And lo the saviour was born wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger and in his company were a glory of angels sent from the father. Shepherds and wisemen surrounded him and his parents Mary and Joseph looked at their new child. I have also heard there was a donkey involved and also a drummer boy there which I thought was a bit stingy on the Christ families behalf, I thought if they were going to throw a do they would invite the whole band.
2006 years later the devil has taken over and men throughout Christendom are forced against their will to traipse through hell also known as IKEA. Other than fecking cushions and bollocks, all it is is a giant warehouse of doom where you are forced to witness your partner pointing at generic stuff and you nodding, I would kick Iran out of the axis of evil and put in IKEA instead.
The problem would be if we sent troops in they would have to follow the yellow fucking line and end up at the exit, full of meat (testicle) balls with a wooden spoon, a basket and loads of candles without firing a shot.
I often see a parallel between young Jesus life and my own. He helped people and I helped people get pissed. He performed miracles and I manage to get you fuckers out 4 times a year.
He walked on water – I can drink all day and get home after kiwis without looking up from my orange curry and chips once.
He could talk to the animals, no, that was Dr Doolittle but then I talk to a giant Morgan virtually every day so I am better than that prick too.
He raised Lazarus from the dead and I have managed to, on 2 occasions to wake up Taz after a huge session. He was the son of God and my dad drives a milk tanker so that’s one all. He died on a cross and I can guarantee I will definitely die cross or at least slightly perturbed.
So the Party is upon us and already the Rooster is hanging out of his arse. Wales’ capital city is a contemporary Sodom or Gemorrah. You just cant walk far without seeing fat valley commandoes with shiny shirts and shit moustaches trying to knock fuck out of each other while their ‘homebirds’ Beyonsi and Saycbiteandblak are when not spuing up whitelightning are screeching like banshees. These birds are fat as fuck but that’s a good thing because if they had to rely on the 3 pieces of faux leather they were wearing they would be dead from exposure in minutes.
The Lovechickens love skimpily clad women but we want them to look like Angelina Jolie not Taz with a bra on and his willy stuck between his legs.
Sorry follow chickens about this yuletide rant but it was just a precursor to wishing you all a very merry Christmas and a happy New year. Next year sees the Lovechickens going to at least 3 different countries and playing at least once – we will be expecting membership in the new year so look after your coppers so you can afford it.
While I am used to the plaudits telling me how brilliant I am let me take this opportunity to say thanks for you boys for being part of a great club – lets make 2007 a facking huge one…..
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
my weekend by the Vicar
God damn, It's taken almost 36 years to realize that the destruction of ones liver could be such a joyous event! Now I'm fairly new to this Love chicken lark. Call me old fashioned but I'm from the generation where the men and women drank in separate parts of the pub, Ladies drinking a small sherry whilst the men went off for a glass of stout and a sneaky game of skittles...............Fuck hang on.....what am I on about? OK, so Fergie has managed to find (as only he can) the only tear in the space time continuum known to man that is the Tavistock arms.
I know that the new Dr Who has been filmed in that wonderful capitol city or ours but how kind and novel of them to leave one of the sets behind and then allow it to be used as a drinking hole for the marauding mass that is the Love Chickens. And it was whilst i was stood there arm in arm with the Bois whilst the national anthem rang out that i realised just how God Damn special this creation of Thugs and Fergatrons is. Its never about the place (Kiwis be testament to that), its all about the Bois. The insanity and love that only 40 or so half cut men can bring to each other.
I know that Fergs already has a medal or two for his service to queen and country. Although I did not know that the Army gave medals for getting wankered and shagging pros! But man you and Thug deserve another for what is the 8th wonder of the world.
Roll on Edinburgh.
I know that the new Dr Who has been filmed in that wonderful capitol city or ours but how kind and novel of them to leave one of the sets behind and then allow it to be used as a drinking hole for the marauding mass that is the Love Chickens. And it was whilst i was stood there arm in arm with the Bois whilst the national anthem rang out that i realised just how God Damn special this creation of Thugs and Fergatrons is. Its never about the place (Kiwis be testament to that), its all about the Bois. The insanity and love that only 40 or so half cut men can bring to each other.
