The slave begins by demanding justice and ends wanting to wear a crown

"American influence began in 1822, when the America Colonisation Society bought land on the African coast as a settlement for emancipated slaves. The colony was named Liberia, and the capital Monrovia, after the US president, James Monroe. It declared independence in 1847. Citizenchip was denied to Liberia's indigenous population and the emancipated slaves themselves soon began to enslave local tribespeople."
-Guardian magazine, 9/8/2003

Diverse matters including a wake-up call both literal and metaphorical

serious_k et al's housewarming continued the recent trend for housewarmings to rock; it may have been less orgiastic that the Copenhagen Street Massacre but nikkei's p0rn commentary track was a valiant effort to change that. I should perhaps have avoided the Spiritus, though. It sounds like an occult threat for a sound reason.
Oh, and I caused the jailbait to get overexcited and bounce up and down on the bed. But not like that.
On Saturday I was exiled once more from the House Beautiful by council-imposed renovations; between this and the Islington Bar issues, I increasingly feel that my beloved Libraries Department should lead a coup and take over the rest of Islington Council, possibly appointing Pippa's breasts Queen. In the local charity shop I found recent Dickon enthusiasm The Beetle, by Richard Marsh, for a mere 50p. Back of the net! However, having taken it to the park I found an actual beetle within, which alarmed me too much to read it just yet. Not that I don't like beetles, you understand, but I suspect I won't like the eponymous Beetle.
In the afternoon and evening it was culturedgoat's birthday at the Famous COCK! In attendance: all the young ladies in the world. Well done Tim. Also all the psychobillies in the world because the Meteors were playing over the road, so for once Simon only had the pub's second horniest hair. All jolly good fun, however, late on in the piece I realised I was actually completely pissed and should probably depart. Started walking home...
...And next thing I know, I am being woken from my slumber against a wall by an ambulance crew.
Yes. Oh dear.
I didn't drink on Sunday, either in the park with the newly evolved Miss Raichu (where we saw a man walking a wilful ferret, and dodged from shadow to shadow as England burnt) or at drasticsturgeon's birthday pizza and afterparty. And still had a lovely time. I think there should be more of this sort of behaviour.

You know how blogging was meant to be about actual news?

Outside the window, as in, 10 feet from me, a swarthy fellow has been grabbed by about 15 police. With submachineguns, bulletproof vests and a sniffer dog. His car boot has been opened and, though it appears only to contain Ikea purchases, the police are taking no chances. The sniffer dog just had a great time sniffing the guy's suitcase. Posting now so if I do get blown up you know why. Ah, they seem only to be booking him for parking on a red route. Anticlimax.