Haikus,
haikus and
still more
haikus. Followed by
haikus and
haikus.
...but I think today might be all about
limericks.
There was a young blogger called Mike...
Who rode ev'rywhere on a trike (Vaughan)
O'er the streets of the Shires (David)
Enjoying the sound of good choirs (Gert)
In search of an Amsterdam dyke. (Mr.D.)
There once was a diva with troubles (Mark)
Perplexed that she couldn't blow bubbles (thebrick)
Fairy liquid at hand (zed)
And a round rubber band (zed)
She proceeded to blow them all doubles. (Cathy)
Update: Hand-made trackbacks to
The World Backwards,
Acerbia and
London Mark.
Wrong. I just didn't blog it where you might normally expect to find it. Heh.
Ever wondered what it might be like to be a Dalek?
Wonder no more...
(Archives are screwed, so scroll down to Wednesday, April 23, 2003: the "Master of the Universe" posting.)
Life. It's a bit of journey, isn't it?
K has taken the last couple of days off work, just to potter about doing nothing in particular. We met for lunch. He came into the deli looking relaxed and refreshed.
"Today, I've actually started looking up from my immediate surroundings. You know: noticing all the details - taking things in. That's my trouble: I'm usually too fixed on getting from A to B. I never
see anything."
"So, what you're saying is: rather than going straight from A to B all the time, you want to be able to stop off at C along the way."
"Yes! Exactly!"
"Hmm - I feel a personal growth and development tutorial coming on.
If we go from A to B via C, then we start to see. See? Look, here are the diagrams I could draw..."
"I think you've missed your calling, Mike."
...chiefly characterised by an unshakeable (and quite unearnt) feeling of fatigue, accompanied by a disconsolate edginess, a desultory vagueness, and an even lower concentration span than usual. Let's just say that I wasn't always the best person to be around. Oh dear.
Still, Thursday night was a blast and a half - although possibly the root cause of all the fatigue.
Part One: Swanking it up at
Chino Latino, which proves to be every bit as flabbergasting as it was on
our first visit. As proud as I am of this fair city, I fear that the restaurant is, at least according to the received wisdom of demographics,
too good for Nottingham. It shouldn't really be here. It's a fluke, which cannot possibly last. The two world-class chefs will surely move on, once the place is fully established. So for now, we're bloody well going to make the most of it.
Part Two: Sloshing around at @d2 with the boyz, our little group by now containing Buni, K's business partner Callvixen, and a friend of hers who turns out to be a real life
Footballer's Wife. Our very own Chardonnay Lane! Only much classier, of course. Perhaps we should call her
Viognier Boulevard instead. Viognier - a thoroughly good sport who has neither eaten raw fish nor visited a gay bar before tonight - throws herself into her new surroundings with gusto, bellowing along to the strains of the Grease Megamix with the best of us. By the end of the night, she has learnt a lot about The Ways Of The Modern Homosexual. Particularly about, um, that particular activity that some of the more adventurous amongst us like to do with their, er, hands. So that at the end of the night, when a young employee of the bar politely asks us to finish our drinks and make our way outside, she is able to inform him, with an air of some authority, that he really ought to trim his fingernails.
"Because I've heard that it's very important..."
Part Three: A good old-fashioned All Back To Ours, for the first time in living memory. As agreeably messy as it ever was, with bollocks duly being spouted until dawn.
Very mid-to-late nineties.
In stark contrast, the following four days are spent in rural seclusion. On Easter Monday, we drive all the way to Wales and back (a five hour round trip, including lunch) to look at garden furniture. Which is, I feel, a truly traditional way of spending a Bank Holiday.
Jahsonic: a labyrinthine, phenomenally detailed site which analyses and catalogues the history of dance music, with particular reference to the golden period of the late 70s and early-mid 80s. For anoraks such as myself, this is an essential resource. Want to know more about Larry Levan and the Paradise Garage? Kool Herc and Afrika Bambaataa? Leroy Burgess and Vince Montana Junior? The history of electro, with a full discography? It's all here.
Although almost impossible to navigate in any structured way, the exhaustively cross-referenced internal links allow you to surf endlessly from topic to topic - which is, in any case, much more fun. (Alternatively, you could try using the "Next" links at the top of each page.)