I know that Fergs already has a medal or two for his service to queen and country. Although I did not know that the Army gave medals for getting wankered and shagging pros! But man you and Thug deserve another for what is the 8th wonder of the world.
Roll on Edinburgh.
my note for the day from Spence the Viking
As it seems from your blog entries, I missed an almighty piss-up, which is a shame. Even more of a shame than not being able to play dirty against some fit and healthy young students who are trying to run rings around me. So, in order to make up in some small way for my absence from what appears to have been a large one by all accounts, I thought I would explain what I was doing for the weekend that prevented me from attending. As some of you may know (but most of you won't) I'm one of the Faces on the scooter scene (so I'll be gutted if you really did meet Ray Winstone). Prior to hearing about this event, I'd already booked a flight to Germany to attend the Armed Forces Scooter Club end of season bash in none other than that jewel of north western Europe, Paderborn.
Having spent the day at work, I dashed home, and RVd with the people I was travelling to Manchester Airport with. Arriving 1800hrs, having a secure carpark drama, then checking in, we met up with four more AFSC members and hit the bar. A couple of beers later it was boarding time, blah blah hour and a half, Air Berlin, screaming kid a couple of rows back blah blah. Got picked up at Paderborn-Lippstadt airport and taken direct to Willy's Bar (that's the owner by the way, not the entertainment) where we met about thirty or so more AFSC members and German scooterists. Straight on the Warsteiner in large amounts until 0230hrs when Willy had enough and chucked us out. "Taxis nach Zentrum bitte" all round; unfortunately Paderborn is not the Partei Zentrum I remember Herford to be, and the only place open at that time on a Friday night was an Irish cellar bar. So of course we hit the Guinness. As you do.
Inevitably, the more I drink, the better my German gets, so I spent several hours boring a local scooterist to death, before asking for directions to the nearest Gyros. Instantly I was transported back 15 years as I indulged in the heavenly combination of proper meat, pitta bread, tsatsiki and trimmings. Why on earth are we still eating that donner shit over here? Anyway, me and three of the lads grabbed a taxi (by now it's 0600hrs) back to Dempsey Kaserne with the nicest driver ever, until he noticed Steve had dropped Gyros on his seats, at which point he became comedy German, shouting things like "Scheisse!", I kid you not. So, after 24 hours on the go, I allowed myself four fitful hours sleep, before getting up, having several brews, shit/shower/shave and into the cookhouse for what the Army calls "brunch", but what you and I would call "scraps".
Having lined my stomach with grease, I gave the peggies a well-earned brush, and as soon as the NAAFI bar opened at 1200hrs we were in there. Sensibly sticking to Corona lager, which Ferg, Morgs and Pete Dev will testify is a thirst-quenching, life-saving alternative to 'heavier' beers, I watched my compatriots get steadily wankered on pint bottles of Beck's while we watched the international on about twenty giant flatscreens (NAAFIs were different in my day, I mean, my feet didn't even stick to the floor in this one). Now you might think, he was at the AFSC end of season bash, why was he taking it easy? Well that's because I wasn't. The bash wasn't due to start until 1800hrs, and with a scheduled finish of 0600hrs the following morning, I was playing the smart game lads, trust me.
