THE MUSINGS OF ONE OF THE MOST ELOQUENT THINKERS IN BIKERDOM

undreds around the UK marking the 75th anniversary celebration of VE day had to be cancelled for fear of people infecting each other with Chinese

Bat Flu, and even many quirky, and much-loved, traditional ones that reflect so much of our history and unique culture, in many cases which've been running for centuries, haven't escaped the effects of this insidious viral pandemic. 2020'11 be devoid of the joyful weirdness of uniquely British folk events such as the Tetbury Woolsack Race, the Scuttlebrook Wake, the Appleby Horse Fair, the Trooping the Colour, the Tweedmouth Salmon Feast, the Tolpuddle Martys Procession, the Chelsea Flower Show, Helston Furry Dance, the Hare Pie Scramble and

Bottle Kicking, the Burning of Bartle, the Nutters Dance at Bacup, the Marymass Festival in Irvine, the Padstow 'Obby 'Oss Festival, the Winchester Hat Fair, the World Alternative Games in Llanwrtyd Wells, the Stonehenge Summer Solstice, the Hunting of the Earl of Rone in Devon, Derbyshire Hen Racing, the Stonehaven Fireball Whirling in Aberdeenshire, and the Welsh Eisteddfod.

There can be few finer examples of British eccentricity than the 200-yearold Coopers Hill Cheese Rolling held annually in Gloucestershire. This is an event where huge crowds of people gather to enjoy the spectacle of dozens of lunatics rolling nine pound wheels of cheese down a very steep hill, and then taking off after them, risking life and limb as they hurtle headlong down the very steep 650ft hill, invariably tumbling arseover-tit at a great rate of knots in the process. It seems somewhat ironic that an event that's incurred so many injuries over two centuries's been cancelled because people might get hurt but, with the current official UK death toll from Covid-19 topping 35,000, it'd seem that history and tradition must, this year, take a back seat to pragmatism and survival.

Though I fully understand and appreciate the need for such restrictions on public events, there is one cancellation, in particular, that's extremely hard to bear - the

All Wazzocks Day Festival. The term 'wazzock' is an ancient English term used predominantly in the northern half of England (often in reference to people in the southern half), and was originally given only to the most gormless* and/or socially inept people in society but, over many hundreds of generations, it's now evolved to encompass all manner of fuckwits, retards, window lickers, trainspotters, stamp collectors, numpties, people with degrees in media studies or sociology, beauty therapists, traffic wardens and cyclists.

Though wazzock baiting's been a common pastime throughout northern England for many centuries, the more formal celebration of All Wazzocks

Day is believed to have originated in the village of Thrush-on-the-Muff near Preston, Lancashire, in the year 1432. Traditionally, the main event, following the morning's Wazzock Round-up, entails rolling the assembled wazzocks

IT WOULD SEEM THAT NOTHING'S SAFE FROM THE EFFECTS OF THE COVID19 PANDEMIC, AND MANY OF THE UK'S MOST ICONIC MOTORCYCLE RALLIES'VE BEEN CANCELLED, OR POSTPONED, IN ITS WAKE. INTO THE VALLEY, YOU'VE BEEN NABBED, THE PIL RALLY, THE FARMYARD, AND SO MANY MORE MUCH-LOVED EVENTS'VE FALLEN FOUL OF THE CURRENT BAN ON LARGE GATHERINGS OF PEOPLE,

AS'VE MANY OF THE ANNUAL FESTIVALS LIKE GLASTONBURY, READING AND LEEDS, AND EVEN THE WONDERFUL BEARDED THEORY. in a mixture of beef dripping, Prosecco, and broken Chip Sticks, then filling their pockets with broken biscuits and bits of pie crust, before releasing them five minutes before unleashing a gang of feral munters**.

At a traditional ratio of three munters to each wazzock (northern English towns've always been blessed with an over-abundance of munters), the pursuit continues through the town until all of the munters've either been side-tracked by Bacardi Breezers or are indulging in a quick bunk-up behind a skip with a drunken tramp. The wazzocks're then closely inspected, and the one with the fewest visible bite marks is adjudged to be the winner. The traditional prize for the victorious Wazzock of the Year is to become Chief Constable of Lancashire for 12 months, while runners-up're awarded council grants to help them set up dog grooming businesses or alternative therapy clinics.

The undisputed King of the Wazzocks was Archibald Shagnasty, winner of Wazzock of the Year every year from 1924 until his untimely death from Extreme Gnomes in 1935. He attributed his unparalleled success to being the first wazzock in history to realise that fat girls, while able to build up a lot of momentum on the straights, are generally pretty shit when it comes to cornering.

Having no other way of alleviating the frustration of lockdown, I can only hope that this informative historical article has at least caused you to smile for a while. Keep your distance, and stay safe.