Friday, 29 May 2009

How I Miss Thee

You were my comfort, my happiness and my soul mate. I will never forget the fun times we shared together. Those happy, laughter filled days/nights spent playing Halo 3, Left 4 Dead and Killzone 2. Remember how you team killed me during a Capture the Flag?. Oh how we laughed. But I got my revenge when I teabagged you later on that same night.I will never forget those times.

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That fun filled day we spent at Rednal where I cradled you in my arms and wouldn’t let anyone else touch you on the way home.

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Do you remember how we laughed the morning after as I regaled you with stories of my bravery and how I did it all for you and only you?. Those other fools thought I was playing as part of a team but we knew better. I gave you a solemn promise that I would never let you fall into the hands of the Polish Army. No matter how much pain I had to endure it would all be worth it in the end.

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As I write this I find myself thinking back to the day when you turned up at my flat. My heart was thundering with anticipation and as I peeled open your box my stomach was in knots. I pulled back the last few strands of wrapping paper and there you were smiling back at me with that cheeky smile of yours. I picked you up and cradled you in my arms like a new born baby.

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Our first night together was magic. I will not go into specific details here, but the way your handles rubbed against me still makes me shiver. You did things to me that would make a porn star blush but I loved every minute. I was as helpless as a baby in your handles that night but you showed me the meaning of true love that night. I woke up that morning full of vigour and a feeling of unquantifiable love.

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We had our arguments,

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but a love like ours burns brighter than the sun and can never be extinguished. We were always honest with each other and that is why our relationship worked so well. So when I kissed you on the handle that morning as I left for work I thought everything was fine between us.

Imagine my surprise when I came home from work that afternoon when I saw this.

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You were already out of the flat and making your way to God knows where. I pleaded with you to tell me what was wrong. You never answered me. Tears welled up in my eyes as you continued down the road. I ran after you and scooped you up in my arms swearing to God that I would never let you go. Then you hit me with that bombshell.

Trophy “I don’t love you anymore”

Me “What?”

Trophy “I don’t love you anymore”

Me “But why? What have I done? Please tell me. I will change anything you don’t like. I will even go on a diet(a complete lie by the way)”

Trophy “Its not you, its me”

Me (Confused) “Why? What have you done?”

Trophy “Nothing yet. You wont understand”

Me “Tell me please. We can work this out”

Trophy “I need to be with another man”

Then it dawned on me. Our last night in bed, I remember you asking me if it was ok if you called me Craig. I thought nothing of it at the time I just thought you had a crush on someone famous, but now the revulsion welled up in my gut. You were thinking about HIM.

As I handed you over that afternoon only one thought entered my mind. You will be mine again, this I swear.

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Friday, 22 May 2009

Rednal...This Time It's International.

Those of you who have followed the adventures of The Gentlemen will recall that some time ago a small band of brave souls went to Rednal to test our mettle in combat, and a resounding success it was. Many a tale has been told of that fine day and perhaps those tales led to the impressive turnout when we once more kissed our loved ones farewell, and with the cry of "Come home with your shield, or on it" ringing in our ears, we faced our fears and went to our destiny.







It was at the traditional meeting place of Warriors, namely McDonald's, that we met, some were quiet and nervous, others rowdy with a forced bravado, more still got stuck into double Sausage and Egg McMuffins and cared not, that the cammo face paint was running down their cheeks.




When the bus arrived, driven by the ever dependable Mr Smith, we loaded our bags and climbed on board, only to realise that several of our Polish comrades had disappeared to stock up on liquid refreshment. As we sat waiting a poor innocent young man, whose job consisted of giving away free samples of a chocolate snack, wandered too close to the bus, he barely escaped with his life, needless to say, the sound of chomping was prominent for several minutes afterwards.




Once the missing Gentlemen had returned, we set off, this time in convoy, the bus leading the way with Mr Sailsburys' party in second place followed by the car driven by Mr Maciejewski.




Upon arrival at Rednal we were greeted by the sight of those Gentlemen who had made their own way there, an impressive feat for Mr Hughes who had had to ring the President en route and ask for directions!




