Alive & well in Egypt 16-09-2003
Evenin all
This is going to be fairly short as I have just noticed how much they are
going to charge me for using this PC.
Aaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Got here about 1;30 this morning & had about 3 hours sleep before a full
days of gawking.
Went down to Memphis & saw the Step Pyramid (the first of the bunch) &
wandered through a few tombs. Pretty cool.
Then to Giza for the big buggers. And FFFFUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK are they big.
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An awesome sight to someone who is used to tall buildings. I cannot imagine
what effect they would have had on ancient Egyptians.
Crawled about inside one of them, unfortunately there is more graffiti than
anything else inside.
Saw the Sound & Light bizzo this evening which was a bit cheesy but looked
great.
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Here's a free tip folks. If you are a young woman & want to have someone
like myself take your photo atop a rock or some other relic, it may be a
good idea to wear underwear under the skirt because if a sudden gust of wind
arrives as the shutter closes then you will have an embarrassing time when
you get your shots developed. Well at least one Russian girl will.
Gave me a thrill but.
Pete, there will be 1 more Courier package on it's way to you. Should get
there later this week.
Could you pls email me as these arrive.
Well, as it's about 11PM & I still haven't eaten, I'm off.
see yer
F.U.S.B.
Having a Bex(hill-on-Sea) & a nice lie down. 11-09-2003
Morning all.
First of all, Al could you pls forward my emails to Peter, he's not getting
them again for some reason.
I trust you have all enjoyed another fun filled week at work. I still think
we should all go to school & be educated, then be given a million dollars
(or maybe more now, a mill doesn't go as far when I first had this idea)
from the government when we turn 18 & import cheap foreign labour to do the
work for us.
Think about it folks, it just might work.
Ideas on a self licked postage stamp pls.
To quote Oscar Wilde, "Work is the demon of the drinking class."
I have enjoyed a joyous week on the lovely English South Coast in the town
of Bexhill-on-Sea. One of those little seaside towns that you see on
postcards with the locals enjoying the beach huts & sailing boats that are
all lined up on the shore & the azure blue sea gently lapping up onto the
pebbles under a cloudless, sunny sky.
Pity about the rain.
A typical English summer beach scene. Empty, closed beach huts. Sailing
boats all under wraps to keep the water out. Cold & angry green sea crashing
violently onto the shore. Not a soul on the beach. One brave old couple all
rugged up in parkas & jackets to keep out the howling wind. One idiot with a
camera & a dark sense of humour recording the moment.
Yes folks, I AM THAT IDIOT!!!!!!!!!
Still think it was funny though.
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It almost feels as if I have been working over the last few days. I have
filled out so many forms, not just in triplicate but in quintuplicate (if
there is such a word) so I can have stuff couriered back home.
Some of you may recall my error of judgments a few weeks back when I bought
all those magazines.
Well they got shipped yesterday & I am sending back 1 suitcase of stuff that
I will definitely NOT need in Egypt. The cheapest way to get it all back
will set me back about $1100. CRAP!! And writers cramp. It felt like I was
back writing essays in the HSC exams yesterday by the time I had finished.
Once I had massaged (Rita, where are you when I need you?) the knots out of
my paw I ventured north to the scene of the Battle of Hastings where, for
those of you who actually paid attention in history class, old King Harold
copped a poke in the eye with a sharp stick & Willi the conqueror (a frog)
took the throne. One would think with a French royal family on the English
throne that they might have passed on some of their cooking tips but I guess
not. Selfish bunch, the French.
Speaking of which, Al, there are good Italian Restaurants over here. Well,
one anyway. A little place here in Bexhill run by a family of 50's something
wogs in which I had an awesome feed on Tuesday night.
But I digress.
I enjoy digressing. It has the habit of confusing the fuck out of people &
keeping them on the back foot.
The back foot is a very good place to keep people. Except Steve Waugh who
will carve you to pieces.
Good God, England came back from 4-400 odd on day 1 of the fifth test to win
the damn thing by 9 wickets.
How’s that for a digression?
I enjoyed it.
Anyhow.
The battlefield is not in Hastings at all but about 15 miles north in what
is now a town called, "Battle".
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Nice little town.
Had a cream tea in the 1066 pub.
I know that they are probably less healthy for me than smoking would be but
I do enjoy a good cream tea. A nice fresh scone, strawberry jam, an enormous
mound of thick yellow clotted cream & of course, a good cuppa.
Had several of these around the traps.
Best scones where in a farmhouse at the bottom of Hardknot Pass in the lakes
district.
Best cream was in a pud in the middle of the Dartmoor national park.
Old codger just tried to get himself run over outside by walking straight
behind a reversing van. Now he is abusing the driver. What a dickhead.
Hmmmm.
I seem to have done it again.
