“The difference between sex you pay for and sex for free is that sex for free always costs more”
“I may not have love, but at least I have a chocolate factory”
-lotta, sunday evening in Casa. Drew and I went out for food about 5:30pm on Sunday, ended up in the King’s Arms in the slow-setting sun. Lotta sat in the spare seat and we got to talking. She’s a pretty successful manager at kraft foods, here for meetings at the chocolate factory, and recently unhappified by her ex, a colleague. The other great quote from her on the life / work balance was “If you’ve got to be unhappy, you might as well be unhappy in a company car”. At about 8pm she announced she was hungry so we broke camp and struck out for Casa, some 10 metres away and up some stairs. Casa had some acoustic musicians playing, including Dave MacNamara who has been mentioned more than once in :here (York’s free-est magazine). Dave really was as good as the pundits claim, and the other artists weren’t so shoddy themselves. Best home-grown entertainment I’ve seen in york I think. Net result: one excellent evening, one mild hangover, and I now have somewhere to crash in Stockholm should I feel the urge to visit!
Today I didn’t buy an MG
I am officially proud of myself (unofficially gutted) for recently not buying a gorgeous 1967 MGBT to pose in. It was £3850 and in near-mint condition. (List price for a ‘good’ condition car is £6000) it would have been a wonderful thing to own if I had a garage, but I don’t. And I have yet to find a reasonably-priced property, with or without a garage. Because of this it would have (1) rotted away in no time, and (2) had to be my main car, becoming somewhat inconvenient for carrying passengers or equipment or going long distance… ho hum. I’ll stick to my heap-a-spit diesel escort for now :-(
Partying till I drop (old man stylee)
Have been overdoing it somewhat lately - last weekend was about 5-7 whiskies instead of an evening meal on Friday, with a 3am finish, followed by a larger quantity on saturday, and a shamefully unabashed visit to ‘ziggys’ on account of the best place to dance in town shutting at regular pub times, so having to go to what was a very bad second place. Night of ‘experimental electronica’ was cool, not as good as some other nights… one thing that was nearly a treat was Blue Monday on both turntables which woulda been excellent had it not been rendered undanceable due to the DJ not being quite up to it. I stopped dancing and gave the DJ a raised eyebrow. His mate said ‘do you have any idea how hard that is?’ well, I do have a faint idea how hard it is, but the point is, the DJ didn’t seem to know how hard it was cos otherwise he would have practised more. Duh. Oh well, you take the rough with the smooth when you are looking for something a bit different. I did the old “whoops, there go my inhibitions” thing on the dancefloor despite there only being about 8 ppl on it, and my ego took a huge boost when someone 2/3 my age asked me if I went to school with her…
Getting to Knoooow, yooou, getting to know aaaall abooout you…
I lost the back wheels on a front wheel drive car for the first time ever. I’m used to sliding the front on wet roundabouts from my mini-driving days but I didn’t think I was pushing it that hard. It was one of those infamous first-wet-days-after-a-hot-spell, when the oily deposits have been built up, then brought to the surface by the rain. Hit the empty roundabout braking slightly, slightly off line due to a big piece of bus-lane in the middle of the entry road. Got to the tightest part of the turn and the front wheels slid. I thought that was a bit unexpected, but experience kicked in and I backed off the controls to let the speed drop and the wheels get a grip again. Then the back started to drift out. I can distinctly remember an incredulous inner voice saying “It’s the back?!” and beginning to wonder how the hell that was happening. As I got to “the”, the front wheels found their purchase and the back began a rather slick overtaking manoeuvre. So I start winching the wheel into opposite lock, but it’s too late, the back has taken the initiative and I am now only able to admire the council’s plantings on the central reservation as the car proceeds, perfectly in the right direction, but sideways. As I hit 180 degrees, the front wheels’ position formerly know as opposite-lock, now encourages the car to continue spinning. I actually briefly consider giving it a boot to go for the full 360 but I am feeling a bit close to the kerbs at this point, so I dip the clutch and brake gently to eventually come to rest parked in the correct exit road, facing the kerb, with the car in reverse and the wheels in the right place to finish the manoevre. So I let out the clutch and continue on my way. It’s a funny mix of being glad/hopeful that there were no witnesses and wishing there had a least been a man walking a dog nearby so I could get out and go “did you see that!!”. Ho hum. This probably has bearing on whether or not I ought to buy a high-powered sports car…