Rhubarb and Custard World Domination Society

After a particularly successful day chasing the Google StreetView car around Nether Wallop,
the Rhubarb and Custard Crew (RACC) took the news of another Curryttee Meating ( by the way, the speling misteak is intensionell) very well. The Public Relations Secretary immediately started dreaming of Meat Thali, as the Cool District Librarian just decided a vacant gaze might befit the occasion.
On a different note, there is no doubt that the new look they were cultivating was coming along quite nicely. It is called the ' Sinister Muttering Bus Station Vagrant' look. This look is well known to us all, and comes with its' own peculiar aroma. Fortunately the RACC have wisely decided to subscribe to just the appearance, and not the smell.

Medial Malleolus goes ashore

Medial Malleolus rose early, looked out of the porthole and saw that all was well. It struck him that it would be a lovely day for picking wild mushrooms, but first he would have to go ashore. A brief scull took him to his favourite beach, and as he pulled his raft above high water mark, he noticed curious footprints in the sludge.'Hmm, those are curious footprints in the sludge', he thought. As he picked his way through the land mines and dog eggs littering the beach, he whistled a merry dirge, mainly to confuse the vultures in the trees above. He found it difficult to walk in his flippers, and he wondered, not for the first time, why he had worn them to sail a raft. Still, never mind, they provided a 'slappy' percussive rhythm to the mournful ditty he was now singing.
When he reached his favourite mushroom plantation, he dropped to his kness and fell flat on his face due to the flippers he still wore. Whilst still picking loam from his nose, he became aware of a muttering sound nearby. Slowly sitting up, so as not to attract attention in the quiet woodland by causing his PVC lederhosen to squeak unnecessarily, MM squinted around. His varifocal milk bottles offered little by way of focus in the gloom, but still the muttering continued. The sound appeared to be coming from above. Tilting his head back, his wig fell off.
The sound was still indistinct. If he was a betting man, he would have wagered it was an off-colour rendition of 'Roll out the barrel', but no-one was allowed to sing it now in those parts, not after the great Greenall's Disaster of '67. Nonetheless, a big word starting with 'N' began the next sentence.
And then he saw them. Pine Tree Pixies.
'Roll out the barrel, roll out the barrel tonight,
Roll out the barrel, I can't quite fit in it, it's tight' wafted gently across the breeze to MM's hearing aid. They looked rather large for Pine Tree Pixies, thought MM. He squinted again.
If he didn't know better, he would have said the Pixies looked remarkably like Cool District Librarian and Public Relations Secretary.
The ditty continued. 'See you at the Clubhouse on the 12th' was not a recognised line in 'Roll out the barrel'. Then it struck him. It hurt, and knocked him flat on his ass. 'Don't throw things at me!' he yelled. '
Ah, sucks ya boo!' they replied.
It couldn't be Pine Tree Pixies. It had to be Cool DL and PRS. After all, pixies weren't invited to the Curryttee Meeting.

PR Secretary

A curious rumour has spread regarding our esteemed Public Relations Secretary, insomuch as he has been spotted out and about. Depending on who you speak to, the rumour has it that he has been spotted riding Vin Diesel's bike.

I, myself, find this slightly odd.
Having spoken to another witness, it wasn't Vin's bike. Rather, PRS was wearing Diesel jeans.

Yet another witness says these reports are both wrong, and that he actually smelled of diesel. This seems much more likely.

But even this turns out to be wrong.
The latest news suggests it wasn't fuel, but aftershave!


Frankly, dear followers, it all seems rather strange.
I await further developments with interest...

PR Secretary now known as Paul Budgie

We were awaiting the outcome of The PR Secretary's audition for the latest sequel of the ' Privates of the Colne Being' with some interest. There were those who suggested that he only auditioned because of the chance to 'get to know' Keira Knightley. When he discovered that she was not a fan of rhubarb and custard, however, PRS knew that she was not the girl for him, and he could never work with such a philistine. So, the audition never happened. Better luck next time, Keira.

Advertising Campaign

Meanwhile, the Cool DL and PR Secretary continue around the North West on their subliminal advertising campaign for the Pudding of Kings, better known as Rhubarb and Custard. The Cool DL yet again spots the Google StreetView car, and they set off in hot pursuit, on their quest to immortalise their favourite pudding by imprinting their red and yellow image on subconcious minds throughout the World.

PR Secretary

The Public Relations Secretary decided to go for the cropped look for the Curryttee Meating.

Not for the faint-hearted...

The Public Relations Secretary reckoned that getting dressed up on a Saturday night would double his chances of success. I await the results with trepidation.

'Look at the tiny lighthouse', said the Public Relations Secretary, excitedly.
Depth perception has not proved to be one of his strong points.

Obooto.

Paul was rather pleased with his purchase of a magnificent pair of magnetic boots. What jolly fun!

The Public Relations Secretary, Paul, makes his way in hot pursuit of our Far East Correspondent Phil and Master RouteFinder Mick to the Bellachroy Inn. This fine establishment is heartily recommended by The Oboto as a centre of fine food, Deuchars and malts. A magnificent bar that causes beer to teleport onto the table, and a clientele that one needs to meet to understand, makes for a very interesting stop.
Without doubt, the loudest swearingest pub in living memory. I love it.

Paul.
We take him places so that he can introduce us to the indigenous species. The wild women of Far Far Away have been known to find him alluring.
That is why they are Far Far Away.