Some good names for pubs & eateries in Battle. "The Taste of Battle." was
one fine example.
The battlefield walk & the ruined abbey are very interesting & it was quite
easy to waste half a day there.
Well now that I have wasted half a day here I must go & wait for the courier
man & waste the other half of my day.
Only two more days in blighty (unless you count hanging around Heathrow all
day on Sunday) before I fly out to Egypt.
Not much rain there I suspect.
Well, cheerio.
F.U.S.B.
Heaven & Hell 08-09-2003
Well folks, my annual 3 days in heaven has once again, sadly concluded.
Before I start I should warn you of a very disturbing trend.
The bare midriff fashion seems to have been taken up by the middle aged &
elderly over here. I just walked past a lady(?) who would have been at least
mid fifties, about 5 foot 6, 15 to 16 stone wearing tight pants & a tight
top with this whacking great roll of blubber bulging out jiggling away as if
it was some perpetual motion machine. The best way to describe it is to say
that it resembled a pasty, white inner tube with nice big dark purple
stretch marks.
Soooooooo appealing.
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If you lot thought that I had a remarkable time at Goodwood last year you
are not going to buhleeeeeve what happened this time.
More of that later. (Got to keep you in some sort of suspense)
Unfortunately Friday had a little hell in heaven when firstly, that rather
lovely orange McLaren M1B that I got some good shots of coming out of the
chicane last year was totally destroyed against the grass bank at St Mary's
(where Stirling Moss ended his career back in '62). I was talking to David
Piper (of green Ferrari fame - speaking of which, he happened to be sitting
in his gorgeous Ferrari P4, 1 of only 4 ever built, at the time of this
conversation) who described the carnage. There were parts of it spread about
for 200 yards or more & not even the cockpit was in one piece. Fortunately
the driver somehow miraculously emerged without a scratch.
Even worse was to follow however, in an accident that looked completely
innocuous. The driver of a C type Jaguar went into the first turn a bit too
quickly & lost the back end. He ran wide onto the grass & then began a slow
sideways skid into the gravel trap (for those of you that don't know they
are designed for just this sort of situation to stop cars before they hit
anything solid). In 999 times out of 1000 this would have been the end of
the story, but the wheels (being side on) dug into the gravel & the car very
slowly rolled onto it's top. Most of these old cars are raced exactly how
they once were & in most cases that means no seatbelts or rollover bars. As
his car rolled over the driver fell out (the C type doesn't have a roof) &
the car then landed on his head. It didn't look good from the word go as
about 4 rescue vehicles & ambulances turned up but when the cops started
arriving on the scene everyone feared the worst. He was carted of to
hospital & racing was abandoned for the day. We arrived in the morning to
the news that somehow, he had survived & was in a serious but stable
condition( which was a lot better than it first looked) & at the end of
events on Sunday was still stable.
As I was sitting here typing this I caught the tail end of the headlines of
a news bulletin in which it was mentioned that the unfortunate is still in a
critical condition.
Bugger of an end to a brilliant weekend.
On a brighter note however, was the rest of the weekend. Being a member &
all got into all sorts of places the riff raff can't & had a grand time
chatting with (get this list folks); 1961 world champ Phil Hill, 1970 Le
Mans winner & former GP racer Richard Attwood, as previously mentioned
ex-Ferrari Sports car driver David Piper, former Ferrari & McLaren GP winner
Gerhard Berger, 1987 Motorcycle world champ Wayne Gardner, GP winner Jochen
Mass, female F1 driver Desire Wilson & many more of the local historic
drivers such as the slightly(?) insane Barry Williams (the one power sliding
the Morris Minor last year).
It was good to see that after 2 years Richard Attwood has finally got his
old F1 BRM P261 running properly, he couldn't even get it running as late as
2 weeks ago at Oulton Park. So properly that he ended up on pole position &
winning that race.
One of the other folks I ran into in the paddock was that master of cocked
up commentary, the inimitable Murray Walker. And this folks is where the
story start to take on an amazingly unbelievable turn. It was during the
late lunch break on Saturday after qualifying & before the start of the
first race.
During our chat we both realized at about the same time that he was supposed
to be on the other side of the circuit in the March enclosure (That’s the one
for toffs like me & Lord March etc) signing autographs. This part of the
conversation went something like this;(Murray) "Oh dear, what's the time? I
just noticed your badge & I think I'm supposed to be somewhere."
(Me) Looks at watch " Ah yes, just after 3 & you should be in the March
enclosure signing autographs."
(Murray) Looking confused - "Oh dear, do you know where that is?"
(Me) " yeah, follow me, I was heading over there when I stopped to chat
anyway."
All sounds a bit average doesn't it?
From there I led him to his appointment (we got there about 10 minutes late)
chatting about life, F1 & Goodwood.
