Jun 08

Escaping the world

A nurse drained all my blood away today (well it felt like that). She complimented me on my improved blood pressure (unusual apparently) and said I could have coffee and breakfast now. I decided to take her literally.

I walked down to The Mad Hatter in the sunshine and quickly found myself standing at the counter ordering a flat white and a croissant (ok, two croissants). I tried sitting inside on the little stools at the window but frankly they’re too uncomfortable and horribly fixed to the floor (dump them guys). So I moved outside and sat alongside all the other guys out there (not sure where all the women were but presumably working :-).

Before I knew it I had escaped the world. All I needed to do was watch it go by and so I did. The highlights were the elderly gentleman running (kinda) across the road in pink braces to keep his trousers up, the girl with bright yellow/pink trainers, the number of Chelsea tractors on the road, the improved standard of design on the side of vans and lorries these days and the ironic site of multiple Waitrose vans passing by the Waitrose supermarket extolling the virtues of shopping online.

I used to escape the world everyday when I was a student, I’d sit there reading about existentialism and nihilism. In the end settling on Simone de Beauvoirs flavour of existentialism whilst gently nudging aside the nihilism.

An hour passed along with a second cup of coffee and then as if waking from a sleep it became apparent I was still in the world and so needed to cross the road and get going. If I could do that everyday I would and I have decided to make that my goal as time passes by.

Feb 11

Frankie and Johnny, The Crypt, Canaletto at The National Gallery, The Elephants Head in Camden, The Roundhouse and finally Beth Orton

The day started well, a lazy Saturday morning in bed having breakfast and watching Frankie and Johnny (see my review here http://filmreviews.6fish.co.uk/film-review-frankie-and-johnny-1991/). I hadn’t seen this film for a while and my review from some years ago says it all really.

After a bit of mooching about the flat doing stuff it was time to set off for London. The first thing to notice was that there seemed to be a lot of snogging going on, on the trains, on the tube stations you name it. People celebrating Valentines Day early I guess.

Arrived at The Crypt at Trafalgar Square and settled down to a coffee, only had to wait a short while before my companion for the day arrived and soon after we set off for The National Gallery. I have a policy of trying to hit this gallery each time I go to London but only for short targeted visits (its too big to not target your visit). Its a national treasure and people should take as much advantage of it as they can. My target for this particular day was Canaletto.

canalettoRoom 38 of The National Gallery houses one of the great collections of work by Giovanni Antonio Canal (Canaletto). We spent twenty minutes walking around it and they were minutes well spent. Beautiful masterpieces by one of the worlds greatest painters. Most paintings I need to view close up and from a distance but these you need to stand real close and observe the wonderful details. Computer level accuracy of geometry years in advance of the technology. The added bonus for me was wonderful scenes of Venice which I visited many years ago now. Don’t think about it, go see these paintings, trust me.

A tube ride to Camden and we’re walking up Chalk Farm Road. Time for a drink in The Elephants Head and to catch the end of the rugby (England win obviously). A pint of fruity cider and we’re off again, next stop The Roundhouse.

theroundhouseI have to say that The Roundhouse is the most beautiful music venue I’ve visited. Once containing a railway turntable it has been saved from dereliction and turned into a beautiful venue for music. Worth a visit just to see the building alone. We however, had come for Beth Orton.

Beth Orton at such a large venue as The Roundhouse was unusual and I think even she was feeling the pressure. The first couple of songs where some of her more recent experimental work (so I’m told) and I’m not sure they worked that well in this venue the acoustics not helping. However she moved on to more familiar material and you start to feel the Beth Orton wave wash over you. At times during the concert it felt as though I had dived into a pool of Beth Orton and under the water felt completely obsorbed into her sound. Slowly you come up for air and the spell is broken but you get back out and then dive straight back in. She’s not just a pretty face/voice with good lyrics she understands music and that tells as you listen.

Before you know it we’re leaving Chalk Farm underground station and on our way home. A great day as usual Jas, thanks for that mate.

Dec 19

Jean-Michel Basquiat at The Barbican, Imperial War Museum, Parliament, Cafe in the Crypt and London Christmas decorations

basquiat01smallThe day started well. The sun came out and so it was a pleasant walk to the Station. Having tried to book my ticket online the day before (an appalling experience that resulted in no ticket) I had concluded the only thing to do would be to go to the ticket office and get a ‘human being’ to resolve the problem. Smart move, very nice man behind the counter, had my ticket in hand moments later. Online booking 0 v 1 Human being. This gave me some extra time to kill and so I settled down in the cafe nearby and enjoyed a chilled twenty minutes with coffee and Pain au chocolat.

