(no subject)
Ha, I came to London, and here I am updating my journal.
What a geek.
Nah, there won't be a lot of it while I'm here, but I had some "killing time" and I was wandering around the Oxford Circus sort of area (regent street, I've just been told)... they have a shop full of shiny lovely apple macs. I'm on a rather lovelish G5 just now *mmmm envy*.
In this shop you can just update your journal and check your email on them. Or so it seems. No-one has stopped me yet.
*crosses fingers*
So yeah, I decided I was coming down here on Wednesday, and now, here am I.
Looking forward to meeting up with various lovely people in a bit. Including Caz, Sturart and (the unlinkable) Emberley. Yey.
Last night was Bright Eyes and Rilo Kiley in Leeds. Rilo Kiley were fantasmic, and Jenny is soooo pretty (I'd try plugging in my digicam here to show you, but that might be taking too many liberties).
Conor by contrast was faaaar to piiied to be on stage. *sigh*.
He just couldn't measure up to the stonking set his support act provided.
I did enjoy it, but it'd've been better if he'd been able to string a sentence together. He seemed so... *thinks* ...blaze about being there at all. Sort of... "yeah, playing a gig, but don't care".
So he lost the banter contest with Rilo Kiley too, who showed their heckle busting skills off nicely.
He and the bassist did get allll sweet together though.
On the train on the way down here I ended up chatting politics (and the Sopranos) (and Orson Welles) with a Jazz band who are touring the UK at the moment.
The band leader spoke just like Bill Cosby, enough to make a two-ish hour train journey fly by.
In other news... I'm sure you all know about these new stamps. Buuuut, I think there's a whole other story here.
In the right hand stamp, doesn't it look to you like Charles is being stabbed?
I'm guessing that ornate dagger with a gold handle is being held not by him, but by some deadly assassin in the employ of his mother.
And that's not laughter on his royal face, it's paid. Sheer pain.
Still, some things are worse than death.
Lucky escape, methinks.
Right then, I'm going to bimble around London some more.
What a geek.
Nah, there won't be a lot of it while I'm here, but I had some "killing time" and I was wandering around the Oxford Circus sort of area (regent street, I've just been told)... they have a shop full of shiny lovely apple macs. I'm on a rather lovelish G5 just now *mmmm envy*.
In this shop you can just update your journal and check your email on them. Or so it seems. No-one has stopped me yet.
*crosses fingers*
So yeah, I decided I was coming down here on Wednesday, and now, here am I.
Looking forward to meeting up with various lovely people in a bit. Including Caz, Sturart and (the unlinkable) Emberley. Yey.
Last night was Bright Eyes and Rilo Kiley in Leeds. Rilo Kiley were fantasmic, and Jenny is soooo pretty (I'd try plugging in my digicam here to show you, but that might be taking too many liberties).
Conor by contrast was faaaar to piiied to be on stage. *sigh*.
He just couldn't measure up to the stonking set his support act provided.
I did enjoy it, but it'd've been better if he'd been able to string a sentence together. He seemed so... *thinks* ...blaze about being there at all. Sort of... "yeah, playing a gig, but don't care".
So he lost the banter contest with Rilo Kiley too, who showed their heckle busting skills off nicely.
He and the bassist did get allll sweet together though.
On the train on the way down here I ended up chatting politics (and the Sopranos) (and Orson Welles) with a Jazz band who are touring the UK at the moment.
The band leader spoke just like Bill Cosby, enough to make a two-ish hour train journey fly by.
In other news... I'm sure you all know about these new stamps. Buuuut, I think there's a whole other story here.
In the right hand stamp, doesn't it look to you like Charles is being stabbed?
I'm guessing that ornate dagger with a gold handle is being held not by him, but by some deadly assassin in the employ of his mother.
And that's not laughter on his royal face, it's paid. Sheer pain.
Still, some things are worse than death.
Lucky escape, methinks.
Right then, I'm going to bimble around London some more.