UK MLP Meet 2011 - The Aftermath!

[Cookie-boy]

Picture if you will, dear reader, the aftermath of the MLP 2011 gig. Allow your computer monitor to go all wobbly and hazy like in the intro to Roald Dahl's "Tales of the unexpected" as we travel forward in time to Dorset in May 2011..............

Frank, dressed head to toe in black, mirrored Ray Bans perched on his nose smokes languidly from a Peter Stuyvasent king size. He sits at a table in the "Light of Asia" Indian restaurant in Bridport High Street. The table isn't actually booked until the following evening but as Frank told Mr Achmed the Manager "I aint's gonna be fwucked overs twice buddy, Capice?!"

Meanwhile, back at Haddon House Hotel the MLP members relax after the gig..........

The Kernel, clutching a Martini as dry as his wit sits quietly in a corner practising his pronunciation of the word "Bastard", a difficult nut to crack. Cookie, tanned and chiselled of feature sits resplendent in burgundy satin smoking jacket, cavalry twill trousers and purple velvet slipereens playing Gypsy jazz guitar. His dexterous fingers a-blur the haunting melodies soar into the night sky. Behind him, fresh from her sixth shower of the day, fragrant, lightly oiled and lubricated stands Harmony. She gently massages Cookie's manly shoulders, her heaving bosom rises as............at his feet sitting cross-legged and behaving themselves is MLP's answer to Jedward, young Stowburst and John Beloe.

Drudeboy, now a toothless crone, sips intermittently through a straw between a pint of lager and a pureed "all day breakfast" as he explains to Ann Vasco how her husband over strained during a high bend on "Sylvia's Mother" (he played that AGAIN??) and induced a reverse fart resulting in the gusset of his shorts getting sucked up past the small intestine. At that very moment he was in casualty at Bridport Memorial Hospital, his feet in surgical stirrups as a Filipino nurse armed with an industrial stirrup pump attempted to reverse the procedure. BrianGT, his hair in heated Carmen rollers ready for the morning, puts a consoling arm around Ann.

Meanwhile, somewhere in suburban Dorset...............

Phil, looking like a shadow of shite is knocking on the door of 5, Acacia Crescent, Bridport and asking for a kettle of water (his fifth of the evening) for his overheating Peugeot. He eventually arrives when everyone's ****ed off.

Meanwhile, back at the venue.................

An irate Landlord, having called in the police, watches with some satisfaction as Liam and Flameburst are physically removed from the stage having played "Little Wing" some thirty times. "Oi! Steady on! That's old wood!" cries Liam as he's held in a Scrotum lock.

Meanwhile, back at Haddon House Hotel...........

Snaresy, having removed the imitation 18th century French Musket from it's anchor above the fireplace in Reception has barricaded himself in his room. Crouched behind the upturned "Corby trouser press", an empty bottle of Smirnoff beside him and his Med's balance off the Richter scale he holds the Musket aloft "No bastard copper's gonna take me alive!!!" he shrieks as a disinterested Albanian chambermaid makes up his room and tidies up his jizz mags.

[Dogsy]

Originally Posted by Cookie-boy

Picture if you will, dear reader, the aftermath of the MLP 2011 gig. Allow your computer monitor to go all wobbly and hazy like in the intro to Roald Dahl's "Tales of the unexpected" as we travel forward in time to Dorset in May 2011..............

Frank, dressed head to toe in black, mirrored Ray Bans perched on his nose smokes languidly from a Peter Stuyvasent king size. He sits at a table in the "Light of Asia" Indian restaurant in Bridport High Street. The table isn't actually booked until the following evening but as Frank told Mr Achmed the Manager "I aint's gonna be fwucked overs twice buddy, Capice?!"

Meanwhile, back at Haddon House Hotel the MLP members relax after the gig..........