The rather worried looking GRRC (Goodwood Road Racing Club) official who was
in charge of this event was most grateful & said, after Murray explained what
happened, "Thanks, I owe you one."
"S'auright" says I, assuming it was just a figure of speech & as Murray
started his duties I wandered over to the bar, got a drinkie & strolled off.
Remembering how one slightly dubious fellow in a kilt from Windsor (ours not
theirs) obtained a mechanics armband & got us into the pits last year, this
slightly dubious fellow in a kilt(well, actually, Sunday was the first day I
didn't wear it as the weather forecast was for torrential rain - not enough
time to dry it out if it got drenched) obtained in a very similar way
another mechanics armband from a team that had completed it's activities for
the weekend & was intending on using it to, once again, get into the pits
after the lunch break. As I was walking through the March enclosure on my
way to the pits the no longer worried GRRC official (who shall remain
nameless as he wasn't supposed to do what he was about to) spotted me &
said, "Ah, you're the chap would brought us Murray yesterday. I've been
looking for you since then. We really appreciate what you did, is there
anything you would like or I can do for you?"
The words "Nah, it's OK." had barely left my lips when a lightbulb flashed
on in my noggin.
"Well actually, what is the chance of getting a press pass for the rest of
the day?" May as well try do this legally thinks I reckoning the chances of
a positive result were about zippo, squat & diddley.
"Come with me, I'll see what I can do." says GRRC man.
"Chances have improved to bugger all" thinks I.
Ten minutes later I have left his site office with an official Photographers
armband proudly strapped on thinking "Fuck me, it's bloody amazing what
happens when you have the balls to ask."
So folks, for the last 4 races I was once again wandering the pit lane,
walking around the inside of the track getting nice & close & taking lots of
shots on the grid & victory celebrations and chatting with the drivers (and
the delectable Amanda Stretton who was having a weekend off from driving &
acting as the pits commentator) as they received their laurels of walked
gloomily away from a broken car. Again, Richard Attwood & David Piper spring
to mind is this context. Lovely blokes, both of them. Totally managed to be
in the wrong spot when anything happened however. I guess I had used all my
luck for the day.
Had just packed up & walked away from the spot where, if I had stayed
another minute, I would have had a superb shot of an almighty prang at the
chicane involving one very badly bent GT40.
Still, I was in nirvana again & as with last year got plied with free Verve
Cliquot by pretty young lasses after the racing finished. Unfortunately
unlike last year, they underestimated the amount required this year so I
didn't get to take a bottle home. Dang!!!
For all those skeptics out there, I have both the mechanics armband that I
nicked & the Photographers one that I didn't. So
Nyyyaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! (A sound like a raspberry but with no
tongue movement.)
One wonders how it can get much better next year? Maybe I will have to apply
for a press pass & do that for all 3 days.
I may not have a job but I cannot see me not being here again in 12 months.
It's just too good.
Now to get ready for Egypt.
What a bugger of a life.
F.U.S.B.
A (CD) Pirate in Penzance. 05-09-2003
Hi
It's me again.
Sorry about the gaps but, ah no I'm not. I keep getting distracted by some
rather nice young ladies.
I had heard that there were bingo halls over here but I didn't know if it
was just a bad joke or not. It's not.
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Since the last installment I have been wandering the moors (Ex & Dart)
Stayed in a tiny little town called Dunster which is about central to
everything in the Exmoor national park. In other words it is central to just
about nothing. There was an interesting little town a bit further along the
coast which is separated into 2 parts by a bloody great cliff. They have an
interesting way of connecting the 2. A water powered cable drawn train.
Quite a neat idea really. Water gets pumped up to the car at the top &
emptied from the one at the bottom, making the top one heavier. They just
let gravity take over & use breaks to stop you all being squashed at the
other end.
The other amusing bit about this town is a memorial to 52 people that were
killed in a rather spectacular flood in the 1950s. Amusing? I hear you ask.
Oh Yes!!!
I am sure that you have all seen adds along the lines of "As seen on Channel
9s "Wankers" programme .....Our multi functional robotic pig with 15
different marital aids will not only find your G spot & utterly eradicate it
but will also whiten your teeth, cure baldness & make your dogs coat
shinier"
Well the sign outside this memorial actually had "As seen on BBC's "Natural
Disasters" Programme".
I'm sure that made the survivors feel much better being constantly reminded
that they (and everyone else) can relive the moment that they lost their
loved ones over & over again with the kind work of the BBC.
Ran over about 5 pheasants in Exmoor. They are bloody everywhere. And where
they are not there are large red splats on the road where they were.
From there, headed south through Dartmoor swerving wildly to avoid the sheep
& moors ponies that just lay in the middle of the road. Almost as stupid as
Scottish sheep. Stopped & blew a raspberry at all the inmates of Dartmoor
Prison. All right, I know that they couldn't see me from there but it was
fun all the same. And safer.
