Apparently, pubs were thrown open in Wales for the first time in over a year, with predictable, Train-Smashy results:
Of course, the girls had no shortage of male companionship:
Well, maybe not ALL the girls:
I can’t help thinking that she’s a little too old for such shenanigans, but that’s just me.
We are all familiar with Train Smash Women Central (i.e. Liverpool’s racetrack for the Grand National — just search this site for “Aintree”), so it comes with some relief (mixed with regret) that Royal Ascot seems to have been wonderfully devoid of such creatures this year. Some examples:
Here’s the always-lovely Charlotte Hawkins:
…although of course, while exquisitely dressed, she had That Thing on her head — and there were likewise more than a few examples of regrettable millinery:
Which leads me to the rather cruel conclusion that the only upside to the Covid face-diaper is that it spares us from the sight of British Teeth.
Oh, and while looking admittedly dapper, comedian / musician Bill Bailey still holds the title of “He Who Is More In Need Of A Haircut Than Any White Man In The Entire World”.
Go there and see for yourself.
The UK, like us, have a long (“Bank Holiday”) weekend now, whereupon the Brits, like us, do a spot of carousing.
When that occurs Over There, can Train Smash Women be far behind?
Enjoy.
Ladies and Gentlemen, and those who aren’t Quite Sure, please welcome the latest addition to the ranks of Train Smash Women: Rupert Murdoch’s granddaughter!
Now read the full catastrophe… and she’s only 21.
As Britons finally begin to slip the surly bonds of lockdown and once again venture into the pleasures of public intoxication, I ask myself: can Train Smashdom once again rear its wonderful… errr, head?
Apparently so. And I would be remiss if I didn’t show at least a few of them.
What I like almost as much is that Stout Bulldogs were not going to let a little thing like icy temperatures or freezing rain prevent them from taking the grandchildren out for some fish ‘n chips:
Bravo, all of you. Sadly, the restrictions were eased too late for us to enjoy the Train Smash Grand Prix — a.k.a. the Grand National at Aintree:
…but there’s always next year.
Ahhhhh, when it’s a Bank Holiday (U.S. “long”) weekend, can the Train Smash Women be far behind?
Of course not: they’re quite up front [sic] :
And, as usual, all over the place:
As we used to say (back when one could say such things): “Take her ‘ome, Jimmy; she’s ready.”
Follow the link: there are approximately half a dozen regrettable decisions in every pic.