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Chairman's Chat...
22 October 2012

This piece is written from a train whisking lots of people from one of the beautiful extremities of British civilisation (Devon) to one of the busier and rather less attractive parts of the country that has fewer sheep than humans (and which also happens to have fewer inbred people. Or, at least, that's what the Sun would have you believe. It is a personal judgment call, but I suspect that there are as many six-fingered weirdos - whose wife and cousin happen to be the same person - in Birmingham as there are in Totnes).

Comparing Devon to Birmingham is a bit like comparing Secklow to another dragon boat team: one is stunning to look at with voluptuous curves, a stunning bottom, a warm welcome and a penchant for cider (and, let's be balanced and honest, a little bit simple in places...) and the other is a place that is pretty grim and you wouldn't go to out of choice, but is convenient for shops, poor articulation and rubbish football teams.

So, back to current circumstances: fat people on trains with a poor sense of personal hygiene. I thought that this was a condition that only applied to Londoners on the tube...but apparently not. There are so many rotund sweaty people clamouring to get away from the south west that it makes you wonder if the Lynx factory in Exeter has exploded, driving people away from the delicious smell of Africa whilst, at exactly the same instant, the outlets in Birmingham for Krispy Kreme, Burger King and 'Barry's Battered Lard Emporium' collectively announced their free all-you-can-eat offer. (Other doughnut, fast food and battered cuisine outlets are available)

For those that missed the end of season party: shame on you. You missed an emotionally-charged, drugs, sex...and those little mini-quiche things that consist of little more than pastry. What more could you want from a party...? Ok, three of those four things are a lie...but we did have music...and lots of fun...and, by the end, a very drunk Chairman. Something strange happens when people keep putting pints of lager in front of you:
1. You drink them all.
2. You start talking gibberish. And drink more.
3. You nearly fall in the canal whilst walking home. (Note to self: when walking home from a pub after six hours of drinking, take the route that doesn't involve nearby watercourses)
4. You miss out on Glastonbury tickets. This has nothing to do with being drunk per se, but perhaps it is karma.

I know what you are thinking about this garbled waffle: is there anything about dragon boat racing??

Don't be ridiculous.

Apart from this: Henley race 1 is in less than a month. An opportunity to freeze one's nuts off when you first get started but, after 35 minutes of frantic rhythmic activity, you feel really rather warm and quite satisfied. A bit like having sex in the snow. (If you are on top, presumably...)

   .: Comments

Nick Kell says :-
11 July 2012
""after 35 minutes of frantic rhythmic activity, you feel really rather warm and quite satisfied" ... you forgot to add "and in so much pain you can hardly stand"!... a bit like having sex in the snow AND being on the bottom AND with sharp rocks underneath!:)"

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