liked listening to music. Froggy thought this was a good idea and said he would hang some of his own CDs on his son’s bedroom door knob to magic him into being polite to him once more. Nuff said.
Lafayette wanted to know how old the lovely Susannah Reid on television was so Sandyballs got out his laptop and hacked into her webcam. Turned out she was about forty and we could just see her getting ready to go to bed after a strenuous morning on the Breakfast programme. Lafayette then wanted to see what Sharon Stone was doing but Sandyballs vetoed that on the grounds she might not be wearing any knickers and would look too rude.
Anyway, to the ramble. The NERDS climbed up and up the Downs to show Dio the view over the Weald which had all allegedly been covered in forest in Roman times. Dio was impressed; there hadn’t been many ancient Romans in New York and trees were a bit scarce in Manhattan so he kept taking photos like all Americans do. Matt told him that the Romans had felled most of the trees to build a fleet of ships to be led by Princess Diana when she sailed against the Spanish Armada, and Dio was even more impressed with Britain’s strange history.
Eventually, after a lot of slipping around in mud and stuff the NERDS arrived at The Anchor in Ringmer which was Bronco’s favourite watering hole ….. Except he wasn’t there. “ Has an old bald bloke called Bronco been in?” asked Lafayette. The barmaid looked blank and just then Bronco himself breezed in. “Oh you meant Molestor Malcolm, the old git; why didn’t you say? “ rejoined the barmaid, and we knew we’d got the right person.
Bronco looked in fine form having recently got over the NERDS’ Christmas dinner which was when we’d last seen him, so we all sat down and ordered huge lunches. Sandyballs said ( a propos of nothing) that Lafayette’s looks had declined in proportion to the further he had climbed up the Immigration management scale[Pot calling the kettle black! – see Sandyballs’ portrait. Ed.] and that’s why he had scared young Flintoff.
Lafayette was miffed at this and accused Sandyballs of having milked the system during his career by all the lavish expenditure he had incurred with his stays abroad and switching diplomatic residences etc. He implied he was as big a social climber as the Captain and was only having a big wedding for his daughter so that he could get Elton John to play the organ and have Tina Turner and Arthur Brown lead the dancing. Blows with handbags were exchanged and order was restored.
Meanwhile Bronco got on eating his portion of crab brain (he’s a connoisseur, you see) and said although he’d starved himself for several days he was prepared to share his cheese-board with the rest of the NERDS. He then mentioned he’d had a recent invitation to the royal wedding (the real one) in view of his special skills. In fact he was to be employed shovelling up all the horse shit after the royal couple’s procession had passed by. Quelle honneur!
Finally Bronco disappeared in his car with Matt who was taking him home to give him some Catholic, political Fenian lessons which might come in handy for when he did that afternoon’s shift (?) and the rest of us had to get the bus back from Ringmer which was uncomfortable since it was full of pre-pubescent school kids spreading their pre-pubescent miasmic stink everywhere and yelling “Oink” and “Poo” at each other.
However, another good ramble and thanks to Sandyballs for the route and the entertainment. Next ramble should be in the New Forest so we’ve invited Bronco along to pick up all the pony shit which might incommode us.
Bye for now.
Lafayette.
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