Told this one already so apologies to my fans. I was on a cricket (of course) tour in Swansea, Wales, in the days when I could still play a bit. One evening the lads say “Let’s go to so-and-so club - it’s wet T-shirt night tonight”. I reply, “I haven’t brought a T-shirt”. I was 26.
We know what tea towel is hanging on your Aga, Dead Cat.
Dalai Lama: Jolly good, thank you.
Have you ever shot a man in Reno just to watch him die?
[QUOTE=Knowed Out]
Which way do the toilets flush down there?
[QUOTE]
Funny you should ask. Soon after I first came here I was living in a remote place called Tai O. (Yes, it is a stupid name.) The place was a bit basic and there were no flush toilets. So when you needed to “go to the bathroom”, you had to squat (froggy-style) over a pit. We used to chuck lime in the pit every day to, well, you know. I didn’t “go to the bathroom” for eight days.
I deplore racism and ethnic stereotyping. Orientals are human beings too, you know.
English please.
Wrenchslinger, we play the abbreviated version of the game here. Umpiring just occupies me from 9.45am to 5.30pm on Sundays (twice a month). Did I mention I still play on Saturdays?
I work for a very results-oriented company. Quality not quantity. Plus, I add value.
Keep 'em coming!
No, I neva da-done that. ('Scuse the stutter - I should never have swallowd those stones)
Why, Roger, why? And in front of the dog?? Really, you know she’ll never breed now.
Portia, it was a moment of weakness. The dog has forgiven me. Why can’t you?
Tell us the thing about you that you are most afraid of us asking about.
Tell me a story.
What was your earliest memory?
Tell us about the first girl/guy you fell in love with.
Tell me a story. I’m bored. I want a drink. Are we there yet?
I wanted to sell my gall bladder on ebay, but the surgeon wouldn’t give it up. Bastard.
Yeah, but sometimes they all look alike. (Blatantly stolen line)
What is your favorite music genre? Name five or six of your favorite pieces in that genre.
Also name five or six of your favorite movies and books.
What single book has had the most influence on your thinking?
Boxers or briefs?
I find that comment both gratuitous and offensive. My wife looks much nicer than those tarty Thais. I’ve heard Jap birds love western meat, though, so I’m off to Tokyo with the lads at CNY.
Classical (especially choral - I sing tenor badly in a choir): Brahms’ German Requiem, Elgar’s Dream of Gerontius, Rossini’s *Petite Messe Solonnelle * (did I spell that right? I can’t be bothered to google and am getting so relaxed with this that I’m willing to lose a little cred); Mozart’s Magic Flute (operatic perfection); Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 15 (K450) (I got the cassette tape off my brother as a kid, have subsequently taken it with me around the world - well, to Hong Kong - have played it a thousand times, and have always dreamed of conducting it one day - pathetic, I know), Chopin’s Nocturne in C Sharp Minor (as featured in The Pianist - had to google that one - couldn’t get the key wrong).
The Bible has had the most influence on my thinking, although less effect than I would have liked on the way I live.
Gee, this is gloriously self-indulgent.
Favourite books: The Open Society and Its Enemies (Popper), The Brothers Karamazov (Dostoyevsky), Schindler’s Ark (Kennealy), *Homage to Catalonia * (Orwell), The Four Loves (CS Lewis)
Favourite films: North by Northwest, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, The Deer Hunter, Annie Hall, Taxi Driver
I hate boxers!
Cricket? Umpiring? Those books! That music! Egads! I mean, what do you do for fun?
Poor Rog.
P.S.: You haven’t answered Girl From Mars yet. We’re all waiting…
OK, Starvers, since it’s you and we’ve shared, in company with your favourite older woman(!), many a glass of Merlot over these past few months, I will answer Girl from Mars’ question about my first love.
How perceptive of the distaff Martian to write “girl/guy”! She (it?) must have sensed my secret past. When I read those words, a frisson of - I don’t know - guilty pleasure, I suppose, shot through me as I remembered my very first time.
Even to this day, I cannot hear the name Gerald mentioned without being momentarily stopped in my tracks, as if I were reading a nice gentle thread about favourite religions and suddenly came across a post by Gum.
I was young, a callow public schoolboy, naïf and trusting in equal measure, and Gerald was everything that I wasn’t, everything I looked up to. He had the wit of Nightwatch Trailer, the wisdom of CK Dexter Haven, the erudition of Polycarp, the urbanity of matt_mcl, the class of Eve, the worldliness of Tentacle Monster, the worldweariness of Diogenes, the compassion of Incubus, the tenacity of Marley, the vivacity of Shirley Ujest, the levity of SentientMeat, the subtlety of SolGrundy, the modesty of Liberal, the eyes of START, and the bra size of Kaitlyn. I was smitten.
Alas! it couldn’t last. As Keats once wrote, though, “Hope may vanish but cannot die”, and I live in hope of rekindling the passion that I once knew. What happened to our love child, I will never know. That was my choice. That has been my choice. It will ever be my choice. That is the path I have chosen. I have no regrets. Except perhaps that I didn’t find out.
Like a manatee that dies if it doesn’t keep moving when the retirees in flip-up sunglasses take their speedboat for a spin in an attempt to recapture their lost youth, I must wear the scars of my healed propeller wounds with pride.
Roger, thank you for sharing this touching and modestly amusing story with us. It was both more than I could hope for and less than I could expect.
Ah, well…c’est la vie.
I guess we can’t all share such a tender yet crushing experience and expect to come through it relatively scathed in the way that you have. It’s unfortunate that your first experience couldn’t have been with the highly experienced lover who first opened to me the doors of love. Had you been fortunate enough to have entered those hallowed portals – as had so many before you – you would have been blessed with memories that remain unsupplanted to this very day by those who were to follow afterward.
Alas, such was not your fate! Thus you have been left a hollow shell of a man, looking for such modest pleasures as can be found in the sound of a cricket bat or in the words of CS Lewis.
But, zut alors! You still have the wonderful Merlot!
So life is good, yes, no?
Cricket in HK - Horrible Kookaburra balls?
Or have you got Duke’s balls?
But, all kidding aside, that was hilarious, Roger! This thread has racheted up my already high estimation of you manyfold. You are indeed one to be taken seriously. My compliments to you, sir.
ParknShop or Wellcome?
My next question is; why should we ask you any more questions? I want some signal that you recognise our attention spans to this thread may be short, I want to see you fight a little for survival.
Come on - why shouldn’t we fire you?
Also, what happened to Gerald, and is he now your Chinese wife?
You’re psychic, sir. The balls are soft after 15 overs. I remember the days when they were hard.
marky33, I’m a Wellcome man myself by choice, but usually a PnS man by necessity.
Okay, the amah does the shopping, anyway.
Girl From Mars, you’re a tough nut. I like you. I have not heard from Gerald since that fateful day nearly 30 years ago. I believe, though, that he got the Headship at Harrow. And as for why you should want to ask me any more questions, I cannot speak for the others, but as for you, I immediately re-directed your emails to the Junk folder when I received the one entitled ‘Faster Than Ever’. You want to communicate with me, you do it here. Hon.
Starvers, you’re most kind.
Have you not read the memo? You’re all Chelsea fans now. Them’s the rules.
I’m anybody’s if they offer enough money. A pony will do.