The slug was checking out the Grosvenor boys Dee-tails site, and was pleased to see that Tim Donovan has finally picked a name for housemate Merv Knight's new sculling boat. Despite lots of entries to the boat naming competition, Tim finally chose "SOFA COBRA" allegedly because of Merv's couch antics with women.

However, it has come to the slug's attention, that there may be another reason behind the name, for it is said that Merv is a rather "large" chap and doesn't need to use the same "sock enhanced" tactics as the rest of the Grosvenor boys...


Now, the slug is the first one to condone following one's coxswains every command, however whilst sliming around Henley at the weekend, the Slug was informed that a certain Thames RC Girlie took following her cox'ns call of "Last man out at the finish" to the extreme.

After numerous double vodka shots, pimms, beer and Remenham-bar-staff-only- know-what else, she managed to completly black out EVERYTHING that happened from 6pm onwards ( i.e. barbeque? what barbeque..fireworks? what fireworks?) and is now currently requesting details from anyone who might have a clue what she got up to from that point on.

The next conscious memories she has of her great day out at HRR are at 12:15am when she was woken up by the Remenham Staff as they informed her she was to be the last man out, "Excuse me you'll have to leave love, you are the last one here and we closed an hour ago". So, assisted to the door by the kind staff...and looking a little worse for wear, she began the slow walk along the towpath only to realise she had no money, no wallet and no mates and finally no idea of the address where her crew was staying, - other than a vague recollection involving Twyford and two roundabouts - the concept of left and right had, by this stage, escaped her.

After considering walking home for about 0.25 seconds she managed to convince an Englishman and Canadian, who were waiting for a cab in approximately the same direction, to share the ride.

Despite negotiating through rather the massive beer goggles now glued on her head and feeling like death warmed up in a napalm oven with a Canuck telling her she didn't know where she was going (To which she replied, "And being from Toronto one week ago you would eh?") she somehow managed to find the house, run inside grab 20 quid from her crewmates and be sound asleep by 1am.

She awoke the next morning to check for any scratches or bruises of which there were none, so she figures that rather than being abducted by aliens, she simply had a reasonably boring slip into unconsciouness... but if anyone could possibly fill in the missing 6 hours she would greatly appreciate it...

Answers on an e-postcard to the usual address...


Another nice bit of slime the Slug happened to pick up with its little twitchy feelers, whilst munching on the leaves in the Remenham Club Hedge involves one particularly game young lady member of a Tideway club, who apparently can't wait to get her hands on its Queen Mother Cup Quad boys. Every single one of them.

Apparently - according to those so indiscreet as to talk openly within earshot of the Slug - this young lass has already made something of a head start and was "spotted" at the club's annual Horizontal Training Camp in France "with" one particularly Aristocratic member of the said Quad.

Interesting,...especially as we have it on good authority that she has pledged her troth... but unfortunately not to any of the four gentlemen in question.

Beastly, simply beastly!


Spectators in the Stewards' enclosure at the recent Henley Royal regatta may well have looked twice at their programmes when a particular Queen Mother Cup Quad went by. For despite their number 2 being such a well-known character on the tideway ,even the soberest reveller at the Fawling-over bar could be forgiven for having mistaken his identity.

For you see, faithful reader, for although the utterly gorgeous, very well endowed young lady at the hair salon told him that his "scalp may hurt a little" - it didn't. In fact our intreped hero's scalp is so tough, that he didn't feel a thing, so being a true hard-man he asked for more. Yes, instead of being given the usual once over hair bleaching treatment, he went for it again, hammer and tongs... and his skull did not so much as tickle.

The result was one of the most reflective barnets the Slug has ever clapped its feeler-length eyes on before. Take it or leave it - there's no middle ground on this one, either you like it or you don't.


The slug had a fine time at Henley Royal regatta, drinking gin, sliming up and down the towpath and even watching a bit of rowing. Entertainment, included:
  • avoiding Jim McNiven (cause he wants to push me in the river);
  • being told lots of good dirt which I was too pissed to remember;
  • leading Americans astray;
  • looking for the worst outfit in Stewards and
  • studying the racing form, in an attempt to establish who was the fattest bastard of the regatta.
  • The slug was interested to note that one of the Auriol Kensington boys was trying very hard to claim the prize, his weight increasing from 15st 7lbs to 16st 6lbs between Wednesday and Thursday's programmes, however even this rapid weight gain was not enough to topple Matthew Pinsent from his rightful place, having weighed in at a whopping 17st 3lbs - big boy, the slug salutes you.

    RQ was being job-shadowed by an enterprizing 12 year old girl on Thursday and the slug was glad to see that she made full use of being in the competitors enclosure - working out her top ten totty crews in Henley Babewatch. Not surprisingly - bearing in mind her youthful perspective - most of those included in her top ten were school boy crews, well, with a notable exception being the appearance of boys in blue - London A Thames cup boat at number seven. The common consensus from the London boys, was that this honour was solely down to the presence of sex god Mark "Hawsie" Hawes in the bow seat, (indeed rumour has it that Hawsie was asked by someone in Stewards if he was taking part in the Princess Elizabeth...)

    The Auriol Kensington boys are keen to establish a new hard image for themselves and have had a load of lovely new AK blazers made up, this is the first time such an item has existed as the only other blazers date from before the Merger of Kensington RC with Auriol. The blazers are cream with pink and green trim, leading to the comment that they "look like walking ice cream cones" as calls of "MR WHIPPY!!!" resounded down the towpath.

    FACTOR 5?

    A word of warning for any girlies lucky enough to pull a male Imperial College rower this season, for the Slug has it on good authority that the IC camoflague lycra has a disconcerting side effect. Yes, faithful reader, we can exclusively reveal that the different colours on their lycra all-in-ones appear to have different SPF factors, and as a result of this slight oversight and some sunny weather last weekend, the boys have developed all over camoflague tans where the sun's rays have penetrated the blocks of colour on their lycra at different intensities ...

    So if any of you manage to get one of Billy's boys in a state of undress, don't panic, for the slug can reassure you that the blotches aren't caused by some strange skin disease... (we hope)


    The slug recently had the joyous experience of attending the annual Stags dinner, the Stags being the gracious alumini of Southampton University Boat Club. The dinner took place on a river boat belonging to one Bushnell's boatyard which left Wargrave and headed down river to Henley while those on board ate, drank and made merry.

    During the trip, those male members present, headed up on deck to salute the town of Henley upon Thames in their own inimitable fashion - much to the amazment of those watching from the banks.

    Luckily, the slug had a camera on hand, so you can get the full effect HERE and HERE. (Though, those of you who are easily offended may wish to read on instead.)