Welcome aboard the all-new, revamped and updated weblog thing. Pretty swanky, what? It seems somehow indecent to be sullying this smart webspace with my lowbrow medium-jinks and tiresome stories of drunken behaviour.
That's what's going to happen though. In fairness, having looked around at what the rest of the "blogging community", as they rather pompously refer to themselves, are up to, I feel this old vessel isn't so bad.
I think we can all take it as read that "The Simpsons" is an excellent television programme. It is scarcely bringing anything to the party to labour this point at great length, illustrating one's views with great lists of quotes from the show. We get the picture.
Similarly, most people will have concluded that George W. Bush is not the brightest chap on the planet. There is really no need to doctor a photograph of him to resemble a chimpanzee to drive home this rather obvious point. The world has one Rory Bremners already and I feel that is the absolute maximum we need. Many observers would set a lower figure, but then it has often been said of me that I am tolerant to a fault.
Anyhow, enough with this petty sniping, some say infighting. At least the blogging craze keeps these oddballs out of the public houses, which can only be a good thing. Let us move on.
This weekend I will be travelling to our nation's capital for the stag party of one of my closest and oldest friends. As you know, the Colonel is quite the globetrotter. I've been to Nice and the isles of Greece. Furthermore on occasion I've moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and quite the splash I made too. Yet despite all of this, I haven't spent a great deal of time in London over the years. The Smoke, as very few people call it, remains a closed book to me, but I am greatly looking forward to visiting the old place this weekend.
The nightlife in London city centre is apparently top notch. London High Street, I'm told, has more than fifty pubs, imagine that. There are posh bars, rough taverns, pubs where ladies take off their underwear and even a couple of inns where the gays can go. What a place, eh? Something for everyone, I'd have said. If one wants to continue drinking after eleven o'clock, I hear there over four nightclubs open at the weekend. Cheg on Amsterdam and New York New York, you am twarts.
Still, when visiting the big city it pays to be watchful. The bouncers at London's nightspots are all huge fellows, who carry brass knuckledusters and are skilled in the art of kung fu. Any messing on their premises and you'll get a swift roundhouse kick upside the head. Also, the drinking water in London is not to be trusted, having been filtered through at least eighteen sets of kidneys before returning to the water supply. For this reason it is best to give the draught beer a wide berth too. Mind you, the price of drinks is so reasonable I will probably just drink champagne while I'm down there. It can't be any more than a tenner a bottle, I reckon.
Anyhow, there will be thirty of us travelling down on saturday, so keep an eye out for a large group of northerners wandering around King's Cross, looking for a CIU affiliated social club, shouting on about Newcastle United and asking the crack whores if they "do a turn".
Gertcha , you caants!
(I have learnt a little of the lingo already, impressive, no?)