As we got ourselves kitted out, the veterans of the first battle helped the new recruits with the complexities of body armour, Gareth, the man in charge of the day, introduced himself and explained the rules of engagement. He then called the sides to order "Gentlemen of the Polish Army to the left, and everyone else to the right". It quickly became apparent that the sides where unbalanced and volunteers where called for to help out the Eastern European side.





Several Gentlemen crossed the line,to jeers of derision, amongst them, Mr Smith (Chasing another trophy), Mr Worral and unsurprisingly, Mr Hollis whose stated ambition it was to "Take Out" the President.




As we faced our opponents we realised that it would again be a battle of youth and military experience versus middle age, chronic unfitness and three girls.




Ah yes, three of the so called gentle sex had thrown away the stereotypes and joined us in combat, they stood next to us shoulder to shoulder staring down the Polish side, who could barely contain their snigger's as they stared back.





The first battle was capture the rocket with the largely (but not wholly) Welsh side defending, after some eight minutes of intense fighting the rocket was captured by the Polish Army and we went to the rest area to catch our breaths and stare in disbelief at how many paintballs we has used. The air of confidence on the victorious side was not so much obvious, as rude, with some name calling, laughing and pointing of fingers. Now we were on the attack and after only six and a half minutes the rocket was ours, giving us the points in the game. Suddenly the atmosphere changed as the catcalling came back to haunt our opponents.




Gareth, at this point, decided that he would keep the times and scores to himself to add to the tension of the day.




And so we fought on;




The highlights of the days fighting are many and varied, I will give you a taste of just a few;




Mr Richards deciding to make a heroes leap of more than 6 foot into a trench the bottom of which was covered in rocks, unfortunately he broke his ankle, but for commitment to the cause, Dewi, we salute you.




Mr Jones for his astonishing running commentary on the battles as they happened, I can only quote the words of Mr Ross Sailsbury who told this tale in the pub afterward, "I was fighting by the bus when Jez shouted "There are three of them advancing by the building" I thought to myself, I wouldn't have said advancing, but ok. The next thing Jez shouts is "They are flanking from the left", now I don't even know what that means!"




The President for his pure enjoyment of speedball. He may only run once a year, but boy, it is a sight too see.








Mr Adam Maciejewski for taking a hit in the family jewels and going down like a sack of spuds.




The complete lack of concern for Mr Maciejewski's well being by our team members or even his own, apparently taking one in the goolies is funny in Polish as well!




Mr Craig Sailsbury for screaming "I'm in I'm in I'm in I'm in I'm in" when wearing the VIP vest.




Mr Greg Sobczak for taking it all far too seriously. He looked really really annoyed when his side started to lose.





Mr John Hollis who never said a word all day, and come to think of of no one can remember seeing him during any of the battles.







Mr Scott Millward for going home after half a day (well at least he turned up this time).




Miss Claire Fryer for keeping score of how many kills she had all day, and enjoying every minute it would seem.







Mr Peter Karpeta for his demonstration of the tiger crawl by the tyres, it wasn't meant to be funny but it was.







Mr Smith and Mr Jones for being presented with sergeants and corporals stripes respectively.








And finally my good self for getting shot in the stomach from 4 inches away and getting rather cross about it, for a while anyway.







When all the battles had been fought and all the paintballs fired, out came the chilled beer and the bullshit started to flow in earnest.





After a short while Gareth called everyones' attention and announced that the winners were......US! Somehow we had won.



Old Men, Fat Men and Girls had won the day.





The shock of victory took us all by suprise no one more so that our good President who celebrated with a war dance that would have made Billy Two Rivers proud.




The winners where then presented with a golden medal each and a magnificent trophy was presented to the President who only grudgingly let go of it for the rest of the day, and then only so photos could be taken.








On the journey to the Pub the mini bus had a strangely quiet atmosphere as the alcohol started to kick in and the aches and pains began to introduce themselves.




After dropping Dewi off at hospital to get his wounds treated we carried on to our destination.




Once we had arrived things livened up with stories of heroism flying thick and fast, Mr Smith in particular seemed to claim every hit made that day.




