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Golf lessons and a broomstick

August 8, 2011

The Bufton barbecue was a resounding success. Roly’s marinated butterfly lamb was sensational, as was the content of the conversation, which, although rather polite at the outset, gradually descended to the normal dank depths of innuendo and gossip palpably appreciated by readers of this column.

First in the line of fire, even although he was not invited, or if he was, did not appear, was our resident magistrate, the man without visible means; Mr Humphreys. Had he been there, I am sure he would have been free. The trigger for his involvement in the discussion was sartorial style. I ventured the opinion that he was my style guru, and was prepared to defend that assertion to the hilt. Anyway, after the laughter had died down, I was asked if I had thought about the concept, “does he dress himself?” Now he is a grown man, so I am certain that he does, but the females amongst us were of the firm opinion that actually he was dressed (literally)by his wife, the delectable and artistic local painter Helen Humphrey.

The suggestion was that he could not even do up his shoelaces, but I suspect that is a terrible untruth. Suffice to say there was a good deal of discussion about mauve, purple and other colours in the same spectrum, all beloved by our friendly neighbourhood J. P.

Included in the guests invited was the wonderfully well endowed (sorry Lin) Jude O Sullivan who claimed that she loved things that were tasteless. I am sure that is true, and I am sure also that she loves her husband, John, indeed she was toasting from here secret stash of Baileys kept in her handbag.

John, who was full of his usual vitriol about the English (800 years of repressing the Irish, etc etc) then began rambling on about how gay men always seemed to find him attractive. When asked to provide an example, he cited a recent golf lesson (John, forget it, it’s too little too late) where the gay professional told him he was gripping his club too tight, an obvious jumping off point for some rather basic and lurid comments, mainly from the girls it should be said. It seems that Johns “admirer” wanted to show him exactly how to grip the club, and there was some rather lingering touching going on, and a very touching moment of gazing into each others eyes, followed by the expert standing very close behind him demonstrating to him precisely how it should be gripped. I suggested that after ten minutes in such a position, perhaps he should have tried to break free? Perhaps John was secretly enjoying the broomstick sensation from behind?

With my phone camera again letting me down, my picture today was taken the day before from the train into Cannes for lunch.

La Bocca beach from the train

Eventually that nice lady decorator tired to the point of sleeping and then snoring ever so gently at the table, having hoovered up as much white wine as her tiny frame can hold, and so I had to break off from a detailed explanation of the mechanics of the benefits of opening an account with Currencies Direct and take her home.

Monday is traditionally recovery day and I fully intend to use it wisely, and at least part of the day will be spent in the recovery position, which in my house means the hammock will see some usage.

There is talk to golf on Tuesday, and if it takes place then I do hope I will not have to restrain Rupert Scott from attacking fellow players with a 5 iron as so nearly happened last year.

Chris France

6 Comments leave one →
  1. Chris Frost permalink
    August 8, 2011 11:43 am

    drollity indeedy

    Like

  2. Cathie Van Der Stel permalink
    August 8, 2011 12:05 pm

    White wine for the nice lady decorator.
    Highly recommended by the Friday night girls drinks club, & (unlike rosé) flatulence free, UBY Colombard-Ugni Blanc. Cotes de Gasgogne. Available Wine shop Plasscassier.
    xx Cathie

    Like

    • August 8, 2011 12:12 pm

      The Friday night girls drinks club? sounds great, can I come?

      Like

      • Cathie Van Der Stel permalink
        August 8, 2011 2:29 pm

        Can you come? Are you a girl?
        Does this require a response?

        Like

      • August 8, 2011 2:54 pm

        I could dress as a girl, indeed some say I already do…..

        Like

  3. Cathie Van Der Stel permalink
    August 8, 2011 5:24 pm

    Yes, it could work, though without prior knowledge of your wardrobe (yesterday your attire was constantly compared with that of a Catholic priest) may I suggest you consult Helen.
    Please note that there is NEVER any red wine, relatively few of us have facial hair and neatly cut carrot sticks are an obligatory offering along with the dips.

    Like

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