The Kernel, clutching a Martini as dry as his wit sits quietly in a corner practising his pronunciation of the word "Bastard", a difficult nut to crack. Cookie, tanned and chiselled of feature sits resplendent in burgundy satin smoking jacket, cavalry twill trousers and purple velvet slipereens playing Gypsy jazz guitar. His dexterous fingers a-blur the haunting melodies soar into the night sky. Behind him, fresh from her sixth shower of the day, fragrant, lightly oiled and lubricated stands Harmony. She gently massages Cookie's manly shoulders, her heaving bosom rises as............at his feet sitting cross-legged and behaving themselves is MLP's answer to Jedward, young Stowburst and John Beloe.

Drudeboy, now a toothless crone, sips intermittently through a straw between a pint of lager and a pureed "all day breakfast" as he explains to Ann Vasco how her husband over strained during a high bend on "Sylvia's Mother" (he played that AGAIN??) and induced a reverse fart resulting in the gusset of his shorts getting sucked up past the small intestine. At that very moment he was in casualty at Bridport Memorial Hospital, his feet in surgical stirrups as a Filipino nurse armed with an industrial stirrup pump attempted to reverse the procedure. BrianGT, his hair in heated Carmen rollers ready for the morning, puts a consoling arm around Ann.

Meanwhile, somewhere in suburban Dorset...............

Phil, looking like a shadow of shite is knocking on the door of 5, Acacia Crescent, Bridport and asking for a kettle of water (his fifth of the evening) for his overheating Peugeot. He eventually arrives when everyone's ****ed off.

Meanwhile, back at the venue.................

An irate Landlord, having called in the police, watches with some satisfaction as Liam and Flameburst are physically removed from the stage having played "Little Wing" some thirty times. "Oi! Steady on! That's old wood!" cries Liam as he's held in a Scrotum lock.

Meanwhile, back at Haddon House Hotel...........

Snaresy, having removed the imitation 18th century French Musket from it's anchor above the fireplace in Reception has barricaded himself in his room. Crouched behind the upturned "Corby trouser press", an empty bottle of Smirnoff beside him and his Med's balance off the Richter scale he holds the Musket aloft "No bastard copper's gonna take me alive!!!" he shrieks as a disinterested Albanian maid makes up his room and tidies up his jizz mags.

Ok, I'll take 16oz, but no more!

[Phil47uk]

Great one Cooks...

. These are truly shadows of things yet to come, brought to us by none other than the MLP prophet of sleeze 'Mr Ron Spoons' more commonly known to many on the forum as Cookie boy.

And here is an artists impression made into a short documentary of that day in May 2011.

Poor old Harmony looks totally lost trying to get everyone together and passes Drude at 0:25 who is chanting an evening prayer for his lost tooth. I'm not sure who's in the box, it might be MobProp.
Notice at 1:09 that Cookie has got up from his throne and in the process of trying to impress a young lady with a horny rendition of a Freddie King number and at 1:38 , BrianGT strikes lucky pulling himself a hot date for the evening.

Toward the end of the short film Harmony manages to at last track down some of the other members in the beer garden situated at the rear of Haddon House.




This fitting piece of music was written by none other than our esteemed forum member Drudeboy in one of his more happier song writing moods.


BRIDPORT TOWN CENTER, DORSET, ENGLAND, MAY 20th 2011.

YouTube - *NOSFERATU [1979]: Zinskaro: Vokal Ansambl Gordella

YouTube - *NOSFERATU [1979]: Zinskaro: Vokal Ansambl Gordella

[Happy Grumpz]

@ Cookie-boy

[Phil47uk]

Cookie tries in vain to impress Harmony with a new song he'd just written especially for the 2011 meet.

You Tube

You Tube

[single cut 54]

Originally Posted by Phil47uk

Cookie tries in vain to impress Harmony with a new song he's just written especially for the 2011 meet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUl9_5kK9ts

Phil, where did you dig that up from. I just found this clip of ''The Judge'' on youtube. It's probably been posted before but I've not seen it myself. I think he's better than everybody thinks.

YouTube - John Vasco - The Need in me

YouTube - John Vasco - The Need in me

[Phil47uk]

Originally Posted by single cut 54

Phil, where did you dig that up from. I just found this clip of ''The Judge'' on youtube. It's probably been posted before but I've not seen it myself. I think he's better than everybody thinks.

