RABBIT RABBIT, ALL YOU BAD SINGERS!

Rabbit rabbit. Happy May First. Now that I've got that out of the way, let's talk about why many marketing types and trailerparkers shouldn't sing, even if they are visiting the big city and just giddy to be here. For one thing, their choice of songs is frightful, for another, they can't sing worth diddly, and for a third, they make one of my favourite bars quite unbearable. Seeing as because of my medication I abjure alcohol -- it might interact with one of my pills to destroy my liver and I'm rather attached to that organ -- favourite bars are fewer.

So we avoided the karaoke place. There was a rutting frenzy going on there. Instead we went to a more civilized venue further down where the nice bar tender recognized me from previous times and put on the kettle for my cup of tea. The bookseller had a pint of Guinness. We eventually became fascinated with her learning how to achieve the perfect oil-spritzing orange peel for cocktails, and, as my friend said when we were on the bus later, she does not at all look pregnant. Whoever told her that was either an idiot, or blind.

Or, possibly, jealous.


I should also mention that there is a bottle of Pimm's No. 1 there. So at some future point in time I shall bring a cucumber (a necessary garnish) and we'll all pretend like we're at Wembley or the regatta. Oh, it will be so jolly!

I'll still end up drinking tea, though.

The combination of the ill-effects of amlodipine besylate having diminished, a quick shot of coffee before leaving the house, a semi-caffeinated beverage at the burger joint, and hot tea at the bar, plus a very satisfying bowlful of red Virginia in a Dunhill bruyere billard -- a lovely old pipe that's comfortable for the hand to hold, and sits well in the mouth -- rendered me probably high as a kite. Wide awake and cheerful, despite the lateness.


Grant Avenue, now that the weather has improved, is somewhat more lively at night. One shopkeeper was washing her car in front of her store, a clothing emporium nearby was still open, one wonders why she still had the lights on and the sign up (perhaps as good a place to do her college homework as there was), and the ice cream place had only just closed. The next intersection over had a person taking photographs of the lanterns. Yes, there are still pavement sleepers, but more sane people.


Chinatown three times today. Haircut, lunch, pipe. Dumplings at teatime and a pipe.
Then the pubcrawl, preceeded by a pipe.



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