An Apology to Lady Annabel Goldsmith

The Club needs to apologise to one of its most prestigious and loved members, Lady Annabel Goldsmith. Her Ladyship has close relations called Chaka Demus & Pliers, and was understandably upset at the tragic news below. We have a responsibility to point out that the Chaka Demus & Pliers employed by the club to maintain Sumo Wrestlers were the '90s pop stars, and not the members of the Goldsmith family who coincidentally share the same names. We cordially offer full membership privileges, including access to our moonbase, to Chaka Demus Goldsmith and Pliers Goldsmith in an attempt to make amends for the misunderstanding. Finally, as a tribute to Chaka Demus-not-Chaka-Demus-Goldsmith, let us ponder his own beautiful words:

Me ball tease me and tickle up me fancy
Right round the clock until me reach climax
A when me reach me will tell you to stop
We a aim for da sky
An we not turn back

Beautiful. Truly there is a new star in the heavens tonight.

Amanda Hamilton force feeds geese

The Club regrets to announce we have become involved in yet another territorial dispute over Virginia Water Lake. As all members will know, we have claimed sovereignty over the entire northern shoreline from the totem pole to that big log that sticks out a bit, ever since our tramps annexed the area from Shaggy in the initial stages of our conflict over the intellectual rights to the word 'Boombastic'.

However we have recently had to contend with incursions on to our shoreline by Amanda Hamilton. Since losing her place on 'Something For The Weekend' to the increasingly tired-looking Louise Redknapp (older club members may remember her as Louise Nurding, who, as part of Eternal, was briefly employed by the club to solve mysteries involving smugglers or disguised Nazi spies), Hamilton has gone into business producing probiotic organic Foie Gras, but has no capital to purchase geese, and her attempt to market badger foie gras has been largely met with either disgust or indifference everywhere except Cowdenbeath. As a result, Hamilton has resorted to nefarious tactics to ensnare Geese. The natural diet of geese is a mixture of seeds, insects and Ferrero Rocher, and Hamilton has been laying trails using the third of these to entice the geese from their underground warrens.

Can you imagine what a trail of individually-wrapped chocolate- and nut croquante- covered hazelnuts does to a flock of Sumo Wrestlers on a carefully controlled diet? Chaka Demus & Pliers have no need to imagine. They have stared into they abyss, and the abyss was full of Nutella-smeared obese Japanese on a sugar-high and severely traumatised Canadian Geese. Pliers used his super-strength to do all he could to corral and control our elite rikishi, but Hamilton's megalomaniacal and ethically questionable scheme to dominate the world of force-fed poultry was in tatters. Chaka Demus, tragically, is believed to be beyond repair. We may be able to salvage something from selling his ivory tusks, but the rest of him will have to be melted down to make post-it note glue. Our sympathies are with Mrs Demus, the little Demii and of course, his lifelong companion, confidante, and supplier of reputable hand tools, Pliers.

We also now face an implacable and formidable enemy with access to mediocre Italian confectionery and the ear of The Ambassador; Amanda Hamilton. The prospect of an entente cordiale between Hamilton and the hated Richard Hills, whose hamster stuffing enterprise complements Hamilton's force-feeding of poultry perfectly, is one that makes the Club's Internal Security Committee shudder. The resulting Hamster Foie Gras would be an abomination on a par with the pogroms, the sack of Rome and Celebrity Mr & Mrs. If only Bobby Davro was still with us; his network of informants and nuclear capability are sorely missed.

Emergency Extreme Weather Mode

Understandably, many members have been concerned over the welfare of our sumo wrestlers during the snowfall. These delicate creatures are obviously extremely sensitive to changes in climate and need to be carefully managed and maintained. One of the first actions of the Club in Emergency Extreme Weather Mode is to paint the toenails of all our wrestlers crimson. This is not, as is often thought, to allow them to hide in cherry trees. That is an urban legend, a fallacy, and rather impractical. Apart from the difficulty of finding a cherry tree capable of bearing the weight of a fully-loaded rikishi, nail polish of any colour does not afford effective camouflage; even if our boys forgo their pedicures for several weeks, the total body surface area covered by toenail is around 0.05%; and that 0.05% really doesn't resemble cherries at any distance. Of course, we found this out the hard way after the dismal failure of our 2003 Sumo Cherry Tree Parachute Ambush attempt on the hated Richard Hills.

No, we paint their toenails crimson so we can a) find them if they are upside down in the snow b) distinguish our wrestlers from the many migratory wrestlers that visit our shores at this time of year in search of food sources. Many of these migrants find their way to suburban back gardens where, unused to local fauna, they are often attacked and ravaged by domestic cats; there can be no sadder sight on a bird table than the aftermath of the merciless onslaught of a tabby on an innocent, unsuspecting sumo wrestler. We have tried to draw the attention of these beautiful, wild, fragile creatures to the RSPCA, but they appear to be unwilling to take us seriously. We request all our members avoid leaving any food in their back gardens that could entice any Japanese sportsmen into a potentially fatal situation.