Sadly, soon enough several Gentlemen started to drift off home, some with tales of valour and some with their tales between their legs knowing that they would be reminded of this day many many times over the coming months.





Just as everything seemed to be drawing to a close a cake arrived in celebration of Mr Sailsbury's 40th birthday, and what a cake it was... Mr Sailsbury kindly brought some into work on our next shift and he was soon left with crumbs and memories.































As another successful outing drew to a close everybody raised a glass in thanks to Mr Steven Millward, our fine President who had organised a tremendous day for us all.



























Don't forget Gentlemen that in September we shall be indulging in a little Motor Sport. I look forward to seeing you all there.

Wednesday, 29 April 2009

The Night Before the Dawn of War

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It has been a strange few months for The Association. Our last Outing to Riley's in March passed with barely a whimper and April saw The Association refrain from any kind of alcohol related shenanigans. So it is with a head full of dreams and a heart racing faster than A Grand National winner that I find myself writing this post. With less than 18 hours to go before the great Wales Vs Poland Paintball match, I find myself taking comfort in a few cans of Stella and I am sure a few pints of Guinness later on in the pub which I will truly regret tomorrow morning when I am running/walking/crawling around a forest being shot at by irate Polish men and so called friends.

The banter in work over the last four days has been none stop. I have begged and begged people to stop talking about it but alas my moaning fell on deaf ears. We have all heard Mr Salisbury and his fantasist ramblings, Mr Jones and his none stop “I was in the Territorial Army” guff, Mr Hollis and his veiled attempts at talking a good fight, Mr Smith and his blasé  attitude towards winning yet another trophy, Mr Higgins acting more excited than Mr Shaw in a dusty old Whisky cellar, Mr Richards and his constant beaming smile whenever anyone just looks at him, anyone who is of Polish descent pointing and laughing at us and two of my most trusted associates. Mr Ian Hulmes constantly telling me how he is going to shoot the shit out of me (Cheers mate. So much for all those years of friendship/hard labour) and Mr Matthew Hulmes constantly saying “I am dead excited. I can’t Wait”, “Is it Thursday yet? Is it Thursday yet?”, “What time you picking me up?”, “Where are you picking me up from?” and “ I am dead excited. Is it Thursday yet?”.

Just remember Gentlemen. Our mission is one up the upmost importance and with that in mind I give you a photo of our most wanted.

 

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There is very little left for me to say tonight apart from enjoy your peaceful night while it lasts. Tomorrow is a new dawn and a glorious dawn it will be.

 

Sons and daughters of The Association,
This much I vow.

The history of this day will be written in blood.

By crushing the armies of our enemy,

by seizing the weapons they thought to turn against us,

we are fighting for our very existence.

But if there are those who would deny us peace,

refuse us our rightful place in the universe,

than... we will unleash such TERRIBLE VENGEANCE,

THAT GENERATIONS YET UNBORN,

WILL CRY OUT IN ANGUISH!!

The enemy may shatter our bodies... but they cannot break our spirit.

Even now, they advance on our homeland to seize by force, what they cannot claim by right. They cannot imagine what awaits them.
We will SMITE the invaders from our country!

For they sweep over our lands like the sands of winter.

Never again will we bow before them.

Never again endure their oppression.

Never again endure their tyranny.

We will strike...

without warning

and without mercy.

Fighting as one hand,

one heart,

one soul.

We will SHATTER their dreams,

and HAUNT their nightmares.

Drenching our ancestors' grave with their blood!

And as our last breath tears at their lungs,

as we rise again from the ruins of our cities...

They will know... The Association... belongs to The Gentlemen. 

