Midsummer Night

Word of the Day

Lucid

Luce - slipping over silk - sliding - sid - into closed door, feet first.

The Restaurant at the End of the Internet

Fed up without being well fed? Credit crunch stopping you munch? Having a rest from restaurants, or just spent six hours researching baby kangaroos online and forgot to eat?

Here it is, The Restaurant at the End of the Internet! The virtual experience of good food and pleasant surroundings. Own imaginative input required.

The decor is varied mix of the tacky, the twee and the downright bizarre. The ceiling is made of pornographic pictures: naked women, parts of men. The walls are filled with prints of Marilyn Monroe and videos of Katy Perry squirting whipped cream from her breasts. If you look to the bottom of your menu, you can see that same whipped cream is available with dessert.

First though, it's time for hors d'oeuvres. Colourful mush in puff pastry. It's impossible to tell what is in them, even after eating.

Try the asparagus and mushroom in a light butter sauce. Careful not to spill on the deep pile carpet; it's a bright white with primary colour sparsely patterned in.

Main course is this delightful pasta dish. Stephen Fry is writing about it on twitter as we munch. He isn't giving it a good review, because the waiter made a joke about it not being fryed.

What are the couple at the next table having? Looks like champ, with tofu there beside it and carrot sticks stuck in spinach lurking there behind. To each their own. Get all sorts out here at the Restaurant at the End of the Internet.

And for dessert? Brownie and ice cream. Whipped cream was all gone.

All that's left is the bill. Ah, but you don't pay for stuff from the internet. Just give money to the service providers. The waiters smile, after you've given them your tip, and show you to the door. Out back the chefs are none too happy, but it's a little late, 'cause you're already home safe and sound. In fact, you never left. Feel free to visit again the Restaurant at the End of the Internet. Turnover is high, so they'll never recognise your face. Eat what you like, but careful, you never know what they put in it or where it's been.

Things I saw Yesterday

#1

A woman talking on her mobile in a residential street, saying the words 'Sorry, I'm at the dentist right now...'

#2  Man in three piece suit in a theme park.












#3 A blue dolphin in a clouded sky.

Fever Poem

I wrote this at 5am this morning, feeling the flush of aspirin battling fever. In hindsight, I say it is inspired by the Slutwalk / IMF chief news stories.


The Old Bug Story

In my defence, said the beetlebug, it wasn't terribly hard,
Your honour, said the ladybug, he is twice my size.
To sum up, said the grasshopper,
Your figure is not great.
You have yet to find a mate.
While beetlebug is a high-flyer,
You are a flighty liar.
Beetlebug is on the stick exchange,
Womanbug where is your career?
Your skirts only go down to here,
You do not show appropriate fear,
To my grasshopper status and rank.
Case dismissed.

Ladybug saved up to purchase a knife,
Then one summer day took her own life.
Goodbye polka-dot lady in red.

The grasshopper mused, I'll invent a pie.
Make a mint.
As the leaping lord filled his coffers,
The beetlebug ran for public office.






No accompanying picture due to illness.
I do happen to have this bug one though >