Sex and Bowls

I have long been an admirer of privatesecretdiary.com, a little bit like Bridget Jones, if Bridget Jones was a ruddy faced Norfolk man who specialised in bowls, pool and the keeping of chickens, not to mention the keeping one step ahead of the LTLP. I have marvelled at his passion for bowls and long wondered about the day when oldness would creep up on me and cosh me with a sensible jumper. I am still a boy, and bowls strikes me as the sort of pastime that your only suited to once the mid life crisis has come along and knocked you about a bit.
However, this good weather has allowed me to sit out in the Beer Garden of the village pub, which previously, in the bad weather, was solely the domain of the desperate smoker that once made the great British pub great (allegedly). It is here that I have come across petanque, a hybrid of the great crown green tradition and the game that is always being played behind Judith Chalmers when shes extolling the virtues of some hidden jewel in Provence. Here an assorted collection of varying shaped men resplendant in ill fitting Welsh Rugby shirts can be witnessed chucking small silver balls up and down a gravel pit, while providing an increasingly louder commentary on their prowess to the onlooking crowd of three (and a dog)
They are one short - they invite me to join. I think I will wait for Judith Chalmers to arrive!