So spoke The Grim Reaper in Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life. Englishman: yes; balls: still there when I last checked, but by this time tomorrow they could well resemble two shrivelled raisins and be as hard to locate as Osama Bin Laden. Perhaps not the most sensible of fiftysomething pastimes, tomorrow I am about to undertake what is known as The Grim Challenge, an eight-mile run over hills, through mud and deep water on land used to test army vehicles.
Extremely grim, especially for the bald-headed man just left of centre that found a pothole.
Apparently it helps if you wear a luminous hat.
If running the Grim Challenge is not mad enough, a group of fellow runners I would loosely describe as friends are dressing up as 1980s wrestlers, group-leader Andy planning to make an appearance as Brutus “The Barber” Beefcake, apparently so called as he would knock his opponents out with a sleeper hold and then cut their hair. No disrespect to gay men, but having taken a look at his costume the name Brutus “The Bender” Beefcake comes to mind.
I personally will be drawing the line at a luminous hat.
The not-at-all-gay-looking "Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake.
...And his not-at-all-gay-looking doll.
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