As for our own stable of wrestlers, they are kept safe, fed, scrubbed and pedicured (except in cherry-blossom season) by our long-time professional stewards, Chaka Demus & Pliers. Pliers, of course, fell into a cauldron full of magic potion while still a baby and is therefore ideally placed to shepherd morbidly obese Japanese sportsmen. We are learning to live with his obsession with obeli and dolmen, but on the whole, he's one of the least troublesome mid '90s pop stars the Club have employed. The mess Dr Alban left behind when he was left in charge of the Annual Club Trip to Weston Super-Mare to celebrate Jeffrey Archer's birthday is still talked about in disgusted tones by the staff of Leigh Delamere Services. Of course, ongoing legal dispute between the club and Shaggy over our intellectual copyright claim to 'Boombastic' means we cannot go into details concerning his time with the club. We are optimistic the US Supreme Court will come to a favourable decision soon.

Hopefully the above has set members' minds at ease concerning our wrestlers' welfare. As mentioned in the previous issue, many members have also been asking what will happen to our hoard of strawberry cornettos, bought in anticipation of our modern triathlon of running, drinking and eating ice cream being added to the roster of events at the Summer Olympics. The short answer is that the cold weather has had little effect on our cornettos, which we keep in a large Samsung US-Style freezer (it dispenses ice as if by magic!). Frankly, it seems a rather stupid question. Where do these members think we store our cornettos? And why would they think cold weather would affect their storage? Surely, in cold weather, ice cream is the last thing to worry about. We are sometimes concerned by the intellectual capacity and bizarre concerns of some of our members. Perhaps the time has come for more entry conditions than currently. The Club shall give this serious consideration.

Chief Judge Len Goodman and the Chunky KitKat

Many members have been asking how the recent weather has been affecting the club's many ancillary activities. Under the Club's constitution, Article XXIII states that in the event of snow higher than an upended Chunky KitKat (the Club's standard unit of measurement, of course) falling on or near Chessington World of Adventures, the Club will enter Emergency Extreme Weather Mode. For many club members, this will mean little. For some, it will mean wearing a different coloured hat and interpreting the Book of Leviticus literally. For a few, primarily those on the Club's Covert Operations and Genetic Experimentation sub-committee, it means Defcon 5.

The Club convened at Chessington at around 5 o'clock on tuesday, as the snow began falling on the ceremonial chunky KitKat. As always, Chief Judge Len Goodman was in attendance to ensure all measurements were accurate. Initially there were some problems balancing an irregular hexahedron on its smallest trapezoidal face, a logistical quandary not foreseen by the framers of our constitution. To overcome this, we leant the KitKat against a Knee-height wall by the Penguin Cove. Chief Judge Len confirmed this was within accepted parameters and the measurement continued. As the snow fell, the Club's spirits were maintained by Chief Judge Len's jocular banter and occasional demonstration of the correct location of the hips during a spirited American Smooth. Chief Judge Len knows a surprising amount about badgers, Catalonian Cuisine and Wolverhampton Wanderers' 1971-72 UEFA Cup campaign.

By 7 o'clock, the snow had reached the toppermost serrated edge of the foil wrapper and Emergency Extreme Weather Mode was declared by Chief Judge Len. He was thanked for his attendance, given a biscuit, and the Covert Operations and Genetic Experimentation sub-committee leapt into action. Our next issue will cover what this means for the Sumo Wrestlers, our Olympic ambitions and our hoard of strawberry cornettos.

Come back to the warm embrace of the club, Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum

The Club is sad to announce the suspension of one of our longstanding members, Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Prime Minister and Vice President of the United Arab Emirates, the Emir of Dubai, qualified taekwondo referee, founder member of the Sugababes and introducer of camel racing to North-West Surrey. Al, as we all know him, has failed to pay his subs for the fifth month running. Many members feel we should allow His Excellency a certain amount of latitude due to his contributions to the club over the years. We all appreciate the marvellous halal quince jam he always made for the Summer Fete, the imaginative and exotic raffle prizes he donated, and of course, his $15bn bankrolling of the Club's first attempt to put a Sumo Wrestler on the moon. It is fair to say that without the Gulf-based Prime Minister's commitment, the flying monkeys may never have got off the ground.

