A joint training session is always rememberable. Going towards the men's team to try and contribute, you have a hunch one of two things is gonna happen. Either, someone is gonna kill you, or noone dares to touch you. On a rare occasion, you get both (so everyone runs miles around you apart from this one guy who desperately needs to prove a point). Today they were all very careful.
This was acceptable, albeit annoying, until we split forwards and backs to do some lineouts. Now of course I won't criticise newbies for being bad lifters, but if we fail because you're too awkward to hold a woman, something must be done. You need to realise we're never gonna win the ball that way... AND: if you guys drop me because of a feeble gentleman's grip, I'm not gonna be happy. So next time - just grab my arse, will you!
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Ladies' conversation afterwards:
- I think I kicked someone in the face...
- I broke someone's finger...
- They love it when we join in, don't they?
torsdag 27 mars 2014
söndag 16 mars 2014
A so called boys' night out
The last round of Six nations was celebrated properly, as it should be. Some of us tried to watch all the games, but honestly, a red card in an already awful game can make anyone lose interest temporarily. For a few shaky moments the bar staff also claimed there was no more red wine, but the evening was nicely saved by finding another bag in box and the start of France-Ireland.
A couple of weekends ago Junior became famous for coming on a girls' night out. Tonight was the night to return the favour. With a clear majority of men's team players (hence boys' night out) me and the Red Boots Girl tagged along. So: what is the difference between girls' and boys' night out really? I'll tell you the truth - not a single bloody thing. There was gossip. There was alcohol. We were in a godawful place reluctantly talking to ugly strangers, just like last time. The conversation topics ranged from fashion, linguistics and medical issues to technical problems and relationship advice.* Some tried to be nice to their friends and set them up with possible flirts, other spilled dirty secrets about their friends as soon as they left the room. Some were denied more purchases by the bar staff (Nelson, I thought you could hold your beer better than that!)
Past midnight, the Scotsman won the bet over the redhead and Jim and Jeff went home together as usual. I think this little study proves that both men and women are from Mars and noone is from Venus, at least when drunk. I also think that I promised to play for the B team some time this year. Ah well, time will tell if it was a small price to pay for my discoveries.
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* fashion and linguistics both come in under the discussion about the red boots and how spectacularly wanktastic they were. (Let's also mention music as the discussion made more than one person sing these boots are made for wanking... Nancy Sinatra might not find it funny, but we did.) Medical issues was addressed as we found out how unpleasantly surprised you can get if someone starts nosebleeding over your naked body. The technical problems concerned big or small TVs, possibly with batteries and a private joke in there somewhere. Relationship advice needs no further explanation.
A couple of weekends ago Junior became famous for coming on a girls' night out. Tonight was the night to return the favour. With a clear majority of men's team players (hence boys' night out) me and the Red Boots Girl tagged along. So: what is the difference between girls' and boys' night out really? I'll tell you the truth - not a single bloody thing. There was gossip. There was alcohol. We were in a godawful place reluctantly talking to ugly strangers, just like last time. The conversation topics ranged from fashion, linguistics and medical issues to technical problems and relationship advice.* Some tried to be nice to their friends and set them up with possible flirts, other spilled dirty secrets about their friends as soon as they left the room. Some were denied more purchases by the bar staff (Nelson, I thought you could hold your beer better than that!)
Past midnight, the Scotsman won the bet over the redhead and Jim and Jeff went home together as usual. I think this little study proves that both men and women are from Mars and noone is from Venus, at least when drunk. I also think that I promised to play for the B team some time this year. Ah well, time will tell if it was a small price to pay for my discoveries.
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* fashion and linguistics both come in under the discussion about the red boots and how spectacularly wanktastic they were. (Let's also mention music as the discussion made more than one person sing these boots are made for wanking... Nancy Sinatra might not find it funny, but we did.) Medical issues was addressed as we found out how unpleasantly surprised you can get if someone starts nosebleeding over your naked body. The technical problems concerned big or small TVs, possibly with batteries and a private joke in there somewhere. Relationship advice needs no further explanation.
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