Sunday, June 29, 2003


Today I shall be mostly attending the Dorset Festival of the Fish.

Undoubtedly, I shall be regaling you with fine fish-and-penguin related japery later.

That is all.


And, oh, what fun we had. Fish, fish, and everywhere fish. There was many stands, stall and demonstrations all of a fishy nature, celebrating what can only be described as the art of fish. Fish fashion once again emphasises the scales and the dorsal fin, and pierced gills are no longer de rigeur for the hip fish on the street. We were rather disappointed that the whole tone was the event was cheapened by the organisers allowing mullet to be present. And the whole place smelled like a penguin's bathroom.

Unfortunately, I am unable to bring you reports of penguins holding the whole festival at gunpoint until every last fin and scale was in their possession. Instead, we witnessed the Twunt family from Dudley, each and every one of them dressed head-to-toe in matching combat gear. Dad, mum, three kids, granny, aunty Vera and Rambo the dog, all looking like they'd just crawled out of a hedge. Either this was some kind of mung fashion statement, or they know something that we don't. Is it time to start panic buying for duct tape again?

And cockles. Don't they look like ladies' rude bits?

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