So, at about 1930hrs, we thought it might be fair to show our faces at the do. Not before going back to the block for a shower and to iron the trusty Ben Sherman of course. By this time one or two of the lads were a little the worse for wear. One submariner who shall remain nameless even made quiet death threats to several of us before snapping out of it. But, we made it to the do and got right back on the horse. Then, using my awesome powers of switching to JD and coke, and burning off the excess with plenty of Northern Soul dancing, I made it all the way through until 0530hrs on Sunday morning when it was only excrutiating foot pain (damn you, penny loafers!) that forced me to retire. Yes, retire my lovelies. But only for another four hours fitful sleep, for once again at 1000hrs I was up and in the cookhouse for "brunch", then oh, what to do, what to do? Fuck it let's go to the NAAFI and watch the footy. Back on the horse, only this time in the form of Smirnoff Ice, girl's drink but doesn't taste of alcohol, just what you need in this situation. Another afternoon on it, then down to a local bowling alley where I was introduced to a wonder of the modern drinking world, the "Bierturm" or "Beer Tower", a four foot high glass tube with a tap on the bottom that just keeps getting replaced the more you drink. Brilliant!! Fuck the bowling!! Having eaten a huge plate of Currywurst and chips just to ensure another fitful sleep, we eventually got back to the camp and I got my head down at about midnight.
Reveille was 0430hrs unfortunately, because we had to be at the airport for 0530hrs but hey, who the fuck needs sleep? Fast forward, blah blah, take the piss out of the locals at the airport one last time, Air Berlin, screaming kid a couple of rows in front, blah blah. I got home at 0900hrs, got changed, and went to work for the rest of the day. So you see my lovelies, even though I couldn't be there with you on such a special occasion, at least I wasn't strolling around Ikea holding a bird's hand.
See you soon Spence the Viking (not a Saxon) LC70 I think
Having spent the day at work, I dashed home, and RVd with the people I was travelling to Manchester Airport with. Arriving 1800hrs, having a secure carpark drama, then checking in, we met up with four more AFSC members and hit the bar. A couple of beers later it was boarding time, blah blah hour and a half, Air Berlin, screaming kid a couple of rows back blah blah. Got picked up at Paderborn-Lippstadt airport and taken direct to Willy's Bar (that's the owner by the way, not the entertainment) where we met about thirty or so more AFSC members and German scooterists. Straight on the Warsteiner in large amounts until 0230hrs when Willy had enough and chucked us out. "Taxis nach Zentrum bitte" all round; unfortunately Paderborn is not the Partei Zentrum I remember Herford to be, and the only place open at that time on a Friday night was an Irish cellar bar. So of course we hit the Guinness. As you do.
Inevitably, the more I drink, the better my German gets, so I spent several hours boring a local scooterist to death, before asking for directions to the nearest Gyros. Instantly I was transported back 15 years as I indulged in the heavenly combination of proper meat, pitta bread, tsatsiki and trimmings. Why on earth are we still eating that donner shit over here? Anyway, me and three of the lads grabbed a taxi (by now it's 0600hrs) back to Dempsey Kaserne with the nicest driver ever, until he noticed Steve had dropped Gyros on his seats, at which point he became comedy German, shouting things like "Scheisse!", I kid you not. So, after 24 hours on the go, I allowed myself four fitful hours sleep, before getting up, having several brews, shit/shower/shave and into the cookhouse for what the Army calls "brunch", but what you and I would call "scraps".
Having lined my stomach with grease, I gave the peggies a well-earned brush, and as soon as the NAAFI bar opened at 1200hrs we were in there. Sensibly sticking to Corona lager, which Ferg, Morgs and Pete Dev will testify is a thirst-quenching, life-saving alternative to 'heavier' beers, I watched my compatriots get steadily wankered on pint bottles of Beck's while we watched the international on about twenty giant flatscreens (NAAFIs were different in my day, I mean, my feet didn't even stick to the floor in this one). Now you might think, he was at the AFSC end of season bash, why was he taking it easy? Well that's because I wasn't. The bash wasn't due to start until 1800hrs, and with a scheduled finish of 0600hrs the following morning, I was playing the smart game lads, trust me.
