The Christmas Rat
HELLo. It's been some time since I regurgitated on to this record of the life and times of Lord B Chunk and seeing as I told many people that I'd update it regularly I suppose I'd better get gurglin'. Init.
Life passes in Dublin, although not away however. Mind, the weather has been noxious enough to induce the suspicion of immanent no-zone arrival, an arrival forestalled by a clear blue day today.
Yesterday night I drank. The great overarching feature of Ireland is the quality of the publife, which is insuperable. On the other hand a weekend night out in Dub can be, at its nadir, like being trapped in a constant Watford. In fact my place of imbibation yestereve was strongly reminiscent of places I'd go when I was 14, which was exactly half my life time ago, but this time it was without cider or anything else from then.
The gracious Lord of Chunk will pass this Xmass in gracious Ireland. But to alleviate the terror caused by being chased from the supermarket by Kwality Kristmas Klassix something new and fresh must be done. To that end: instead of the banal, and quite frankly predictable act of erecting a Xmass tree, I shall instead create a 'Christmas Rat'.
The Christmas Rat will rest on a faux marble yet blatantly plastic graeco-romanesque mini pillar, its lovely cage will be adorned in the finest traditional baubles and it will be crowned with an Angel. The Rat will be handsomely treated and will eat as part of the family, though this is partly as a means to the end of making it so fat its body more or less fills the cage and its tiny head and arms move up and down rhythmically in time to 'Bartok: The Pneumatic Drill Remixes'.
Trivia: whilst discussing the maelstrom that is Dublin's main shopping area with my fine German flatmate Stefan (Leipzig Rules!) I observed that Dante had forgotten to include it in his depiction of the Inferno. Then, whilst reading the pedestrian books of the year list in that despicable shit-rag 'The Irish Times' I was delighted to discover that Madame X was complimenting JG Ballard on his identification of shopping malls with aforementioned Italian's rest home.
Toodle Pip! Happy Xmass and outstanding Nu Year, y'al.
Life passes in Dublin, although not away however. Mind, the weather has been noxious enough to induce the suspicion of immanent no-zone arrival, an arrival forestalled by a clear blue day today.
Yesterday night I drank. The great overarching feature of Ireland is the quality of the publife, which is insuperable. On the other hand a weekend night out in Dub can be, at its nadir, like being trapped in a constant Watford. In fact my place of imbibation yestereve was strongly reminiscent of places I'd go when I was 14, which was exactly half my life time ago, but this time it was without cider or anything else from then.
The gracious Lord of Chunk will pass this Xmass in gracious Ireland. But to alleviate the terror caused by being chased from the supermarket by Kwality Kristmas Klassix something new and fresh must be done. To that end: instead of the banal, and quite frankly predictable act of erecting a Xmass tree, I shall instead create a 'Christmas Rat'.
The Christmas Rat will rest on a faux marble yet blatantly plastic graeco-romanesque mini pillar, its lovely cage will be adorned in the finest traditional baubles and it will be crowned with an Angel. The Rat will be handsomely treated and will eat as part of the family, though this is partly as a means to the end of making it so fat its body more or less fills the cage and its tiny head and arms move up and down rhythmically in time to 'Bartok: The Pneumatic Drill Remixes'.
Trivia: whilst discussing the maelstrom that is Dublin's main shopping area with my fine German flatmate Stefan (Leipzig Rules!) I observed that Dante had forgotten to include it in his depiction of the Inferno. Then, whilst reading the pedestrian books of the year list in that despicable shit-rag 'The Irish Times' I was delighted to discover that Madame X was complimenting JG Ballard on his identification of shopping malls with aforementioned Italian's rest home.
Toodle Pip! Happy Xmass and outstanding Nu Year, y'al.
posted by Lord Bunty Chunk | 2:38 PM
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