Off to London and a couple of hours later I’m at Barbican Tube Station. I’d arranged to meet my companions in a cafe nearby but it was closed so fall back to the Pret a Manger. It served its purpose well and I can recommend the berry smoothie, excellent. The staff were also helpful and friendly so well done to them.

basquiat02smallIf you’re going to the Barbican I suggest you approach it from the Barbican Tube station, this is because the walk to the Barbican from there affords you an encounter with the Banksy tribute to Basquiat under the tunnel. Nice work Banksy.

Jean-Michel Basquiat at The Barbican. The first thing to say is that this is a big exhibition, don’t underestimate it. Its rare that I need two hours to take in an exhibition these days but this one demands it. Not only is it big but its tough, also, you’re going to have to work to get the best out of it.

Basquiat didn’t live long but the life he lived was filled not only with the social life that probably killed him but also with the culture he surrounded himself with. Art, Art history, Music, Poetry, jazz all apparent in his work. The strongest painting influence is Picasso, he studied him hard and it shows. Compare Picasso’s The Weeping Woman with his portraits to see how well he learned the graphic skill that Picasso brought to painting. The Jazz is all Charlie Parker and some of Basquiat’s work is visual jazz. Its a wonderful exhibition, I won’t try to tell you its easy viewing because it isn’t but is it worth the effort? You bet. Well done to The Barbican for this show which is very well presented and curated. There’s much more to say but go see the show.

basquiat03smallBirdy, Jas and myself then took a large change of gear and travelled to Lambeth North. I had a plan but first there was just time to visit the Imperial War Museum and see the Atrium newly done in 2014. A spectacular site with a Spitfire, V2 rocket and Harrier hanging from the ceiling! And a random tank just for fun. I sense Birdy and Jas may re-visit.

This is our second trip together and the first was blessed despite the bad weather. This second trip had slightly better weather but this next part got the worst of it. A short walk from Lambeth North Tube Station is Westminster Bridge and I wanted to come to Westminster bridge from the Southern side to see Parliament across the river. Big mistake, we got drowned walking there and when we got there Parliament was in total darkness and barely visible in the dark. Of course Big Ben is wrapped in scaffolding too (though we were aware of this in advance) the result being our/my first failure for our little Band of Brothers. Even the walk up to Trafalgar Square past Ten Downing Street was hard work and little fun.

Our relief came in the form of Cafe in the Crypt which despite its somewhat limited menu provided my compadres with some nice hot soup and a roll to bring them back to life. I drained as much energy as I could from a hot chocolate and a little something to eat. Sufficiently revived I revealed my last plan for the day to give my guests the chance to walk away but they showed fight and decided to take up the offer and it was a good call.

basquiat05smallbasquiat04smallWe took a tube to Picadilly Circus and walked up Regent Street to see the Christmas decorations. Turned Right at Beak Street and then left into Carnaby Street which got the Oooh from my companions. Congratulations to the Carnaby Street organisers this display is great and well worth the diversion for. We walked the full length enjoying the display whilst at the same time lamenting the commercialisation of the Street which was once alive and full of interest but is now just a place to shop. Back onto Regent Street we walked up to Oxford Street, taking in the decorations there and then along until we reached New Bond Street which also had a rather good display.

Many thanks to my companions Birdy and Jas, they surrender themselves to my guidance and hopefully it mostly works out for them :-) An excellent day.

Jul 23

Day of Culture with Birdy and Jas, including Mark Rothko and Chris Ofili

2017-07-23 16.57.49The day started well with a smile from a little boy on the train up to London. He was just getting bored so his mum sat him on the table in front of her so he could see her face but instead he saw mine, I smiled and he beamed back. He kept doing it for five minutes. We’ll never meet again but we had a little moment :-)

I’d picked a seemingly odd place to meet but those that know me know that that just means there’s a plan and I had a big one. Costa on the corner as you come out of Monument tube station isn’t the sort of place I’d normally select but this day it served my purpose. A short wait and suddenly my companions round the corner and we are a team.

