Unbelievable Flying Objects

On returning to the Local after Barton Beer Festival the Regulars refused to give any credence to the accounts of some of their number, particularly those who had consumed their bodyweight in ale, of the mysterious lights and visions they claimed to have seen whilst taking some particularly unfresh air out the back of the Local.

The fact that Tattoo, of the spectacular eyesight and aftermath of his 'special lager' was particularly vociferous in his 'sighting' did little to sway the rest of the Regulars' stoic scepticism.

However, it became all too apparent the following day that the Regulars had, categorically, been overly hasty in their dismissal of such sightings when Spudgirl and Tubthumper were rendered incredulous at the unbelievably plausible invasion of the skies above their street.

Fest (also known as Fake Tim's Adventures in Gobbyland)

Excitement amongst the Regulars (or maybe just for Gobby after she managed a sneak preview inside the tent) had reached fever pitch (no reference to the far less exciting event of the cup final that weekend intended) as one of the highlights in Barton's somewhat sparse social calendar came round again and the Regulars readied themselves for:




















After an initial exploratory foray on the opening night the Regulars prided themselves on their level of sobriety especially considering their observations of others as they left the festival ground for the Local.

For one, they did not skid out of control round the corner into a police car to the words of,
"That wasn't very clever, was it?' although Ol' Blue Eyes did declare his sympathies for young unfortunate in question as, judging by the carnage surrounding the festival cider bar, he must have been,

'The only young lad in Barton that evening not p*ssed out of his head.'

Nor did they, on reaching the Local, suffer the same indignity of another festival goer and were successful in seeing the evening out without vomiting through their fingers.

The enthusiasm for real ale did vary amongst the Regulars with Ol' Blue Eyes pointing out no matter how many beer tokens Gobby saw fit to thrust on Jordan it was still,

"Like pushing a copy of the Watchtower on a non-believer."

The following day, subsequent to a tour of Bennett's Brewery and a pre-festival tipple:









The Regulars convened in the park for their second phase of attack, their numbers swelled somewhat by Dr Slim Carbuncle and the Swedish Librarian plus their offspring and Fake Tim and Never-Buys-a-T-shirt Mike. Anticipation for an afternoon of rioutous gratification was riding high, particularly for Tattoo who was unable to contain his enthusiasm for his once a year indulgence in the 'special lager' on tap habitually resulting in his so-called highly inappropriate "Legs like Douglas Bader" effect.

After a glorious afternoon:


























The Regulars feigned sufficient sobriety to return to the Local where further quantities of 'brave juice' were quaffed, so much so that Tubthumper, in an unprecedented display of boldness and to the utter disbelief of the Regulars, some of whom had already begun to paint themselves white to deflect the blast, dared to defy Spudgirl in insisting on one more for the road and with complete disregard for their following day's 57 point action plan.

Needless to say, such a foolhardy action inevitably saw him banished to the dock.














After the most pleasurable day the Regulars eventually felt it was time to set out home, if only to ensure Gobby did not explode from a terrifying excess of beer consumption.

Fatigue

As the Regulars made the most of the wealth of opportunities open to them over the Bank Holiday weekend by proportionally increasing the amount of leisure time devoted to the Local, Hamish did, on one occasion, go so far as to apologise for his previous night's performance due to his being 'very tired'.

To which the Regulars did comment they had indeed noticed he had been,

"As tired as a newt".

Party Poopers

As the Regulars tried to evade an event wholly unsuitable for ones of their progressing age of a 21st birthday party Ol' Blue Eyes recalled his previous lack of enjoyment at the 18th.

Gobby felt the need to declare,

"I don't remember seeing you there."

To which Hamish did explain,

"Actually, no, we were at the 19th. We were late."

Hair-raising

As Gobby complained at the devastation and ensuing tantrum in the bathroom as Billy Idle attempted to clean his THREE hairbrushes, the rest of the Regulars could only surmise he must need one for each hair.

Undeterred, Billy declared, whilst he may now be a follicular shadow of his former self, in his more luxuriant (although still ginger) days, so fixated on his coiffeur had he been that, should the wind have been blowing from an unfavourable direction, he would be compelled to walk backwards to the pub.

Accessorising

Hamish, the well-document miser, impressed with the particularly cheap bike he had been successful in acquiring did, conversely, lament the expediture in essential accessories prior to use.

As the Regulars predicted:

"Wheels."

"Brakes."

"Gears."

"Bell."

"Pedals."

Visionary

The Regulars admired Billy Idle's new glasses but could not help but wonder as to why one so unaccustomed to fresh air and the outside world as the infrequent Daywalker himself would have gone to the bother of a pair that react to such rarely encountered sunlight.

Tattoo, the especially optically challenged of the Regulars remarked that he too had been to Specsavers recently adding,

"And guess who I bumped into?"




"EVERYONE!!"

Sanctuary

After years subjected to the falsehoods, fabrications and perjury that amount to many an unsolicited encounter with Tweety, (see March 2006 - Big Bands, November 2006 - Tickets, April 2008 - Mythomania and January 2009 - Jump(er)ing into 2009) the Regulars, hiding round a corner of the Local, believed they had escaped this particular night's onslaught.

