Maman keeps talking of writing to all her pals but by the time she gets down to it, everyone will think it's about a tempest of 2012. Here be very thorough record with ace captions and some artistic snaps. Here's my order for the T-shirt."
Our big cypress was blown down, away from the house.
Now when my mother clutches at your sleeve like the ancient jardinière you can make a hasty exit with a "I know, Marjorie! I've seen the photos, read the blurbs.
Wonderful fotoLIBRA is a gift and a god-send to all you illustrationists who like to dolly up yer books and blogs. Click and profit. Or just click and bask in the wonderful fotos therein. Lovely Rita ~ Whats so thrilling about a parking meter? No idea. Never seen one here in Corfu. I hate to drone on about checking out this site and service but do do yourselves a Christmas favour and take 5 mins off surfing youtube and Asian Babes and savour this gem.
See if you agree - at a nano-second's first glance, the contrabassiste has a touch of the Eminem about him.
This Martin Gross is good and he features good players.
"Boris Johnson has taken revenge on Sepp Blatter and the other FIFA delegates who destroyed England’s bid to host the World Cup by kicking them out of London’s Dorchester hotel for the 2012 Olympic Games."
Extracts from Nick Malkoutzis' measured and moving message: Our joint venture began in early 1998, when Greece's most prestigious newspaper teamed up with the global daily to create Kathimerini's English Edition, which started life as an eight-page insert in the IHT in Greece and Cyprus. Ten years later, Athens Plus was born, the inspiration of our owners, who wanted a newspaper that would be modern and beautiful. Athens Plus was born at a time that Greece was sliding inexorably toward the current economic crisis. We became a microcosm of our country, part of the story that we were covering. We got to the point where, if we continued to make the cuts that would help us break even, we would have destroyed what we were making." The roll of honour: Nick Malkoutzis*Elis Kiss*Christine Sturmey*Harry van Versendaal*Dimitra Angeli*Niki Kitsantonis*George Georgakopoulos*Stelios Bouras*George Kolyvas*Laura McDowell*Steve Stafford*Soultana Kalligas*Deborah Ellis*Nikol Karali*Evie Kousoula*Julia Panayotou*Phoebe Fronista*Katerina Voussoura*Vivienne Nilan*Evangelia Arvaniti*Yvette Varvaressou*Alexandra Koroxenidis*Theokli Kotsifaki*Haris Argyropoulos*Manos Symeonakis*Maria Kirchantzoglou*Panos Athanasainas*Mark Weinstein*John Leonard*Jens Bastian*Valentina Villegas-Nikas*Nikos Konstandaras Mum would grab the News and I'd get stuck into the meatier Plus and their wonderful arts pages (not to put down the others - mum's recipe scrapbook looks like a bulging annexe of AP). Then I'd speed to Youtube and look up the artistes they mentioned and pass them off to all my Seattle, Hong Kong, Clapham et aleundi pals. Oh poh poh - Plus's left-hand column of Top 10 tracks on various intriguing themes - being dumped, being blue, saying goodbye - were Run-Don't-Walk posts, again passed off as my own. Gawd knows what answers I'll now come up with when asked how come my inspiration has dried. Whoops - busted. Sad sad sad, and a measure of the times in which we slave and those to come. Bravo, those heros.
Very sad news - Athens Plus closing."The last copy of Athens Plus that we are publishing. Our newspaper sprang to life just two-and-a-half years ago, as our publisher's gesture of hope in our country's development and in the durability of print; it was born of the successful collaboration of Kathimerini and the International Herald Tribune.
My sadness and regret is true. I loved my Fridays: zoom down to the local newsagent, grab the 2 papers - yes, I don't mind doffing a cap to Athens News.
Actually, bloody good and genuinely festive and spirit-lifting. That's what I call choreography - looking as if not a jot has gone in.
This is my kind of article and I've read it through twice even before leaping to post it. Even my brother slams that idiot jardinerie vanity as steaming night-soil bullshit of the pungentest poop plop: IT AIN'T YOUR FUCKING HOBBY (Geddit?!) No faluting wordage is going to lift it from dead dull ashes on the page. This article is a good example of horses for courses, but we're talking vile gardenry so wazza the point? Highway 61 - a little bonus
Takes some nerve performing Samba before the Maestro. Takes un peu de technique, to boot.
Heard of him? I hadn't, but what a pretentious twonker. I had BBC TV on silent and came in with my peanuts and coquetail du soir and there was this hideous sight. Ugh. OK, I thought, one of those worthy documentaries showing how a distracting hobby can help lift even the most afflicted above mere physical setbacks - in this case, a nasty case of keratosic psoriasis. Not to be thought squeamish, I turned up the vol. A charitable orchestra - dressed prawperly - was allowing some scruff with a bad case of St Vitus to scrape along. He finished with a flourish and tell-tale swivel-eyed preening. Then, to my consternation for their hygienic wellbeing, Baldilocks proceeded to snog the dishier violinistas, who had clearly been alerted because they didn't even flinch as Kenners he homed in with his plucked-chicken bonce. Then followed an 'interview' which he fielded with the most excruciating faux working-class accent, using pretentious vocab such as gig, chops, axe and other Hendrixian blabber to describe the music. Unfortunately for Rosin le Beau, I had him busted bang to rights, having once met his parents: they speak with perfectly acceptable educated accents. So whence cometh our Noige's strangled Higginsonian vow'z? I couldnt tell if he fiddled any good, like, but *he* clearly thought so from his giggly cavortings; the orchestra was a model of tact, delivering rictus smiles all round. Don't get me wrong: I'm all for these rehabilitation programmes - whatever gets people on their feet and back into society - but to broadcast the process on a public network, and a family one, to boot? I confess I ogled the spectacle to the end but not without an uncomfortable feeling of voyeurism spiced with a guilty dollop of armchair cruelty. 
