Mama, I'm coming home.
So it's been entirely too long since I've posted, and I do apologise for that. I've finalised my plane ticket so I can announce that I'll be arriving back in the Magic City on June 27th at 10:52 PM, all being well. So alert the police, place the barricades, and round up whatever working ticker-tape machines you can as I will expect a full parade, circa 1926. We'll dance the Charleston late into the night, see? I know a whoopty spot where the gin is cold but the piano's hot- it's just a noisy hall, where there's a nightly brawl, and all... that... Sorry, I just confused myself with a Bob Fosse musical... Most embarrassingly, not for the first time! Well... Come along anyways- it'll be the bee's knees, and how!
In other, non-Jazz Age related news, the end of term is fast approaching and that means I should be furiously writing essays on Jacobean drama and the role of the 'Unruly Woman' in romantic comedies of the Thirties. Which is not to suggest I'm actually doing it. I'm far too busy trolling the internet for unusual pictures, like the one I'm featuring today by Kondoh Akino, and diverting but ultimately pointless websites like
this entertaining and informative site on demonic messages and backmasking in pop music. Also,
here's a brilliant county-by-county breakdown of generic names for soft drinks: what are you- soda, pop, or coke? I was particularly impressed by the variation in Alaska.
Also I saw a brilliant advert about Welsh pot noodle mining (which I suggest everyone invest in quick to grab a little profit, because it's sure to be nationalised any day now) but the difficulty I had expressing the concept to my family suggests a 'you-had-to-be-there' quality I had not previously recognised. It's funny because you don't REALLY mine pasta products! See? And the delicate, noodly tendrils of ramen draped over the brims of dour, hard-hatted Welsh miners- what a sight gag! On further reflection, I begin to see their point...
As of right now, I've no further plans for traveling as I have been struck low by that most terrible of illnesses: CSP. College student poverty. It's not poverty in any real or appreciable sense, because I still have food to eat, and a place to live, and a few quid to go down to boozer every week. So weep not for my penniless lot, I to shall carry on in the brave tradition of non-working students- that is to say, I'll try to keep up my spirits with more prosaic amusements. The simple joys of watching
Green Wing and chowing down on a curry or tequila shots at The Cavern must not be underestimated!
I'm really looking forward to being back in the States to see y'all! Also really looking forward to cooking in a properly set up kitchen (one with both knives AND saucepans) and catching up with my favorite anthropomorphised, non-talking canine companion- I miss you 'Nali! Of course I look forward to catching up with all you primate types as well, but at least we have communicated somewhat through email, etc. Nali's not been allowed to use the computer since she ordered those special edition
Benji box sets on Dad's credit card.
In closing, I don't think a football makes a very good Christmas present. Now, I really must get on to actual assignments- these essays won't right themselves you know! {Sotto Voce} No matter how many blood offerings... Great Homework Tiki God my a....
Slinks away muttering and hunched double like a bad Andy Serkis impersonator
