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Welcome back to “Abban a laugh”. Since the last edition I have made some new friends who I consider to be brothers and sisters (though not in the African sense). Scott “I know how to impress girls on the beach” Shaw and Sam “Ball/Shaft/ Ball” Bosh and Myak of Papaya Photos, I salute you. In this edition, I review Newquay 7s. This was my first time at the Newquay 7s.

Getting there early allowed me to enjoy my second love, golf. Hang on...surely, it’s rugby, then chicken, then Jaeger train, then Rihanna (damn that girl is fine..I will make her my Princess...I wonder if she will move to my palace in Ghana?)...aarrgh too many choices....who am I kidding? Golf is truly outside my top 50. Nevertheless, with my new found buddies Scott “I know how to impress girls on the beach” Shaw and Sam Bosh, we hit the golf course. We all know Tiger was the first brother (well...half-brother) to become a golfing icon but you guys haven’t met the new kid on the block. Let me introduce a new character and another alter ego......Tiger Wooo, the new African golf sensation from Bulawayo. Damn that boy can really play. If you want to see how Rory McIlroy really learnt how to play, check out the videos at: Gs&feature=player_embedded s&feature=player_embedded

Tiger Wooo is available for personal coaching sessions for the healthy sum of 40 chickens (I must

remember to order another crate of Nandos extra hot sauce). Coaching your wife or your girlfriend will of course be discounted or if she is hot enough, free!!! Trust me; you want to take up this offer. It’s far better than anything you’ll see on QVC! After the fun and games of the golf we headed

to Mistral Beach where we learnt another valuable lesson. If you want to impress some hot girls, do not trip while walking, staring at them and then face planting the sand! Scottie, I hope the grazes have now disappeared. Newquay 7s had a great venue and great

weather which meant top off. Imagine my shock, when days later I noticed something strange going on with the skin on my shoulders. PANIC!!!! I thought I had contracted leprosy. When I summoned the palace doctor (yes as the Prince of Ghana, I have one on standby at all times), he informed it was sun burn! WHAT???? I thought he was mad as I thought this was only an affliction for my friends of a lighter hue!!! WTF?? This never happened in Ghana!!!! Someone pass me some factor 50.....or is it 2?. Forget it, cocoa butter will do. For those of you not in the know, chicks dig it

because it smells like chocolate. I should know the girls who throw petals in front of me as I walk round the palace are always trying to sniff me. Anyway back to the rugby, my two adopted

teams the Pink Baa Baas and the Pups were knocked out in the quarter finals. Well done to the Pups for finishing second in the series. I have no idea who won the finals as I was distracted by the entertainment in the crowd. A guy had passed out on the bank after too many drinks by the side of pitch one. People were taking it in turns to stitch him up and each time he did not wake up. This culminated in someone kicking him in his dingdings, and still he didn’t move. A hush descended on the crowd as someone went and checked his breathing. The shout came.....”He’s alive!” and crowd cheered. Next, a member of the Pink Baa Baas (who will remain nameless...initials S.P) streaked during the final. When someone shouted, chase her, Sam Bosh and I, in full fancy dress as Captain Kofi Blasso and Mario ran after her. I must have misheard, thinking someone said “race her” as I ran, caught her up and sprinted past her. Good to see there’s still some gas in the tank. Fancy dress was still a big part of the

tournament and it was good to see lots of people taking part. Needless to say, Captain Kofi Blasso was still recruiting for air hostesses. Post rugby entertainment consisted of going into town to Sailors, where Myak, Sam, Scottie, and the Baa Baas were getting on board the Jaeger train and dominating the dance floors. As with Bournemouth, it was camping, so true to form, I slept in my car. At least this time round, I didn’t knock my rear view mirror off. Driving back from Bournemouth without it was interesting. Driving back from Newquay was better. Newquay to London which should take 5 to 6 hours door to door took me 4 hours!! McLaren, if Lewis Hamilton is getting too big for his boots, give me a call! If the boys in blue are reading this, then obviously, I am using artistic licence for the purpose of this article. Till next time, keep “Abban a laugh”.

Issue 4 / / 57

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