Scene; A darkened room, lit by a single mercilessly unforgiving lamp.
A Sweating tired caver sits sobbing in the beam, crust forming around his eyes, and sticky yucky white stuff on his lips.
Somewhere beyond the glare, a voice breaks through the pathetic moaning noise the pitiful caver emits.
“ Tell me the truth Bastard, what happened you Damned !%$&^£!!? @”£@$””?!!”
“Okay, Okay, okay” dribbled the gammy one.
“ About time, you're beginning to look like a half digested scampi fry (out of date.. but only just), now spill your guts you pig genome tragedy!”
“Wellll it all began promising enough back on the 2nd Feb 2001……….
everything fades, wobbles, morphs, melts etc. etc. etc.
There we were all packed, and prepared for a cold ass trip down to Fermanagh, and the wonderful community center at Boho. All was good, people conversed and laughed all full of health and intact. Oh .. if only it could of stayed like that.

Oh, if only,,

Flying down the road in Lazenbey  (the unfortunate Bond), and amongst much booze, the first incident of the weekend occurred.
A 'Flight of the Navigator' impression went horribly wrong when a strategically placed bottle of Bucky was head butted by an over excited Jonny.
Cue much confusion on Jonny's part, as he tried to determine if the claret on his head was indeed monk gank or scarce brain fluid.

So soon enough, after Nurse Fatima stemmed the flow, and we'd proved that indeed! the bladder is the largest organ in the body, we arrived at the popular local spot that is the Boho Community Center... only to find that it had been over run by line dancing freaks on Alcohol! (quite a ridiculous sight)
We unpacked, and headed off down to the Pub.

Ryan and myself arrived a little after the others, as we had to dodge dodgy balaclava-ed folk (Gonzo?) who kept screaming something about horrible death in the dark.   ?

The pub then.. a wonderful local 'hotspot', over run with illegitimate children (only joking Sean), and bastards (same thing?) of a stunted sort.
Apart from that, it was rather nice!.. Emmet, Andy, myself, and friends ( and probably every male in the room that could spell their name, .. um so that's just us lot then) where nearly raped by a couple of ladies with impeccable taste, and black livers.. luckily we escaped in a blur of feet and cloth, pausing only for breath after returning  home, and locking all doors.

Wonderful sights greeted us at the center..
For as we stepped into the hall, a marvelous alcoholic powered plastic child's toy, known as The 'Tequila Tractor' screeched to a halt at our feet, and a delirious cabby (Linda.. at the Yorkies again?) slurred something vaguely to do with the mexican gank in the trailer.
Soon there where balls and bodies flying everywhere, not even an ill advised male striptease could put us off our worm poison!
Delirious screams of drunken demonic pleasure echoed around the hall as everything from Hula Hoops to Tricycles flew through the air arsing over all in their path.
Soon rather than later an impromptu game of 'tag' otherwise known as murder ball was initiated, which basically involved me and Andy Tw*tting each other around, in an attempt to either maim or get the ball, no actually, I think it was just to maim.
Soon I'd had enough of being squarely planted on the floor, not even the 'Tractor could revive me- It was time for bed.
Or so I thought, for as it turns out, the gits had left me with the damned kitchen floor. Ostracized with Andy, Emmet, Gonzo (yes it was hell), and many boxes of Tom and Jerry  (not to mention those damned addictive crisps), the night went with a lot of sprayed liquid, corn snacks, and one wooping Andy, who laughed solidly ( laughed?) for over 10 minutes. I thought he was dying... though taking his time at it.

Morning came.

and went.

Waking up was like removing a soiled baby wipe from my frontal lobe.
So down a cave we went, and on today's trek was... umm hang on;

Steve MUH!

Arriving at the spot, a mere 20 mile trek (exaggerate? me? balderdash!) from Lazenby, we came to the entrance of the ground bubble.
Only to discover that Steve, and JD and everyone but me.. had forgotten the blinkin rope!.. well I didn't have it on me.. But I had mentioned at the offset.. really!
So eventually with rope in hand ( look.. there was a beeping.. OKAY!) we made our way down the cave, and to the apex of this years first SRT trip. YUM!
With a little ( well loads) guidance from lovely Steve, I rigged the pitch, and taking my life in my hands, or knots, leaned out over the edge.
The sights that greeted me where not completely comforting.
1; The knot that Steve had said to look, and I quote "Aye, that's looks, umm, fine" tightens in such a way that I drop 30 cm, only after taking off my cow's tails. I think the yelp was well deserved.
2; Looking up with the eye's of a convicted/ sentenced/ soon to be dead man, I happen to notice that JD's carbide flame is comically licking around the rope. Another yelp well deserved I think you'll agree.