Walking Gee-gees - The Trots And anybody who knows anything about equestrian activities will see perhaps a trot followed by walking horses."
"I was at the debrief last night, there was no reference to that whatsoever and I have no reference to it."
"I can't comment on the operation itself, except to say I would urge people to see the video for themselves and judge the comment about charging into the crowd.
I love this photo. I've poured myself an early vin blanc et kir and lit a delicious Karelia as I savour the scene.
Nor do I know which quote to headline and in which order of satisfaction to place them: Look at that baby face, almost too fresh to try that snarly gnarly expression. And do look at that defiant middle finger? FFS, children, what's wrong with a good old True Blue patriotic V-sign? No sense of tradition or history, les jeunes these days. Absolutely hilarious. Crackerjack Natterjack chemise for his close-up, he means. What raises my spirits is how many similar stories will emerge from the identifying photos and meedja coverage with yet more hooligans biting the dust. Yee haWW. Protesters had covered it with graffiti, smashed the windows and climbed on the roof before breaking in and removing police equipment. It emerged today that Mr Moore only got caught up in the chaos after coming to London for a job interview." 'Cool. I'm making good time. Always looks organised and keen to turn up slightly early - might be forms to fill in. Ayup, sounds like a bit of aggro going on over there - never a dull moment in the Smoke. Ungghh - wot's this force pulling me off my route? Got to resist ... mum would kill me ... my best shirt ... can't let me bird down ... unhhh ... running late, yobs and ASBOs on top of van, keep my nose clean ... slip in front of the van where no one'll mistake me for one of 'em ... steer clear of the chaos, grab helmet ... blimey, photographers ... got nuffink for them to snap, poor bastards ... over here! this better? Finger and scowl? Wannna hear some effing n blinding? Phew, that was close ... always keep a low profile, is best.' Jailbait on the march! Oliver better look to his juvie laurels.
Har har har - ^5, you stoopid little fucker.
Bravo!! And is that there the picture? Must be - says it all: "He was photographed in front of a vandalised police van.
OR RATHER ...
Ever since that Cassandra Nevada vixen cut me to the quick by pointing out that Gwyn 'Dai the Folly' ran a wittier humorous blog than moi, I've been brooding on my soggy bloggy efforts to be the new William Hickey-cum-Quentin Letts. She and he are right: posts should be punchy whiplash in/out observations. An email just in heads me in the right direction. A lady - literal Lady, chattel of a knight - writes to me with a memory I don't actually remember. Seems I was at a dinner where I'd been beefing about how people went on about jardinerie: "I don't suddenly wade in with tedious chatter about plunking a guitar, or amusing tricks with HTML, or snapping busty babes on the sly - why do 'gardening' enthusiasts feel the right to suddenly launch into their hobby without craving indulgence from any other diners who find the past-time a crashing bore. Ignored and shouted down, of course. I don't recall the incident but certainly take credit for such foolhardiness: apparently, dessert served and coffee and liqueurs circling, and still the chatter droning on about drooping daturae and wanton wisteria, I whispered a request to the butler to bring me an ashtray and proceeded to light up. Host: At my table, it's customary to ask permission before lighting up." Me - look of apologetic surprise - You clearly run a more relaxed table so I thought that I, too, might dispense with such starched etiquette. Of course, I will extinguish my cigarette herewith and we can clear the air with an equally more tolerable thread of conversation." My correspondent: Anyway, I'm writing to say that I used the exact same ploy at a dinner with my husband and golf cronies and it worked a treat. Are you insular this Christmas as your mother visits Italy as usual? I don't know how she does it at her age. I can hardly drag myself out of bed to totter down the road to Partridges. Absolutely dreading the drive down to Devon ... etc" OK OK, still hot as an air balloon but I'm working on it. Dai Folly would have it nailed: "Actually, Christopher, I personally don't mind if you smoke but there might be others who find the habit objectionable.
Nods and grunts."I'm terribly sorry. I personally don't object to people monopolising the conversation with tales of their hobbying but I find many others of us find it tedious after a while and are grateful for the custom of asking permission before launching into 'grandes histoires botaniques'.
"My dear, you could have heard a pin drop. In fact, I'm sure I popped more than one trying to contain my laughter.
"Blah blah, garden garden, sod this pour une alouette ... anyone got a gasper? Say what, guv'? Yachy da, beg pardon, all."