So, at about 1930hrs, we thought it might be fair to show our faces at the do. Not before going back to the block for a shower and to iron the trusty Ben Sherman of course. By this time one or two of the lads were a little the worse for wear. One submariner who shall remain nameless even made quiet death threats to several of us before snapping out of it. But, we made it to the do and got right back on the horse. Then, using my awesome powers of switching to JD and coke, and burning off the excess with plenty of Northern Soul dancing, I made it all the way through until 0530hrs on Sunday morning when it was only excrutiating foot pain (damn you, penny loafers!) that forced me to retire. Yes, retire my lovelies. But only for another four hours fitful sleep, for once again at 1000hrs I was up and in the cookhouse for "brunch", then oh, what to do, what to do? Fuck it let's go to the NAAFI and watch the footy. Back on the horse, only this time in the form of Smirnoff Ice, girl's drink but doesn't taste of alcohol, just what you need in this situation. Another afternoon on it, then down to a local bowling alley where I was introduced to a wonder of the modern drinking world, the "Bierturm" or "Beer Tower", a four foot high glass tube with a tap on the bottom that just keeps getting replaced the more you drink. Brilliant!! Fuck the bowling!! Having eaten a huge plate of Currywurst and chips just to ensure another fitful sleep, we eventually got back to the camp and I got my head down at about midnight.
Reveille was 0430hrs unfortunately, because we had to be at the airport for 0530hrs but hey, who the fuck needs sleep? Fast forward, blah blah, take the piss out of the locals at the airport one last time, Air Berlin, screaming kid a couple of rows in front, blah blah. I got home at 0900hrs, got changed, and went to work for the rest of the day. So you see my lovelies, even though I couldn't be there with you on such a special occasion, at least I wasn't strolling around Ikea holding a bird's hand.
See you soon Spence the Viking (not a Saxon) LC70 I think
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
The return of Fat man Slim
Oh, oh what a welcome bois ? To the old chickens, it was truely an honour to see you all again, and to receive such tourment and abuse. It brought a tear to my eyes!
Special thanks to Ski for the constant punching all day - brought me back to my old school days.All I needed was Dev and Fergi to issue a "Bogging Dirty" (Its a Fishguard think, but you will all learn) to top the day off. To the new faces, it was so nice to put a face to an email address, and although many of you have been members for severals months, if not years, I hold my fat head low in shame for as a Club Founder with the Zulu Master ..... "Zuuuuuluuuuuuuuuuuuuu" it will be the first time we have crossed !! Here's to many more. Those of you who know me, you know this is utter bull shit !!!
Being out of practice of both any form of exercise or indeed drinking, for many years, I could not decide whether playing 10 minutes or drinking for an additional couple more hours, was better for my health? Anyway after a few pints I didn't care. That warm feeling of man love and chicken love was everywhere, and the tears of laughter seem to start, and didn't stop all day. I sometimes forget what a fatastic club me and Fergi have created here!
As I drove down from the land of Saxon, with the huge Big Dave (Lerch) I could feel my voice box changing, and a strange native tounge take a grip of me. A large hand took a grip of my wallet at the Seven Bridg toll booths, for the some of £4.90. Last time I graced you all with my presence, it cost £1.78 and England were a great nation in rugby. How times have changed!! Bastards, but at least we put 24 points on the All Blacks !!!! I have many, many fond memories of that Saturday. To name just a few, the sing along with 6ft Jap and his version of "Living on a Prayer", Nunnies underpants - truely truely hidious, Clysts and his ears, and million dollar legs, Champaign Ron (Euron) giving the chav's a hard time - anyone for a soverign or half-soverign !! Morg just being Morgan, and meeting Ray Winston in the toilets ! I forgot to get him to sign the poster that we nicked from the student union bar !!
And of course Kiwis - how could anybody not mention Kiwis - I really do hate the place, its now a love thing! I am already missing you all, well not all of you, and for the new members who became just a blur and a slur during the night, I look forward to many, many more events. Zulu!! Zuuuuuulu ! Hoo-Ha ! Hoo-Ha - Great great memories !!!!!!!
Man Love - Roberts LC (1/2)
Special thanks to Ski for the constant punching all day - brought me back to my old school days.All I needed was Dev and Fergi to issue a "Bogging Dirty" (Its a Fishguard think, but you will all learn) to top the day off. To the new faces, it was so nice to put a face to an email address, and although many of you have been members for severals months, if not years, I hold my fat head low in shame for as a Club Founder with the Zulu Master ..... "Zuuuuuluuuuuuuuuuuuuu" it will be the first time we have crossed !! Here's to many more. Those of you who know me, you know this is utter bull shit !!!
