Just When You Though It Was Safe To Go Back On The Net

Welcome back readers to what will hopefully be a return to my regular posting schedule. I have a few apologies to make and I understand the uproar that has ensued due to my absence. We are back in recession, the economy is collapsing around us and we discovered that there is a gentleman working in the White House named Randy Bumgardner. So much can change in just a few months that I struggle to remember it all, but I will keep you informed of my situation and the reasons for my mysterious absence. The main excuse I have is my new job. It is very intense and occupies most of my time. Other more lame excuses I would like to mention are; no inspiration, my laptop continues to frustrate me with erratic behaviour and I am just plain lazy. I have to say that I am impressed with the level of commitment some of you have in trying to persuade me to start writing again, if only my commitment was half as strong, you would have no reason to bug me every day since I stopped. I can only hope that you all can put those dark few months behind you and find a reason to forgive me of my thoughtlessness. Well that's enough of my empty promising and fake sentiment, on with the blog...


In this edition I have decided to do a bit of research into the weird traditions that some people in this country religiously continue to take part in. There were some crackers that I found so here are a few that I feel should be brought to your attention and exposed as genuinely mental behaviour and are as ridiculous as they sound. Let me take you on a short journey to Gloucestershire for my first hilarious tradition. At the top of Coopers Hill there is an annual event that the whole area gets involved in. Some of you may already know of this strange event and some of you don't, but we should all be in agreement that this behaviour is clearly not in keeping with the county's usually sane occupants. For on the last Monday in May, changed to the first month in June this year, there are a large group of people that congregate at the top of said hill. From what I can gather from my limited understanding, several large rounded blocks of cheese are hurled down this steep hill followed by the participants. People are launching themselves down a hill in pursuit of...well cheese. Some become seriously injured trying to beat others to the dairy products and get pealed off the floor by paramedics, some probably later die in hospital. Are these people so deprived that they have to risk life and limb for something as simple as cheese? Do they realise that they can just pop to the Tesco half a mile down the road and buy the same product? (other bloodsucking, soulless supermarkets are available). Maybe they can't afford it, so I appeal to all of you generous readers - If you have a spare wedge of cheese please send it to Gloucestershire, they need it more than you do!


Moving on...The village of Willaston, near Nantwich, Cheshire is the next place that has been brought to my attention. The next sentence may be a little hard to believe but bare with me. Every July the "Annual World Championship Worm Charming Event" takes place. I feel enough has already been said but let us continue. A group of "world class" worm charmers descend upon this village and attempt to charm as many worms out of the ground as possible in a specified time limit. I'm sold, in fact I have purchased box seats to this year's championships. There are rules and regulations that have to be strictly adhered to; each competitor competes in a 3 x 3 meters area. Music of any kind can be used to charm worms out of the ground. No drugs can be used! Water is considered to be a drug (stimulant). Have you heard of anything more ridiculous? Probably but this surely runs close. I believe that worm charming has a place in our great society however, I mean look how many worm charmers there are already out there making money from this unique skill. Most of them work in places like Spearmint Rhino or Hooters.


My last tradition is the Bog Snorkeling Championships. I will consider that some of you are probably eating whilst reading this and ignore that fact. In a nutshell; on the last Monday of every August, in Waen Rhydd peat bog, near Llanwrtyd Wells in mid Wales people are swimming in 60 yards of shit. They compete with goggles and flippers on swimming two lengths of poo filled water to raise money for charity. That is 120 yards of crap, a hell of a long time to be doing such a thing - even for charity. Lunacy doesn't even begin to describe what is going on here. I can barely stand the smell of my own poo let alone anyone elses!!! Maybe this is a fetish to some people. I often joke about wondering what people's poo tastes like but talking about it and doing it are two completely different things, get a grip!


Well that wraps up my first blog for a while, I hope that you enjoyed it and hopefully I will have another one for you next week. Until then Have a good week...