Fellatur in Decatur

I'm sorry, I meant Battle in Seattle.

I watched the DVD last night with a box of Kleenex next to the Metaxa in case I needed to wipe away my excess blubbing of nostalgia.

I and other Amazon stalwarts were there, in our grandstand cubicles overlooking the fray.

The toffs abed in Pacmed will have thought themselves accursed they were not there.

We were just round the corner from the WTO confab and looked down at the protesters smashing windows (or trying) while others tried to stem the vandalism. Now and then there'd be the distant sound of a mob charging and if you haven't heard that mass roar, it's an animal sound which the amphitheatres must have rocked to with each new batch of Christians coming up close 'n' personal with those hungry lions.

Seattle looked wonderful thru my homesick tears altho' the movie itself seemed a bit fanciful.

I looked for me shuffling down to the ferry thru the mists of tear gas but I think the cameras were more interested in Ms Theron.

Au sujet de that stinging lacrymogène, Mr Zachary Works of the parishes of Interlaken and West Texas wrote a good piece which, to my jealousy, appeared in Salon (no less), damn his wily pen.

We were given pieces of headed paper to wave at the Guards to get in and out but they didn't cut much ice one evening when we left by the back-of-building loading bay to find one squad charging up one end of the alley and another stomping down on us from t'other.

The Emerald City made all the front pages and my inbox when I got home was crammed with worried messages.

Amazon was in the heart of the posh shopping district and les citoyens were targeting all the brand names.

What saved us , in my opinion, was Lord Preston of Bezosia's prescient lack of vanity in having no signage up to give away that here be Masters of the Universe bent on world domination.

Phew. All I could think of was the shame of Ms Julie Vick seeing me in my true colours as the barbarians broke in and their eyes blazed with lust at the cowering cutie from Colorado.

Worst, the Mountain Man would have had no problem carving a swathe through the ruffians, scooping up la JV by her svelte waist and abseiling down to demolish further hordes as he whistled up his steed and galloped thru the mist to safety, Miss Vick whimpering 'my hero' and the fuzz exchanging admiring grunts, "Dude! Who wuz  that tangle-haired toughie?"

Now there's  your trailer.