Thursday, May 19, 2005

When You Walk In A Dream But You Know You're Not Dreaming, Signore 

Pizza. Cappuccino. Vino. Roberto Baggio.
I think that's the basics covered.
We'll just have to use hand gestures should we need to say anything more complex, such as "Can you help? We think our bicycles may be in that river."

Me and Girlfriend are off to get hot and bothered for a bit.
Nature abhors a vacuum so I'm dead chuffed that, in my absence, a chain gang of premium quality bloggers have kindly offered to pick up the dream blogging baton and shuffle off with it. Right here, on this blog. I can hardly contain myself.

Having blog guests round is a bit like throwing a party then going down the pub and leaving them to it. You're hopeful that people will turn up, have a good time, make new friends and snort derisively at your CD collection but of course, ultimately, it's out of your control.
You also trust that you won't come home to discover the place looking significantly tidier and more inviting than when you left it, otherwise what does that say about you?

Fingers crossed then.

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