Today is Perseus’s birthday, or Micheal to you and me. He was a Demi God responsible for slaying the Medusa, so if I don’t see him today it will be because once more he will be wedded to his bathroom floor, hanging desperately to the heated towel rail, and he has failed to defeat the demon alcohol.
STOP PRESS – Michael has texted me, he has made it into his bed, but the hangover is not leaving him. Never stare into the bottom of a glass Michael, it will turn you stone, or at least deposit them into your kidneys.
On Monday night, the six of us, a not entirely male group were out celebrating another friend’s birthday, when we were politely ushered out of a very expensive Central London restaurant.
No, thankfully not one of my regular haunts. Phew.
It was handled very deftly. We had been hushed several times by the tables around us, after a huge volume of wine, after one of our party had consumed an entire Porterhouse Steak for two on his own; we opted for more alcohol elsewhere. We were thanked gracefully and told if we had wanted coffee, that we would not have been served, and asked to leave anyway. Strange how they kept us there long enough to pay a six figure bill for alcohol. Oh well, “Flaming Ferraris” somewhere else.
We had not been rowdy or drunk; at that point, but we had been laughing, and laughing and laughing and it obviously didn’t fit with the slightly fusty atmosphere. And no I didn’t tuck the tablecloth into my collar and walk off, although I was tempted.
Thank you Vash for entertaining us later, your hospitality like the glasses runneth over.
I have been in the manner of Seneca, mulling over the concept of Love, and trying to practice stoicism. In this way, I will become impervious to misfortune, why, oh why does it keep happening to me over and over and over again? As I say to my friends, get over it!
The Italians and I love them dearly, are probably the world’s greatest romantics and lovers? They have two expressions to describe your feelings for your loved one, “ti voglio bene” and “ti amo”.Ti voglio bene means “I love you”, but doesn’t have the passion of ti amo. We on the other hand just say “I love you”. So as always in Italy, you’re never quite sure where you stand. I imagine “Dear Silvio” is incapable of saying any of the above with any sincerity.
So with Azis, is tvb or ti amo? I mean, I love his look, his music, but Azis himself, I just don’t know. Could I love him? Could he love me? The answer is probably no, I think we may be worlds apart, but from next year he will be free to come here when he wants. Now I must find somewhere to hide before he gets here. He’s Bulgarian you know, and you want to keep them out? Why?
And those of you who took part in Movember, check the photo below, and ask yourself can I do better next year?
Apparently love lifts us up where we belong. Damn am I still stuck at the Arts Theatre Bar? Emi I promise you that if you are ever tempted to come out dancing with us again, we’ll all go somewhere where they play music you know…But not Lady Gaga.
Tony and I recently went to see Gravity. Is he a man not to be trusted? Once again he omitted to tell me it was in 3D for fear that I would flat earth refuse.
I do have a friend whose wife is an astronaut, and I’m interested to know if he is constantly looking up to her?
However, *****Spoiler Alert***** I did learn one thing from the film, never ever go into space with George Gloomy, as Neil calls him. After Solaris and now Gravity, I couldn’t see myself surviving, even if I had a bottom like Sandra Bullock, which of course I do. Azis, stop staring.
Last night I shared a taxi with a political friend (nay, Tory activist friend) of mine. He asked me about Mandy. Now, I’m starting to worry and I haven’t had a drink yet. Mandy is a name that raises its head many times in my past. But, apparently according to legend and vile rumour, so does any other woman’s name you care to mention, and yes of course Azis.
Does he mean “I’m Mandy Fly me” or Barry Manilow’s “Mandy”? Dear Barry played at a wedding of some friends of mine recently, he was a huge success. I’ve had my seasons in the sun! Yes, I know that was Terry Jacks, but how could I get that through the spam filters, Captain Pugwash?
But, I worked out it was an entirely different Mandy, and it put me to thinking, where is the great “Peter Mandelson’ now? Was he previously a star of the newsletters, and currently a recluse? Just for how long? I like Peter, he is not how he is portrayed.
Today I’ve upset Neil’s karma! All I did was send him a parcel with Ram’s Horns in it. I must admit that when I stuck them to my head I reminded myself that I looked like Tim Curry in Legend and Emi kept crossing herself and tapping the nearest piece of wood for about an hour because she was so scared that I’d turned myself into the devil…. That fact that I was holding my breath and turning purple had nothing to do with it. I was wearing Adam’s mask, who would know?
Apparently Adam not only wears the mask in bed, but also when driving in heavy traffic. I don’t know how the two are related, but I’ll be interested in the officers comment when he pulls him over and asks him to explain his outfit. Adam, who is all man, does not have the stature of a WWF wrestler.
And one for the ladies…Awwwww
Emi stop hiccupping I can’t concentrate, and I’m trying to write the newsletter.
Joke, joke, it’s a joke. Get a grip of yourselves. No, on second thoughts don’t. Ewwwww, let’s not go there!
As Petri said to me the other morning over breakfast, 50 years of Dr Who, who’d have thought it?
Can I come out from behind the sofa now? I can feel my brother Paul beside and he’s saying, “Is it the Cybermen, I hate the Cybermen?”
Copyright © 2013 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.