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Thursday 29 May 2003

Weapons of Mass Constriction [am]

Well last night, we came, we saw and we 0wned ourselves through the medium of beer. When it comes to swinging the mighty pooning stick of self-twonking, we rock and of course, of a wednesday night, there's nothing we like better than rocking hard. Am, Lurks, Dr Dave, Spiro, Skeeve, Vagga and Jay exchanged a few insults in the clan's spiritual home, The Dickens, and awaited the entrance of mobile redwood and nu-media guru The Brit. Amazingly he came and even more amazingly he held in his size fourteen paws The Rugby Shirts.

The Rugby Shirts! Oft told were tales of the mythical Rugby Shirts which had entertained children at their mother's knee through generations! A beautiful chimera, a fabled mirage, the Rugby Shirts of half-light and rumour. 'The Rugby Shirts!' the populace of the Dickens cried as one (although it might have been 'did he just call him a luckbard?'). We steadied our drinks. Strong men gazed at the heavens and pretended grit was in their eye. The Rugby Shirts!

Well reporting in, one has to say they're very swish indeed. The coloured check is actually very nice indeed - the grey and blue are the sort of colours that you'd grab if you saw on the shelf cos they are just better than 'normal stuff' and the stitching of the logo etc is absolutely top notch.

Dr Dave immediately divested himself and slipped into a medium and showed it off. Now, Dr Dave is a man of precise demeanour and a trim fella with it. Looked at another way, it could be said that he makes a twiglet look like a beach ball. His medium clung to his manly b-splines and the logo shone. The not-exactly-house-sized Spiro slipped into a large and declared that he made it look good. After the cessation of coughing and clearing of beer from the table, it was agreed that Spiro was not to tell any more funnies.

'Here's yours' said The Brit 'They didn't do XXL's'. He handed me an XL. I looked at the good Dr and the Cornishman and had the beginnings of a small doubt. I fingered the cloth. It stretched. Now inbetween the toasting of crumpets, dewy green lawns, Sunday cricket, ironed broadsheets and brogues, there's something slightly worrying to my concept of englishness in a rugby shirt that stretches. Regardless, we consumed beer, we laughed ourselves silly and returned home.

12.30am, my gaff, the hall landing. A couple of points of information were established. Rugby shirts now stretch. This is fashion. I am therefore old. Things that stretch are designed one size too small. Am is not an L that thinks it's an XL when an XL wasn't an XXL. Whether in the mirror or looking down, it is now clear this torso should not be clung in Weapons of Mass Constriction which in this context probably are banned by international treaty. Oh dear.

The rugby shirts are incredibly fine. But mine's going on the wall of my den. Until at least someone hides really rather a large number of pies.....


  1. Yes, my medium clings to me like a second skin, empashising my svelte, manly curves (ribs).
    Nevertheless, I imagine that the forthcoming results of Project Bowling Shirt (tm) will conceal your personal pie storage facility.

  2. Hmmmm Pies....... Looks like I'll be in the same boat as similarly girthed Am then. What waist are you Am? Are you the biggest EED leviathan?

  3. Still awaiting Brit to tell me how much monies I owe him.

  4. lol...Me, Slim and Am are going to have the best den room walls of the clan!!I always liked the wetsuit look anyway!

  5. The cost of the shirts is £24.00