Swimming and Chin Up Report

With absolutely zilcho happening in regard to progress with the Grudgeathlon in the UK, the Grudge party decided to head over to Choceň and see if our two excusemakers would actually get on with the next events. The Grudge party consisted of the ASBO, Tomas, Grudgemeister and two assistant GM's, Stara and Kunda. All was set for a top 5 days of Grudging. No more excuses possible, these two Grudgepussies had to get it on, or forever wear a white feather.

Saturday dawned, and whilst the crew of GrudgeAir Flight001 went through their preliminary flight routine, and stocking the additional Guinness required by Stara and Kunda for the trip, tragedy once again crash landed smack bang in the middle of Grudgeland. Whilst Tomas slept soundly, dreaming of Storks, his brother, Dr Evil, got to work on sabotaging the Grudgeathlon.

Dr Evil - sorting out ASBO at the pre flight cocktail party?

As anyone who knows ASBO would vouch, the chances of him being caught leaving pub at 3am would be zero, but that's exactly what the Cheating Czechs had in mind. Tomas' plan was about to come to fruition. Dr Evil achieved the impossible. He had kept ASBO in a pub till 3ish, then, as they were leaving, put his brothers instructions into motion. A quick tip of the ASBO ankle saw ASBO flying arse over tit, landing awkwardly on Grudglewood Broadway, severely spraining the ASBO ankle. Fortunately, ASBO was so pissed (yes, I know it's hard to believe) he managed to make it back home to Cell 23-D, only to wake up in the morning with an ankle the size of Litomyšl Castle.

Litomyšl Castle - A real tragedy about the brick work....

ASBO was straight on the blower to Grudgey, who immediately deduced he'd been the victim of a dastardly plot concocted by the Cheating Czech. Grudgey promptly went about sorting out some crutches, but unfortunately, we were in England where Pharmacists don't see the need to sell cructches, unlike their counterparts in sensible countries like, say, Australia, or Grudgemerica. At any rate, ASBO's desire to drink large quantities of cheap pivo and tuck into a trough of hovězí guláš s knedlíkem meant missing the trip wasn't an option. Tomas, whilst feigning concern, couldn't hide the smirk of his face for long, and to be fair, neither could the rest of us.
Once again, the Grudge party hammered up to Luton to link up with GrudgeAir001 bound for Prague. Landing seemed a fairly regulation affair, though one passenger was so overcome by the presence of the Grudge party he just simply couldn't contain his delight. The team was quickly through customs and heading off towards Linka A and Dejvická, then to the Rudolfinum for a quick beer with Hsenim, a geek of unkown sexual preference trying to figure out which side of the plate he'll bat by spending a weekend in Prague. Suffice to say, the chocolate cha-cha merchant didn't show.

Onwards by rail to Choceň, or as Grudgey likes to think, by the Midnight Train to Georgia.

Upon arrival, we were met by Brad Pitt and Big Tomas, the latter taking the luggage back to the House on the Hill, whilst the rest of the party made a bee line for downtown Choceň, the action attraction of Pardubický kraj. Bar 1 apparently sold the best Gambrinus in Czech, and it'd been even better if we had this waitress bringing it to us.

tři piv prosim........Máš přítele?

Tomas hooked up with the local Cheech and Chong, whilst Brad attempted to hook up with Sally, an American exchange student who looked like she'd drunk more beers than the entire Grudge party that weekend. Crestfallen after the now traditional brush off, Brad decided to escort Tomas home, as he looked about as fucked as a bloke could be without being dead. (This is actually untrue, as we proved later in the week). Whilst at Bar 1, we'd managed to pick up a camp follower, Hal I Tosis. My worst farts smelt better than this fuckers breath. Perhaps it wasn't Cheech and Chong who finished off Tomas, it was this fuckers breath! All that was left for the boys to do was head off to the Chinese Kasino and work on tomorrows hangover. Stara and Kunda were the last to leave, sometime round 7am for the trek over Suicide Bridge.

Sunday: headed down to the Paul Dickov Memorial Bar (the first of undoubtedly many bars to be open in Choceň by footballers) with Big Tomas and Big ASBO -in-law. Whilst Manchesteru United and Arsenal battled it out on the big screen, the boys settled down for a few quiet frothies, with Stara and Kunda continuing their search for Czech Guinness, this time in the guise of Kozel. Nice move boys, that Kozel tasted like it was 'brewed at the source'! Whilst the football ground on to an inevitable Arsenal cock up, a vision appeared on the far corner of Choceň town square. Could it be? No, that would be too good to be true..........it might be... hang on, it is........

BARA! BARA! BARA!

In your face ASBO!
Bara flaunts her new beau...you're knocking on a door that wont open mate!

She just couldn't keep away from ASBO, could she! Christ, she was more of an opposite of town bike than I remember. At the time, I wasn't quite sure what effect this meeting would have on ASBO, but I guess the sight of his one true love in the arms of another (and a gormless dweeb to boot) perhaps sent him over the edge. At any rate, ASBO would shag tonite, the only question being, would it be animal, vegetable or mineral that would cop the ASBO schlong? Read on, the 20 questions will be answered.

Stara (or Kunda?), Big Tomas, Little Tomas, ASBO, Brad and Kunda (or Stara?)
outside the Paul Dickov Memorial Bar, ready to head off to the Sticky Beaver

The Sticky Beaver, home of the Czech Republics finest potato pancakes and happiest barmaid. Alas....the Beaver was closed for Sanitation Day....can you believe it? It'd take more than a day to de-Sticky-fy the Beaver. Back for a feed at Pellini's, an upmarket bistro on the chic side of Choceň town square. A nice feed of potato pancakes and pork, washed down by a couple of glasses of Pilsener had the crew primed for a big night at Choceňs showcase venue, the Chinese Kasino.

The Chinese Kasino....it's not all beer and skittles

Unfortunately, Brad had to leave as, quelle horreur, he'd gone and got himself a job. One Czech down, one to go thought ASBO, steam still pouring out his ears after Bara had rubbed his hooter into the dirt back at the Dickov Bar. Andrea(?), the new barmaid at the kasino was quick to get the boys onto the beers, quick in the sense that she emerged 5 minutes after we got there from the dark recess behind the bar to pour the pivo after finishing off a snog with her boyfriend. Tomas, ever alert to a lawn mowing opportunity duly checked out the competition, and found he was just another pencil necked geek like Mr Bara. What has happened to all the real men of Choceň? Are they all in NW2?

Grudgey headed off to the recently replaced roulette wheel, the previous one being destroyed by Dr Evil on his last visit home. Stara and Kunda spent the next half hour attempting to locate Village People songs on the juke box, whilst the Grudgeathletes settled by the bar to indulge in the only competition they seem bothered with these days, attempting to drink the other senseless. Andrea suggested to the boys a shot of 'Stancho' water, a highly potent form of the local destruction juice. ASBO went for the '82 vintage, though Tomas, ever the bon vivant preferred the '28.

Andrea: "Who's for the 28?"

Drink for drink was traded, and the bar bill mounted to something approaching £5 (!!!!!) as two finely tuned athletes attempted to destroy each other. Grudgey returned from the tables to gain a ringside view as these two Goliaths of Grudgeathloning went for it. I actually can't remember much of what happened after that, but there's only one winner, so let's see who it was.

And there was worse to follow....you can bank on it!

To be continued.......