So after I'd suggested that JD stop THAT! and he'd continued.. I went on down anyway. How lovely it was, and soon enough ( no thanks to the roughest rope on/ in this vengaboys infested world- ripped me flesh off Rudyard) I touched down at the bottom, like a spaceman with a hangover.
Except I was a caveman.

I believe Gonzo came next, and we had a quite frankly beautiful duet, with our very own rendition of Planet Funk's sun-thingy-whatever.

So after each of us had surcomed to gravity's lure, we all decided to go back up again. So leading the way like a scene from Commando, I scarpered up the rope, in a blur of jammers and feet. Next came Gonzers, then the shyin' Ryan sucked up the rope, like an italian with spaghetti.
Being the speedy divils we are, and being hard as hell (perverts) we decided to go on and wait in the van, sorry I mean Lazenby, pausing only to acquire knowledge of the whereabouts of the keys.. which I checked with JD three bloomin times.
Back at the van, and having waited over an hour.. without keys, (as JD is deaf) the others still hadn't returned.
Draws where being taken as to who would be eaten first.. but I'm afraid Gonzo and I had already decided upon the considerably meatier Ryan. I was eyeing up that meat engorged ass. mmmmm fryin' Ryan, mmmmmm

Eventually the beasts returned, and firmly attaching myself to the fan heater, we began our quest for the holy dinner, at Boho. (Nb. Ryan's ass; not as meaty as it looks- padded with pants- HUGE absorbent pants. That could be a slanderous lie. Or could it?)

I have never returned from a caving trip to be presented with a 3 course meal before.. but helly, that's what happened. Bloomin Delish!!.. Thanks all concerned with that.. Linda and Lauren ( any others?? .. thanks to you too) YUMMY!!!!

After a shower ( another caving abnormality) we headed off down to the pub again, and took over the place like a bunch of drunken gits. The grisly girls where there again, and so was a healthy selection of D*cks.
An awed Andy got his ass wooped at pool by p.a. hustler. ROT.
and the secret Gambling machine turned out to be naff.

So Back to the bed palace we staggered.

Another war broke out in the hall. Horrific it was. Bodies strewn/ flying everywhere, we thought Ryan was dead. Lauren even joined in with her first ever pile ons.. Oh! it was Beautiful ( and horrific)

But then, like a surprise sneeze (?!!), amidst a barrage of missiles, something a little unfortunate happened.

(  Top SECRET... removed to protect the innocent )

So Like a Duke of Hazard.. except French and female, Fatima slid over the bonnet of Steve's steed ( again.. perverts) and ambulanced the crippled canadian caver to hospital in Enniskillen.

The night suddenly went VERY odd, what with the club going DEEP (?), and me and Andy being chucked out of every room. sob sob.

A couple of hours passed, and the troop returned with the endangered species that is the canadian .. in a PLASTER!!!
Only after she'd sprayed the insides of Steve's car with quality Tequila bile.

Some people made themselves promptly scarce, and ended up sleeping on a rather damned uncomfortable stage. THE HUMANITY!
The stage turned out to be a rather poor destination what with the stereo not only being there.. but being near ANDY!! my poor brain.
Cue some classic Starship Galactica covering by Five;
'If you feel the force, stick your hands up in the air,
Put 'em up!
Get 'em up!
Put your hands up!'

Other marks on the stage's illustrious career, would be the booze coating pooled on it's surface, and it's night job as a thoro-fare, for people with large feet, that squarely plant themselves on my bonce.

Gonzo gets bored, dons a balaclava, and samurai-scurries out to the toilet, poorly avoiding detection by an always alert Linda.

Waking up was like entering into a funeral- and watching SM(freakin)TV. Attempts where made to tidy the place, as Steve and JD went off to de-rig the cave.

As usual Sunday was kind of a blur of mops, and brushes, and Andy charging the back doors of the van. All the normal stuff. Lauren took her first steps on her crutches, nearly collapsing much to every ones amusement. " HAH HAH!, "- we japed- " look at Mrs. can't walk",.. Little did we know the true thrashing power the innocent looking candid one could unleash with the aid of a big aluminium stick. ( sorry L., only joking)

'On the road again, lah lah lah lah, lah lah, lah, lah lah'

Leaving the smashed one home was a little unnerving, who's to tell the wrath of a canadian relation? We sped off as quickly as possible.

Unpacked the bus,

and went home to bed.

Actually that's a lie, Karma Sutra was on.



We all love Lauren, and will attempt to aid her recovery by feeding her loadsa milk and stuff. Please show your support for this cause by donating your dairy products. thanks.