Saturday, May 08, 2004
My final post, I should think, before Rufus returns and coincidentally Dani arrives from good old New York.
Well, those lovely people at Asylum didn't have my umbrella. It seems that someone thought they'd get an upgrade, and good for them, for there were lost umbrellas aplenty (a common occurrence in London, I was told), but all of them shoddy and none of them mine. If anyone sees someone with an ENORMOUS black storm-umbrella with a Mercedes logo on it around London, accost them at once and confiscate the umbrella as stolen goods. It was a one-off, so any protestations must be ignored.
So much for the talk of rain to ease the doctor back into English life, let's make the transition easier. Research shows that watching Mexican television can be bad for you. Maybe being drunk is the reason for this creative piece of architecture. OK, so it's not Mexico, nor New Mexico, but almost New Mexico. Near as damn it. I've been there and a more hospitable little village of New Mexicans one could not hope to find. How can I forget (although I have until just now) sitting in the sun outside the church wherein my best friends were being married, a bagpipe player in a kilt helping me watch real cowboys on horseback chasing a raging bull through disintegrating fences a hundred yards away? You can't invent that sort of stuff.
Compare the above architecture (reminiscent of a Gaudi masterpiece combined with fairy tale castles and too much LSD or altitude) with this monstrous offering from the man who brought you dancing legs on cinemas. Welcome back to Blighty, old bean. Maybe just get on the next plane to... oooh... say Russia, where the news is always much more interesting (if curiously worded).
Well, those lovely people at Asylum didn't have my umbrella. It seems that someone thought they'd get an upgrade, and good for them, for there were lost umbrellas aplenty (a common occurrence in London, I was told), but all of them shoddy and none of them mine. If anyone sees someone with an ENORMOUS black storm-umbrella with a Mercedes logo on it around London, accost them at once and confiscate the umbrella as stolen goods. It was a one-off, so any protestations must be ignored.
So much for the talk of rain to ease the doctor back into English life, let's make the transition easier. Research shows that watching Mexican television can be bad for you. Maybe being drunk is the reason for this creative piece of architecture. OK, so it's not Mexico, nor New Mexico, but almost New Mexico. Near as damn it. I've been there and a more hospitable little village of New Mexicans one could not hope to find. How can I forget (although I have until just now) sitting in the sun outside the church wherein my best friends were being married, a bagpipe player in a kilt helping me watch real cowboys on horseback chasing a raging bull through disintegrating fences a hundred yards away? You can't invent that sort of stuff.
Compare the above architecture (reminiscent of a Gaudi masterpiece combined with fairy tale castles and too much LSD or altitude) with this monstrous offering from the man who brought you dancing legs on cinemas. Welcome back to Blighty, old bean. Maybe just get on the next plane to... oooh... say Russia, where the news is always much more interesting (if curiously worded).
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