Futher to Madame B's tales of serendipity:
I was walking along a beach in Dar es Salaam, and about to get mugged, when a girl who had taken over my job in Brussels five years beforehand skidded up in a yellow jeep and whisked me to safety. We went and drank expressos and she showed me a voodoo tree, and then confessed that she often was tempted to jump naked into the gangs of men working on the roads.
I was in a bar in Almaty with a colleague when the best man at her wedding walked in. She had not seen him since the wedding 20 years beforehand. Random fact about her husband: he was bitten by a black mamba in Australia. The venom completely destroyed his immunity to anything, and he would have died if he had been stung by a bee. (He actually died of something else, by which time my friend had divorced him.)
Last time I met up with The Waunch in a pub, we got wasted. Amazing, huh?
In other news, the software that I use to generate hhn is now available in Persian. Cool, huh?
In other other news, v much looking forward to doing absolutely very little this weekend, other than not bumping into people I have not seen for a decade. Lord, give me the anonymity I deserve.
the ongoing saga of pretending to be a house husband in the new millennium
Where's Vinderama?
1 comment:
Number 2,274 in the corrections of hhn's entirely spurious animal facts: There are no black mambas in Australia (unless the geezer was bitten in a zoo, obviously).
And, I was talking to The Waunch the other day, and he said that the last time he saw hhn in the pub, hhn minced off after two pints, claiming he "had to go to Surrey."
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