Dinner in an alien spaceship and the wrath of the Lord.
2002-12-16 at 8:13 a.m.

 

Well, I don't know about you, but I had a curious weekend. I went to a rugby match that didn't happen and to a restaurant decorated like the inside of a 1970s alien spaceship. I bet y'all are jealous of my life.

So. The rugby match. Well, that's not very exciting. We were going to watch a friend of ours get the living crap kicked out of him for 80 minutes. However, as the game was called off he was in the bar of his clubhouse nice and warm, whilst I'm trudging over muddy fields heading for what looks like a rugby pitch in the middle distance. It was a rugby pitch. But we'd walked so damn far that we'd ended up at the next rugby club. Don't laugh, my feet were so cold.

Still, eventually we found him snug as a bug in the bar and proceeded to join him and the rest of the 2nd fifteen. Me and a bunch of rugby players in a bar. Mmmm, scrummy. Muhaha. Did you see the bad rugby pun there? Well?

Then we went for dinner with my parental unit. I'm so civilised. My friend recommended this restaurant. To be fair the food was good, but I was dreadfully distracted by the decor. Silver walls, with occasional coloured strips, in lime green, purple and orange. And brown leather armchairs. And, in a nod to the festive season, a Father Christmas on the bar with fibre optics lights poking out of his sack and a saucy, wiggly dance. I was expecting him to turn around and moon the restaurant throughout dinner. This is distracting when you are trying to eat your Thai beef and rice.

I'm going to a carol service next weekend. Not that I'm even remotely religious, but I intend to cement my place in hell by going along. I just like singing carols, and listening to other people sing carols. I do get faintly concerned that my flesh starts smoking slightly when I go into a church, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. So. Yeh. I'm going to go and enjoy all the Christiany stuff without actually being a Christian. I suspect there are rules about that. I bet God really hates hypocrites. Mind you, they forced me to go to church when I was at school. For seven years. Just think how much trouble they're going to be in.

What else? I've sorted Mr Me's present out. Now I'm just waiting for it to arrive.

~drums fingers on desk~

Nope, still not here.

That's it. Unless you're interested in the fact that I made the most scrummy roast chicken yesterday and that Almond, Date and Orange stuffing adds that something extra to your roast?

Oh. And isn't it nice when someone you actually like sends you a Christmas card? And Mr Me's nan broke her hip yesterday, so if you could send healing vibes her way that would be handy.