2017-07-22 11.38.55I beat them there and so once they arrived we set off straight away as we had better places to visit. Heading towards the Thames we reached my first goal almost immediately as it’s on the left and just before London Bridge. Time has caught up with the Monument so that now it is almost entirely hidden by the large buildings around it, despite being a significant monument to an important part of Londons history. Built in the sixteen seventies it commemorates the Great Fire of London.

Alt: Wow – a monument at monument! – How cool is that.

We move on to London Bridge where we’re immediately provided with a spectacular view of the Shard, having already seen the The Walkie-Talkie behind us. Looking down the Thames we can see Tower Bridge and HMS Belfast. We cross the bridge (noting the new safety features).

2017-07-22 12.12.57We get to the corner of London Bridge station were we encounter a large group of Scooters causing excitement in one of our group.

Alt: Scooters on London Bridge – How on earth did Paul organise that?

We cross the road and all of a sudden we are in Borough Market, a great place to spend an hour in London despite recent events. My vegetarian friends where faced with rather more meat oriented stalls than they would have liked and the spit roasted pork turned stomachs I’m afraid. But overall the experience was great and they managed to find a nice Veggie Burger for lunch (I opted for large fancy cheese straws (more of that later)).

Alt: Borough Market – what an amazing place all tucked away, distressed by the whole cooking pig thing but loving the vegan cheese burgers

Time to find somewhere quiet to eat our lunch (surprisingly difficult to do, some tables and seating at Borough Market wouldn’t go a miss). Luckily I have that in hand and guide the troops to my secret spot. Before that we take a little detour to take in The Golden Hind II and encounter a couple of buskers one with a flaming trumpet.

Alt: Famous boat on route to ‘chilled out’ eating area (not the cutty sark but actually the golden hind). Highly amused by the man with the flaming trumpet and concerned about the fingers of the guitar bashing busker!!

20170722_130019Just as the rain starts to get a little unpleasant we reach my secret spot and have a nice french style outdoor bench to sit and eat our food with excellent tree cover to take care of the rain. Its zen like nature turns out to be a little more zen than even I thought as our in-house zen master discovers in the undergrowth a Buddha

Alt: Birdy remarking on how cool it was to find chill out eating area and to be sheltered from rain by the trees, Dad going into his Buddhist conditionality thing prior to discovering Buddha himself sitting opposite in the undergrowth – cosmic!!

With the weather clearing a little its time to make a dash for Tate Modern, we make good progress and soon find ourselves at The Wobbly Bridge (The Millennium Bridge). We’re distracted by workers feeding a squirrel before diving into Tate Modern.

Alt: The guy interacting with the squirrel outside the Tate Modern

We’re all a bit short of coffee by now and so decide to do the cafe first and then the gallery.

Alt: Coffee in the Tate Modern

2017-07-22 14.15.23Despite my dodgy friend (you know who you are) advising me the Rothko room didn’t exist anymore I persisted and found that Tate Modern has done a very nice job of updating the Rothko room since I last went. The Rothkos here are old friends of mine and it was nice to see them once again. In the past I have seen them with more light than they are currently allowed and so this encounter was different to my others. The feeling that you are in a church of art still persists though. A free experience in London such as this should always be checked out.

Alt: Rothko – birdy didn’t quite ‘get it’ – Dad did (kind of) and Paul in his element (definitely did get it)

Having left Tate Modern and begun to walk along South Bank towards Embankment I was attacked by two waves, the first was small but managed to get over the wall and spray me, the second much bigger (as tall as a mountain) climbed so high I darted left out of its way (lightning reactions me) but strangely it didn’t manage to get over the wall and so there was no spray. I survived.

Alt: Seeing Paul move like lightning to avoid wave on riverside (one of Birdy’s highlights although she did find the guys on the bike trying to avoid being hit by the flying pigeon and the lad tripped over by the tree pretty amusing as well)

2017-07-22 14.45.17As we were making good progress I decided it would be nice to sit and watch the river for a short while. This afforded a spectacular view of St. Pauls, The Leadenhall Building and The Walkie-Talkie building. Birds amused us as did my remaining posh cheese straws.

Alt: Sharing cheese straws on the bench (with the surprisingly zesty mustard seeds)

The rain began to fall a little heavier so we decided we better make some more progress. Hoping we’d get to The Golden Jubilee bridges we stepped up our pace but by the time we reached The National Theatre it was fast becoming a downpour so it was time to dash inside, grab a coffee and see if the rain would burn out. We let ‘Grandad’ Jas out of our sight for a brief moment and he wandered off on his own with Birdy having to chase him down and bring him back to safety.