Being out of practice of both any form of exercise or indeed drinking, for many years, I could not decide whether playing 10 minutes or drinking for an additional couple more hours, was better for my health? Anyway after a few pints I didn't care. That warm feeling of man love and chicken love was everywhere, and the tears of laughter seem to start, and didn't stop all day. I sometimes forget what a fatastic club me and Fergi have created here!
As I drove down from the land of Saxon, with the huge Big Dave (Lerch) I could feel my voice box changing, and a strange native tounge take a grip of me. A large hand took a grip of my wallet at the Seven Bridg toll booths, for the some of £4.90. Last time I graced you all with my presence, it cost £1.78 and England were a great nation in rugby. How times have changed!! Bastards, but at least we put 24 points on the All Blacks !!!! I have many, many fond memories of that Saturday. To name just a few, the sing along with 6ft Jap and his version of "Living on a Prayer", Nunnies underpants - truely truely hidious, Clysts and his ears, and million dollar legs, Champaign Ron (Euron) giving the chav's a hard time - anyone for a soverign or half-soverign !! Morg just being Morgan, and meeting Ray Winston in the toilets ! I forgot to get him to sign the poster that we nicked from the student union bar !!
And of course Kiwis - how could anybody not mention Kiwis - I really do hate the place, its now a love thing! I am already missing you all, well not all of you, and for the new members who became just a blur and a slur during the night, I look forward to many, many more events. Zulu!! Zuuuuuulu ! Hoo-Ha ! Hoo-Ha - Great great memories !!!!!!!
Man Love - Roberts LC (1/2)
Monday, December 04, 2006
A Little bit of disappointment by Old Father Time
A little bit of disappointment…
Arose at 0600 hrs. Threw the horsehair blankets off. Good fart. Scratch of the balls. 20 press-ups. 20 squats. 20 star jumps. Then leapfrog with the missus for 20 minutes. Folded my pyjamas. Hung up my dressing gown and nightcap. Slippers under the bed. Empty the pot.
Strip wash in cold water, with coal-tar soap. Talcum. A good lather up with the shaving brush, stropped the razor, then a good hot, wet-shave, applying some balsam.
Nice cup of hot water and some salted porridge for breakfast.
Made sure my string underpants were clean and ironed.
Then checked the stitching on my leather boots, making sure that they wouldn’t be too tight around the calf, and a liberal application of warm dubbin.
Then to starch my rugger shorts (funny how the pockets were still stitched up – by grandma, before she passed away in 1977, poor dear).
Quick check to make sure I had my second set of false teeth.
Checked my hair, ensuring a straight parting. Sufficient application of Brylcreem.
Spare metal studs? Check! Wintergreen? Check? Elastoplast? Check! Picture of my mummy? Check! 20 Woodbines for the touchlines? Check! Woollen gloves? Check!
Right, I was ready.
Got to Newport in good time (before anyone else, as a matter of fact).
Such disappointment to find that the game had been cancelled due to a waterlogged pitch. Tell that to the fusiliers in the trenches. Game wouldn’t have been cancelled during the war, I can tell you! I remember when the whistle went and we all came out and shook hands and had a game of football. Ah, those were the days (sigh!)!
So to drinking then. Saw a lot of familiar as well as not-so-familiar faces.
Uncle Fester and Lurch Thug and his bodyguard turned up. Thug said he’d lost two stone. I reckon that was due to having the bottom half of his legs chopped off (or have they always been that short?)!
Euron still lashed up after the previous night’s edification.
Ski threatening to chuck up any second. Then he got his second wind and noticed the top shelf of the bar.
Hardly any of the opposition turned up (perhaps confident of a good performance of rugby, but obviously not so confident about their performance at the bar).
Nice presentation of a shirt to Fergs by Newport Uni, accompanied with our rendition of Zulu, of which the Welch Regiment would have been very proud. Then plenty of man love.
