(no subject)
Jun. 28th, 2003 04:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liadnanAnother Saturday, another hangover...
I didn't make it to Wimbledon yesterday. Frankly, I woke up just before 9, when my experience tells me one needs to be in the queue by 9, and said fuckit. So instead I cleaned the flat, properly. Haven't finished yet, but it's no longer on the verge of going critical.
Then to Canary Wharf to meet Alan, Adele, Rob and Steph, and off to the hospital another friend of ours is in. Finally back to Primrose Hill, to Limani, and a meal where the 5 of us got through 7 bottles of retsina. Drinking with Rob and Alan is somewhat akin to pouring bottles of water into the Sahara. Quite cheap though.
The Campbell row seems to be going ballistic. I really think he's lost his notorious grip. See this story in The Times. And while we're on the subject, some of you, particularly Rparvaaz may appreciate this comment by Ben MacIntyre (those links probably won't always work, The Times has an irritating habit of changing links to articles). MacIntyre finds parallels between Napier's taking of Sind and the recent wars, to summarise it.
Since I'm in the business of handing out links, Tolkien fans should take a look at my fellow Culturnik (and Berkeley economics professor) Brad deLong's take on what happened when Gandalf reported back after the Balrog deaded him, here, or as a livejournal RSS feed here.
Enough linksplurging. Onto the important things: I have a really bad hangover. And K reckons my hair is "a bit too short". Ho hum. I am going to go drown my sorrows in the National Gallery. Laters.
(PS, does anyone but me find it immensely irritating that 9 out of 10 public fountains (&c) in London don't work.)
I didn't make it to Wimbledon yesterday. Frankly, I woke up just before 9, when my experience tells me one needs to be in the queue by 9, and said fuckit. So instead I cleaned the flat, properly. Haven't finished yet, but it's no longer on the verge of going critical.
Then to Canary Wharf to meet Alan, Adele, Rob and Steph, and off to the hospital another friend of ours is in. Finally back to Primrose Hill, to Limani, and a meal where the 5 of us got through 7 bottles of retsina. Drinking with Rob and Alan is somewhat akin to pouring bottles of water into the Sahara. Quite cheap though.
The Campbell row seems to be going ballistic. I really think he's lost his notorious grip. See this story in The Times. And while we're on the subject, some of you, particularly Rparvaaz may appreciate this comment by Ben MacIntyre (those links probably won't always work, The Times has an irritating habit of changing links to articles). MacIntyre finds parallels between Napier's taking of Sind and the recent wars, to summarise it.
Since I'm in the business of handing out links, Tolkien fans should take a look at my fellow Culturnik (and Berkeley economics professor) Brad deLong's take on what happened when Gandalf reported back after the Balrog deaded him, here, or as a livejournal RSS feed here.
Enough linksplurging. Onto the important things: I have a really bad hangover. And K reckons my hair is "a bit too short". Ho hum. I am going to go drown my sorrows in the National Gallery. Laters.
(PS, does anyone but me find it immensely irritating that 9 out of 10 public fountains (&c) in London don't work.)
