Thursday, 2 October 2008


I've a conker that's been in my family for generations. It's been handed down from father to son since 1862 and I'm the present custodian. Withered by age and cracked by battle when passed to me as a proud 2,379er, I took it upon myself to retire the conker from active service.
The conker (Mortal Konker we named it) was on its last string when I performed necessary surgery which was vital if I was to keep the family tradition of 'pass the conker' going. I took a frail and weak conker and entombed it in an impregnable protective casing. This is the Dalek of all conkers but how did I pimp my conker? Well...
  • Delicately, the rotting inners were ripped out of it and replaced with industrial strength modelling clay.
  • 9 feet of sellotape was wound tightly round it's new buffed up body.
  • Within the sellotape layers of foam were placed to cushion mighty blows from challenging conkers.
  • A metal cap that keeps my toilet seat in place was removed, washed and bleached and washed again and placed on the topside surface of Mortal Konker to protect it from mighty blows from challenging conkers. My toilet seat was now rendered useless.
  • But it ain't all defence, Chester! Five small protrudencies have been strategically placed around Mortal Konker's circumference to rain mighty blows down on challenging conkers.
  • And all this is secured in place by a red rubber band kindly donated by Steve, my postman and 2 more feet of sellotape.
So the family tradition of 'pass the conker' will continue for several more generations yet, but the other family tradition of 'pass the toilet seat' ends with me.