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Britannia rule the waves
Oct. 21st, 2005 11:00 amMy parents, on the Poptimism pictures: "We like the one where you have a vampire in a headlock."
The Elusive Camel has been getting increasingly lifestyle ever since I've worked in Victoria, but now it's just silly. Three quid pints? Waitress service? In a pub? They're showing Withnail on the screens that don't have sport or details of the Tories' ongoing Davidcentric meltdown, and I realise it's the first time I've seen it in a while, certainly the first since I've been fully primed to regard them both as the Doctor, and the first time I've realised Marwood's suitcase contains Against Nature. The first pint's barely started before we're discussing what would happen if we were all stuck on a desert island, and whether a particular colleague would be the first one we ate, or would develop mad skillz Locke-style, and then another colleague asks "Have you heard of a band called the Fatima Mansions?", and on the whole things go quite well, though I seem to be a rare enthusiast for immortality - my assertion that I could happily outlive the rest of the species by at least 150 years just catching up with my reading seems to scare people. I leave the pub at a sensible hour, but it's right next to the big Sainsbury's - can you guess what went wrong next? At home I make another attempt at watching House; initially I get the ads with Bill Nighy as a cooker, but when it comes back it starts well, as he tells a couple their comatose son is dead just to get their attention. Alas! Everyone then starts Opening Up and I have to turn over before I vomit. Newsnight has an item on the NQD rockers who so impressed![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
verlaine and miss_newham recently, but is otherwise dull, so I grab the Black Books DVD. Suddenly, I understand you hundred icon types so much better; there are times, rare though they may be, when I'd really be able to put Manny saying "just one copper, trying to make a difference" to good use.
Got the opening hours for my GP from the NHS site yesterday, tried ringing them, as you do. The number diverts to an after-hours service. I try again. It diverts again. The after-hours service confirm that yes, the surgery should be open. They take my number. Someone rings back. They go away again. The surgery rings back, acting like I'm senile for thinking they were open - I mention the website to the woman who calls but I get the impression she doesn't even know what one is. Now, this is annoying, but I'm only ringing to get more ventolin. Imagine if you were ringing them with mind problems and found yourselves in these shifting sands - it'd hardly help you feel you still had a grasp, would it?
Right then, Fan Club tonight (where I shall make an effort not to be too Trafalgar Day at Val) and Club Mental tomorrow - who's with me?
The Elusive Camel has been getting increasingly lifestyle ever since I've worked in Victoria, but now it's just silly. Three quid pints? Waitress service? In a pub? They're showing Withnail on the screens that don't have sport or details of the Tories' ongoing Davidcentric meltdown, and I realise it's the first time I've seen it in a while, certainly the first since I've been fully primed to regard them both as the Doctor, and the first time I've realised Marwood's suitcase contains Against Nature. The first pint's barely started before we're discussing what would happen if we were all stuck on a desert island, and whether a particular colleague would be the first one we ate, or would develop mad skillz Locke-style, and then another colleague asks "Have you heard of a band called the Fatima Mansions?", and on the whole things go quite well, though I seem to be a rare enthusiast for immortality - my assertion that I could happily outlive the rest of the species by at least 150 years just catching up with my reading seems to scare people. I leave the pub at a sensible hour, but it's right next to the big Sainsbury's - can you guess what went wrong next? At home I make another attempt at watching House; initially I get the ads with Bill Nighy as a cooker, but when it comes back it starts well, as he tells a couple their comatose son is dead just to get their attention. Alas! Everyone then starts Opening Up and I have to turn over before I vomit. Newsnight has an item on the NQD rockers who so impressed
verlaine and miss_newham recently, but is otherwise dull, so I grab the Black Books DVD. Suddenly, I understand you hundred icon types so much better; there are times, rare though they may be, when I'd really be able to put Manny saying "just one copper, trying to make a difference" to good use. Got the opening hours for my GP from the NHS site yesterday, tried ringing them, as you do. The number diverts to an after-hours service. I try again. It diverts again. The after-hours service confirm that yes, the surgery should be open. They take my number. Someone rings back. They go away again. The surgery rings back, acting like I'm senile for thinking they were open - I mention the website to the woman who calls but I get the impression she doesn't even know what one is. Now, this is annoying, but I'm only ringing to get more ventolin. Imagine if you were ringing them with mind problems and found yourselves in these shifting sands - it'd hardly help you feel you still had a grasp, would it?
Right then, Fan Club tonight (where I shall make an effort not to be too Trafalgar Day at Val) and Club Mental tomorrow - who's with me?
