There is the additional worry that if this broom handle pounding is performed that you will be providing a readily accessible spiked club with which one might be, how shall I put it, persuaded of the error of one's ways by an irate spouse, partner, or owner of said hardwood floor, so maybe we should just be content with the one hat after all.
Double-glazing salesperson: "I just want to ask you - if you could have any room in your house double-glazed for free, which would it be?
Self: "None of them, but thanks for calling." [Click]
Financial services salesperson: "Do you have a couple of minutes to take part in a customer survey?
Self: "No, but thanks for calling." [Click]
Door to door religious salesperson: "Can I interest you in the word of the Lord?
Self: "No, but thanks for stopping by." [Click]
I find that the little gesture of politeness catches them momentarily off their guard and enables you to put the phone down or close the door with a clear conscience and without leaving an opportunity for comeback.
Meanwhile, I wish the person calling the phone in the next office would get used to the idea there's nobody there...
However, he lacked (1) the same middle name as me, and more importantly (2) the ability to learn something such as Chopin's Polonaise in A flat in less than a week, be able to hack the second half of Rachmaninov's cello sonata in four days or - as happened today - when accompanying a baroque-music oboe class in which the student was playing on a modern instrument and the teacher on a Baroque instrument which was tuned a semitone flatter - to sight-read the same piece both in the original A minor and transposed into A flat minor, switching between them every two minutes depending on which one of the two was playing which instrument at the time.
Which is why I make a reasonably survivable living that pays the bills and mortgage working freelance at the RNCM: whereas he gave up the piano completely, went to study law, and had two houses and no mortgages within the first four years after completing his studies... *sigh*
[pen] May I assure you that my gussets are always lemon-fresh.
But what's going on here? Why was the Tag Wrestling just killed like that instead of having another round? Why are other games that should have been killed twenty years ago still limping on with festering wounds and a slightly disgusting smell? Why do I bother?
It's actually quite interesting.
Does anyone fancy revisiting Animal/Vegetable/Mineral/Abstract?
(It also helps if you kill off everyone who actively opposes the sort of thing you like.)
It became fashionable as a jazz instrument in the Berlin salons of the 1920s, because of its resolutely unmelodious nature in all but the most skilled of hands (just like, say, the double bass) but mostly because it could be eaten in extremity (very much unlike, say, the double bass).
Oh well.
There you have it a colourised experimental game. If play becomes fraught it will make way for something else. Is there a point? After watching Paul Burrel eat a kangaroo’s testicle … probably not.
[The Spirit of Winter]
Bring on your frosts of spectre-grey, your frozen leaves and skies of dun! The weakening eye of day can never chill; for friendship doth not turn cold when that warm heart that beats deep within fires the furnace of goodwill. Thus shall this community seek the warmth of its homely hearth whilst the dregs of winter's spirit is humbled ...
Bah! I enjoyed that poetic exchange and would have happily crossed further swords with the 'spirit', teetering, as we were, on the brink of yet another 'Winter versus Summer Debate'.
So the follow-up disappointed somewhat, whilst bringing to mind Wot Dan Said in MCiOS a couple of weeks back [and I paraphrase] - anonymous posting by regulars is relatively harmless fun ... however, if the post is directed at a named person, perhaps it's fairer not to hide behind the cloak of anonymity?
*throws down gauntlet in the spirit of goodwill* :-)
On the weekend we went out and bought our Christmas tree. After I had put on the lights it was for the boys to hang the decorations on the tree. Francis, likes to let Owen know the benefits of being his big brother, as frequently as possible. Putting baubles on the tree he was able to put his extra height to advantage “…and another one up here, and this one can go near the top over here…”. Being the uneven handed dad I am I helped Owen put a couple at the same height to end that bit of squabbling. Which left Tom the toddler, who with a little bit of help was able to put the fairy on top and with the highest bauble. The finished tree looks wonderful.
