I’m gonna take the incumbent out for a drink tonight, down to The Shovel (I may have mentioned it before.) But here’s a problem: Although it’s not a very big pub, sometimes it’s very quiet, due to it being half empty. There are certain evenings when the Great British “Summer” doesn’t serve up the weather conducive to walking down to the boozer for a nice warm pint, leaving half-a-dozen or so of us to fend for ourselves, to create a buzz, and make an atmosphere.
What to do ….? hmmm….
I know ! Thanks to The Telegraph today, I know just what I’ll do:
I’m gonna pack a spare cardie, a pair of moleskin troos and me wellies. I’ll keep popping in-and-out of the loo, changing my clothes as I go. No-one will ever know. If I can persuade The Incumbent to put a spare frock in the bag, we can have a four-handed game of cards. THE PLACE WILL LOOK PACKED TO THE GUNWHALES !!!! What fun ! You can say what you like about that Seb Coe bloke, but he comes up with stuff that no-one would ever dream of.
I hear talk that we are to enter two donkey jackets, a pin-stripe suit and a set of overalls into the marathon to make up the numbers. Jacques Rogge need never know ( he’ll be too busy counting his money anyway).
Nice to see that Boris got down of that wire .