Inside Bryson: Tom's Story

Thomas was born on his birthday sometime during the 70’s. As a small child he would embrace the spirit of the era by growing his sideburns, flairing his trousers and investing in a middle of the range Soda Stream.

By the 1980’s he was old enough to start school. He named it Thomas Hoadley Grammar and installed himself as an acting deputy headmaster. Unfortunately his father soon needed the shed back, and so he closed his school and went to the local comprehensive with other children from the area. It was to be here that young Thomas would discover his lifelong passion for semolina pudding.

He was a bright pupil and would come to sit his GCSE exams two whole years early. Thankfully for him somebody pointed out the error and he was able to return to his usual lessons before the teacher marked him absent.

It was during this period he was to become a gifted Guitarist. He could not play the guitar but had received it as a gift. He later gave it away as another gift before receiving it back from somebody who has subsequently dropped off his Christmas card list.

Thomas left School nightly at 3:30, and finally for good when he turned 16. He applied to both Oxford and Cambridge Universities with a desire to study Advanced Petrochemicals - a hobby of his since he had been the sole witness to a sporadic fire at his school, which, as Thomas explained, must have been started by a trio of wondering fire-eaters.

Unfortunately due to a postal strike his application forms never arrived, and so Thomas set out into the brave wide world to look for adventure and employment with dental privileges.

He looked first at a career in the armed forces, but an allergy to brass band music mixed with a nervous twich in his trigger finger saw him quickly discharged after what the papers called the Passing out parade Incident.

Going into hiding to escape the attentions of the tabloid press, and the lawsuits of the bereaved, Thomas found his true calling, tending to the gardens of the rich & famous.

Gradually as one by one the famous caught him going through their dustbins and stealing clothes off the washing line, his client based switched to the “Wealthy & Well Knowns”, and finally the “Average Income Who are They’s”

Just as he thought things could get no worse, they did. Then they got a little better, before being great for a while and eventually levelling out at content, with the odd dip here and there and a few sharp spikes in his Gazebo.

Thomas is currently looking to expand his successful gardening business and move into fields, hedgerows, woodland and forestry.

Outside of work he is also involved with managing the popular Country & Western Quartet from Birmingham, TJ Bimmy & the OK Choral. Who have had some moderate success with the Singles “Hodown in my Heart”, “The Outlaw Man from Dagenham” and the Valentines day Classic “Sally (The Girl from Cherwell Valley)”.

The future is looking bright for Thomas as he moves towards yet another birthday. One which I am sure he will celebrate in style, possibly by using the old soda stream to make slightly cheaper carbonated beverages.

The Chilties: Shortlist Revealed

With the Chiltie awards around the corner, it is time for the final Nominees for the Bryson – Moment of the Year to be revealed:

1: SVEN GORAN ERIKSSON BREAKS MACCAS WHEELCHAIR

Yes, way back in the summer saw us gather once more in Le Sarthe for the worlds greatest race, the 24 Heures du Mans. It had clashed this year both with the Soccerball Cup and Maccas enthusiastic attempt to raise his motor insurance premiums.

Plastered up to heal his car crash crushed bones, Maccas Le Mans was always going to be interesting - not least on the logistical note of getting a wheelchair & everyones camping year in the back of a Mini.

Dispite the miracle of getting his chair across France in one piece, an inaine trek across the circuit in search of an England soccerball game saw the wheels fall off Maccas plans for a crutch-free weekend, and quite literally fall off his chair.


2: JAMES’ BIRTHDAY

When it comes to Young Jim you can almost be guaranteed hilarity. After several years of finding himself drunk and stranded, miles away from home, he decided this year to get drunk and stranded within staggering distance.

After Falling over in the Garden, Falling out of a Window, and Falling over the billiards table, his head may have been convinced that he was riding the Oblivion at Alton Towers. It was then with predictable results that projectile vomiting would follow and with a distance many amateur shot-putters would be proud of.


3. ALAN AND THE CASE OF THE ULTIMATELY DISSAPOINTING FIREWORK

“Stand Back Lads, This is Going to be a Big one”

Al had arrived at Toms Fireworks & First Aid Extravaganza with a rocket so large it could be designated WMD. But like the hype leading up to the Invasion of Iraq, the reality was really rather less impressive.

As the already slightly nervous crowd (See “The Spirit of Guido Fawkes”) took several steps backwards, the missile soared towards the stratosphere before exploding with all the ferocity of a Hamsters fart.

I wonder how Comical Ali would have spun that one?


4. JAMES FALLS OFF SUNSHINE MOUNTAIN

Nomination number two for young Jim, who once again demonstrated his complete lack of self-preservation when drunk by attempting to walk under every van/bus/car/bicycle on the streets of Twickenham

It was for his failed attempt to complete the challenging task of remaining on a train seat without falling off that many will remember as the highlight of the day.


