Of beer, Purcell and cuddly orange planets
This weekend has been good. The carols at the golf club were followed by a Party. I have two Parties a year, one in December and one in June. This one was a readthrough sketch party, with much alcohol and silliness and nice people. Nice meaty hedgehogs. Cheese wot went HUM. And beer.
The highlight of the sketches we read through was That Blake's 7 Episode Wot Paul Darrow Wrote. "Man of Iron". About a non-waterproof super-robot called Al Gore. Sorry, Algor. Approached in proper silliness, with special effects including cuddly evil orange planets, Liberator swooping past a penguin, and the ARMY OF EVIL MY LITTLE PONY ROBOTS, the effect was unforgettable.
Kneel before Zod! Or the EVIL LITTLE PONY ROBOTS will get you!
I like my friends.
Some lessons to learn going forward: 36 pints of beer is a lot, even for us, and I can only just get 12 people in my house. And I get very sleepy when I'm drunk... :)
Sunday was a bit calmer. Just miss_next and I were left in the house; I went off to church (impromptu solos are a bit harder to concentrate on with a hangover) and then had to do emergency shopping. Came back, we cooked pasta, and she got reacquainted both with bits of my frock coat and Asterix books. People forget how funny Asterix is.
I dropped Sarah off at the station, then went to return the borrowed pot of hedgehogs to Mum, and took the leftovers of Nature's Harmonic Simultaneous 4-Corner Beer Cube to St. Peter's with me. What followed was a truly wonderful service; Mag and Nunc were Purcell in G minor (self as Dec alto soloist, singing what is really a high tenor part, but he's my favourite composer and my bottom Gs were working nicely), and the anthem was Darke In the bleak midwinter, with some lovely verses by Head Chorister Bruce and tenor-about-town T. The beer went down very well after that.
I'm ashamed to say I drifted off to sleep during Hogfather. No fault of the adaptation - some truly excellent touches, such as the way that they got Richard Wilson Ian Richardson (ENOBRAIN) to voice Death just so that he could say "YOU MAY THINK THAT BUT I COULDN'T POSSIBLY COMMENT"... But being the genius he is, oscarhocklee has recorded it on his PVR Cleverly (tm), such that it can be written onto a DVD which can be played in DVD players. Yay. I await a little parcel with great interest.
The one slight frustration from the weekend, apart from England's humiliation in Perth, was that the frock coat still isn't finished, though progress has been made on it and the end is in sight. I wish I didn't care about cricket quite so much as I do; cricket fandom is sometimes like being in love with someone unsuitable.
But now comes the inevitable back-to-earth, for a couple of days at least, as I sift through 90 emails and urgent jobs. Still, Christmas is beckoning, mum is in better shape than expected, and there are a couple of parties I intend to go to in London and Cambridge as well as the possibility of some other entertaining trips. Carol singing at Luton Airport on Wednesday, too.
Hey ho, back to work. Ngaargh.
The highlight of the sketches we read through was That Blake's 7 Episode Wot Paul Darrow Wrote. "Man of Iron". About a non-waterproof super-robot called Al Gore. Sorry, Algor. Approached in proper silliness, with special effects including cuddly evil orange planets, Liberator swooping past a penguin, and the ARMY OF EVIL MY LITTLE PONY ROBOTS, the effect was unforgettable.
Kneel before Zod! Or the EVIL LITTLE PONY ROBOTS will get you!
I like my friends.
Some lessons to learn going forward: 36 pints of beer is a lot, even for us, and I can only just get 12 people in my house. And I get very sleepy when I'm drunk... :)
Sunday was a bit calmer. Just miss_next and I were left in the house; I went off to church (impromptu solos are a bit harder to concentrate on with a hangover) and then had to do emergency shopping. Came back, we cooked pasta, and she got reacquainted both with bits of my frock coat and Asterix books. People forget how funny Asterix is.
I dropped Sarah off at the station, then went to return the borrowed pot of hedgehogs to Mum, and took the leftovers of Nature's Harmonic Simultaneous 4-Corner Beer Cube to St. Peter's with me. What followed was a truly wonderful service; Mag and Nunc were Purcell in G minor (self as Dec alto soloist, singing what is really a high tenor part, but he's my favourite composer and my bottom Gs were working nicely), and the anthem was Darke In the bleak midwinter, with some lovely verses by Head Chorister Bruce and tenor-about-town T. The beer went down very well after that.
I'm ashamed to say I drifted off to sleep during Hogfather. No fault of the adaptation - some truly excellent touches, such as the way that they got Richard Wilson Ian Richardson (ENOBRAIN) to voice Death just so that he could say "YOU MAY THINK THAT BUT I COULDN'T POSSIBLY COMMENT"... But being the genius he is, oscarhocklee has recorded it on his PVR Cleverly (tm), such that it can be written onto a DVD which can be played in DVD players. Yay. I await a little parcel with great interest.
The one slight frustration from the weekend, apart from England's humiliation in Perth, was that the frock coat still isn't finished, though progress has been made on it and the end is in sight. I wish I didn't care about cricket quite so much as I do; cricket fandom is sometimes like being in love with someone unsuitable.
But now comes the inevitable back-to-earth, for a couple of days at least, as I sift through 90 emails and urgent jobs. Still, Christmas is beckoning, mum is in better shape than expected, and there are a couple of parties I intend to go to in London and Cambridge as well as the possibility of some other entertaining trips. Carol singing at Luton Airport on Wednesday, too.
Hey ho, back to work. Ngaargh.