Monday, May 28, 2007

In Pursuit of the Eatable

Wouldn't it be a great world if hunters, instead of getting boozed up with their posh chums and ripping a fox apart with dogs, went down to Gloucestershire for a bit of Cheese Rolling.

Wouldn't the thrill of hurling themselves down a wet 1:1 slope after a wheel of fermented curd make up for the absence of frightened fox ? Also the sheer joy of using the word "truckle" must be a suitable alternative to smearing blood on your first-born's face and galloping through your neighbour's property.

Just a thought.


Kenny said...

Damn Stan -- we agree on so many issues. Kind of hard to reconcile how our politics are so disparate.

No excuse for hunting foxes at all. Utterly repugnant. Oscar had it so right.

Kenny said...

BTW, what does all that Latin gubbins mean?

Stan said...

I'm told it translates as :

“I can’t hear you. I have a banana in my ear.”

Useful traveller's phrase, er - except no-one speaks Latin these days and even when they did there were no bananas.

Still, useful for confusing tourists when I put it on the gates outside Gamla Manor.