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Fanuary; Beating about the bush?

December 8, 2013

Over the first pint with Simon “who ate all the pies” Barrett, I recall discussing music. I wondered if a DJ who had once played at Glastonbury, but no longer did so, might be able to claim that he no longer mixed in those circles? It was the precursor for a very fine Sunday lunchtime, where the only food on show was the spread of cheese, crackers, sausages and pork pies at the Kings Arms.

Proceedings had commenced at The White Hart, but with That Nice Lady Decorator rediscovering her dislike of local real ale Harvey’s, and expressing this discovery rather too loudly, we decamping to the Kings, which was one of several options, the decision swayed by its outside area where cigars could be smoked. It was the kind of day when cigars will always be smoked.

Before setting off, Simon the Pieman, so called because of a marked increase in his waistline (and every other line) of catastrophic proportions over the past few years, committed an error of judgement of the type much beloved by a self styled columnist such as myself. The doors between our kitchen and living room are just that; doors. In normal circumstances and with people of normal girth, only one is required to be open to allow passage from one room to another. Yesterday however, the second door had to be opened to allow the Pieman to enter.

Larger people can be extra jovial, and so it proved yesterday lunchtime. I did not stop laughing for about 4 hours, after which I still had a smirk on my face as we returned home to regather for lunch today with Mr Clipboard and others at Chiddingfold. I cannot remember the exact point at which discussions began to go downhill, and enter a smutty but nonetheless amusing area. Perhaps it was the revelation, made to me in confidence, that as it was the Pieman’s birthday, certain extra items of clothing (none of which were designed to provide extra warmth if you get my drift) were secreted in his wife’s suitcase ready for some kind of birthday treat last evening. I had earlier questioned the lovely, willowy and beautiful Debbie as to the exact nature of this clothing and what precisely she wished to achieve by wearing it, but I am afraid to say that In my opinion I did not get a full and honest answer. Even when I suggested that given the paucity of information, and a readership depending upon me for lurid details, coupled with my renowned sense of invention, the truth might be easier to see in print than anything she might reveal to me, the arch blogger and promoter of the foreign exchange services of Currencies Direct, but she still refused to reveal what she had in mind and what in entailed.

kings arms on a Sunday

The Fanuary discussions commence

I blame this conversation for the genus of the following discussion. It began with references to my very fine handle bar moustache and whether, now the Movember has finished, I might consider reverting to something more normal in terms of facial hair. I blame That Nice Lady Decorator for the rapid downwards (literally) spiral of the conversation into areas into which I would usually like to delve; Fanuary.

For those unprepared for a trip into the world of private female hairdressing, which has nothing to do with the hair on ones head, please look away now. By this time we had been joined by several other gorgeous young ladies, including flame haired siren Carolyn, and, fuelled by rather too much beer and wine, I am afraid to report that discussions became rather louder and lewder that The landlord Charlie Pistorius Malcolmson’s other customers might have hoped to have overheard, especially on a Sunday. It seems that the term “Fanuary” has similar connotations in terms of the grooming and styling of hair for females in the month of January, as Movember does for men and moustaches, and although some of my recollections are a a littler hazy, I believe that there is now a plan, hatched yesterday, to have some kind of exhibition of the results from the girls of their efforts at the end of that month . It will be an unshakeable date in my diary, except of course for the fact that when they all awake this morning, it will be quietly cancelled and put down to excessive alcohol consumption. However, the whole concept sent me to sleep happy last night.

Chris France

One Comment leave one →
  1. Rev. Jeff. permalink
    December 9, 2013 3:17 pm

    I’m shocked and I must say I wonder
    Are there no murky depths he won’t plunder ?
    Well I hope he’s bedazzled
    When the girls all vagazzled
    Show more than the Test Team ‘down under’ !!


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