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Showing posts from February, 2010

Zim's great Monopoly spirit

Isn't it great when a country prints money especially so you can play a board game that you previously lost all the pieces for - so thoughtful! Lucky

Why hiring an interpreter is a good idea, unless you want something this awesome!

The other day I was hanging out in the north of London, dining on a recovery roti when this came into my life... 100 g of phallic fun Lucky

A little afternoon delight

Sometimes something really small gives you a thrill. Makes you want to grin ridiculously while elevating you to the clouds you feel you're walking on. It can last for a moment or ten - and always takes you to that happy place. Yesterday I had that moment. Stepping into Trafalgar Square the first few snow flakes began to fall. Light enough to enjoy a swirling twirl in the air before landing on my coat and melting. The excitement of the anticipated, the enjoyment of the present. Filling you up with child-like delight... except this time with a beer. Lucky

St. James

Fabulous: if you don't mind being the only on at the beach in a costume and adorned with your front teeth. St. James is no Llundudno - kids run past, decorating you with the sand from their feet and babies cry ALOT. The two old women sitting under their umbrella, debate whether their sweets are sour or not. But the tidal pool is great and the beach not too big, so you can soak while keeping a close eye on your bags. Aesthetically it's quite quaint. Floating in the tidal pool, crashing waves and shrieking children in the background - multicoloured huts face the sea, weathered by the sand and wind and stickied by many ice-creamed fingers. The women sit cackling on the wall of the pool, rocking back and forth with the waves. Sometimes their bodies succumb to the push and pull of the ocean, other times just their tummies. The latest see-through purple and green plastic hat imports fashioned. Stumbling, far from eloquently, and not because of the sand, dressed in blue, a lady makes

Sambuca & Sunsets

If I talk about Sambuca, the first thing that comes to mind is a little visit to Borruso’s (then I’m distracted briefly by the awesome Borruso’s Special pizza – a moment...) Shots in wine glasses, swirling, lighting and the hilariality (new word) of the new shape your breast / tummy / bum becomes, varying on your choice of Samboobca / Samtumca / Sambumca. Truth be told I’ve never done one myself, but on others they look great. This last weekend also involved Sambuca. Specifically Friday night, 5 or 6 girls, a lot of juicy conversation, nominations and beer pong with life-jackets. There was even a drive-by; perhaps I should explain: we were in Betty’s Bay and felt the need to head out and check out the local night-life at King Arthur’s genuine replica – built using almost the same bricks, and definitely the same style – Camelot. The Sambuca was a gift, given with the understanding that the bottle would be finished over the weekend. We smashed it on the Friday – it was awe

October – February: it happens!

Once in a blue moon – kind of like how sometimes February has more days some years and less in others – the yearly calendar skips a couple of months. The year can start off totally normally – you won’t suspect a thing – and then BOOM! September is just having a little seasonal change, October rolls around (the shops like you to start thinking about Xmas) and then all of a sudden it’s February, you’re in another country working fervently on your tan cause at the end of the week you’re heading back to the UK! True story. Lucky