There’s no such thing as a friendly in this game, Clive.

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November 20, 2009 by ronfluff

*****Please note -this is not an exclusively sausage-based blog. No sir-ee. It just so happens it’s started that way. Vegetables will be present at a later stage. maybe even bread and cakes. Hmm, cakes……….*****

So all of the teams have now qualified for next year’s FIFA World Cup and will go into the hat for the draw next week.

Don’t worry, this hasn’t suddenly become a sports report, it’s just that this story reminded me of a conversation I overheard on the train down from the North-West last week. It was between two blokes – let’s call them Jonny (he looked like a Jonny, spelled like that too) and Dom (ditto).

It went (artistic license permitting) something along these lines:

Jonny: So what time shall we start it then?

Dom: I dunno. Around eight? It’s at yours right? On Tuesday?

Jonny: Yeah. Well, I guess it depends on when I can get the sausages.

Dom: Well, I’m bringing the Italian. I reckon I stand a fair chance.

Jonny: I’m representing home, although I might use some black pudding. That’s allowed right?

Dom: Will that be English or Scottish then?

Jonny: I think I’ll just be Britain, although I might take Wales out of the equation, cos Dave’s coming and he’ll undoubtedly bring something Welsh.

Dom: Do the Welsh do good sausages? I don’t fancy that.

Jonny: Well, if Dave comes he’ll bring those two girls, the Dutch one and the French one, so it’ll be well worth it. Miguel’s coming too, no doubt with some sort of chorizo. I’m not sure what Kingy’s bringing, being a Yank, or Su-Li for that matter. It’s shaping up to be a right little event, though.

Dom: Yeah man. Nice one. The Sausage World Championships. Brilliant. Can’t wait.

(Jonny’s phone rings. Much to the annoyance of most of the carriage)

Jonny (on the phone): Hey man. Yeah. Eight at mine on Tuesday….The Sausage World Champs…Yeah. Well, erm, ok. If you must. They’d better be good looking though. Right. Don’t give them tooooo much notice on the sausage-buying front though…or it’ll be all over before it’s started. Yeah. Cheers, man.

Dom: Who was that? Lloyd?

Jonny: Yeah. Shit. This is getting serious…he’s bringing some German girls.

Dom: Shit. Still, more sausages…

Now, this blog is by no means going to become sausage-centric (or even meat-focussed, for that matter), but  the tenuous fate of the home nations in the Sausage World Championships at Jonny’s house got me worried…thank goodness the footballers don’t go around boasting about how good their team’s sausages are…

Enough with the sausages! Where's the cake?


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