NOT I SAID THE WALRUS
Holy Sheesh kebab!
After giving the big un on the phone to Griggsy at Bells this morning about how 'we don't get winter anymore' it turns out that I'm a bell lord coz it's absolutely Baltic right now. Jack Frost's evil digits descended to probe whatever holes they could get a purchase of, mine being one of them. The north wind is whistling down Avenue Paul Lahary in Hossegor and frosting up the windscreen of twelve million Wasque camper vans here for the braderie, a masssive sale of surf gear that happens every easter here, emptying the cities of San Sebastian and Bilbao in the process.
I popped into Euroglass this afternoon to see Christian Islands who was freshly sanding a 5'10" and a 6'0" for some dude called Kelly something. Christian is leaving on a jet plane tomorrow, direction Bells Beach to personally deliver the devilshly good looking rafts to the 8 time Champion du monde, howzat for service?
I'm going back to Blighty tomorrow for Easter, picking up my ma from leafy Royal Berkshire in the pm and then heading down to Plymouth for a couple of days and then down to Cornwall to stay with the Ingos to celebrate the torture and death of Christ, with its holy chocolate egg ritual. It's Spillage's birthday on sat nite so we're goin Watering Hole in Perranporth, maybe see your ass there. if you're heading to the bar I'll have a southern comfort and lemonade and a packet of dry roasted and my mum'll have a yard of ale and a red aftershock, please. Actually, the trip back couldn't come any sooner coz we're getting dangerously low on marmite, are completely out of Branston pickle and I'd pretty much do anything for an onion bhagee.
Have a good easter pepes, try and stay warm and whatever you do, don't let Judas Iscariot sell you out to the Romans for a measley twenty pieces of silver. Chyoooo!!!