Day 1 - Final Re-entry

Young James finally got back in from work and we all got ready to leave for Dover. After many showers and jelling up sessions, James was finally ready to leave for Dover. Correction; after James had his final dump, looked in the mirror - again, jelled up and applied various after shaves, we tasked young Nicola to take the group photographs, and then we were off to Dover.

Well, not quite; we went to the nearest titty bar in Maidstone and had a few pints of foaming ale whilst watching scantily clad young ladies remove what was left of their clothing. Bomber got the eye in the titty bar - from a bloke, so we made a swift departure before any heemasexer shenanigans took place.

Imagine Bomber's dismay to find a parking ticket attached to his murtahurm when we eventually found where we had parked. On closer inspection it was a £1,000,000 fine for parking in a space not designated for Geordies. It had been delivered by the crew of Thunderbird 2, ha, ha. Nice one Mouldy, what a cracking bite!

To alleviate further confusion:

Murtahurm 1 (Spit roast special) - crewed by Bomber (aka Mag 1), Jan P (aka Mag 5) and Big Jock (aka Mag 6)

Murtahurm 2 (Thunderbird 2) - crewed by Mouldy (aka Mag 3), Benger (aka Mag 2) and James (aka Mag 4)

All other titles have been dispensed with from my postings.

Back to the story; We eventually left Maidstone, and for those who said we wouldn't make it out of Calais because we would be on the piss there, you were wrong - we didn't even make it out of Maidstone before we got on the piss, ha, ha.

Heading for Dover we didn't encounter any further dramas except Big Jock shouting and swearing at Bomber's car stereo for not complying with his iPod. It would be assimilated and like it!  Normal service was resumed at Fat Boy FM when we reached the A20.

The two-way radio system between murtahurms was shite, to say the least, so Jimmy Nail was turned up on Fat Boy FM and Bomber was singing like a canary, Big Jock was farting like a Devon cow and Jan P was gagging like a porn star.

We pulled in to Dover and nearly got on the ferry, but the oldest member of Thunderbird 2 had to empty his colostomy bag and Big Jock needed to grab his final Burger King!

The ferry crossing was uneventful except that Benger and Mouldy forgot to pick up James on departure and the Spit roast special gained an extra crew member or should I say playmate? James now has an arse like a Japanese battle ensign - that will teach you to arrive unannounced young man,...... young man!

We have now stopped for the night in Mouldy's favourite dogging site, just south of Dunkirk (Ayres rock, I think). After a gentleman's glass of port and a few salty sea stories we are all off to bed. The time is now 3.18am (European time).