I've never known anything to require so much planning as the Fup.

To be honest all the months ahead of time secret buzz and excited noises seems worse than a bunch of teenage schoolgirls planning a slumber party.

AND NOW SOME ARE EVEN GOING BY CAR?

BY CAR??

Why, in MY day we didn't even decide it was a do until after we'd already gotten there, and the only planning we ever did was checking to see if the tyres ON OUR MOTORCYCLES weren't flat two minutes before setting off into parts unknown with only a pocket knife and a thin blanket for supplies.

We ate what we could find or kill and we drank whatever we could get or brew locally, and we formed raiding parties and invaded the border towns by night, sometimes returning with a selection of local wenches and livestock to pleasure ourselves with and to eat (and I'm not even going to HINT at which ones we ate and which ones we pleasured ourselves with).

Back in THEM days men was MEN, and we didn't need no longwinded, complicated, girly-squeeking cat hearding for months in advance just to gather together somewhere and call it good for a few days. Sometimes we even bred with the locals and formed settlements, if we weren't repelled by some irate clansmen or somebody and forced to retreat back to where we came from, but we were HAPPY to be given a damn good thrashing- It made the do memorable, it made us MEN! Hell, most of the time half of us never even made it back alive.

What a bunch of girlies...


























Girlies I tells ya!