Alt: Sheltering from rain in National theatre café (dad wandering off with the drinks in a world of his own)

Helpfully the rain relented and we were able to cross the river and make our way to Trafalgar Square. I had one more surprise left. For those that don’t know, Chris Ofili has a new work on display at The National Gallery. This is free to all visitors and if you have a spare twenty minutes in London I recommend you check it out. Commissioned by the Clothworkers Company Ofili collaborated with the Dovecot Tapestry Studio to have one of his designs handwoven into a spectacular tapestry. The tapestry took five weavers three years to make. Ofili has created a modern masterpiece and you all have the unique opportunity to see it in its original conception before it moves on and I suspect never quite appears so brilliantly as this.

Alt: National Gallery – checking out the tapestry (nice touch from Paul to give us the story behind the painting and the 3 year project) – also really nice gesture from Paul to buy us both a postcard of the painting

2017-07-22 16.02.43 2017-07-22 16.02.37 2017-07-22 16.02.29








image1I take them to London I show them the finest art available to man and what gets them fired up? Yoda floating in the air, facepalm.

Alt: Dad interacting with Yoda – How the hell is Yoda ‘floating on air’

Its a short walk to Covent Garden from Trafalger Square and so we decide to head over whilst regaling our youngest team member with stories from our past visits to Covent Garden.

Alt: Covent Garden – Birdy hearing reminiscences from both Paul and Dad about their Covent Garden experiences.

20170722_165008After a little wander we get some well deserved drinks to finish the day.

Alt: Fancy drinks at CG (not sure about the cucumber though) and a whole discussion about Rhubarb

Despite the weather a wonderful day in London with fun all the way along. Our paths were blessed and we saw London as everyone should see it, wonderful and resplendent. Many thanks to my companions for making the day perfect.

May 02

The evanescent Howard Hodgkin at the National Portrait gallery and the man who walks his cat on a lead

Urgently needing a coffee having missed buying one on Brighton train station we dived into Cafe in the Crypt on Trafalgar Square, always worth remembering if you’re in the area. On to the exhibition..

2017-05-02 10.41.27I haven’t been to the National Portrait Gallery since Mario Testino was on some years ago. But Howard Hodgkin will draw me to any gallery that’s prepared to show his work. I hadn’t expected this exhibition to be quite as large as it was but pleasantly so. Its just right and the work is, to put it mildly, beautiful. Hodgkins painting style is close to my own and when I stand in front of them I recognise the language he’s expressing with each brush stroke. There are a surprisingly large number of paintings that can be viewed with a representational eye though his work becomes increasingly abstract as time passes. Personal favourites are Portrait of the artist 1984-7, First Portrait of Terence McInerney 1981, Lawson, Underwood & Sleep 1977-80 and Mr and Mrs E.J.P. 1969-73. But to be honest I ‘ve had to slash that list for fear of re-typing the catalogue.

This is a wonderful exhibition, Hodgkin is one of our great painters and everyone should rush to see this show.

Some criticisms for the National Portrait Gallery. First, brief your reception staff on the exhibitions you’re currently running. None of them had a clue! Slightly depressing. Two, the chairs in your cafe downstairs are VERY uncomfortable, the sides jam you into the chair and stop you from sitting with a good posture. Three and the most important, I couldn’t buy a paperback catalogue and so had to pay ten pounds more for a hardback one. Not all of us are part of the metropolitan elite and so that ten pounds hurts. On top of which I personally prefer a softback version and don’t want to HAVE to buy a hard back version. Slap yourselves around the face and come to the realisation you’ve made a mistake about this. Even your staff know I’m right.

After Hodgkin my friend Millie and I walked through Covent Garden revisiting old memories until we found a rare spot of tranquility in London. At the end of Neal Street is a nice little bakery and if you happen to be lucky and get to sit in the window you can watch the world go by. Indeed, you can if you’re lucky, watch a man walking his cat on a lead. He’ll probably be posing for photographs as the tourists love it.

Walking back to Covent Garden we stumble across the Moomin shop and of course have to step in and buy a couple of bits and bobs. We’re all moomin’ed up now.

We continue on our way and find ourselves at Embankment Tube station a little drowned by now and ready to go home. An uneventful train ride sees us safely home and because its still early we decide to have a drink at Grand Central. It scores a big hit with me as it sells Makers Mark, two of those and a little Jazz music finishes the day perfectly.

