The Fate of the Fete!

Hello there and Happy Line- up.

Here you see 4 of the 6 of us Improper types...if you can guess which one I am...you win the prize. Kind of harkens back to the days of Dragnet and that great film about the 7 guys who rob something and then all get caught and there's this wicked twist to it and then....and then, Ok ok I can't remember the name of it now and feel like a real muppet (Bert OR Ernie..not at all picky about this part) Please see below if you are in Cornwall, England as we have an upcoming show on Saturday, July 1st, in Bodmin. Promise no shoot outs or performances in cages....although that COULD be fun and remind me of home. Being a Yank and all. Or I guess we could say Burmingham and that would work just as well. Getting back to the rant at hand- today we went to a Village Fete. Now I say "we" and when I do I mean myself, my rock n roll husband and our little fairy princess, who turns the ripe ole age of 5 next month! She was all dressed up as a Flower Fairy and actually managed to win the first prize in the costume parade!! AKA fancy dress competition for my other English readers.......as Bill Bryson so kindly puts it, "we are 2 countries divided by a common language". Hey, I've got it- it's The Uusual Suspects"!!!! Yeah, Kevin Pollack is in it (he asked me out on a date once, but that's another post). Anyway, a good time was had by all at the fete- although I must confess to being saddened, irked, crest fallen and even a little depressed by the lack of the one thing that makes the yearly Village Fete fun for little ole me................THE CORNISH WRESTLING!! They didnt have it this year- hey they didnt even have any people telling us why they didnt have it this year! No announcement, no special flier declaring their heart felt apologies, no banner telling us WHY , oh why wasnt it on? Nooo nothing for us Wrestlin groupies that so desperately wanted to see those too stretched shorts covering those Corn- fed bodies of theirs, the bulging biceps and shiny shaved heads, the gleaming calf muscles and taut beer bellied selves still reeking of ripe ales and rollies. I waited at the usual spot- glued to it until my husband wrenched me from my fantasy fueled gaze and instructed me to buy plants. Harumph- how can he even think that some droopy sweet basil could possibly cure my thirst for some good ole male mud- wrestlin!! Ah well, home now I console myself with luke warm coffee and my sweet memories. Hey maybe later tonite I can surf awhile and if the gods are with me- find an old episode of Beverly Hillbillies. The big strapping Elvis looking rope belt wearin, possum eatin, well meaning boy -Ahhh Jethro.....until we meet again.