June 21st, 2002

2020 lack of vision

tangential connections to popular culture

Walked past two dumb men trying to burn a Brazilian flag on the way into work this morning. They couldn't get it to catch. Five flabby women with frosted hair stopped and cheered as he repeatedly flicked the lighter, trying and failing and trying and failing to get the flag to catch light. Is that funny or horrible?

Hmm. Did you know there's such a thing as canal water skiing? Apparently there's going to be a display at the Canal Festival this weekend, between Aristotle Lane and Hythe Bridge. Anyone else thinking, blimey, that's a bit narrow?

Alternative suggestion for Sunday: "Come and find out more about chickens at the annual show of the South Oxon Poultry Club." Or not. Though I've been thinking a lot about chickens recently, as it's my only point of connection with Big Brother.

The following weekend's entertainment is obvious: the self-explanatory hobbyhorsefest.has.it. I expect Rowland will be there, eh dotty?

Then, of course, there are the latest attempts to find a contemporary, practical use for Oxfordshire's quarries. I don't think I'll be able to get my sh*t together in time to see the 18ft dinosaur tonight, though, *sigh*. Maybe the 15ft Sandman in a fortnight's time. (There's a picture, if you follow the link, but don't expect glamorous goth boys!)

I bought some white hair dye, on the ground that it's the one colour that won't run when worn to Glastonbury (I wore purple one year, and it was rapidly a sorry sight). Was that smart or dumb?

Oxford was full of traditional dancers at lunchtime. It mixed strangely (but not in a bad way) with Midfield General. The flower seller said something to me but my head was too full of swirling skirts and giant robots. I should buy some flowers from him to say sorry.
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