The anniversary of the bombings. The tube was fairly empty this morning. I don't think there was anyone in London who didn't think of the 52 people who were murdered a year ago as they went to work.
Friday thank God. During the middle of the day it became clear that me and The Gnome wouldn't have to work through the weekend on our incontinence pitch, which would naturally have badly peed us off. Still, we did spend time discussing what people would think if they spotted two middle aged blokes running at high speed through the agency's revolving door while screaming.
Again no time for swims or lunch today. But I was sustained by the idea that suddenly it was a real Friday and a Friday in which I would go out with Matty boy and T and First Matie for a drink. And during the day cold beers kaleidoscoped in my mind like something in Homer Simpson's brain.
An excellent evening out. We all met up outside the Blue Anchor and we sat by the river, where the four of us were briefly joined by Craig. We then crossed the river to the Bridge restaurant where I dittoed Kate's order and ate a steak, and we drank chilled and exotic pink wines. I have most splendid friends.
Home on the late Brighton train. Decided to sit in first class (naturally without paying) next to an aspiring soul singer. We had a very funny chat. And he handed me a copy of his CD as he left, which I have yet to listen to.
Below Matty and T, Taranjit, and First Matie.
Friday thank God. During the middle of the day it became clear that me and The Gnome wouldn't have to work through the weekend on our incontinence pitch, which would naturally have badly peed us off. Still, we did spend time discussing what people would think if they spotted two middle aged blokes running at high speed through the agency's revolving door while screaming.
Again no time for swims or lunch today. But I was sustained by the idea that suddenly it was a real Friday and a Friday in which I would go out with Matty boy and T and First Matie for a drink. And during the day cold beers kaleidoscoped in my mind like something in Homer Simpson's brain.
An excellent evening out. We all met up outside the Blue Anchor and we sat by the river, where the four of us were briefly joined by Craig. We then crossed the river to the Bridge restaurant where I dittoed Kate's order and ate a steak, and we drank chilled and exotic pink wines. I have most splendid friends.
Home on the late Brighton train. Decided to sit in first class (naturally without paying) next to an aspiring soul singer. We had a very funny chat. And he handed me a copy of his CD as he left, which I have yet to listen to.
Below Matty and T, Taranjit, and First Matie.
Comments