Newsletter 2002 – e-mail version– I hope this one works!!!
Welcome to the 2001 newsletter. Oh god, is
that the time? Welcome to the 2002 newsletter. Ok I haven’t really lost a year.
Last years epistle failed to appear for a very good reason – I’m a lazy
McBastard. The funny thing is it was the most popular edition yet. Every year I
try to involve the clan by asking for comments or including questionnaires and
every year your silence verges on the deafening. How heartening then to hear the
word ‘newsletter’ on everybody’s lips at Crop. 2001. It starred in such diverse
sentences as. “ I didn’t get my.” “What happened to the?” And my
personal favourite, “So you’ve worked out that there is only so much crap
you can put in a.” Which just goes
to prove that among other things less is more, humour is the new black, you
don’t need to take an idiot with you, and just because everyone has at least
one book in them it doesn’t mean it should be allowed out.
Gossip from Glen Bastard…..
As I write Captain Black is recovering
from corrective heart surgery. Exactly what a corrective heart is or why it
would need surgery is beyond me but the procedure went well and normal service
should be resumed soon. Trumpet Arse
says she can’t wait for him to get the all clear to resume diving!!!!!!
Cropredy 2002.
You should know this paragraph off
by heart by now but here goes anyway.
Cropredy 2002 takes place on 8th,
9th,10th, August. Details on the Fairport web site—www.fairportconvention.com.
We will be at Barnstones from Sat. 3rd, August. Please let us know
(I do try) if you intend to join us there as space becomes scarcer every year.
Bouncy Council AGM.
The AGM (Anti-Gravity meeting) of the Bouncy Council will take place on
Wednesday 7 August, at Barnstones Campsite at teatime (ish). The agenda will
include: My newts of the last crop, T-Shirt issue, new (dis)
appointments to the Bouncy Council and any coat marsh-mallowing necessary.
There is a three line whip on this and Scoffer is particularly pleased about
this because it has been a few years…..and finally any other incontinent
business.
A McB Prayer:
OUR BEER,
Which art inBarrels,
Hallowed be thy drink,
Thy will be drunk,
At home as it is in the pub,
Forgive us our daily spillage,
And those who spillage against us,
Lead us not into wine tasting, And
deliver us from alco-pops,
For ours is the bitter,
The spirits and Lager,
Forever and ever,
Barmen.
The McBardstard at 50.
The average maturity level of the clan went up another notch recently
when Henk came of age. We are now officially older than some buildings but
younger than some mountains. To celebrate there was a clan gathering in Glen
Bastard. The McBardstard, as he must now be addressed, was tricked into
attending by Basil (of whom more later). Others turned up willingly. After
partaking much alcohol for its bravery content 15 of us infiltrated a senior
citizens bus trip to Oban. Disappointingly nobody noticed. The hotel was great
– if you’re a joke writer short of material. Our room had running water, down
the inside of the window. To compensate the shower worked only intermittently.
The restaurant staff were awesome in their efficiency. I have never before seen
plates of meat and gravy frisbeed into place from the kitchen door. However the
effort must have tired them as some people were able to finish their food
before having their plates whisked away. Suz had to ask for extra salad as the
slug seemed to have eaten most of hers. Later three of us were insulted by the
general manager. A spectacular hat trick for which we weren’t even charged
extra. Don’t think it was all fun though, there was still the difficult task of
helping Henk to misbehave. I should explain that he had earlier been charged
with reaching 50 without having been in any way an embarrassment to the clan.
Oban was his last chance. Suffice to say he’s all McBastard now and we’re very
proud of him.
Noah Don’t Want To Be A McBastard!
Humphrey and Fatankles are proud to
announce the birth of a son, Noah. Fatankles must be a good mother as Noah was
happy to stay where he was. Eventually, following a caesarean section, he was
forced to begin his life as the first McBastard born in captivity. Mother and
son are both well. As is customary at these times nobody has mentioned the
fathers’ health. That’s because he can take it easy. Except for decorating the
nursery, shopping for baby grows and strange items of female toiletries he
didn’t even know existed until today and, fielding questions from elderly
relatives who have to be assured that ‘ yes he does have the family nose /eyes/
ears (delete as appropriate)’. Piece of cake really so why were you forty three
seconds late for second visiting today?
Basiiil – she for Barcelona.
Believe it or
not it is Basiiiil’s 21st (!) birthday this December coming. Working
on the principle that like every other McB she can’t see shite go bye her she
has decided that we should celebrate her birthday by invading Barcelona to
outdo the Bard’s bash in Oban. It has therefore been decreed that an
extraordinary meeting of the Bouncy Council will be held in that fair city next
spring. Anyone wishing to be included should let us know. If you are not sure
that this is for you just ask the Clan members who previously invaded Holland,
Oban or Sutherland and see if any of them can talk yet!