Then off to Cardiff on the love bus. Bit too much for me, I’m afraid. Was running on a full colostomy and had to drain the surplus into a half glass. With my cock.
Came off the bus in Cardiff, and then off to the Tavistock.
Then it all went a bit strange. In fact I think I disappeared! Came-to in Kiwis.
Anybody know what happened to me between me leaving the pub and getting into Kiwis?
Did I eat anything?
Did I see the Wales game?
Nunny
PS Game will have to be rescheduled. Otherwise my leather boots will get hard and crack up.
That Saturday by the largest man in Essex
I have been on some benders in my 35 years on this ball of rock hurtling around the cosmos but none like the one i've just recovered from. It only took 4 days but i think i'm starting to feel somewhat normal or what i feel is nomal for my life.
Let me start off by saying that i feel absolutly honoured to finally won my first cap as a Love Chicken i've been looking forward to it since i missed the Bath Spa 7's tour which took place too soon after Thug's stagg doo, then came Thug's wedding. I think Thug's stagg doo was a glimpse at what a LC tour was like but on a smaller level so needless to say i was some what shocked when myself and thug climbed in through the window of the newport uni bar and saw what we both thought was two teams enjoying a bevy together. Oh how wrong we were because the 40 or so blokes having a laugh and a beer wern't two teams oh no they were one team and only one for they were all LOVE CHICKENS all 40 or so.
As this was was my first cap i was some what nervous all these new faces, but thats one of the best things about being a lc as soon as they see the tye or they know your one of them the Love Chickens treat u as though they've known you for years, and so that was the start of a fantastic day a day of drinking a day of singing a day of drinking things that really shouldn't be drunk and i think everyone who was on the coach knows what i'm on about...enough said. In fact the only spoiler was not actually playing those Newport boys which i feel i have to say was a real let down but hay that only left more time for downing some ale, chinwagging and watching the game on t.v. I also have to say Kiwi's was an eye opener again, i can't believe so many people can get into such a small place but i think thats wha makes it good. Anyway in summary my first cap as a LC was something i will take fond memories from i will take them all the way back to the eastern shores of this fine and great land. So once again thanks to all the Love Chickens for making one of the newest members welcome CHEEEEEEEEEEERS!!!!! LC84 BIG DAVE
Let me start off by saying that i feel absolutly honoured to finally won my first cap as a Love Chicken i've been looking forward to it since i missed the Bath Spa 7's tour which took place too soon after Thug's stagg doo, then came Thug's wedding. I think Thug's stagg doo was a glimpse at what a LC tour was like but on a smaller level so needless to say i was some what shocked when myself and thug climbed in through the window of the newport uni bar and saw what we both thought was two teams enjoying a bevy together. Oh how wrong we were because the 40 or so blokes having a laugh and a beer wern't two teams oh no they were one team and only one for they were all LOVE CHICKENS all 40 or so.
As this was was my first cap i was some what nervous all these new faces, but thats one of the best things about being a lc as soon as they see the tye or they know your one of them the Love Chickens treat u as though they've known you for years, and so that was the start of a fantastic day a day of drinking a day of singing a day of drinking things that really shouldn't be drunk and i think everyone who was on the coach knows what i'm on about...enough said. In fact the only spoiler was not actually playing those Newport boys which i feel i have to say was a real let down but hay that only left more time for downing some ale, chinwagging and watching the game on t.v. I also have to say Kiwi's was an eye opener again, i can't believe so many people can get into such a small place but i think thats wha makes it good. Anyway in summary my first cap as a LC was something i will take fond memories from i will take them all the way back to the eastern shores of this fine and great land. So once again thanks to all the Love Chickens for making one of the newest members welcome CHEEEEEEEEEEERS!!!!! LC84 BIG DAVE
Friday, December 01, 2006
Diary by Big Jim the Turk protector of the public
Saturday the 25th of October 2006
Dear Diary,
My day began leaving the small village of Hendy, that is situated in the Costa Del of South West Wales. It's was about an hours drive to Cardiff and I couldn't wait to get there.
