Am I in focus?
Evenin' all,
It's a late old Saturday, and in the spirit of 'don't drink'n'type', slash 'shorter blog entries but more often', I've decided to drop a line or two. Anyway, it seems that no-one comments unless I stop posting, so I won't let that put me off...
I'm fresh off the elated wave that is one's first celebrity sighting - I caught Woody Allen and Soon-Yi making their way to the cafe under my work. It's heady stuff, and I can't really talk about it now 'cos it's way too intense, but I'll give you a briefing shortly. All I can say for now is that only George and I saw him, as we left the pub at the same time as everyone else, but thanks to our mutual love of fast walking, we were the only ones who spotted Woody. As a result we're sure that everyone else from work will only be able to say, "I saw someone see Woody Allen", and consider ourselves the winners.
I went out to see the Summer Solstice at Stonehenge on Monday night, just to reconnect with my pagan origins. The pagan originalists were outnumbered 7 to 1 by teenage lager louts, and we were treated to one young lad burning all his dignity (with accelerant, in a rubbish bin) in front of a squadron of police. Let's just say he was on his knees, and it wasn't pretty...
Photos will follow, but a lapse in decommissioning procedures meant that I left my photo out at Bec and Mike's that night. I will rectify this tomorrow when I head out there to inaugurate Mike's 30th birthday celebrations. He's one of the finest people I know, with a heart of ambrosia and many a word of wisdom. Unfortunately his elbow is bung, so I'll knock $4.99 off for wear and tear.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Michael Weight: philanthropist
Happy Birthday fine sir, and just you wait until the next game.
Your man, running out of sign-off lines...
Arch :)
2 Comments:
Who sent me that Wiblog link? That's art, and I endorse it. I don't expect many other people to think that it's good, but that's part of liking it (nod to Aaron).
Damn you - posting comments on my blog the very moment I post, complaining about people not commenting on my site...
There once was a starling named Dave and he was turning 2.
Mommy starling (who had nice gamms) said to young Dave. “What do you want for your birthday?” to which he replied "a briefcase”
"a briefcase!” replied mommy “why whatever do you want a briefcase for?” she cried.
“so I can live in it” replied Dave.
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