Crabs, Cream Teas, Poodles & Pasties...

Welcome back blog fans... (Theres 7 of you now, Im thinking about waiting until I get another 5 then renaming you disciples, stay tuned and someone remind me in case I get sidetracked...) 

As you will no doubt be aware, the past 3 postless weeks that you have been forced to endure have been because I have have been fannying around with the long suffering Mrs Dickfingers to some of the furthest and most exotic corners of the Earth... or to be more specific, France and Cornwall. 

To make up for the no-doubt intolerable absence of my fascinating (educational AND entertaining) posts behold a special superduper extra special Holiday Edition length post:

The first week was spent in the charming Medoc region of France, (its near Bordeaux, don't worry, I had to check too)

Arriving in France, I did exactly what any Globetrotting International Cultural Chameleon would do to integrate seamlessly into French life: I hired the smallest gayest car they had, bought a baguette, peed in the open without being drunk, then found a vinyard. Right after these photos were taken, a confused couple asked me for directions as apparently I looked so French they figured I must know my way around (only don't ask anyone as they'll only deny it...) 

The only thing that slightly undermines my otherwise immaculate Gallic Assimilation and betrayed my Brits-Abroad roots, can be seen in the following picture: I went to the beach...

Unfortunately and unbeknownst to me, there appears to be a newly registered French law that dictates any adult male within 50 metres of a large public body of water, should remove all clothing and parade around nonchalantly flopping their hangdowns at everyone, trying to maintain eye contact for as long as possible to make all repressed uptight Englishmen in the area (me) feel as uncomfortable as possible... In one week in France I believe that I saw more leathery European winkies than any man ever should... In short blogfans, don't go to a French beach unless you have a deep-seated desire to see more balls than Elton John's chin...

All this was quickly forgotten when I found a sign to Brest (which bizarrely they don't find funny)

...and shortly afterwards, saw a poodle with a ribbon tied round it... Apparently I just missed the old man with a Beret, bicycle and a Stripy Jumper as he had an urgent appointment at Stereotype HQ but I may have better luck next time

France was amazing, however, for all the things that they do have over England, force fed animals with amazingly delicious fat livers and cavalier attitudes to public nudity being some of them, after a while you realise what you are missing and have to go home. In my case to spend a week in a deserted field in Cornwall and eat more Pies, Scones and Tea than is probably wise...

 

Here is Dickfingers Base Camp: 6 hours and a lot of petrol away from HQ and fucking cold when it rains. Which it did. Often. 

As if being the home of Cream Teas and Pies wasn't enough, Cornwall proved to be a veritible...thing of stuff to do. In between "sleeping in a carrier bag" and "avoiding rain" we managed to get crabs (snigger)

and found the (apparently) famous Jamaica Inn (the site of another Cream Tea) where I proved that no matter what monumental historical site you take me to I will somehow work out a way of posing next to it to imply its my widger...

I also found time to paddle thereby completing all necessary holiday rituals

 

As if that wasn't enough, using my Mr Miyagi-like skills I managed to snatch a fly out of the air using nothing but my shitting hands... find another blog with fly snatching, go on, I dare you. 

Next time: Something else.

Team Dickfingers and The Greatest Boards Ever...

This Saturday, while Mrs Dickfingers left to go galavanting around the Emerald Isle leaving me to fend for myself and get my own tea for a few days, (thanks to all the blog fans that offered to cook me my tea you ungrateful shits, after all I give to you...) I went to Mad Mad Monks Team Game Of Skate... a wonderful collection of sweating blokes in a field orchestrated by the chief Homo: Mr Monk, who should be your first port of call for thinly veiled threats of homosexual rape and other general hilarious unpleasantries...

He was ably assisted on the day by Mr Mark Nicholson, long time Death Skateboards Professional and thoroughly nice bloke, who incidentally looks like a right bad man in this here shot...

 

Before I go on, I should take time out to explain to our non skating readers (Sonia & Fran, who I work with and have been forced into reading this blog by peer pressure and the threat of doing more filing) that "Skate" is basically the same as "Horse" in basketball: One person sets a trick and the other person has to repeat the same trick or get a letter (and in this case a loud question about their sexual preferences broadcast over a cheap shitty megaphone.)

Here I am, looking like a portly bearded windowlicker, shortly before organising Team Dickfingers: an eclectic slice of Skateboarding talent with varying styles and attributes on the board... We had Mr John Seaman and Jerome, who largely comprised the raw natural talent and would be heavily relied on for actually doing tricks, we had the "Artist Formerly Known As Cockleg" who provided Pressure flips and other obscure maneuvers, we also had another guy called John, who I met about 5 minutes before our game and didn't have any other team to go on. And there was me. Who provided the team name. Which was pretty vital to be fair. I would naturally consider myself as having a "Player/Manager" type role in the whole episode which consisted of everyone else doing tricks I suggested, inbetween my occasional Frontside Shove It and Bigspin.

This is a picture of our first match up against Team Cundall, or Haircut 100 as it was quickly redubbed. Team Dickfingers are perched on the left, awaiting to deliver a swift and violent arsekicking to Cundall's team of Vestwearing Bumworriers on the right. Cundall can be seen, hands on hips, in the Blue shirt, with Acid-wash skin tight jeans and a hair cut, the likes of which hasn't been seen since Ultravox. He was seen leaving almost immediately after his swift and violent defeat, having also been told that he couldn't join another team unless he played stark bollock naked...

Anyway, we managed to progress through the game reaching the Finals where we were narrowly beaten by Radman's team, who in our defence, had a professional skater and Radman, who like his name suggests, is rad and capable of doing just about any trick ever set. Ever. He managed to knock us out with a 360flip-Body-Varial which I have never seen anyone else do one. I dont think that anyone with the possible exception of Craig "50% extra free" Smedley could beat him. In short, we were buggered but did the best we could... 

Shortly afterwards there was a best trick format thing in the bowl which allowed me to roll out My One Trick, which earnt me a new hat (keen eyed readers will know my feelings on hats)...

...and allowed Death Flow Rider Mikey Patrick to fly shitting miles above the coping and embarrass fat older skaters like me....

It then started raining and I got a bit cold so we went home and had a sit down and I put my new cardigan on and watched the telly and it was pretty good to be honest. 

In preparation for THE BIRTHDAY OF THE YEAR which is arriving in 4 short days (and I swear to God that if you shits don't at least write a comment on here then you'll be subjected to the biggest internet sulk known to man) I decided to get myself an early Birthday Present and treated myself to these amazing pieces of kit right here:

Roger Skateboards are just about the greatest (and by greatest, I mean funniest) thing to ever happen to skateboarding and thats not just because I have some of their boards and am a bit pissed whilst sitting here writing this... any company that calls themselves "Roger" and has a board emblazoned with "Ghost with a Boner", a "Me So Horny Unicorn",  a "Trouser Snake" and who claim their company is based on 37% Skateboarding, 63% Weed & Tigers is alright in my book... Any Birthday presents can be purchased from there...

Keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming review on Caught In The Crossfire soon...

Toby has recently informed me that as amazing as this blog is, and I think we can all agree on that, I should attempt to tackle some issues of the day "like Gays, Aids & Abortions" so here goes... Gays are alright as long as you don't bum a dirty one and get Aids which isnt alright, but even if you do you won't need an abortion which are kind of alright as long as you arent too religious... Glad we cleared that one up... If you need any other deep searching questions answered please contact me as soon as: I'm here to help

More Updates Soon.... (maybe)