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Reveries of a Solitary Rugger (HMSLX Part Three)

My, but how a bloke's fortunes and self-respect can take a tumble in the course of a single hour! At 4:30 in the p.m., he's sitting, with feet securely stirruped, astride his Unprodigal-Filial high...

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Had Meself a Shi(r)ty Little Xmas: Part the Last

Well, suffice it to say, I arrived back at McGyver Manor at seven o'clock-con-cambio on Christmas Day Eve with considerably less fanfare than I had seen fit to accompany me at the same hour two days...

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Post Baggage

I suppose it's only fitting--nay, well-nigh obligatory--for me to remark, as I launch into this here post, that it at once sets and closes out a record in the five-month-con-cambio-long history of The...

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Ape Night Afterdusk

Well, as promised in my letter to LaMont Mörike-Jones, the North London Arsenal-Bashers did indeed meet up at the Ape night before last. Unsurprisingly, Mr M-J himself failed to make an appearance;...

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Ape Night Afterdusk: Part Two

'So, you're saying,' Steve hazards, 'that we might as well pack it all in, disband, and--horribile dictu--encourage our dispersed membership to report to their respective local Gunners'-fan-club...

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Basher's Delight

Corrigendum to the closer of my last post: for lives to bash another day read lives to wish he’d died that very day. I know it doesn’t scan properly, but fuck it; at least it accurately renders the...

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Yarnfacker's Bank Holiday

It is with no small degree of Shah-grin and cuntsternation, DGR, that I initiate the typeage of this here post by reporting to you on the unprecedented viscosities of ins-pissation attained by my...

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Basher's Delight: Part Two

‘No, no, no,' says Manish. 'Let me explain: We’re not asking for a new table, an unoccupied table. We’re asking to be shown to a pair of unoccupied seats at an occupied table. We’re expected, you see....

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Basher's Delight: Part Three

'I'll tell you what it is that marks it as uniquely Kennish,' a chirpily stroppy feminine voice twitters in from my immedjiate right. 'It's that it doesn't make any bloody sense.'I swivel my head in...

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Un Amour de Rugger

My apologies, DGR, go out to MFCT for the long gap between posts--not that it's all that long as far as recent inter-postal gaps go (in fact, after you've factored out gaps between multi-postal...

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Un Amour de Rugger: Part Two (of...?)

I hope the reader will excuse my be-schmootzing of the upper panes of the editing window of the present post with a spot of commentary on the whole of the last one. Felletur lector: I by no means...

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Regent's Park Well Before Dark (UAdR: Part Three)

OK, so, to take up the thread again: It's about half-past nine. last Saturday morning, the morning of the 20th--'--Don't you mean, It's exactly 19:45 last Wednesday evening, the evening of the...

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Regent's Park Well Before Dark (and Marylebone Slightly Before and Well After)

Seizing Esmeralda's hand, and yanking on the dog leash so as to extricate Lucy from between my ankles--where she's been sandwiched, cowering and whimpering with her tail curled between her own ankles...

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Poft Baggage

Time, DGR, for a trip in Ye Olde Wayback Machine to re-visit a simpler micro-micro-epoch: a micro-micro-epoch when You Tube was but the well-nigh exclusive haunt of Weird-Al-Yankovic-video-swappers;...

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Un Amour de Rugger: Part Four

Yeah, perhaps you were right after all, DGR--perhaps I was (and please correct me if I'm overstating or distorting your typographical-void sayngwiching implication here) taking a dip in that notorious...

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Un Amour de Rugger: Part Five

So, then: immejiately upon our (Jimmy's and my) ejection from the 3 Oceans, I staggered home to give my guarded kiss-&-make-up ring to Esmeralda. Actually, now that I look at that last sentence,...

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The Angry Londoner's 2006 World Cup Special

So, DGR: now that I've brought the rough contours of the terrain of the Esmeraldan sector of my official, publicly-available lifeworld-map in line with the most up-to-date private...

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The Angry Londoner's 2006 World Cup Hangover Special

'So here we are then, at the top of the next post. And before you proceed, as promised, with your chronology of the next solar day, I should greatly appreciate your filling in a couple--erm, make that...

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The Education of Rugby McGyver

'It's just like chocolate,' says the good doctor, withdrawing an embrowned, latex-swathed middle diggit from me girl's poo-chute.'Ah, yes,' I concur with a would-be-sage nod, on the basis of a hunch...

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A Year of Stroppiness in the So-Called Blogosphere

You know, DGR, I was just opening the editing-window of the present post when I received a phone-bell from Esmeralda. And whilst switching off the blower at the end of the call--without, however,...

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The Education of Esmeralda Houghington

'Well then, MDF: now that we're safely on the far side of the non-coded postal border, I gather I am finally at liberty to re-pose the question I so untowardly broached on the near side thereof.''You...

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The Education of Esmeralda Houghington: Part Two

Well, it's AFT, wouldn't you say, DGR?'I'm sorry,MDF? "AFT"?''"About Fucking Time."''About F****ing Time that what?''AFT that you're being graced with a post fully O'Koran with the calendrical date of...

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Take Back the Night (Again)

'You really do try my patience, MDF.''How so, pray tell, DGR?''Well, in first prematurely cutting off the last post on the grounds of "sleepiness"--not, however, without first promising me a post-haste...

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A Rugger's Xmas in Wales

Yeah, it's been a while, I know. Naturally you lot are probably still wondering whether anything ultimately came of H.R.H.'s belated cruise-by of the Ape on Bloke Fawkes Night--'--I beg your pardon for...

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A Rugger's Boxing Day in London

‘Christ! That was quick.’‘Was it really?’‘We lot’ll say: a two-day turnaround interval on your end? Why, for a precedent you’d have to go all the way back to the primeval autumn months of...

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