Thursday, May 04, 2006

Deportation Bash 2 - Brighton

Having been 'demobbed' from HMC Tolent into a civvy lay about consultant role my immediate focus was of course to prepare for a second outing and leaving bash. This time the willing participants being the landed gentry of sunny Sussex by the Sea.

Having thrown the last of Jimbo's junk out of my flat to a passing rag and bone man, the final countdown slosh mission began with a neet doon the Moose accompanied by two irate scottish punters who immediately fell straight into stereoptype and started squaring up over what was the correct etiquette for tartan skirts. Still not sure what the ruling is but if I had to run a book on any ensuing brawl my money would be on the heavy weight second from the right. Mainly only because the featherweight in the blue corner on the far left has a tendency to swing at fresh air (if his squash skills are any thing to go by)

Waking up with a raging hangover and with zero food intake, the final days play of the final countdown commenced with 18 holes on Beachy Head. Judging by the state of my play some may have suggested I jump off there and then but a swift can of Carlsberg on the ninth tee saw a fine second wind kick in with a champion back nine !

Pushing through the assembled team moved on to the 'Stag' where of course standard form and practice ensued with the landlord press ganging his guests into drinking 1000 proof cocktails that would kick start a forty year old JCB parked on the top of Everest !

Staggering on and with more battle damage replenishments arriving thick and fast Brighton's own Brazillian joint played host to a last supper of what can only be described as 'great mexican food'.

Armed with vino in hand and a Sandra Dee behind team Brighton generally descended into chaos with people going MIA via the Gap, Stag and Moose. Of course the hardcore element held true to take a moose hit on the chin !
Rumour has it Rog is still there making sweet love to a donkey pinata called Chiquita with ABBA's greatest hits on repeat ???

Taking the opportunity to ensure a succesful arrival at Heathrow in good time for my flight to Washington DC I elected to pull the pin at this stage and offer massive thanks to Mike for a lightning quick transfer in his beemer to T3.

Heading into hour twenty something by this stage body failure and massive sense of humour failure was averted when I was informed upon meeting with Mig and Owen at the ticket desk that a Virgin executive lounge hit was about to take place ! Get in !

Two glasses of champers, a hearty breakfast of smoked salmon and scrmbled eggs, an eight hour flight and twenty minute walk later Stig arrives with A+O into the Alexandria local 'Chadwicks Bar and Grille'. A few Sierra Nevada Pale Ale's and rack of ribs in hour thirty something saw the end arrive !

To all those that I have spent the last eight years with in Brighty I would say to you that you are the finest group of people any one could ever hope to know and that I am honored to know you and call you my friends.

Now Roger...... put Chiquita down !!!

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home