Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Mr. Lube

I visited Mr. Lube today. It was my first time. Ever. Mr. Lube - or at least his acolytes - were very gentle with me, bless 'em. Now the car no longer has a threatening illuminated spanner on the dashboard, warning me to change the oil.

After work, we had to make haste while the sun shone and get our newly lubed Honda over to Vanier Park for the Bard on the Beach champagne reception. We actually didn't realise it was a champagne reception, but two of the musical directors from this year's plays were there, plus the costume designer, who was the tallest woman I had ever seen in my life. The food was yummers too.
Which reminds me that on my last day in Pompey, Holly gave me a little smile by describing what she was eating as yummers.

So, a severed foot has now turned up in Sweden. Maybe a copycat shark. It's getting to be more mysterious than crop circles. Alright, not really, but still, pretty spooky.

The Church of England has made a step towards the 21st Century, no, sorry, more like catching up to the early part of the 20th, by finally allowing the ordination of women bishops. I'm sure there's a joke about not bashing the bishop in there, but it escapes me. Hallelujah anyway.

Graham Norton last night (we're seriously behind with our viewing of this, the current series was shown in the UK in 2007) told us that he didn't blame celebs themselves for some of the dreadful things they wore or did, but rather their friends. Our friends are supposed to stop us going out in certain things and such like. For example, he didn't blame Britney, but rather Britney's friends for not pointing out that she had no knickers on. And then there is the dead cat on Amy Winehouse's head. Friends' job.
I can feel a mission coming on.
Most of my actual friends don't need things to be pointed out to them, but often complete strangers do. What a pleasant surprise and free service this will be.

Meanwhile, back at Bard, I had the deep satisfaction of being able to harangue the salesman who was standing next to a Jag about its impact on the planet. He was good. He agreed in a most sociable manner with everything I said and thus completed a wonderful evening.

1 comment:

Sleepy said...

Oh yes! Telling strangers they look a mess.
Excellent service, within a niche market!