Wednesday, 11 March 2009

Lost At Rowan Foods

Gentlemen, a small black diary has been found on the yard at Rowan Foods, It has no name only the tyre marks of a fork lift truck impressed into its cover. In an attempt to trace its owner we have decided to publish the entry from one day. If anyone wants to claim it back you know who to contact.
MONDAY 23 FEBRUARY
I woke up at 5.55am just before the alarm went off. This was it, the day had arrived, that trophy was going to be mine...
Put on my tracksuit and went for a three mile run and followed it up with a cold shower, no warm water to distract me from my goal of victory...
Breakfast was a carbohydrate rich porridge, made with water (no losers milk for me) and salt (sugar is for runners up), a champions breakfast..
Read over my preparation notes just before leaving, all my opponents games had been critically scrutinised and analysed by an expert in the USA, not cheap, but to get that trophy on my mantelpiece, any price is worth paying...
Met up with the boys (a.k.a. the losers) in the pub, quietly ordered a shandy, I didn't want to drink but I had keep up appearances and encourage them to drink as much as possible.
On the walk from the pub to the bowling alley (the soon to be arena of my triumph) I kept taking in huge breaths of air while silently repeating my yoga masters chant " breath pure white victory in, blow dark black defeat out"...
After getting another shandy (I never finished the first!!). I got out my customised bowling ball(It had cost a packet to get it painted like a house ball) and we started the first game...
After three frames I was a mile ahead of everyone else on my lane, and then I glanced at the scoreboard on the other lane, OH MY GOD, The President is actually BEATING me!!! for a minute I panic, then gain control of myself , I went to the toilet, locked myself in a cubicle and sat in the lotus position for a couple of minutes, and let the panic leave my body, his game will break down, I repeated to myself, if nothing else the Guinness will see to that...
Sure enough a couple of frames later and I am in the lead by a HUGE margin...
The once and future champion..
Those fools on the other lane have been trying to bowl as fast as they can, I let them play their silly games for a while and the KABOOM!!! I shatter their pathetic little record. Ha! they are no match for a true athlete like me...
Finally the trophy game, I draw a satisfyingly late number The scores start, a 5, beaten by a 7, Then Stuart knocks down a lucky 9, which stands until my turn...
A 9 to beat, I can match that in my sleep, a strike will win it...
I pick up my ball, walk on to the lane, I centre myself and just as I start my mental preparation a cry of " GO ON MY SON" breaks my concentration , I step forward and bowl...
The instant the ball leaves my hand I know its no good, a dark wave of despair rises over me and the bile rises in my throat, I am not going to win...
The darkness start to close in, I cannot feel my arms or legs, what little light is left starts to spin faster and faster, the demons of defeat mock me with their cackling laugh, how can I go home and face my family with this shame ?
Swallowing hard and pretending it meant nothing I turn and face everybody Their faces are a blur...
I cannot recall what happened the rest of the day I just kept replaying that awful moment...
As I write this my eyes are welling with tears of regret...
Still next time its Pool, and now THAT IS MY GAME.

So Gentlemen if anyone knows who this diary could belong to , please let him know it has been found
Many thanks.

Monday, 2 March 2009

A Tale Of Balls and Polish Sausage...

As we gathered together in the welcoming surroundings of the Horse and Jockey under a traditional thatched roof, the traditional greeting of "A Pint of Guinness, please" was heard, quickly followed by the equally traditional "and can I have beans instead of tomatoes please?", it became clear, The Gentlemen were about to start another outing.


After a feast of various fried and grilled bits of pig and chicken embryo (and Guinness) we left the pub, and started to make our way across Wrexham towards our destination, the bowling alley in the excitingly named "Eagles Meadow".


As we crossed the newly built pedestrian suspension bridge into the new development, a strange feeling passed through us, we were moving in an unexpected way... the bridge was bouncing, ever so slightly. It has yet to be determined whether this was due to a design fault in the bridge or the collected mass of some of our more, substantial gentlemen, all walking together.


Unfortunately the new shopping area proved a lot less exciting than its name, it is a carbon copy of so many new developments, but still, it held the bowling alley and, therefore, the bar.


Once we had all got ourselves a much needed drink (we had walked nearly half a mile you know!) and put on our rather nifty bowling shoes, we got ourselves into position and started bowling.


It soon became clear who was the best, and most consistant bowler, a certain Mr Barry Smith. He bowled with an economy of movement and level of accuracy that cried out for investigation.


Under interrogation Mr Smith admitted that one of his close friends is a regular bowler who plays for a recognised team, and, even though he strongly denies it, the suspicion is that Mr Smith has has a training session or two from his semi professional friend.