Arrived in the coastal fishing village of Looe in what is laughingly called
the Cornish Riviera. It had some nice old arched stone causeways along the
side of the harbour a bit like Monaco. Only not. It had cheerfully lit
walkways festooned with bright flowers along the side of the river like
Paris & the Seine. Only not. Once I had broken out the grappling hooks,
crampons & rappelling lines & made it to the hotel ( I think this may have
been the one that inspired Faulty Towers) I had a view of the town in all
it's glory. Picturesque in it's own unique sort of way but only when the
tide was in. When it was out the entire harbour & river feeding it looked
like a very large mutant space goat with a nasty cold had sneezed leaving a
shining green slick in it's wake.
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Stayed there for 3 nights. Got the hell out of there for 3 days. Went to
Penzance which was quite nice & down to Lands End which is pretty
spectacular. Good views along the cliffs in all directions & a very good
view of the end of cargo ship of some sort which embedded itself on the
rocks about1 mile from the viewing platform. Well done skipper. Couldn't
have positioned it better if he had tried. Any closer & the view wouldn't
have been as good and any further away ...
Sort of halfway between Looe (Where appropriately enough I got a case of the
trots) & Lands End is something out of a B grade science fiction movie
except it's real. A thing called the Eden Project where they have gathered
plants from all over the world & stuck them in an old clay pit & covered
them with plastic domes. Like pods in bad Mars movies. If you are into
plants it is definitely worth a look. Even if you aren't it is. Except all
the bloody tourists. Get everywhere the bastards. There was one plant I
seriously considered nicking. It stood about 20 feet high & about 15 across
& was covered in pretty flowers & heads. It may not have been Indian but I
am sure that African hemp could have the same effect. Although it may have
seemed a little suspicious to customs if I came back with a 20 foot gunga
plant poking out of my trousers. "Are you happy to see me sir or is that a
tree in your pants?"
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About time to go an get some grub so
1 day to heaven..........
F.U.S.B.
Getting Squiffy in the Spa 30-08-2003
Hi Y'all
Leamington Spa that is.
For them wot is a keen observer of the sweet science this was the home of
British Middleweight Champion Randolph Turpin who was the first guy to beat
Sugar Ray Robinson in a world title fight back in about 1950. May have been
a mistake 'cause Sugar Ray beat the crap out of him about 4 months later.
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Speaking of mistakes I read in the Times (You should all know by now that I
only read posh broadsheets, they have funnier stories) that some silly
bugger in Russia has managed to get himself engaged to 5 different women. As
you all know, Hell hath no fury etc etc but he may still have survived if he
hadn't made one error too many. All 5 women are lawyers. What a dickhead.
There is some poor kid here who must have made some similar mistake. There
is front wall of a house (I assume it is his) covered in graffiti. It reads "
I hate you Kirton" Bit blunt I thought.
While we are on the frivolous, there was a little girl walking down the
street with a nice, cute pink top on which read "Boys are stupid. Throw
rocks at them!" Jeeez. Can you imagine the outcry from the feminazis if that
was inciting folks to throw rocks at girls? Just because they are stupid?
Even the greenies would protest. There would be no more rocks left!!!
Well, spent a day or so wandering about this little town, quite pretty, nice
parks, but that’s about it.
Drove on down to Stratford on Avon where old Willy Shakespeare is reputed to
have been born, lived & died. Quaint I think is the word you would use to
describe it. Again, nice parks, lots of Tudor houses & about 50 000 000 000
000 000 000 000 000 000 000 (lots) of geese in the river. A fair amount of
swans & ducks as well but, FUCK ME, do those bloody geese make a racket.
Couldn't hear the git in the park pretending to spout poetry for the noise
that they made. Probably a good thing. From what I did manage to catch he
wasn't going to give old Willy a run for his money & he's been dead for
about 400 years. Evolution? What’s that? Not in poetry anyway. Sounded more
like we were crawling back into the slime.
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Oz made it back into the news again yesterday. It seems our navy is going to
sink a Uruguayan pirate vessel we captured. That’s what OZ is. Spiders,
snakes, sharks, whales & pirates. Cool Huh?
England lost the forth cricket test with a last innings collapse. Ain't that
a surprise? No? Oh well.
Scott, got the new DP Album, Bananas. Not bad. Bit like a mix between
Purpendicular & that album Gillan & Glover did.
Al, What’s been happening with Souths. You're getting a bit slack on the
updates.
Food situation improving as I push South. Most of it was actually edible
here.
Only 1 more week to heaven. I'm getting a bit fed up & sick of all this
tedious travel one must put up with between racing weekends.
What's that?
You DON'T feel sorry for me?
YOU SELFISH
BASTARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In that case I'm not talking to you anymore.
Until next time.
cheerio
F.U.S.B.