OPEN POST: Chasing the Cheese; 17th Century British Tradition

Only in the UK would people risk life and limb to chase a rolling round of cheese down a hill like daredevil banshees without caring one bit about cracking their skulls.  Forget all that staid, stiff upper lip business; just stroll down Any Street UK with loads of clubs and bars on a celebratory Friday night, and you will not see Lordly behavior. You will see pink-faced Brits behaving wildly drunk off their arses and being tackled by the police. That is how it looks to this American who has seen drunken throngs on weekend nights in locales across the globe, but they excel in this area. Don't believe me? Okay, then, let's take this cheese-rolling contest.

Admittedly, people from all over the world throw their bodies down a bumpy hill to chase a wheel of cheese like the medieval Olympics, not for money or fame, just to say they won as they end up in a broken heap across the finish line. They survived, and that gives you swagger rights. It is a flex y'all. It is clout chasing at its finest. 

In Gloucester, Southwest England, on a nearly vertical hill, 7lbs of cheese is rolled down speeding by a "Master of Cheese," and off the competitors go tumbling and sliding, bouncing to the bottom to catch the wheel. I would never ever...oh wait...local English rugby players wait at the bottom to catch the competitors. Still, I could...local rugby players, they say? Hmmm. No, still, I would never want to get hurt just to be cradled in the arms of a buff rugby guy and looked after tenderly as I snuggle closer to that...ahem. No, I have more pride. 

Hey...comeback...are you Peckers booking tickets? Rugby thighs, you say? I have never seen you guys move at such a speed. Fuck the cheese; you will risk a broken neck to be in the arms of a strappy sexy rugby guy? Sluts and hors, the lot of you. It's dangerous...forget it; rugby thighs overrule my warnings, I see. 

Back to my post if any of you are still around to read it. Geesh. There are three men's races, and women have one, too. Emergency services usually attend, but not this year. I guess they figure if you are fool enough to be willing to risk a concussion, then they will see you when you call. 

Good luck, and oh, FFS, wait up. RUGBY THIIIIIIGHS! I am coming too. For the...Gloucester cheese, of course.