Monday, January 3

Pass me the hammer, thanks.....




About time to hang a picture on the fourth wall. People like pictures even if they are of no real benefit at all. People seem to know how to "look" even if they can't "see".

God, I'm down to the level of cod-profundity already.

In case you're bothered, by some miracle, the picture is one of mine and was taken in Russia at about 6am one morning. It was around -15 degrees and I'd not long got off the Trans-Siberian. I just like the golden morning glow, thats all. I'm easily pleased.

5 Comments:

At 4:40 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well they said I could do this anonymously so here goes, yeah your so right pictures are far easier than all that dribble you have written about ie Bjork, would rather be assmilated by the Borg than listen to that hee hee, anyway great pic of a Russia that was still behind the iron-curtain mmmmmmm vodka ... now make sense of that ......................................

 
At 6:03 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I has seen that pic before somewhere, weird.
Vodka, ah ... Vodka ... ah .... Vodka

I wanna see Daleks dammit.

L the 4th
AGAIN

 
At 7:17 pm, Blogger Just Somebody said...

Seems like international "anonymous" day, doesn't it.

Well, I'll just nod at the first person knowingly and Luke, you shall have your request fufilled.

 
At 11:38 pm, Blogger Jen Jordan said...

I like it! Looks like Washington D.C., but communized.

Whilst there, did you do the hot sauna, painful massage then dive into ice cold lake thingy? Ah joy to the senses!

 
At 5:10 am, Blogger Just Somebody said...

No, but we'd been drinking very dodgy cocktails (well, ok, from the bottles) of black label champagne and near lethal whiskey. We'd been warned the Provodnik (train guard) in our carriage would be a surly grump of a man but he was trying to sell everything right down to his uniform and rifle. He seemed to have a backless fridge when it came to knocked off booze.

This made for an amazing travelling party, passing from carriage to carriage like a portable bohemia until we realised when pulling into Moscow the following morning that we had to lug our own luggage off the train.

This was not the hangover cure we needed. Ouch.

 

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