They were not however prepared for the fact that the recently incumbent Landlord and Landlady, Buzz Lightyear & Marlene, less accustomed to such heights of lunacy would too seek refuge in the far corners of their own establishment and recount the evening's magical mystery tour of a mind unable to disentangle reality from fantasy and inebriation with the declaration of having,

"Never heard such rubbish in 16 years of the pub trade!"

Nothing the Regulars could say in reassurance, however, summed up the situation quite as eloquently as the astute observation of the barmaid in informing the Regulars that the aforementioned delusional liar had,

"Gone to take his mouth for a sh*t."

Steaming

After a splendidly blurry middle-aged afternoon of beer and steam trains:
























Many ales later a group of the Regulars returned to the Local somewhat the worse for wear, and not just in reference to their anoraks.

As Gobby tried hard to sober up and Tubthumper and Spudgirl didn't bother, Jordan suggested a strong black coffee.

To which Hamish immediately objected declaring:

"The last thing we need is a wide awake drunk!"

Overbearing

Having finally recovered from the ridicule of the Regulars for his 'Dragon's Den' moment of the 'modified steering wheel for the blind' Billy Idle realised a trip to the opticians was long overdue and Gobby set about booking him in.

Unsure as to the exact whereabouts, Gobby felt reassured that Billy would be able to navigate himself there successfully when the more than helpful receptionist asked if he 'knew where the big McDonalds was'. Alarm bells started to ring on the following direction of diagonally opposite next to Greggs and, as the final coordinates of between there and Starbucks came to light, Gobby implored her to stop that the last thing one of Billy's metabolic rate required was 3 junk food points of triangulation.

Less than Total Recall

As the blurred recollections of the Whitby Weekend began to materialise Gobby tried to make sense of the eclectic ramblings, often punctuated by the words 'Bloody SatNav!' and illegible scrawl accompanying the hazy memories of the Regulars. A task made all the more painful due to the acknowledgment of the fact that, during the aforementioned she had had to be taken to the toilet by her mother.

Nevertheless, an array of vignettes soon poured forth starting with the Dark Lord's account of his own recent memories of the melting pot of the North East coast and the incompatible mixing of cultures stating:

"It was so weird: there were some Goths, some transvestites and some just from Whitby."

In their defence it was pointed out that such specimens may only have been trying to escape the gene pool. A viewpoint quashed by the Dark Lord declaring they were definitely,

"In the shallow end."

Followed by the Regulars' marvelling of Tubthumper's party piece of swallowing whole eggs for breakfast in the B&B which he depicted as,

"Like an oyster but much less orgasmic."

Not forgetting Spudgirl's valiant attempt to insinuate to one of Hamish's colleague that he was taking her away for the weekend despite the comic irony being somewhat lost on one so humourless and described as "stony-faced in a leather jacket - bit like the terminator but 4 foot 9 or as Hamish eloquently put it,

"More like termite."

Followed by comments so randomly recollected such as, unlike Tattoo's incident with a far too tempting banister, when Billy Idle found himself inadvertently bleeding and Ol' Blue Eyes enquired,

"Has one of your freckles bust?"

Or the non-attributable exchange of,

"Do you use a dictaphone?"

"No, I use my finger like everyone else."

Plus, after some unpleasant spillage,

"Can't you turn it inside out?"
"No it's got spots on it."
"I've seen that before down the GUM clinic."

After which hilarious recollections plus the amount of involuntary good humour on her part for the duration of the weekend Spudgirl complained that she couldn't cope with any more laughter. Tubthumper reassured her that she would soon have a couple of weeks off from such mirth in the following succinct exchange:

"Where are we going?"

"Your parents!"

Hardening Off

As Tattoo's second attempt boomed, Spudgirl had to sacrifice one specimen and Billy & Gobby suffered some gastropodan damage the Regulars eagerly awaited the approaching planting out phase of the pumkinathon...

Subjection

On a rare alcohol-devoid occasion and in the confined space of a moving vehicle some of the Regulars saw fit to allow their thoughts and conversation to drift to a rarely encountered state of the musings of intellectual sobriety.

That was until Spudgirl firmly put down a steel-toecapped safety-booted foot worthy of the potato store declaring:

"So we have one mathematician, one linguist, one scientist and ONE VERY BORED PERSON in the car!"

The 12 Ways of Breakfast

As if the pace of life in the Shire were not sufficiently languid the Regulars whiled away the best part of an hour's drinking time devising alternative lyrics to a well-known song, by the end of which there was more spilt drool that beer on the table of The Local:











On the first day of breakfast my Little Chef made for me:

12 button mushrooms
11 cups of coffee
10 rashers of bacon
9 pork sausage
8 fried potatoes
7 black puddings
6 plum tomatoes
5 onion rings
4 pieces of toast
3 fried eggs
2 hash browns

and a plate of baked beans on the side...

While the rest of the Regulars went for a much-needed lie-down after such an ordeal unfortunately Tattoo may have taken the process a step too far...

Happy Birthday Girl!

After months of anticipation the time for the Whitby Weekend to celebrate Spudgirl's 40th birthday finally arrived.

Between them the Regulars made this a special and memorable experience for Spudgirl throughout although were often in grave danger of losing her in the Bank Holiday crowds being wholly unused to ever seeing her displaying pleasure and mistaking her for an alarming grinning stranger.





















A hugely enjoyable time was had by all with the Regulars only returning to the Shire once Ol' Blue Eyes had drunk the town dry.