As always Millie a lovely day and many thanks for your company.

Apr 18

We’re on our way, we’re on our way

2017-04-17 16.54.26I should confess from the start that I’m an Ipswich fan but having lived in Brighton for thirty years. I’m one of those rare footy fans that has two teams for a good reason and so I’m happy to support Brighton whenever they’re not playing Ipswich.

Two years ago a friend of mine asked me if I would go to Brighton football matches with him and I agreed. At the time they weren’t doing that well but the experience of being in the ground on the day is always worth doing if you can and so it all began. I began to work my magic and before very long we had started to win matches and climb the table. But that first season it was not to be, an injury crisis mid way through and a further one in the playoffs meant we experienced the bitter taste of defeat in the play-offs.

The second season kicked off and everyone was wondering had the squad been damaged by the previous seasons experience. It didn’t take long to see that was not the case. Almost from the start of the season they had that glow that some teams have when they’re at their zenith. It’s a rare privilege to watch a team at those times ( I watched it at Ipswich in the late seventies and haven’t seen it since, until now). All season they’ve been confident, relentlessly passing the ball around the opposition and somehow, always somehow scoring when it mattered (except against Ipswich of course 😉 who managed a draw).

I think we all knew that they were going up when they crushed Norwich (scum) 5-0 and of course for me that was a great day. I had been at the 1998 game where Ipswich thrashed Norwich by the same score and the memories flooded back. Dancing with the Brighton fans in the aisles of the North stand while the scum were battered on the pitch was a major highlight of the season.

My friend and I have been on a journey together, the highs and the lows and yesterday it all came together to give us a wonderful finish to our journey (we can’t afford to support them next year). I didn’t doubt they would win this game and in truth they never looked like it despite faltering slightly in the last quarter of an hour. When the final whistle blew we shook hands with tears in our eyes and just stood in the stand and watched the fans invade the pitch, we wanted to take in the scene and a wonderful sight it was too. Quietly, at the end, we crept on to the pitch just to stand on the corner flag and say we were there. Chris my old mate. Nothing will ever take this from us, two years of memories culminating in glory!

Mar 05

Paul Nash at Tate Britain

This was a trip that nearly didn’t happen. My friend Millie and her son David were due to go but just the day before they realised they were too ill to travel. So in the morning I decided it was still necessary for me to go (seemed a shame to waste the tickets), however I had one last dice to throw and so rang up my friend Ric and suggested he and his girl Erica come along instead. They had a little think and then decided to do it. Hurrah! Its easy to talk existentialism not so easy to do it, so well done Ric and Erica, good decision.

We made our way to London and met at Victoria. We walked down to Tate Britain (drifting slightly off track as I usually do) and before we knew it we were walking around the Paul Nash exhibition.

Paul Nash is someone I’ve been aware of for most of my life and here and there over the years I have seen one or two pieces in exhibitions, museums, galleries etc. But I have never seen a full show of his work until now so this seemed like the moment to step up and take a view on his work.


There are masterpieces from this period including Totes Meer (Dead Sea) 1940-41 and The Menin Road 1919. These show the darkness and destruction of war and in the case of The Menin Road efectively define World War I. Totes Meer (Dead Sea) reflects Nash’s Surrealism influences as it combines World War II machinery with a landscape Nash painted during his none war years. There are some excellent other works that show the reality of war and Nash’s rather unique skill (though I noticed Georgia O’Keefe also does it in a previous show) of painting night scenes adds to the darkness and despair of war.


Before World War I, between the two wars and then after World War II Nash is busy. He paints landscape by default and there are plenty of those. The colour palette contrasting radically with the war palette. He shows influences from De Chirico and Surealism to cubism and for me Braque rather than Picasso. His interests are diverse from stone circles to tree trunks (which he paints badly). There is a noticeably architectural influence throughout his work and this serves him well when he’s expressing himself through surealism. There’s a wink to Van Gogh towards the end of the show to finish off.

2017-02-27 00.35.03This is a good show, it covers the full range of Paul Nash’s work and gives an excellent feel for what he is about. Some of what he is about is what he’s interested in but his life was bookended by two wars and so some of his work was brought about by circumstance. With Nash the effect seems to have been very noticeable and there is a stark difference between the work he produced during the wars and the work he produced outside of war.

