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Splendours And Miseries. . .

Thursday April 2nd, sun through haze, the blackbird singing.
That's thirty five days straight, thirty six counting the official day off on the 4th Sunday. I get asked, hopefully (by male respondents, women have this issue nailed) "did you lose weight?" No, mate. Alcohol fasts only make you lose weight as part of the proverbial calorie-controlled diet. If you drop a dress size without trying, just by leaving out the booze for a week or two, I'm afraid you have a drink problem, my friend.

I didn't watch the City of London situation yesterday, just checked it at my desk every now and then. 86 arrests, in the end (or so they say). Protestors harrassed and cattle-penned, police provoked, and someone died, while the Met were tending him. . . It was going to get ugly,because our police are like that. That's why I stayed at home. The surprise will be when (if ever) the English police, or rather their masters, start cleaning up their act, and turning all Gilbert and Sullivan because the voters en masse are getting behind those four horsemen. What will it take? Wait and see.

Splendours and miseries of having your son home for the holidays:

Mother: Gabriel, Gabriel! You have to get up! You've got to get up and go to London. The agency just called, your landlord is chucking you out because of that rent strike. . .

Son: Gnnfh Guugnth... Wha, wot. Sits up, eyes focusing in panic. Wot, today? They're chucking us out now??

Mother, urgent and beginning to panic: Yes, right now. Your things are all on the pavement! And I just had a phone call from Gab's mum (that's the other Gabriel, currently asleep downstairs and making the place look even more untidy, were that possible). He's getting thrown out as well. His stuff is outside too!

Son: (SCRAMBLING OUT OF BED, WILD EYED) Ohmigod! Ohmigod, I knew it, I told him! I told him! And Gab is getting chucked out of halls? What did he do? Oh, Oh, Oh, God, what shall I do???

Mother, growing calmer: Well, it's pretty bad. But you should allow for the fact that it's April 1st. And you left the basement in a horrible state last night.

(At three am, listening to the drinking games and the wild piano music down below, I was contemplating having him scramble and panic as far as the doorstep before letting him off, but I had relented a little.)





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Kathryn Cramer on :

When I woke my son up on April 1st, I told him all about the eclipse that was taking place later in the day. I guess I was a bit gentler w/ my April fools joke.

Gwyneth on :

Ha. Turns out the joke was on me, because they ARE going to get evicted, because of that rentstrike thing. The unilateral rentstriker, flatmate F1 had moral right on his side: he was withholding the money until the shower was fixed, until the heating was fixed, and a few other little things that the landlord had failed to repair, despite repeated pleas. However, right or wrong, they're out on their ears. Gabriel and Peter are taking this calmly. So I suppose I should too.

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