However, his £12.50 owed subs (Al receives a 20% monthly discount because of his frequent eater status at Pizza Express Haslemere) cannot be overlooked any longer. As money is tight for so many of us at the moment, we have even offered to take payment in kind; our Co-op account and constitution allows for payment in Krugerrands, Oil or non-traceable Liechtenstein Bearer Bonds. We'd love to take the Quince Jam in payment, but the Co-op doesn't have the necessary deposit facilities, so it would just make a mess of our books. Therefore, we regret that we must blackball Al until full restitution is made. Any member coming across His Highness must be sure to point at him and shout 'Witch!Witch!' in line with club rule XIV.i . If Al is seen attempting to run round the lake in contravention of his suspension, then the Grand Marshal of the Tramp Army must be informed; he will join Richard Hills on our List of Club Enemies.

We pray he sees sense. Come back to the warm embrace of the club, Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum. Our weekly Taekwondo cagefights will have an emir-shaped hole and we will think of you with a tear in our eye whenever we spread soft fruit-based preserves on toasted bread.

Tramps outsmart and eat monkeys

The Club would like to inform all members that the fate of our flying monkeys has been discovered. Unfortunately, it would appear that simultaneously releasing flying monkeys and an army of tramps was inadvisable, as the tramps have eaten the monkeys. We're very pleased that the intensive ingenuity training all our tramps underwent during boot camp appears to have paid off, as luring and trapping flying monkeys is fraught with obstacles and involved significant 'thinking outside the box' on the part of our tramps. They managed to concoct a primitive, but effective, yellow dye from shoplifted Advocaat, Cream Soda and two-day-old sick. They used this dye to disguise themselves as giant bananas, visible from altitude, which naturally attracted the flying monkeys. Once grounded, it is, of course, reasonably straightforward for a motivated, goal-focused tramp to overpower a monkey.

This has all been a useful learning experience, and had the unexpected bonus of producing a potential new revenue-stream for the Club. When we strained the banana dye from the tramps' beards and clothing (it is a statutory requirement that all tramp soldiers are strained and deloused before being returned to the hangar), the resulting substance was found to bear a significant resemblance in taste, alcoholic content, and production process, to WKD Orange. We are now in discussions with Schweppes concerning the marketing. Every cloud, even one filled with flying monkeys, appears to have a silver lining.

Several of our Monkeys are missing

The Club would like to ask all members to keep an eye out for a gaggle of flying monkeys. We have lost our monkeys. They were each issued with a A-Z of Datchet and the surrounding area, but it would appear that monkeys lack the ability to equate a two-dimensional abstract representation of the landscape with the three-dimensional reality. We didn't warn them about the Heathrow flight path either.
On the positive side, we have forwarded our valuable findings concerning chimpanzee map-reading ability to our good friends at the Monkey World Research Instititute. We have also learnt some important lessons for any future club projects involving airborne primates.

Richard Hills shall reap the whirlwind

The Club has some grave news regarding our deadly enemy, the hated Richard Hills. He recently broke the terms of our detente with an unprovoked attack on an innocent hamster, breaking unwritten laws of ethics and several written laws, including Surrey County Council by-laws concerning rodent mistreatment in wooded areas. We can stand idly by no longer. Appeasement does not work when dealing with the likes of Hills. We have no alternative but to declare Total War. The flying monkeys have been released and the Grand Marshal is preparing the Tramp Army. They have been told to show no mercy. Richard Hills has sown hamsters and shall reap the whirlwind.

Club New Year Resolutions 2010

1. To neutralise Richard Hills and thwart his evil plans, obviously.

2. To make the modern Triathlon of running, drinking and eating ice cream an Olympic sport in time for London 2012
3. To have our Perambulation Club jingle played on Radio 2 during drivetime and have either Ant or Dec perform our club dance live on ITV 1.
4. To do all we can to bring Shami Chakrabarti and Howard Donald from Take That together. They're made for each other, those two.
5. To give serious consideration to whether nature really intended monkeys to fly. In our power-mad quest for revenge, have we lost sight of humanity? What have we become, people?

6. To build a Six Million Dollar Tramp. We have the technology and we have the capability to build the world's first Bionic Tramp. We can make him better than he was before. Better, stronger, faster, hairier, shoutier, stampier, drunkier.
7. To go through the looking-glass and dare to run around the lake anti-clockwise rather than clockwise to see if it really would result in the dead rising from their graves, as recently posited by our Club Treasurer.

8. To concentrate on expanding the Sumo Wrestling element of the club. Having invested in all those leather nappies and manbags to carry them, we need to utilise this valuable club asset. The only alternative uses we can think of for leather nappies are of dubious morality, illegal under European law and, quite frankly, deeply unhygienic.
9. Not to allow any more small dogs to steal our hats
10. To form a Rapid Reaction Quiz Team capable of deployment at high speed to any Pub Quiz and highly trained at shouting out incorrect answers while drinking bad wine.