Tonight it is showdown time with the beasties we have "Wasp Nest Destroyer Foam" it will be put along the bargebord, a little treat for them to take home. A lovely warm summers evening here in SN4 just right for sitting out with a glass of wine.
good evening everyone. as people who frequent orangeMC will have realised, I am now settled in québec (finally) so you can expect me on here a little more.
and the weather, today started out quite warm here in QC but it quickly went cold when I was sat on a hill watching a 'football' game. more clothes were definitely needed. and I have a horrible feeling this is that cold that everyone here keeps on telling me about. oh dear.
[nights] My sister lives about 60 miles from you. Come the Christmas and New Year party season, she can keep bags of ice for cocktails outside the kitchen door for two weeks without them defrosting. One year, her daughters built themselves a skating rink on the drive (battens, polythene sheeting and several hundred gallons of water) which lasted for three months... I'd send out for thermal socks if I was you.
[Darren] No, since you have a Mr A. If you don't want to go back and feel like donating anything to another worthy clan member (ahem), I'm sure I could think of a couple of potential beneficiaries... (grovel ends)
Last weekend was the celebrity wedding of the year with squillions being paid for the exclusive pictures, to whet your appetite here is the dress and here, are Peter and Kate cutting the cake
[thermals] what, you think my mother let me leave Stanstead without thermal socks? I (possibly incorrectly) think I'm ready for whatever winter can throw at me, including a clause in my housing contract saying it's my responsibility to keep the balcony free of snow. it's sort of hard to contemplate sat on my balcony in a pleasant warm breeze on a pleasant evening in québec, smoking godawful canadian cigarettes. I miss L&B.
(Dujon) How dare you! I'm a face man also but when presented with these absurdly compressed mountains of flesh one cannot but notice them. But in terms of allure they are neither necessary nor sufficient.
Fair dos, Rosie. Sorry, Inkspot. I thought, like the plastic of penelope, it was just an image until, upon opening my morning paper, there was one of the photographs purporting to be a reproduction from a certain well know celebrity's wedding. Ruddy 'eck. I'll put my glass eye back in now.
We had a weekend in Luxembourg city a few years ago - probably about long enough. Very pleasant, good food (especially patisserie), terrific situation.
[Rosie] So did I. Wasn't there a DJ with Motor Neurone Disease whose wife was his sidekick on his evening show? And, for what it's worth, I once worked for a guy who had been a skipper on Radio Caroline.
Went to a conference there three years or so ago. It's, er, really small. They run bus tours of the whole country that leave the main square at noon, and are back by 3.30pm. Highlight of the trip? I bunked off the main conference dinner to go to a performance of a Handel opera at the Conservatoire (on the other side of town from Euroville, and so about 30 minutes walk ...). A stunning performance space - better than any I can think of in London of its size (about the capacity of the Barbican concert hall, I reckon). The piece was commissioned from Handel for a private occasion, and had never been performed since. A very, very fine performance it was too - only three singers IIRC, so very exposed, and they all coped and performed superbly. Excuse the slippage into anecdotage ... * wanders off, humming to self *
(pen) Don't remember that. There were no women on RL when I listened (about 1957-63). It was people like Sam Costa and Jack Jackson. I dusted off my old singles the other day and played some Duane Eddy, Fats Domino and Buddy Holly stuff. A nice lowbrow, nostalgic relaxation.
[Rosie] Wuld've been about 1973 when I listened. Eek. Now, Fats Domino is one of my favourites... excellent driving music! I had my worst 'Senior Moment' to date this morning. I now have a head full of deodorant rather than hair spray.
[Rosie]Well, I'm frankly offended if no-one has noticed my previous presence or recent absence - I haven't popped in much over the holiday, but this is my main procrastination site when I'm meant to be working at university. I missed all the bad puns.[Wol and Rosie]I did shorten my screenname from 'Knobbly Knees' because I couldn't be bothered to keep typing it. But, no I don't think they are really.
wrong products first thing in the morning are always a problem. I tried to brush my teeth with my hosuemate's hair gel once. I don't even USE the damn stuff, my hair is LONG, why did I even pick it up?
Having only just discovered the joys of mc5 I noticed last night I appear to share my handle with another. I apologise wholeheartedly, and shall henceforth submit as Pooksadaisy.
(Simons Mith) The irony is,toothpaste gives me more style and hold than any other hair product.
(Projoy) It was quite an old post on ...so help me god, but it's no great shakes to modify my eke-name. On a lighter note however, as I write this the rain is hammering on my window and the river levels are rising, which means that tomorrow I'll go kayaking instead of trawling through old MC games.
(Rosie) It's funny you should say that. Many is the time, when gambolling over the wind swept fells or careening down a grade three Lakeland river,that I've dreamed of rolling up my flat cap, selling the whippet and moving to Orpington.
Welcome, Pooksad. I admire your pastime (there's a white water rapid place just down the road from me) although I've never understood the fun to be found in getting oneself withchered.
[Chalky] According to wah wah wah dot myjellybean.com/dream/paget.html, "If your teeth fell out or you spit them out, you are anxious about money." Were they grey and rotten? Health problems. Loose? Untrustworthy friends. Broken and worn down? Relationship problems.
My recurring nightmare involves wandering around an empty house trying all the doors which are locked, but when I get to the last door I know it's unlocked but I'm afraid to open it. I have this dream a couple of times a year.
I'm usually trussed up in a pink tutu amongst a troupe of ballet dancers in perfect step, trying desperately to keep up, but, to the amusement of the audience, always a few steps behind :-)
One I used to have occasionally was about football. I was running down the right wing on to a pass but could never, ever, EVER quite reach it, and it all happened in slow motion. And why the right wing? I could no more cross a ball with my right foot than I could speak fluent Basque. It was for standing on. Not a very good footballer.