Sunday, July 24, 2005
The Groop Played Space Age Bachelor Pad Music
If you could possess just one super-power, which would you choose?
I would like to have charm, please. I already have opposable thumbs and tremendous good looks: if only I could throw charm into the mix I could be a force to be reckoned with.
Juggling Protégé, my juggling protégé, oozes the stuff and I’m so jealous.
He tends to keep his orbits separate - I’m guessing he has more circles of friends than I have friends - but me and Girlfriend felt honoured indeed to be invited back to his space age bachelor pad with the suggestively silky plasterwork on Saturday for what was probably just one of many flat warmings.
We bought him some proper juggling balls for a present. I decided he’s ready to move on from limes. We marked the occasion with an entirely non-sexual man hug.
For cast and crew see the previous post, then add my Future Canoeing Instructor - I’m still stalling on this, but I would like to have been canoeing, honest - and assorted extras.
The usual nonsense was discussed, including “What games did you play as kids” - Sarah’s was playing at car parking, which was hysterical, you probably had to be there, etc. - and “Have you ever shoplifted?”
For the record, no I’ve never shoplifted, although a few years ago a hopelessly shambolic major retailer was kind enough to gift me about £300 worth of stuff. They were stupid and did it all by themselves really. I just stood and watched.
We were also treated to one half of a very funny mobile phone conversation. Sarah’s husband rang up sounding forlorn and worse for drink after an evening in the company of wagon drivers that didn’t live up to expectations.
“No Billy, you’re not going into the house until you’ve hosed it off. I want to hear that hosepipe.”
She was patient and kind with him, while maintaining a firm tone and sending out a clear signal. It was truly heart warming. Charlie said “Oh that’s so sweet! I want a husband like that!”
“No Billy, you’re just making a hosepipe noise. If you go inside the house, you’re dead. Hosepipe, Billy. The real hosepipe.”
Next time we go back I’m taking my own binoculars. When Juggling Protégé said there’s a woman who sometimes walks about in the nip in the flats across the way, Leanne instantly commandeered his set and wouldn’t let anybody else get a look in, not for hell or high water. It was the only downside to an otherwise entertaining evening.
I would like to have charm, please. I already have opposable thumbs and tremendous good looks: if only I could throw charm into the mix I could be a force to be reckoned with.
Juggling Protégé, my juggling protégé, oozes the stuff and I’m so jealous.
He tends to keep his orbits separate - I’m guessing he has more circles of friends than I have friends - but me and Girlfriend felt honoured indeed to be invited back to his space age bachelor pad with the suggestively silky plasterwork on Saturday for what was probably just one of many flat warmings.
We bought him some proper juggling balls for a present. I decided he’s ready to move on from limes. We marked the occasion with an entirely non-sexual man hug.
For cast and crew see the previous post, then add my Future Canoeing Instructor - I’m still stalling on this, but I would like to have been canoeing, honest - and assorted extras.
The usual nonsense was discussed, including “What games did you play as kids” - Sarah’s was playing at car parking, which was hysterical, you probably had to be there, etc. - and “Have you ever shoplifted?”
For the record, no I’ve never shoplifted, although a few years ago a hopelessly shambolic major retailer was kind enough to gift me about £300 worth of stuff. They were stupid and did it all by themselves really. I just stood and watched.
We were also treated to one half of a very funny mobile phone conversation. Sarah’s husband rang up sounding forlorn and worse for drink after an evening in the company of wagon drivers that didn’t live up to expectations.
“No Billy, you’re not going into the house until you’ve hosed it off. I want to hear that hosepipe.”
She was patient and kind with him, while maintaining a firm tone and sending out a clear signal. It was truly heart warming. Charlie said “Oh that’s so sweet! I want a husband like that!”
“No Billy, you’re just making a hosepipe noise. If you go inside the house, you’re dead. Hosepipe, Billy. The real hosepipe.”
Next time we go back I’m taking my own binoculars. When Juggling Protégé said there’s a woman who sometimes walks about in the nip in the flats across the way, Leanne instantly commandeered his set and wouldn’t let anybody else get a look in, not for hell or high water. It was the only downside to an otherwise entertaining evening.

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