I'd been looking forward to this day for weeks! I was more excited than a young boy getting a second hand Sega Master System for christmas! As I'd previously discussed with Fergi, I was even more excited than when Emyr "Tarw" Lewis had that drop goal in the Arms Park when I was a young Turk in my red Harp Lager Scarlets jursey eating pop and crisps.
I hadn't been able to concentrate at all during the last week...Carmarthen had been like a crazy, thug filled, drug consuming scene from Hell! That's all I could think about during my long, never ending journey on the M4, was the day ahead! I knew that the company that I was going to be in could not be blemished and seeing many of them after a long 5 years would be as if I saw them yesterday in The Old Monk! I knew that people like the 6ft Jap...who nurtured me for many years , Mike "the Jamie Oliver wannabe" Stephens, The Sex Pest, Rhys "Top Man" Bach, Ferg and the only English man who claims he is Welsh Falls would all be there. All close friends who used to gather in the now fallen, but never forgtten Ponderosa, to play "f**k the buss"would be together again. Not only was it Wales v New Zeland but it was a gathering of brothers!
After my long tedious journey of trying to catch the eye of parallel female motorists I finally arrived in Cardiff where I met Jamie and Russow. Nice to see them but I had no idea what Russ was talking about as it appears that since he has moved to Rhoose Point he has become involved in some strange Ghetto! "Wapnin!"...what's hppened to "how are you butt?" or "ow are 'ew luv?" as they say in Gorseinon! Anyway...I was told that we were meeting a bus full of Love Chickens in a Brains pub called the "Tav"!...I was a little weary as I'm only used to drinking Felinfoel Double Dragon ale but I thought to myself "when in Rome!" I walked into this small, smoke filled public house with the landlord cutting fresh black pudding and ALDI mature cheese, on the bar ready for the half time festivities...again, it wasn't what I was used to but I thought I'd throw myself into the deep end and ask for three pints of Carling Extra Cold! After drinking several pints of cold lager, and ripping my tongue off the ice cold glass, the bus arrived! Amongst the constant traffic noise of the city I could hear the deep, rumble of the bus outside. My stomach started churning with excitement and my heart staterd to beat at a irregllular pace...one, two, three, four...when was it going to stop...one after another, they all walked in, heads bowed, through the small door of the public house! Christams has come early! Although I knew many of them there were so many new faces that I was excited to meet and be introduced to!
The initial meeting had now passed and we were all in the swing of things! We moved from pub to pub, sang nostalgic anthems and chugged beer with long lasting friends. Nevertheless, I remained a little nervous as I'd never been to the place where everyone had always talked about since I was a young 'un in uni...I'd been told that many naive Chickens hadn't come out of the place alive but I had been assusred, over the previous weeks, that I would be nurtured and looked after in "KIWIS"! Feeling extremely naive, I walked inside and was immediately met by a sea of heavily intoxicated individuals...Their speesh was slurred, they were unsteady on their feet and they smelt of intoxicating liquor, in my opinion they were drunk....doh, wrong diary entry!...I couldn't believe I was actually there...it was "tidy"! Every one of my expectations were met! For all these years I'd heard Ferg and little Mr. Parry talk about "KIWIS" and that one day, when I was old enough they would take me there...that day had arrived! One by one, the Love Chickens were walking into the den of iniquity! My heart began to pound again and I wanted to experience everything...from the talented female that Taz met all those years ago to Big Will being extremely thoughtful and offering his pineappple cubes (not from a crisp white paper bag though!) to fellow urinators...neverthless, I thought to myself, I must learn to walk before I try and run! As Phill May once told me at a Llanelli Scarlets Youth presentation..."You are young but you will learn!"
I had travelled all those miles from Hendy to Cardiff, met people who were/are now like family to me, experienced new and interesting ways of life but most of all what touched me the most and what made my day is that I knew I would return there again soon and be a Love Chicken!
