Clare and I are having a discussion about rabies. We just did our Tuesday Rubix Cube Challenge, and she won by a considerable margin. My enjoyment of the rabies discussion is tempered by my frustration at losing the challenge; meaning I really don't know what to feel. Went to the Odeon Leicester Square today to view a client's new 3D TV creative. It was quite good.
The Action Squid family are delighted by the news of the impending royal nuptials. For those of you not in the veritable and hallowed 'know,' said family is as follows:
- Captain Squid. The father. The big dog. Winston Churchill. Reads the Daily Mail
- Vino Squid. The mother. A serene, cake-baking matriarch by morning and hell-raising new-wave hedonist by afternoon, evening, night and parts of the next morning
- Party Squid. The older brother; libertine, adventurer and self-styled 'One Man Party.' Has an excellent collection of paisley ties
- Inky Squid. The rebellious yet laconic younger brother. A patchwork of anachronistic influences (the only man I know to wear a denim jacket with self-stitched leopard print collar, orange rimmed glasses and purple, knee-high Dr. Martin boots)
Quite the middle-class axiom I think you'll agree.
Honksy has said that we are to organise a street party to celebrate the royal wedding next year, including; tea, Union-Jack bunting, cucumber sandwiches and home-made lemonade. I'm tempted to suggest that this more an attempt to recreate the 1950s than it is celebrate Willbur and Katie K, but it's not worth the trouble. We're on a knife-edge with the house-mate situation, so I'm loathe to the idea of rocking the proverbial 'boat.'
Many strangers coming to view the room tonight. I've hidden my collection of Schwarzenegger DVD's.
Your loving friend,
Action Squid
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