YouTube - John Vasco - The Need in me

I come across these weird songs. Probably because I am weird. I have edited it and added the full version

Poor old Vasco would like people to think that's him.

Do you know how you can tell it's not him though single cut?
Instead of the title of the song reading 'Need In Me', it would have read 'Me In Need'.

Wow! I'm on form tonight..

[Gyroman]

Ah, the memories of the silhouetted dancing lady in the intro to Tales of the Unexpected almost had me slipping off for a quick Jodrell, but the dog was watching and it put me off. Just as well really, as I'd have missed out on a cracking read. Cheers Cookie!

[Happy Grumpz]

Originally Posted by Gyroman

almost had me slipping off for a quick Jodrell, but the dog was watching and it put me off.

[goatbreath]

A quick Jodrell has just entered my vocabulary..

[FrankieOliver]

Or brown.

[DrewG]

Excellent - a fun end to a crap day for me I feel like I know you all better now !

[Harmony]

Omg, this thread is hilarious

Do I really shower that much Cookie?

Phil, don't know about the song to impress, but he may have something else that does (in video that is)

[Cookie-boy]

I was hid under your bed for three of 'em!

[kernelofwisdom]

Alright Cookie - to further encourage colonial attendance (reverse temporary immigration), I've put fingertip to keyboard and created a small travel guide based on learnings from the finest tutor still teaching - Professor Experience.

Travel tips for Americans planning to attend the MLP ’11 Bridport Meet

Getting there

You can go by boat or plane. Obviously one method is full of hours and hours of tedious boredom that costs time most people don’t have to spend. Yet, people still fly...

Before you go to England, you should know it is, in many ways, a police state. They have cameras everywhere, and unarmed policemen frequently about. God, no wonder we revolted!! You’ll just have to tame your rugged individualism (Live Free or Die!; Don’t Tread on Me!) behind for your stay. Think about those poor controlled saps, as you drive to the airport through radar and visually controlled speed zones, with your license plate visible and your government issued identification and proof of ownership and insurance papers all at the ready.

I was reflecting on just how exceptional we are as a hearty, independent breed last trip, until the pilot bumped into me on his way to be scanned and searched for tweezers before he was handed the controls to a 300,000 pound flying gas tank full of civilians. And for the next trip, as I take my shoes, jacket, belt, wallet, change, and anything else off my body before being wanded, swiped, sniffed, imaged and groped, I’ll still be getting mentally prepared for the authoritarian nanny state I’ll be traveling to.

Getting about

They do have cars, but with a couple of key differences. First, while here we frequently see old women, soccer moms, drunk dads, texting teens, and Mexicans driving on the wrong side of the road (a danger), in England they all drive on the wrong side of the road all the time, proving the clever British way of getting around the danger of head-on collisions. Second, they put the steering wheel and other controls in the passenger seat. I suppose the driver’s seat is just a look-out for them, or a place of command to the nearby helmsman, probably a vestige of past naval glory.

Eating

An interesting oddity about the British is that they typically leave their cars to eat! I don’t understand it either, but it seems to be encouraged with a general lack of drive through establishments. I’m thinking what with having to drive on the wrong side of the road, from the wrong side of the car, coupled with an alarmingly limited number of cupholders, they just can’t add eating to the mix. Also, they do not have Mountain Dew or Doctor Pepper so be warned.

Currency

There’s no reason in any of this. A basic unit is a pound. Of course it doesn’t weigh a pound and you can’t get a pound of anything for it, but that’s the name. A pound is worth about $2,758 dollars, and it takes about two pounds to get a coke. You can get your head around that. But where you take a left into looneyville is that any Englishman can call any amount of money anything he wants, and somehow other Englishmen know what the hell he’s talking about., provided it is three syllables or less. Some examples you might hear are bob, quid, fiver, two-bit, joey, pence, looky-look, Lorne Greene, sterling, Hasselhof, etc.