5. LAGER THIEF LEAVES NIGE THIRSTY/HICCUPPY

It was going to be one of those nights, we had been seated in the Curry House for an hour before anyone even took our order. Eventually some lagers had arrived along with some starters (not necessarily the ones we had ordered but…)

Anyway with ¼ of a pint remaining and understanding that the staff were working on a different time-zone I had thought ahead and ordered a few more beers. The confused waiter looked at me for a moment, before picking up my pint and walking off.

The food eventually arrived but there was still no sign of the fresh pints we had ordered, or the remnants of my newly liberated first pint. It took just a few mouthfuls before I realised that this was going to be a particucularly strong Madras. As my face rolled through an entire spectrum of hues, the hiccups arrived!

I had then decided that being a hicuppy, sweaty, purple mess was more than reason enough to steal another mans pint.

You’ll be happy to know that I suvived the ordeal, but with long lasting damage to my ego.

Some drinks eventually did turn up, 35 minutes later, if anybody knows what became of my original pint please let me know. I still maintain a lone vigil to it’s memory!


So there you go. Who will win the Incredibly Small Trophy?

The Chiltie Awards will be announced on the 4th December 2006, so you have until then

Happy Voting.

When we were Kings

(Nige) There has always been a certain tradition around trips up to Twickenham to watch England Rugby Internationals.

Firstly, no matter what time we leave, we always seem to somehow arrive slightly too late and have to run for the train.

Secondly, several hipflasks filled with a vast variety of spirited substances have usually been consumed by the time we have to change trains at Clapham Junction.

Lastly, no trip to HQ is complete without the post match supper from Kings Fish’n’Chips.

So it was to our shock on Saturday that we discovered that Kings was no more, it had ceased to be. Bereft of frying it rests in piece!

Like the old South Stand at Twickenham it exists only now in memories and drunken photographs. Both were spectators to the era when England held the World Cup aloft in Triumph, and Fortress Twickenham was impregnable to all invaders.

Perhaps then it is only right that neither was around to see an England team jeered from the field of play by a Home crowd on the day England slumped to a 7-game loosing streak – a 40 year low!

Unfortunately nothing can stay the same forever, and with the World Cup looming on the horizon, it seems certain that the Webb Ellis trophy will not be coming home.

That golden age has passed - leaving us all slightly colder, slightly soberer, and pining for a warm, battered meal with extra vinegar.

I Like Trucking and I Like to Truck

(JB) This weekend saw the Bryson boys dust down their firework and cow-pat encrusted bodies and head to Brands Hatch for their season finale meeting. Top of the bill? Team Desperado and their cracking little VW Golf driven by motor racing legend and all round nice bloke, Russ Bradley.

Supporting him were the British Truck Racing Association boys. That's right. Trucks. Big, smoky, diesel trucks. And they don't half hang about either!

So in a shameless publicity stunt, go to www.snappyracers.com and then go to Gallery. You can't miss the trucks!

The Spirit of Guido Fawkes

(Nige) It was a few days after Halloween, yet I had found myself in a scenario familiar to anyone who has seen a horror film. I was stumbling about in the dark feeling my way gently towards the light. I wore the mists like a cloak, all around me nothing by white swirling cloud. With my fingertip in contact with the cold brick wall I edged slowly along the passage, knowing that if I edged but a step too far I would find myself knee deep in a pond with Koi nibbling at my ankles.

Several loud bangs assured me that I was headed in the right direction. Suddenly out of the swirling mists a shadowy figure looms into view, behind him a ghostly orangy glow. The figures face is filled with terror, as my feet stick to the ground in fear it lets out a terrified scream.

LEGGIT!!

All went quiet, what had I seen? Was it living or dead? What had caused the look of terror etched on that poor Souls face?

I doubted the figure to be Paranormal, as my personal view is that death is exactly like life, just with longer queues at the Post Office

I finally reached the end of the path to see several more shadowy figures lurking in the ever-thickening gloom.

The bangs erupted once more, as the ghostly silhouettes turned and began to move towards me. I hesitated, as I realised that there was nowhere left to run. Suddenly at one the shadows shouted out in one voice – “Happy Birthday!”

For this year Tom’s Guy Fawkes: Fireworks & First Aid Extravaganza had fallen upon my birthday. And as we stood upon his patio in a sustainable level of terror, thankfully most of the fireworks took off in a semi vertical direction.

Just the one had come towards the crowd, shortly before my arrival causing the thick smoke and the paniced figures I had seen,. Thankfully we are all still alive, we all had a lot to drink and only one person slipped on a cow-pat.

Now that’s a party!