Unfinished Monkey Business

I was deprived of the pleasure of witnessing the piratical 'Johnny 3: Revenge Of The Bum Numb-ers' earlier in the week, so in my hysterically bent state I set sail for Winton's hallowed Wimborne Road, which is, in fact, the main road through Winton. That's right, you heard me correctly, the main road through Winton is called Wimborne Road. I'm sorry? You'd like me to repeat that? You don't know where Wimborne Road is? Well, it's the main road through Winton. What is the main road through Winton called, you say? Funny you should ask. It actually carries the name of Wimborne Road. And don't you forget it. Oh. You forgot it? Don't worry, I haven't. Wimborne Road is the main road...etc. Ad nauseam (literally).

The course was plotted, but proved to be useless, so we threw it away and followed our twitching tails all the way to the Hop & Kilderkin in search of booty (the valuable kind, not sexualised arses) & bounty (the monetary reward, not synthesised coconut covered in substandard chocolate). We arrived just in time to get pissed for two hours with the Abbots before the monkey-based pub quiz began. We warmed up for the main event via the medium of Enrique Iglesias's blue plastic box & pizza. Of the six exciting prizes on offer at this most cercopithecan of quiz nights, we sailed away with four, snatching them straight from the gaping holes of the confused apes. It's a poor workman who blames his monkey.


Currently listening: Aman Iman by Tinariwen