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Tuesday 7 October 2014

Blondes thicker than blood

 There's a poll going for the best Outdoor Blogger of The Year. They say (I never say it, it's a cliché) that blood's thicker than water, so I shoulda voted for my brother, Sir Hugh. I mean what more does he have to do? Twice round the Equator (or its equivalemt), up and down the Munros (a sort of Scottish biscuit), down and through the French gorges (Gorge, in French, is throat so that sounds a bit filthy. Actually it's breast and that's even filthier).

Latterly Sir Hugh's read the Ballad of Chevy Chace, especially this verse:

For Witherington needs must I wayle,
  As one in doleful dumpes;
For when his legs were smitten off,
  He fought upon his stumpes.


With the result that he's going to do everything he did before but while bleeding to death!

What a hero. I shoulda voted for him

Instead I voted for Two Blondes Walking. But there are limits, family ties prevent me from doing a puff for them.  Click on B2 in my links and do your own puff. Then vote early and often.

6 comments:

  1. Robbie, are you implying that Blondes are thick? That would be a terrible cliche and not worthy of your considerable writing skill.

    Thank you.

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  2. I have only done what I have for my own selfish fulfilment.

    The Two Blondes have improved the lot of many and given unselfishly and deserve their nomination, and they write much better than me.

    Technology (which I have embraced fairly successfully in my old age) had improved even by Haskett Smith's day - he continued to climb serious alpine routes with a prosthetic leg, so maybe no need to fight upon the stumps if it comes to that.

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  3. Correction - It was Geoffrey Wynthrop Young not Haskett Smith

    ReplyDelete
  4. Blonde Two: There is such a thing
    as creative ambiguity.

    Sir Hugh: Too damn po-faced given I wasn't able to vote for you anyway. There is such a thing as creative exaggeration.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Are creative ambiguity and procreative ambiguity the same thing?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Blonde Two: Pas du tout. Anyone believing I would be so crass as to traduce the glorious Dartmoor legend of the Blondes, has only to pass from the headline to the text of the post, to discover my knock-kneed wonder at their distant existence. Anyone worrying about that other form of ambiguity has only to wake up in the morning and realise that the lack of a little stranger beside them in the bed is proof that their worries were for nought.

    By the way if, during your ten-league-boot striding round Dartmoor yesterday you came upon a small group of people d'un certain age, trying to render your scenery in line and in colour, that could very well have been the art group VR belongs to. Alas, VR herself was otherwise employed in her least favourite activity - a visit to the dentist.

    ReplyDelete