NERDS' Ramble No. 298 - 26th Sept. 2014.
Those Present – Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs, Matt, The Bish,
Curly Clarke.
The Bramble Ramble.
First of all an
important announcement to all NERDS. It will soon be (numerically speaking) the
300th ramble. Since, however,
Lafayette failed to notice this in good time to enable everyone to
organise the mass celebrations which are obviously appropriate for this huge
event, the NERDS steering committee has made the following decision. October's
and November's rambles will be respectively nos. 299 and 301. Ramble No.
300 will be held next May when everyone has had time to consider the gravity of
the occasion and been able to agree on a venue. Sorry, B.T. Your suggestion of
Marrakesh was shot down in flames. The other NERDS didn't like the idea of
provoking ISIL by having a big piss-up in a muslim country however cheap the
Easyjet tickets might be. (Nice try, though!)
Anyway, on to
ramble 298. There was an exceptional attendance today with the Bish and Curly
Clarke both gracing us with their presences. Paco was still making his
ambitious climb up the Border Control career greasy pole at Gatwick. We hope to
hear that he will soon be in over-all contol and ridding the country of
absolutely every single illegal
immigrant who ever dared show his filthy face..... rant, rant don't get me started. Anyway Paco wasn't with
us that day.
Sandyballs has got
us a new route beginning at Cooksbridge,
but first we had to meet S.B. at Lewes
to know where we were going.
Everybody put on
baseball caps to greet (and confuse) him. The signs were ominous when we saw
he'd got an ordnance survey map with him. How far were we going then? No
matter, the weather, albeit overcast, was warm and the countryside round there
was very pleasant and er.. pastoral so we set off optimistically.
First of all we
got lost a bit in a field then got our bearings somewhere in the vicinity
of Hamsey Manor (Very poshe and just Lafayette's style).
Then the Bish started
collecting conkers until we got to a field with a couple of rams in it who were
obviously worried we had designs on their sheep until Froggy assured them in
welsh that we hadn't.
Matt, meanwhile was dancing around announcing it was “
Touch a Tit “ Day and trying to tweak everyone's nipples. ( Ah, yes, we do have
lots of fun on NERDS' rambles.) And after all this excitement we tried to cross
a small bridge into another field and got hopelessly enmeshed in brambles
(hence the name of the ramble this month)[ not to be confused with the 2009 July Bramble Ramble]. So many fantastic events we were
nearly dying of excitement by this stage.
Shortly after we
went into a bit of a wood in the vain hope we might just discover the missing
girls which Boko Haram had abducted – but it appeared they hadn't yet got as
far as East Sussex so no black mistresses for us that day. On, on to a
remarkable church
(Our Lady of the Touchy Tits) which had a very interesting
pool infront of it where Our Lady used to drown witches whenever she got pissed
off at people trying to touch her tits. Matt thought he would chance his arm
(or finger) at this since it was his special day (T.a.T. Day) but was met at
the front door by our Lady herself who tried to lure him in with promises of
coffee and sex, and with the obvious intention of converting him into a
Protestant. Matt sensibly fled while the rest of the NERDS thought he ought to
have stayed with the sex he knew (the right handed sort) rather than mix up his
religious fantasies like this.Yes, Matt, I know, that your solicitor is
currently looking for work.
We walked down the
lane from the church and Lafayette had his photo taken in what looked like a
large African hut
at the side of the road, (Lagos House). 'No Boko Haram girls
in there,' he reported disappointedly; 'Our Lady up the road must have drowned
them all as witches in a fit of pique.'
At this point
Froggy and Curly were comparing their Burger House shirts which were identical
except that Froggy was complaining that Curly had been using him as a sartorial role model and was trying to
dress exactly as he did (as if Curly gave a toss). Meanwhile Sandyballs took
off his jacket and revealed his own Gay Cyclists tee shirt which had a much
more elaborate pattern and put Froggy's dull black tee shirt quite to shame.
Eventually we
reached Barkham Cross where the Royal Oak beckoned and so we all went in.
Not a
bad pub where we all sat outside in the pleasant garden and stuffed ourselves.
The food and drink were excellent – most of us had lamb and then pudding and
then wine and then cheese boards and then more wine until we were replete.
Lafayette
went inside to fill up the glasses and noticed a poor, old, scrawny cat
drinking water out of a dog's bowl and bouncing off the furniture. In answer to
his enquiry, the landlord said proudly, “ We're twinned with some pub up in
Shropshire that had a strange dog who kept coming in and colliding with the
furniture, so now we've got our own Gatto Ciego who does the same. He's quite
sweet really but unfortunately the mice run rings round him. Lafayette was
impressed.
After lunch we did
some more exciting walking through pleasant fields etc and got really lost once
again although S.B. saved us once again with his map.
Eventually we reached the
Rainbow at Cooksbridge where we sat in their “Secret Garden”
and drank some
more and where Froggy told us a tale about a man who had had a terrible
accident and had then had experienced multiple orgasms all day long.
Most of
the NERDS couldn't work out whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, but
at least it got rid of the boring need to talk to women and buy them presents
etc. so maybe it had its advantages .
Down the road we
went to get the train back from Cooksbridge, but desastre!
The 16 20 failed to
stop leaving us stranded at least two miles from Lewes!
So we just waited for
the next train (there were two an hour) and chatted and sobered up a bit – but
not too much 'cos we were enjoying ourselves.
Back at Lewes
everyone except Matt and The Bish piled
into The Lansdowne Arms and Curly introduced us all to a new drink – Black
sambuca – which he'd encountered during his many travels.
Lafayette took to
this quite quickly but was a bit wary that its colour might unleash some sort
of magic and give him multiple orgasms for ever, especially when the young,
pretty barmaid looked at him cutely and asked him if he was pre-loading before
a big night out. “No thanks,” said Lafayette, “ Too much effort at my age; I
prefer playing bowls and polishing my airguns.” The barmaid had the grace to
look disappointed.
So another good
ramble. Something new and different for which thanks go to Sandyballs. Remember
the juggling of the numbers with the next couple of rambles and after Christmas
we shall probably go somewhere exciting for the 300th, Incha' Allah,
as they say in christian countries. Lafayette thought he'd get Matt to consult
Our Lady of the Touchy Tits in Cooksbridge for inspiration. After all he's a
good Catholic boy and she might well tell him where to go.
That's all for
now.
Lafayette.
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