Dear Diary,
My day began leaving the small village of Hendy, that is situated in the Costa Del of South West Wales. It's was about an hours drive to Cardiff and I couldn't wait to get there.
I'd been looking forward to this day for weeks! I was more excited than a young boy getting a second hand Sega Master System for christmas! As I'd previously discussed with Fergi, I was even more excited than when Emyr "Tarw" Lewis had that drop goal in the Arms Park when I was a young Turk in my red Harp Lager Scarlets jursey eating pop and crisps.
I hadn't been able to concentrate at all during the last week...Carmarthen had been like a crazy, thug filled, drug consuming scene from Hell! That's all I could think about during my long, never ending journey on the M4, was the day ahead! I knew that the company that I was going to be in could not be blemished and seeing many of them after a long 5 years would be as if I saw them yesterday in The Old Monk! I knew that people like the 6ft Jap...who nurtured me for many years , Mike "the Jamie Oliver wannabe" Stephens, The Sex Pest, Rhys "Top Man" Bach, Ferg and the only English man who claims he is Welsh Falls would all be there. All close friends who used to gather in the now fallen, but never forgtten Ponderosa, to play "f**k the buss"would be together again. Not only was it Wales v New Zeland but it was a gathering of brothers!
After my long tedious journey of trying to catch the eye of parallel female motorists I finally arrived in Cardiff where I met Jamie and Russow. Nice to see them but I had no idea what Russ was talking about as it appears that since he has moved to Rhoose Point he has become involved in some strange Ghetto! "Wapnin!"...what's hppened to "how are you butt?" or "ow are 'ew luv?" as they say in Gorseinon! Anyway...I was told that we were meeting a bus full of Love Chickens in a Brains pub called the "Tav"!...I was a little weary as I'm only used to drinking Felinfoel Double Dragon ale but I thought to myself "when in Rome!" I walked into this small, smoke filled public house with the landlord cutting fresh black pudding and ALDI mature cheese, on the bar ready for the half time festivities...again, it wasn't what I was used to but I thought I'd throw myself into the deep end and ask for three pints of Carling Extra Cold! After drinking several pints of cold lager, and ripping my tongue off the ice cold glass, the bus arrived! Amongst the constant traffic noise of the city I could hear the deep, rumble of the bus outside. My stomach started churning with excitement and my heart staterd to beat at a irregllular pace...one, two, three, four...when was it going to stop...one after another, they all walked in, heads bowed, through the small door of the public house! Christams has come early! Although I knew many of them there were so many new faces that I was excited to meet and be introduced to!
The initial meeting had now passed and we were all in the swing of things! We moved from pub to pub, sang nostalgic anthems and chugged beer with long lasting friends. Nevertheless, I remained a little nervous as I'd never been to the place where everyone had always talked about since I was a young 'un in uni...I'd been told that many naive Chickens hadn't come out of the place alive but I had been assusred, over the previous weeks, that I would be nurtured and looked after in "KIWIS"! Feeling extremely naive, I walked inside and was immediately met by a sea of heavily intoxicated individuals...Their speesh was slurred, they were unsteady on their feet and they smelt of intoxicating liquor, in my opinion they were drunk....doh, wrong diary entry!...I couldn't believe I was actually there...it was "tidy"! Every one of my expectations were met! For all these years I'd heard Ferg and little Mr. Parry talk about "KIWIS" and that one day, when I was old enough they would take me there...that day had arrived! One by one, the Love Chickens were walking into the den of iniquity! My heart began to pound again and I wanted to experience everything...from the talented female that Taz met all those years ago to Big Will being extremely thoughtful and offering his pineappple cubes (not from a crisp white paper bag though!) to fellow urinators...neverthless, I thought to myself, I must learn to walk before I try and run! As Phill May once told me at a Llanelli Scarlets Youth presentation..."You are young but you will learn!"
I had travelled all those miles from Hendy to Cardiff, met people who were/are now like family to me, experienced new and interesting ways of life but most of all what touched me the most and what made my day is that I knew I would return there again soon and be a Love Chicken!
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