March 2003 Archives

Free Drinks at Gatwick

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We just got free drinks from the Bacardi guy in the departure lounge at Gatwick airport. Wha-hey! Some kind of tasty white rum, orange juice and cranberry juice concoction. Very yummy and breakfast-like.

I had a very odd security procedure visited upon my shoes. They sat me in a special chair (no doubt to scan my butt at the same time) and then ran a swab all over both my shoes. The they put the swab in a big machine that whirred and clicked. Apparently I was free from dodgy dust and they let me continue on my way where we met the truly lovely Bacardi Dude.

Rainy Ireland is a Myth!

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Just got back from a weekend in Ireland with my Crazy Landlord, the Wee Sinead, and my doctor spouse. Pix are at:

/Yanda/pix/2003_03_22/

Bizarre rambling description of our adventures to follow. Watch this space.

39th Birthday Drinkage

I am now 39 years old. To celebrate this fact, I went for a wee dram or two with some friends. It was not nearly as well-planned as John's 30th just three weeks ago.

Originally, we intended to go to a pub called Filthy McNasty's. In searching the web for an address for Filthy's, I discovered that a Filthy McNasty's had just opened up in my hometown of Edmonton, Canada.

Cool! Cosmic Connection! A sign from the Gods! Unfortunately, it turned out that the London Filthy's was closed. In fact, I think what happened was that the Filthy's in Edmonton, isn't just a branch of some bigger, Filthy chain but is, in fact, the actual London pub. No doubt (perhaps as some kind of war protest) they just moved the entire pub across to Canada, leaving a hollow shell in its place.

I discovered this fact at 5:30pm and wasn't able pass the info on to the masses until close to six. In a panic, I did my best to redirect the enormous flow of humanity to the Red Lion Theatre pub which is just a couple of blocks from Filthy's. If it hadn't been for this minor burble, I feel confident there would have been thousands of people at my party instead of just the dozen or so who showed up.

But at least those dozen brave souls did find the right pub and we drank one or two pints of poison and giggled like little girls.

A photographic record of the event is below.
/Yanda/pix/2003_03_17/

And there's also a special photo album of this guy named Andrew who took about a bizillion pictures of himself.
/Yanda/pix/2003_03_17_narcissus/

Shot from a Cannon

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It's kind of fun being shot from a cannon but it's also a bit painful. I used to get shin splints from it. It feels a bit like jumping to the ground form a slightly high platform, say the top of an eightfoot fence or something. At least the first second or so is like that. Then you're flying through the air, trying to look dignified before you land in the net. Landing in the net doesn't really hurt at all as long as you do it right. Land on your back with a bit of a roll. it's just that first whomp when the cannon explodes under your feet. Even then, it's not so much an explosion as the feeling of a really fast elevator starting suddenly.