Thirty Thousand Streets

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Christmas Day

"My Style Is Crazy Fat, Reminiscent of a Whale"

Thus sing A Tribe Called Quest from my brother's stereo. I'm about to drive with him to, ahem, Wales to see my mum and dad.

Exciting times indeed. Went out for the annual pub excursion in Heaton Moor last night, which always consists of going to local pubs and talking to people you've not seen since.. last Christmas Eve.

Anyway later. I'll write when I've got the stamina.


Phae said...

The pub excersion sounds familiar. I wonder if anyone would notice if you didn't go one year?

Zeno Cosini said...

Hope it's going well. We're just back from our Christmas jaunt in Bath, which can basically be condensed into the image of me lying on my parents' sofa wearing a new hat while a constant stream of Cadbury's Celebrations are directed into my mouth by the thin end of a cornucopia. With Eastenders on in the background (who killed Dennis?)

The Eyechild said...

Peace. Going alright. I feel haggard now, and want to go home and do normal things like buy milk and sleep in my own bed. I don't think anyone would have missed me at the pub this year, so next time, I might fax my likeness on a4 sheets for a willing accomplice to assemble into a cardboard cut out someone could prop in a corner.