Sunday 17 January 2016

Well did you evah?

A cynical churl writes:

Swell?  Huh.  No sex, illicit or otherwise; hardly any flirtation; no falling over; only one small red wine spillage on the carpet; no appallingly tasteless music, not even background sort; no dancing; no drunken insults...  All you did was eat brilliant food, drink about a bottle of wine each (on average), and sit around having funny, stimulating conversations about everything from speed bumps in the Avenue to the lesser-known works of Terence Rattigan; and it was all over by 11.30 , a mere six hours' worth ...   Call that a swell party?

A gratified host replies:

Yes.

5 comments:

  1. Well, I think you've got brilliant neighbours. And it's lonely here tonight.

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  2. I think my husband would like you—but he is no friend to blogs. He adores cabbage and right now is going through a Terence Rattigan phase. Or rather a Browning Version phase with special emphasis on the Greek lines from the Agamemnon on the chalkboard. (Do you consider the BV a lesser known work. If not, why not?) Best wishes to Z.

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  3. Hi Beryl, thanks for dropping by. I saw the BV years ago, and love his work (which is being rightly reappraised), but it was a passing snippet of a wide-ranging, possibly slightly inebriated conversation, prompted by an astute comment by Z on John Osborne, I seem to remember.
    She reads this, so your best wishes are hereby passed on.
    Oh, and where did the cabbage come in, exactly??

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  4. See your post of Jan 6. You scared me—I thought I read "red wine spillage' as"red cabbage", but no, you did write about cabbage. I am waiting for the shoes and ships and sealing wax.

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  5. Ah, that explains everything. Well, not quantum string theory, obvs, but...

    btw, when I was a child I thought sealing wax was spelt ceiling wax. I'm not sure what this explains.

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