Finally a small mention for Eileen Agar Paul Nash’s partner. There is some of her work in the show and interesting it is too. So look out for her.

Tate Britain rather failed after the show. It clearly wasn’t able to handle two large shows at once (David Hockney is also on) and so the cafe and book shop were swamped. I did the book shop but we skipped the cafe in favour of going anywhere else.

2017-02-24 17.06.072017-02-24 16.52.172017-02-24 16.52.01A pleasant if trafficy walk along the Thames brought us to the very imposing Houses of Parliament. We dived inland a little and got ourselves to St. James’s Park as quickly as we could (my friends are not city folk and prefer countryside). This proved a good move as the cafe there was nicely easy to navigate and so before long we had a nice seat over looking the pond with ducks, other birds and even squirrels to entertain. A pleasant walk through the park brought us to Buckingham Palace and a short walk from there found us in Victoria station ready to go home. Because of our useless privatised railway system we were required to stop at Victoria for a couple of hours until we could travel and so made the most of it by having a couple of beers in the pub there which I have drunk in many times over the past thirty five years. After a couple of beers Ric and I were ready to go home but Erica wanted more beer, it took us a while to make her see sense (;-)) and catch the next train home. Very nice day, thanks for that guys. Also thanks to Millie for my ticket!

Dec 20

The sliding doors between a baked beans world and 1970’s pool

Like a scene from Reservoir Dogs we strolled up Lewes Road until we reached The Labour Club, cues in hand. The door opened and as we stepped forward we were transported back in time to the nineteen seventies. The women behind the counter monitoring the door. The corrider leading to the bar and then in all its 1970’s glory the club itself. For a few hours I was transported back to my youth spent in working mens labour clubs in Suffolk. Cheap beer, terrible décor, several men sitting alone at seperate tables drinking beer. The pool table, worn almost into the ground and the compulsory dart boards. All it needed was Slade on the sound system and for authenticity, smoke, swirling around and covering every surface with tar.

The baked bean had to admit he’d had an easy life thus far. Having been picked and seperated from his siblings (a little traumatic) he’d found himself swimming in sauce and although a little strange at first he’d quickly got used to it and quite frankly life seemed good now. It was about to take a turn for the worse.

One day laying on his back swirling in the sauce with his mates the bean suddenly saw a small shaft of light from above. Rapidly the shaft grew bigger and soon the whole roof had bean somehow stripped away to reveal a blue sky and small white clouds. Moments later everything went swoosh and before he knew it he was in a saucepan and could feel things heating up. It was just about to get a little too warm when again the pan was lifted up and Bean and all his mates where sploshed onto a strange surface they’d never seen before (toast). Feeling a little rattled at this point he remained motionless and waited for what was next (big mistake).

Moments later he was flying through the air on some strange contraption with some of the strange surface underneath him. The lights all went out and he felt himself being pressed inwards and downwards by mysterious forces. In the dark there was nothing he could do except go with the flow. Soon things became very unpleasant as he was attacked from all sides by strange forces seemingly intent on destroying him, whilst relentlessly being pushed and pressed downwards. He passed out.

When Bean came too he seemed to be surrounded by a strange brown mess and couldn’t move in any direction. The smell was horrendous and he couldn’t stop gagging. Things stayed like this for a good few hours before suddenly he felt lots of pressure from behind him pushing him further downwards. All of a sudden all the brown mess in front of him broke away from him and like a rollercoaster they seemed to whoosh forward. Briefly there was a short shaft of light and then darkness once again. Sleep overwhelmed him.

Bean was suddenly woken by everything around him shaking this way and that, he could hear strange gutteral noises and generally was disoriented. The shaking stopped, his whole world seemed to turn upside down and then all of a sudden something soft and pink seemed to be pushing against him, it pushed and pushed until eventually a swirl of white stuff flowed from it. Bean was dislodged by this and so reached out and grabbed hold of the pink object. Suddenly he found himself going backwards, there was a slight sucking sound as the pink object with Bean still clinging on seemed to pull out of the darkness and all of a sudden Bean was surrounded by light. Still clinging on to the pink object he looked up to see a man who exclaimed “What the fuck”.

Frank the Zebra as in the film Sliding Doors had a game of two halves, the first being sublime and the second being shit (the brown messy kind). Beaten.

Mr Angry stepped up and picked off his man without too much fuss. Leaving him with plenty of time to discuss beans and such.
6fish was sent into the breach and still there was no sign of a win. A half decent opponent was good enough to see him off.