Language and Accents

A typical Englishman will have some sort of accent, the type depending on where he’s from, that is quite pronounced when he is drinking. What it is like when he is not drinking no one knows as they don’t talk in their sleep. They will talk in your sleep, however. If you doze off during an English sermon, sorry story, even if you are the sole audience they will carry on with as much animation and delight in the telling as if playing to a full house at Stratford-Upon-Avon. They throw an occasional curveball in the word department too, but the only ones critical to an American are that fries are called chips and chips are called crisps, but beer is still beer.

Culture

England is the home of Stonehenge, which is of course the world’s largest henge (probably). England also has a proud tradition of soccer related violence. If you call soccer soccer instead of football, you might be killed by a chain-welding pipefitter. If you accidentally say the name of a disfavored team around a fan of another team, you might be killed by a pipe-welding chainfitter. That wouldn’t be such a problem, except the teams have names using words Americans have trouble avoiding. Examples include Arsenal, Darlington, the London Six-Packs, Birmingham Value Meal Combos, etc.

People

At least for the MLP meet, and the shop-owners who hosted us, you couldn’t possibly find a better bunch. Ready with a beer you hadn’t ordered yet but wanted, a kind word you may not have fully earned but yet fully appreciated, and story after story that make you wonder how television stays in business (to be fair, they only have BBC there so it’s no wonder they are conversation-sharp), they are all around top people. It’s an effort to host this thing, and it’s an effort to go. But most anything worth a damn is an effort. Getting to meet the people who made last year’s event was definitely worth the effort.

[Stowburst]

Well Said Kernel! it sure was fun chatting USA with you and Frank.. you guys are cool!
Hope to see you nxt year, yes?

[Cookie-boy]

Glorious sermon, Kernel!

[Phil47uk]

Originally Posted by kernelofwisdom

Alright Cookie - to further encourage colonial attendance (reverse temporary immigration), I've put fingertip to keyboard and created a small travel guide based on learnings from the finest tutor still teaching - Professor Experience.

Travel tips for Americans planning to attend the MLP ’11 Bridport Meet

Getting there

You can go by boat or plane. Obviously one method is full of hours and hours of tedious boredom that costs time most people don’t have to spend. Yet, people still fly...

Before you go to England, you should know it is, in many ways, a police state. They have cameras everywhere, and unarmed policemen frequently about. God, no wonder we revolted!! You’ll just have to tame your rugged individualism (Live Free or Die!; Don’t Tread on Me!) behind for your stay. Think about those poor controlled saps, as you drive to the airport through radar and visually controlled speed zones, with your license plate visible and your government issued identification and proof of ownership and insurance papers all at the ready.

I was reflecting on just how exceptional we are as a hearty, independent breed last trip, until the pilot bumped into me on his way to be scanned and searched for tweezers before he was handed the controls to a 300,000 pound flying gas tank full of civilians. And for the next trip, as I take my shoes, jacket, belt, wallet, change, and anything else off my body before being wanded, swiped, sniffed, imaged and groped, I’ll still be getting mentally prepared for the authoritarian nanny state I’ll be traveling to.

Getting about

They do have cars, but with a couple of key differences. First, while here we frequently see old women, soccer moms, drunk dads, texting teens, and Mexicans driving on the wrong side of the road (a danger), in England they all drive on the wrong side of the road all the time, proving the clever British way of getting around the danger of head-on collisions. Second, they put the steering wheel and other controls in the passenger seat. I suppose the driver’s seat is just a look-out for them, or a place of command to the nearby helmsman, probably a vestige of past naval glory.

Eating

An interesting oddity about the British is that they typically leave their cars to eat! I don’t understand it either, but it seems to be encouraged with a general lack of drive through establishments. I’m thinking what with having to drive on the wrong side of the road, from the wrong side of the car, coupled with an alarmingly limited number of cupholders, they just can’t add eating to the mix. Also, they do not have Mountain Dew or Doctor Pepper so be warned.