Dates and travel arrangements still to be finalised.
Watch this space.
Words Of Wisdom
·
No-one
ever says “it’s only a game” when their team is winning!!
·
Why
is the man who invests all your money
called a Broker?
·
Why
isn’t 11 pronounced onety one?
You will all have seen this flag flying wherever the McBastards are in
residence, some of you however may not realise it’s significance. In the real world it is known as the Saltire
– the official flag of Scotland. True to form we have stolen it ands adapted it
for our own uses. It was pointed out to
me recently that some of you don’t know what is written on the flag so I
thought I’d let you know. Top left on the flag is a record of the Cropredy
festivals attended by the Clan (Cropredy 1989 to 2001 so far!), Bottom left and
right are the words “CLAN MCB CAMPAIGNS” and top right lists the home (we hope)
of every Clan member and places we
have visited as a Clan. (Clinton NY, Bolton, Barking, Brentwood, Utrecht, San
Francisco, Glen Gardner NJ, St Austell, Lostwithiel, East Kilbride, Dundee,
Carmyle, Airdrie, Cambuslang, Cumbernauld, Watford, Washford, Inverness,
Aberdeen, Arbroath, Galston, Assen, London, Newbiggin by the sea, Burnham on
Sea, Hastings, Skerton, Melness, Cropredy, Gt Bourton, Oban, Amsterdam, Glen
Bastard, Washington NJ, Cambridge Mass. If your hometown is missing please let
us know so we can add it.
Tribute to Betty.
Not all the news
is good this year. One special person won’t be at the festival and will be
greatly missed. Following a short illness Betty Arthur passed away on 15th
March. Big Dave was reluctant to come this year, as he has never been to
Cropredy without Betty. Dave, if you read this, neither has any of the
McBastards. Betty was one of the first people I met at Crop. And one of the
reasons I knew that I would come back. She typified the humour and comradeship
that sets this one weekend apart from all others.
…..I’m glad to report that big Dave now has his
ticket and will be in his rightful place in front of the sound tower. I hope
that as many of you as possible can join him there. Betty wouldn’t have wanted
it any other way.
Homework.
This
year if it rains (and it most certainly will) we have come up with a new game
to play instead of song-writing.
You
will be provided with a punch-line and will have to
provide
the story leading up to it. To give you an opportunity to practice Scoffer has
set the first punch-line –
“ …then I squeezed so hard that my
sausages were blown clean off the plate.”
Believe it or not there is a perfectly credible, and
true, story to go with this punchline but that would be really boring and I’m
sure you could come up with something better. Good luck.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MCBASTARDISM a misquote from ‘Billy’ by Pamela Stephenson.
Tread gently on anyone who looks
at you sideways. Have lots of long lie-ins. Wear sturdy socks, learn to grow
out of medium underwear and, if you must lie about your age, do it in the other
direction: tell people you’re 97 and they’ll think you look fucking great.
Never eat food that comes in a bucket. If you don’t know how to meditate at
least try to spend some time every day just sitting. Boo joggers. Don’t work
out, work in. Play a musical instrument. Sleep with somebody you like – but not
in your own tent. Try to live in a
place you like. Try to do a job you like. Never turn down an opportunity to
shout ‘fuck them all’ at the top of your voice. Avoid bigots of all
description. Don’t wear tight underwear on aeroplanes. Before you judge a man,
walk a mile in his shoes. After that, who cares? … He’s a mile away and you’ve
got his shoes. Clean your teeth and keep the company of people who will tell
you when there’s spinach on them. Pretend to hate The Enemy—it makes them feel
useful. Avoid people who say they know the answer. Keep the company of people
who are trying to understand the question. Don’t pat animals with sneaky eyes.
If you haven’t heard a good rumour by 11 am, start one. Learn to feel sorry for
music because, although it is the international language, it has no swearwords.
If you write a book (and it’s not compulsory – see page one), be sure it has
exactly seventy six ‘fuck’s in it. Send Hieronymus Bosch prints to elderly
relatives at Christmas. Try to forget that Hieronymus Bosch was Dutch, it’ll
just feed your paranoia – unless you’re Dutch. Avoid giving LSD to guide dogs.
Don’t be talked into wearing a uniform. Salute nobody. Never run with scissors
or other pointy objects. Campaign against museli. Above all, go to Cropredy at
least once a year. Listen to the music and have a beer. When you feel the
atmosphere lift all the weight from your shoulders, you’ll know what I mean
when I say:
It’s good to be alive.
Contact
Clan HQ
9 Westray
Road,
Ravenswood,
Cumbernauld.
G67 1NN
Phone:
01236 726259
Fax:
01236 726259
Email: smmacleod@hotmail.com