Time to throw in our best player, Muscles, just as in previous weeks he was too strong for his opponent, and so to the final match.

Big Unit, given the heavy responsibility of finishing the match off did just that.

The Labour Club are unlucky to be where they are and we only just scraped by them but scrape by them we did.

Dec 13

Lord 6fish and his earls defeat the old boys at Castle field

fieldThe Field Sparrow awoke to see the dawn slowly rise in the east. He blinked and then began to sing to the sun. The sound of his singing rang across the field and found its way to Lord 6fish, standing on the edge of the field, soon to be a field of battle. Lord 6fish had summoned his earls to the defence of the castle and as he looked across the field and listened to the Field Sparrow his earls arrived, one by one, ready for battle.

A horde of Old Boys had landed on the shore over night and were now marching on the Castle, intent on inflicting a heavy defeat. They appeared on the horizon enveloped in mist and darkness, the lord of Dementors had come, emaciated dementor had terrorised many in the past and his worshipers followed unable to escape his influence. With him came darkness, a mist swirled around him and a cold breeze froze the very air he breathed, rain fell through the mist and the ground froze at his feet.

Lord 6fish set out his battle plans, with so few men, he had to marshall his forces well and began the battle by strengthening his left wing. The old boys clearly hoped to out flank Lord 6fish but he met the threat with Earl Frank of the Zebra on the left. Who, first into battle for his lord, laid waste to the emaciated dementors sneek cavalry attack on the left. No further threat would come from the left that day. Then the emaciated dementor threw in his youngest and best forces to attack down the centre and they wiped out Earl Big Unit before retreating to their lord.

Now came a sudden attack on the right and Lord 6fish had to hurriedly send in Earl Toddler to hold the line and this he did. The Emaciated Dementors forces were beginning to show signs of fatigue at this point and so The Emaciated Dementor himself came forward to do battle and Lord 6fish met his onslaught in the center of the battlefield. Black, cold rain and mist surrounded them as they fought and The Emaciated Dementor struck first wounding Lord 6fish, indeed Lord 6fish was on the brink of defeat when The Emaciated Dementor faltered and Lord 6fish rallied and fought him back. But the darkness came once again and enveloped Lord 6fish and when it passed he was beaten laying on the battlefield for all to see.

As Lord 6fish lay dying on the battlefied he could hear the song of the Field sparrow again and just two feet away he could see its nest surrounded by the dead from the day. As he contemplated his defeat he heard a final cry and saw Earl Muscles crash into the remaining forces of The Emaciated Dementor. They broke under the onslaught and the last sight Lord 6fish saw was Earl muscles routing the enemy from the field. Victory.

Good performance from everyone this week, winners and losers.

Dec 06

WARNING!: Contains extreme, abusive language punctuated by Surreal avant garde writing!

id_027_webThe hairdryer was having a pleasant dream, he’d been asleep for a couple of hours and he’d just got to the good bit. A tall leggy blonde was having a shower, she’d finished and after she’d dried herself down with a towel in front of him she reached out and grabbed hold of him. He was expecting to just do the usual hairdrying thing and so prepared himself to get turned on, but no, not this time, this time he was brought down low and he suddenly realised he was about to be a very lucky hairdryer. The blond turned him on and he blew and blew as hard as he could.. Woah, he suddenly awoke and found himself flying throught the air, oddly still heading in the direction of a cunt but this time it was the fucking useless cunt called Frank the cunt Zebra who like a twat had just played the worst fucking useless pile of shit pool you’ve ever seen in your life only to win for fuck sake!

This was followed by (author pauses, he’s a big man and is still new to the team, deep breathe, don’t hurt me dude) our big cunt who steps up and promptly loses. Cunt.

1-1, so we send in the cunts muscles, he literally twats around and by some fucking miracle wins, the cunt.

2-1, time to send in the old cunt, fucking useless, hardly worthy of being called a cunt.

2-2 time for a bit of angry cunt, he takes it all the way. I mean he takes it all the way to the last frame, the cunt, fucking useless tosser. But by some goddam miracle he wins the game and the cunts have prevailed for another week.

The whole fucking team are a useless bunch of cunts and all the bastards who didn’t show up are cunts too. You’re all fucking cunting wankers, shitting fucking time wasting parasitical bastards who look like cunts, smell like cunts and act like cunts.

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