(no subject)

How odd.

I logged on and found my LJ had, by itself, added a community to my list. That community which I shall not mention by name has now been removed. I am, however, a little narked that a bunch of binary bitys should be so presumptious.

Pace. It's deleted, I am no longer an accidental member and that suffices.

Otherwise, I have spent the evening in the Bread and Roses in the company of romney and Miss Clark sans LJ drinking overpriced Erdinger Weissbier and shooting the breeze. And most pleasant it was too despite the heat that Hell has sent to taunt us. (A full change of clothes twice in one day is too much by anyone's standards).

The topics of conversation included walking backwards in time, the proper method storming mediaeval castles and the problems inherent in fencing in Valetta (Malta) during a heat wave.

I can think of no other trio of my acquaintance who would cover these topics and I count myself blessed.

At some point I shall explain the castle thing, for there is a story to be had there. But not tonight gentle reader, I am too hot and just soused enough to be able to sleep.

Perhaps.

(no subject)

How odd.

I logged on and found my LJ had, by itself, added a community to my list. That community which I shall not mention by name has now been removed. I am, however, a little narked that a bunch of binary bitys should be so presumptious.

Pace. It's deleted, I am no longer an accidental member and that suffices.

Otherwise, I have spent the evening in the Bread and Roses in the company of romney and Miss Clark sans LJ drinking overpriced Erdinger Weissbier and shooting the breeze. And most pleasant it was too despite the heat that Hell has sent to taunt us. (A full change of clothes twice in one day is too much by anyone's standards).

The topics of conversation included walking backwards in time, the proper method storming mediaeval castles and the problems inherent in fencing in Valetta (Malta) during a heat wave.

I can think of no other trio of my acquaintance who would cover these topics and I count myself blessed.

At some point I shall explain the castle thing, for there is a story to be had there. But not tonight gentle reader, I am too hot and just soused enough to be able to sleep.

Perhaps.

(no subject)

For some reason this morning my interweb connection has all the responsivity of a leaden sloth on prozac.

It vexeth me mightily....

(no subject)

For some reason this morning my interweb connection has all the responsivity of a leaden sloth on prozac.

It vexeth me mightily....

The Sunday Ramble.

I really wanted to write something today, but the incessant heat that comes with being in a London summer has just about sapped my energy.

It's cooler now of course, but I am nonetheless drained of energy. I think I need to get out into the countryside - somewhere where any and every bit of extended greenery isn't like to be covered in sunbathing trolls and/or dog shit and discarded McDonald's wrappers.

I am not a city person at heart.

I have barely strayed from the influence of my electric fan all day. There's barely any movement in the air without it and keeping cool is becoming a major preoccupation. And I dare not give in to the desire to sleep since that will leave me wandering around during the small hours at a loss for anything to do and then, tomorrow morning, unable to raise myself for another exciting week in the office.

Dammit, I'm even listening to the Style Council out of choice, fior God's sake and apart from Shout to the Top, I'm not overly keen on Weller's post-Jam knit your own yoghurt vaguely right on music approach.

But hot weather will do that to musical tastes. I expect I'll be dusting off the Gipsy Kings soon.

I don't mind Weller being a lefty, but I don't like being preached at by someone holding a glass of champagne and looking round for the caviar. Having said that he is a pretentious git, and that covers a multitude of sins.

So, to end the evening I suppose I might sachay down to the pub and have a few pints of sedative and try to blag some free trade tickets to the Great British Beer Festival which is coming up at the beginning of August.

On the plus side, I've found my copy of John Barleycorn Must Die. Now I can't find the Uriah Heep collection. I am beginning to think there must be a Borrower family on the premises with a taste for psychedelic/progressive/heavy rock.

Note to self: Put more poison down.

The Sunday Ramble.

I really wanted to write something today, but the incessant heat that comes with being in a London summer has just about sapped my energy.

It's cooler now of course, but I am nonetheless drained of energy. I think I need to get out into the countryside - somewhere where any and every bit of extended greenery isn't like to be covered in sunbathing trolls and/or dog shit and discarded McDonald's wrappers.

I am not a city person at heart.

I have barely strayed from the influence of my electric fan all day. There's barely any movement in the air without it and keeping cool is becoming a major preoccupation. And I dare not give in to the desire to sleep since that will leave me wandering around during the small hours at a loss for anything to do and then, tomorrow morning, unable to raise myself for another exciting week in the office.

Dammit, I'm even listening to the Style Council out of choice, fior God's sake and apart from Shout to the Top, I'm not overly keen on Weller's post-Jam knit your own yoghurt vaguely right on music approach.

But hot weather will do that to musical tastes. I expect I'll be dusting off the Gipsy Kings soon.

I don't mind Weller being a lefty, but I don't like being preached at by someone holding a glass of champagne and looking round for the caviar. Having said that he is a pretentious git, and that covers a multitude of sins.

So, to end the evening I suppose I might sachay down to the pub and have a few pints of sedative and try to blag some free trade tickets to the Great British Beer Festival which is coming up at the beginning of August.

On the plus side, I've found my copy of John Barleycorn Must Die. Now I can't find the Uriah Heep collection. I am beginning to think there must be a Borrower family on the premises with a taste for psychedelic/progressive/heavy rock.

Note to self: Put more poison down.