Ant

*enters in a more humdrum manner than has become usual: walking* *seats self by open window and refreshes self in gentle breeze* Ahhhhh, that's better.

I couldn't agree more about that odd Amazing Grace shop. Something about it just strikes me as not quite right. But again I must stress there's no evidence of anything actually dodgy going on. This is just a personal impression of the place. I'd love for this end (my end) of LL to be tarted up a bit. The DIY place is great, though, and the lighting shop is pretty good too. Dulwich Grocers and Zin Oriental look fit for the chop, and I've little love for the William Hill. (How many does ED need, anyway?)

"Delicate pretentious confections - a bit like me!" DM, you have no idea how much that made me laugh. Thank you. :)

Gah! Wifebeater! It'll send me heeeeed all wrooooong!

*recognises a certain truth: that beer is the answer* *wonders whether it is also the question* *confuses self* *fancies a pint*

*cries; grows*

*ripples gently*

A desparate man joins the French foreign legion, as desparate men are sometimes wont to do, and before long finds himself posted to a distant fort in the remote Sahel. There is little but arid scrubland for miles in every direction, upon which the sun beats down mercilessly day after day, week after week. At first he his satisfied with his new existence. He joined the legion to forget a woman and escape her husband, among other things, and finds the surroundings well suited to clearing his mind and purifying his soul. He throws himself into his duties. The marches. The drill practice. The training in unarmed combat. And so it goes from month to month, and with each passing month his body grows stronger and his past life grows a little less distinct in his memory. One day, woken early by the bugler blowing reveille as he is every day and has been now for almost a year, he steps out onto the parade ground to find the world a changed place. The monsoon has arrived, and with it a strange mood among his comrades. They are frenetic, enlivened... and he recognises it withim himself too. He feels restless. He feels - he hardly realises at first, it's been so long - he feels the need of a woman. Later that day, outside the mess hall, he speaks to a comrade about it, and asks what the other legionnaires do to cope. 'It's simple; just use one of the camels,' his comrade says. Well, our desparate man is not that desparate. Or at least that is what he tells himself. But as the days of unbroken rain go by he finds himself unable to shake the idea from his mind. And finally, one night, kept awake by the constant beating of the rain on his window, he can bear it no more. He resolves to do the thing and get it over with quickly. He creeps from his bunk out into the night; he finds a camel and places a box of bullets behind it to use as a step. It's not high enough. He needs more boxes. Cursing under his breath he breaks into the store and drags two more boxes back to the camel. He builds up the step and takes his position. He drops his trousers, closes his eyes and thinks of the woman he left behind... 'Legionnaire! What are you doing to that beast?' shouts a voice from the darkness. A man steps out from the shadows, rain spilling from his K?pi. It is the commanding officer! Flustered, the legionnaire explains as best he can, while trying to disentangle himself from the camel and pull his trousers up, how the monsoon had stirred things up within him, and what his comrades had told him: use a camel. 'Yes, you imbecile! Use a camel... to ride to the nearest brothel. It's only tenty minutes away.'

*slithers into being from a single point in space but somehow ends up as a puddle* *lacks the energy to revert to normal physical form* meh

I'll just repeat that my neighbours have offered to set up and host a website to co-ordinate any campaign. I can do any evening next week apart from Monday. Week after is not quite as good.

Right then, branching out somewhat... I do love a bit of Gainsbourg. Je suis venu te dir'que je m'en vais et tes larmes n'y pourront rien changer comm'dit si bien Verlaine "au vent mauvais" je suis venu te dir'que je m'en vais tu t'souviens des jours anciens et tu pleures tu suffoques, tu bl?mis ? pr?sent qu'a sonn? l'heure des adieux ? jamais oui je suis au regret d'te dir'que je m'en vais oui je t'aimais, oui, mais- Dark stuff, but so good. :) Briefly, for those who don't do French: he's dumping her, callously. The cad. The bit underlined translates as something along the lines of: yes, I'm sorry to tell you that I'm off, yes, I loved you, yes, but... He sings it in a very off-hand manner, quite glib almost. Oooh, those Frenchies, eh? Scoundrels!

Great choice, Bagpuss! Was tempted to start singing that very loudly. But I didn't, cos I work in a very quiet office where people Don't Do That Sort Of Thing, and I don't want them to think I'm a weirdo.

I don't want to sound too unsympathetic, but those spaces aren't theirs; they're everyone's. Blocking them with a bin may be tempting, but it's going too far.

Any time, sweet'eart. (Imagine that in a frank butcher type voice for full effect.)

Good lord! Someone talking sense in the lounge!? There ought to be a piercing AROOOO-GA!-style siren to warn us of such things. Took me quite unawares, that did. :)

*thinks: poor Bagpuss... it's probably all those late-night choons pounding through her wall doing something to her brain*

Hard to pick the line I like most from the whole thing... a silly little song but I do like it so. HMHB strike again: Here she lies in a fleecy gown By my side in the eiderdown But she can't get a ticket to Morning Town Cause I've got restless legs Boring though this film may be Slumber still won't visit me So long as you stay next to me For I have restless legs Milky drink and Sudafed "That should sort you out" she said As I kicked myself clean out of the bed And raised my restless legs Call me a puppet. Cures I've sought All in all they've come to naught I wish it was some astronaut Who had these restless legs 4:06 and I'm wide awake Got an uncontrollable urge to take A 5-mile hike around the Ogwen lake And stretch these restless legs No sympathy from Uncle Greg Nor indeed from Auntie Meg Well Thank God I'm not Jake the Peg With an extra restless leg So come the day when I don't exist And worms are flying through the graveyard mist Don't go calling the excorcist It's just my restless legs It's just my restless legs It's just my restless legs

Be strong, Keef.

I liked Microserfs, and Generation X; the rest weren't anywhere near as good imo. A bit disappointing.

Yo no soy Batd?g. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Much like our very own DM :)

Grammar jokes!? Whatever next?

It's like that experiment with the uniforms and the electricity and the prisons and, and, and... *is a bit drunk on tokaji*

Hello Shambles, welcome back :)

ZOMG! (As they say around the internets.) I'd been meaning to investigate the Ivenhoe because of its name alone, but it seems I dodged a bullet. Would be interested to have a look at the new place.