Tag

Downtime

A word from King Barry

Stuart is away this week. I, King Barry, Snow White’s father, will provide you with an update. Stuart is, thus far, doing OK on all goals for 2017: Talks continue with a few potential business acquisitions. The fitbit indicates that he is keeping his nose ahead of his

Dry January Goal

“Goal: Dry January,” you say? Let me stop you there. No. That is that nonsense out of the way. January the first is my Mum’s birthday. Happy Birthday Mum! Soon she will join us here for lunch. As I type, my fantastic wife is cooking up

Christmas Time

Merry Christmas! I’m looking forward to some tasty food, some classy grape based beverages and the company of friends and family – including the little fellow above, Nero the dog. The world’s media and thousands of talented bloggers will produce long, detailed and weighty reviews of

Review

Ducks on the Pill Brook at the end of my street. This morning, I was watching a very brave journalist broadcasting from Aleppo in Syria. I do not claim to have any real handle on the rights and wrongs of that terrible conflict. I watched in horror and shame. Will

A great read.

What Ho everybody! Gratuitous photo of the Christmas tree and Nero the Schnauzer at his devastating cutest. Mrs L has decided that the tree should be in a new spot this year. Mostly, I think that she enjoys watching me move furniture about. In fairness, the tree does look great

The roof of the world

What Ho! It’s been a bit quiet here. The front row has been recovering from the camino experience. The tighthead is currently recovering hard with The Sheep and the Decorator. Were I a betting man, I might suggest that some rugby will be watched and some beers consumed,

Hold the front page! Candidate wins election.

Oh, I’m sorry. But really. Can we not just get over ourselves? What has actually happened? The USA has chosen its 45th President (The 20th Republican). There is some debate over the exact allegiance of some of the Presidents, but one reasonably popular set of numbers is 15

Sunshine

The lights had snapped on without warning in the dormitory. I had been awake for an hour or two, serenaded by an orchestra of snoring, grunting and farting. The Duck had not been awake. “Pu**** de m****.” He greeted the artificial dawn. “You do this in France&
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