Lunch time of champions

Met keefybabe and lindabird at the Broadway hotel, which is the only decent pub in this here neck of the woods, this lunch.

lindabird had been to Wakey to join a Agency who would put her forward for Fujistui (a highly respected martial arts programme in these er parts) and IBM ( a well known maker of Nuclear missiles “our brand is our name”).

keefybabe couldn’t stop droning on about his new Mac, and subverted many conversations. He forced me to return his cds at gunpoint (the End: Sounds of Disaster and Censor “Empire Holds Down”) to which I gleefully capitulated and pressed Mastodon “Leviathan” and Dilligenger Escape Project “Miss Machine” into his hot sticky paws.

Thoughts and conversation turned to breasts, with the awesome revelation that keefybabe is hypnotised by them. I revealed also that when ever I go out these days I go out in a plastic protective bubble which gentlely dissolves over night, leaving beer my only salvation to a world of shocking stupidity.

They ordered lunch, so I was able to hijack talk onto the wildly popular topics of Bunnies and smart linoleum floors. Munching burgers, but leaving the salad ( a move they will regret in more advanced years) they were only able to nod and make positive noises.

Despite manfully downing 2 pintslindabird was able to drive keefybabe back to his mirrored prison (aka work) and to my home of joy.

The cats celebrated my homecoming and promptly fell asleep.

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