Wed Chain Gang - Part Deux "It's not big and it's not clever"

Been quite a week, what with 'Sausagegate' and all that.  When Steve emailed me to say he had to apply his virtual black marker pen to last week's 'Part Deux',  I was a little concerned at first, but once he had reassured me that it was only because I might have caused offence in some quarters, and not because of anything grammatical - I would hate to think I had allowed another split infinite to slip through 'Part Deux's' quality control section - I felt a sense of relief. I shall be starting my own protest this week by opting to take the bus in the future for any long journeys (don't worry Steve, put down the 'marker', it's too subtle).  When all said and done, I am, like a lot of people in fact, new to to 'blogging',(my previous experience of 'journalism' being restricted to Cultural Affairs editor of 'The Times') so I am not always 'pitch perfect' and It appears I may have 'ruffled a few feathers' last week.  And so, as an act of contrition and shame,I shall (mostly) point the 'poison pen' inwards this week. Before I commence 'Part Deux' I would like to clear up one point: there are several members of the club who write interesting and very 'grown up' blogs - aimed at adults - my blogs, will on occasions, have an infantile content; possibly including the odd 'trouser tomfoolery' reference. Of course all are welcome to read them, but they are perhaps best enjoyed by the less mature members of the club (you know who you are!). Some people are proud to say they are 'in touch' with their feminine side; I am definitely 'in touch' with my inner child. I am surprised, quite honestly, that I found the time to write the blog this week; what with arranging my 'Whoopee Cushions' into a musical scale from b 'sharp' (dry)  to d 'flat' (wet) - you were warned!

First Chain-Gang For Stuart's Impressive  S-Works 

I had to stretch the 'old legs'  before I sat at the computer as I'm fresh out of the 'dog house'.  That's not to say I didn't deserve my 'time'.  Mentioning Steve's proposed french trip on Valentines night wasn't the smartest move I've ever made. Having said it, I immediately reached around to the back of my collar, hoisted myself on to tip-toes, and marched myself in - all the while slapping my own legs.  Once there I locked the door from the inside and refused any supper. In fact, as well as timing, it's also down partly to a misunderstanding: I posed the question 'Would you mind me going to France, with a few of the lads, for some serious cycling?", Vicki misheard me and thought I'd said: "Would you mind me going to France, with a few of the lads, for some serious shagging?".  Once I explained that Steve wasn't that kind of guy, things seemed to improve (although Mal C does have a look of 'party animal' about him.)

One of the joys of Wednesday night is arriving early and seeing the regulars turning up; although it was a bit of a strange night last night with a lot of the 'faces' missing due to the 100m Audax (sounds like awfully hard work that!).  "Oh, here comes Tom (with the merest hint of sock showing), and look there's Neil ( looking resplendent in his new Supers' team kit).   Oh, and hear comes Simon (I bet he 'got' the sausage joke and probably had a little chuckle - I'll wager.")  Neil ('the guv'nor') gave me some good advice when I started writing Part Deux: "Pick on the 'soft targets'; you know the ones who don't seem to mind?".  Simon seems to be happy with a little gentle teasing and has also been very encouraging about my blog - so I really like him and feel we are beginning to bond. I am also particularly pleased/relieved when Steve C arrives, because, as much as we try to put some distance between ourselves, we always seem to gravitate towards each other at the end of the ride.  I think that the moon would have more chance of escaping the clutches of the earth than we have of escaping each other! (I guess we could speak to Chris about borrowing his tandem?)

 I do make some guest appearances with the 'Wannabee-Supers', but I am generally happier at the back with the 'Fasts'.  You will note that I have arbitrarily changed the category names.  This is mainly because whilst tucking into my 'small breakfast' (with extra egg) at The Bakery last week, Chris informed me that the term 'Chuggers' has already been taken and refers to a 'Charity Mugger'.  So not wishing to be accused of plagiarism I have replaced this term with 'Fasts'.  (So now we have: 'Supers', 'Wannabee-Supers' and 'Fasts'.) There wasn't really much to say, from my perspective, about the outward leg, apart from that when within 100m of the roundabout I was victim of a stealth attack from Steve D., who slipped past,effortlessly,  leaving me rocking in the maelstrom of his wake.  On the way home there was a massive battle for superiority between Tom and I - the like of which has not been since the famous Anquetil /Poulidor battle on the Puy de Dome during the 1964 Tour de France.  Oh, yes I know my TDF history all right! (only slightly aided by Googling: 'famous battles of the TDF'.)  Shoulder to shoulder we fought it out, neither of us prepared to give an inch.  I did marvel at Tom's ability to stay mounted as he rodeo'd his way over several pot holes and drain covers whilst emitting loud shrieks of  'way hay'  - only momentarily releasing his grip on the 'drops' to check his 'tackle' was still in place. Eventually we made it back, with me the clear winner - (well it is my blog) - seriously, Tom 'edged it'.

Apologies for the brevity of the piece this week, but I am currently working on a 'mini-series' - hopefully I will release Part Deux (Part un) next week, also, I'm quitting while I'm ahead so as not to risk any more offence.

Peter Buss