As the newest recruit to our ranks it was a great pleasure to see Mr Howell Davies attending his first outing, and although I am sure Howell will agree that he was no match for Mr Smith in the bowling stakes, he more than held is own when it came to bending the elbow.


It was a shame that two of our comrades had to leave us early namely Mr Politanski and Mr Sailsbury, however the positive side to Mr Sailsbury leaving, is that his delightful lady wife and children came to collect him. It was sad to see him leave, but with a cheery "Yes dear, I'm coming dear". Mr Sailsbury bade us farewell.


Once again a magnificent trophy was awaiting the winner of our killer competition and for a change a complete outsider won. Mr Roberts with a deadly accurate bowl, took the glory. I am sure that he will be only too happy to fill in the details of his famous victory to all who where not present to witness it for themselves (in the picture, Mr Roberts is the one not wearing glasses).


As our time at the bowling drew to a close we were kindly invited to the home of Mr Witold Waryszak to enjoy in some eastern European hospitality. Once more we took to the streets of Wrexham, and as we strolled, our President and Mr Roberts had a fine old time reminiscing about their boyhoods spent on the very streets upon which we were walking.


Upon arriving at Mr Witold Waryszaks' abode, we were seated at the table and presented with a plate of Polish sausage, which was eagerly devoured by all, and a bottle of a strange pale yellow liquid which caused a few anxious glances to be exchanged between The Gentlemen.


The label was indecipherable to those of us unable to read Polish, But a picture has been added for you to have a go yourselves. The taste was a strange mix of sweetness, herbs and a kick of alcohol which after the first shot grew rather pleasent. After we had killed the bottle and watched a film about a skiing trip (good luck on organising that as an outing Witold), we took our leave to end another fine day out.





Here's looking forward to the next.

Sunday, 1 March 2009

Chuck Hollis in "I couldn't make it because I had to make pretty doilies for my knitting circle"

Paintballing 14th May 2009

Gentlemen, it gives me the greatest of pleasures to announce our next Paintballing adventure. On the 14th of May we will once again put our lives on the line for the glory of Oscar Mayer and its many Associates.

We have already pre-booked this date and the seventeen seat minibus has already been paid for. Now comes the most interesting part, the cost. The entire day will cost £25 each.

What do you get for your £25?

12 Games
Day runs from 10.00am-4.00pm
approx and includes lunch

Multiple missions
Experienced marshal's
Protective overalls
Full face masks
Body armour
Gloves
Balaclava
Semi-automatic weapons
Free gas
Battle pack with four canisters

SPEED BALL

(THE PRESIDENTS FAVORITE)

The first team to get the flag from the middle and take back to base are the winners. Speed and good team work is required for this mission.

VILLAGE AREA

Storm the base, One team defends while the other troops close in on their opposition and steal the flag.

TRENCHES

Take cover as speeding paintballs whistle passed your ears. The trenches provide safety, but watch out for intruders.

THE EMBASSY

One team rescues hostages while the other defends the building using snipers to keep the opposition at bay.

FORTRESS

One team will defend the fortress while the other team strategically storms in launching the missile.

The minibus is also included in this price and will also cover petrol costs. Any remaining money will be spent on trophies for the day. The only other cost will be your paintballs/grenades:

100 £7

200 £13

400 £24

600 £35

800 £45

1000 £54 (plus free smoke grenade or flash bang)

Smoke Grenade £3

Thunder Flash £3

Paint Grenade £4

Thermo Grenade £4

ALL MONIES MUST BE PAID BY THE 18TH OF APRIL.

ANYONE FAILING TO PAY BY THIS DATE WILL HAVE TO MAKE THEIR OWN ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE DAY.

THERE ARE ONLY 8 SEATS LEFT

We will also be going out on the lash to recover from our war wounds.

Unlike our usual sessions we will not be booking a restaurant. We will be going to The Plas Coch for the night where anyone who wants food can just order off the menu.

For those of you that need a break down of the costs see below:

£14 is the cost for a full day’s paintballing including 100 paintballs

£6 is for the minibus and the fuel

£5 is for trophy/trophies

Friday, 20 February 2009

<center>Coming Soon May 2009</center>