Currency

There’s no reason in any of this. A basic unit is a pound. Of course it doesn’t weigh a pound and you can’t get a pound of anything for it, but that’s the name. A pound is worth about $2,758 dollars, and it takes about two pounds to get a coke. You can get your head around that. But where you take a left into looneyville is that any Englishman can call any amount of money anything he wants, and somehow other Englishmen know what the hell he’s talking about., provided it is three syllables or less. Some examples you might hear are bob, quid, fiver, two-bit, joey, pence, looky-look, Lorne Greene, sterling, Hasselhof, etc.

Language and Accents

A typical Englishman will have some sort of accent, the type depending on where he’s from, that is quite pronounced when he is drinking. What it is like when he is not drinking no one knows as they don’t talk in their sleep. They will talk in your sleep, however. If you doze off during an English sermon, sorry story, even if you are the sole audience they will carry on with as much animation and delight in the telling as if playing to a full house at Stratford-Upon-Avon. They throw an occasional curveball in the word department too, but the only ones critical to an American are that fries are called chips and chips are called crisps, but beer is still beer.

Culture

England is the home of Stonehenge, which is of course the world’s largest henge (probably). England also has a proud tradition of soccer related violence. If you call soccer soccer instead of football, you might be killed by a chain-welding pipefitter. If you accidentally say the name of a disfavored team around a fan of another team, you might be killed by a pipe-welding chainfitter. That wouldn’t be such a problem, except the teams have names using words Americans have trouble avoiding. Examples include Arsenal, Darlington, the London Six-Packs, Birmingham Value Meal Combos, etc.

People

At least for the MLP meet, and the shop-owners who hosted us, you couldn’t possibly find a better bunch. Ready with a beer you hadn’t ordered yet but wanted, a kind word you may not have fully earned but yet fully appreciated, and story after story that make you wonder how television stays in business (to be fair, they only have BBC there so it’s no wonder they are conversation-sharp), they are all around top people. It’s an effort to host this thing, and it’s an effort to go. But most anything worth a damn is an effort. Getting to meet the people who made last year’s event was definitely worth the effort.

.......

Great one Kernel, although you missed out a vital piece of information for the American traveler.. Knowing exactly where Great Britain is on the world map before they book their tickets..

[Dogsy]

Originally Posted by kernelofwisdom

Alright Cookie - to further encourage colonial attendance (reverse temporary immigration), I've put fingertip to keyboard and created a small travel guide based on learnings from the finest tutor still teaching - Professor Experience.

[mobprop667]

i for one, keeping with irish tradition will get piss drunk and alienate everyone within earshot.

[kernelofwisdom]

Originally Posted by Phil47uk

.......

Great one Kernel, although you missed out a vital piece of information for the American traveler.. Knowing exactly where Great Britain is on the world map before they book their tickets..

Wait - there's a world map??!

[Cookie-boy]

Originally Posted by mobprop667

i for one, keeping with irish tradition will get piss drunk and alienate everyone within earshot.

'Tis your birthright to do so!

[Phil47uk]

Originally Posted by kernelofwisdom

Wait - there's a world map??!

......
You mean you haven't got the latest Rand Mcnally update?

[John Vasco]

Don't confuse them, Phil. Most of them think they have to go through passport control just to move from one state to another!

[Phil47uk]

Originally Posted by John Vasco

Don't confuse them, Phil. Most of them think they have to go through passport control just to move from one state to another!

Luckily our dear Kernel is one of the few who knows what lies beyond the land of dargons.

[Phil47uk]

Originally Posted by mobprop667

i for one, keeping with irish tradition will get piss drunk and alienate everyone within earshot.

You don't have to get inebriated to achieve that status .. Simply join in on a duet with Vasco.

[davebag89]

I'll just get plastered and possibly threaten people with my gold flying v

[kernelofwisdom]

Originally Posted by Stowburst

Well Said Kernel! it sure was fun chatting USA with you and Frank.. you guys are cool!
Hope to see you nxt year, yes?

It's in the plan!

[kernelofwisdom]

Originally Posted by Phil47uk

Luckily our dear Kernel is one of the few who knows what lies beyond the land of dargons.

I just get in the metal tube and when I get off people talk funny. That's all I know!