For no reason I can imagine except that my life has been deprived of it so far, a DVD of the movie Gladiator has just shown up in my mailbox, purchased from Amazon on my behalf by a name I do not recognize with no further contact details.
The only person who’s really been outraged by the fact that I haven’t yet been exposed to the buff and beefy (instead of just puffy) version of Russell Crowe is a gay man whose name is definitely not the one on the receipt.
Oh well, the timing couldn’t be better as I will be taking it easy today as I was up till all hours last night with the Shebeen Club drinking: one Strongbow (why do I do this? why do I inventory it?), two and a half glasses of wine which Lydia bought, one Highland Park 12 year old whiskey which I bought (and bought Lydia one, leaving me effectively penniless till the paypal hits the bank around Friday) and then ran into an old friend on the way home who waylaid me for another two (or was it three?) pints of Dead Frog Nut Brown Ale at the ‘Ho.
You know? The ‘Ho? It doesn’t blow!
A friend of mine got taken to the Ivanhoe for her first legal beer on her birthday. I don’t know how many she had, nor does she because she had that many. How many? So many she passed out and woke up around three in the morning, sitting in a corner with her purse in her lap and a blanket thrown over her. Nothing was missing, either.