Snack time

Conference food is variable. At snacktimes, doubly so. Sometimes it's just complimentary biscuits and coffee, and other times there's fruit too.

Typically, America is different. They like to give people food, as Tom observed today "to assuage the guilt of the low wages" --- I paraphrase.

A trolley has arrives, containing packets of crisps, and M&Ms, and kit-kats, and skittles, and starbursts for the love of god, and two big ice-and-soda-bottle-filled trays, and tray of cookies and brownies, and now the food lady has gone, I can only think she's gone to get pizza, or a fatted calf. Made of candy.

I, on the other hand, had mutton biryani and smoked brisket inna bun for lunch. Very nice.

Pimms taskforce

We have arrived in Chicago, and I speak to you from the conference venue's very generously provided wireless internet connection. Even more generous ha been Tom, who cooked a great vegetable lasagne for us last night. Lunch today is going to be courtesy of the Taste of Chicago festival I'll speak more of this after lunch.

On Homophony and other such things

This is a fun game, suggested by Harry, and one round has been played by Will and won by Chrispin.

(Now, bear in mind that this game is too easy when played with New Zealanders, who only have one vowel.)

The game can also be played with Californians, and indeed when one is married to a So-Cal girl it is less of a game and more of a bothersome inevitability.

However:
1) A girl's name
2) a verb, meaning to join
3) an adjective, meaning happy and often applied to holidays and widows.

I'm leaving the country tomorrow, but fear not, for I shall have internet access, and I will probably post more frequently. My first port of call is the Windy City. I'm not sure what is is that winds so much, perhaps it's the streets. I do know that it's de rigeur to ramble whilst there, which klends support to my hypothesis.

The Best Lionel --- punditry

I have been encouraged, nay, exhorted, to pick a side in The Best Lionel survey. I'm faced with a quandry. You see, Chris really was my favourite Morris, but My Favourite Lionel is Blue, (most definitely not the UK's first openly gay rabbit). He's not on the list.

So, reluctantly, I say "Vote L-Train!"

Separated at birth?

Not wishing to trivialise a major news story of last week, but...


Deep Throat, aka Mark Felt


Max Zorin, aka Christoper Walken
Of course, if they were separated at birth, Walken would have also been frozen,
to account for the age gap...

Chippenham Folk Festival and offal burgers.

Made it to the last day of a local Folk festival
on Monday, and didn't have time to mention it until now. Having voted for my favourite Morris in spiritofthetin's survey, It was fun to see a parade of local morris men, but I think my vote of "Chris" was the correct one.

The music was fun --- the stalls less so. With the exception of a great musical instruments tent (replete with drums and electric fiddles) and a leather stall, where I bought myself a money sack (in the spirit of "here is a purse of monies, which I am not going to give to you"), everything was new-agey crystals and second hand hippy-garb. Is this in general true? Will I have to put up with this claptrap when all I want is a foaming flagon of nut brown ale, a rustic foodstuff, and a browse of the merkin stall?

One final plus, which brings me comforatbly out of this extended foray into music blogging and back to more familiar epicurian territory. I had a burger from a local fast food institution, and the burgers contained "17% beef hearts". Heart burgers and Nando's infamous Bucket O' Liver suggest to me that fast offal is a growth industry. Invest now!

Deeeeeead! dead dead dead dead dead!

Last.fm just played "The man who went hunting" from Shock Headed Peter for me. Superb.

I am stuck in my miserable office, typesetting model answers for ungrateful, rude, miserable underachievers. Grrrr....