Tuesday, March 09, 2004
No bed of roses
Well, I seem to have survived the anniversary. We opted in the end for a movie – a chick flick inevitably – Under the Tuscan Sun. The only problem was that I had also arrange to go to the rugby at Newlands, so getting out of the Newlands chaos, back to home, then back to the movies in about an hour was pushing it a bit. We made it though, and I just about got away with it.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Just a few beers.” Five or six, I think. That one for the road wasn’t such a great idea.
“Hmmm…”
A change of scene, some popcorn, a fluffy movie, and everything is fine. The movie wasn’t great – enjoyable enough, and an easy way to spend a couple of hours, but the kind of thing for a Sunday night video rather than a full-on movie-going experience. You have to pick your targets more carefully when, because of kids and logistics, a trip to the movies is such an event.
Of course, if I thought the game at Newlands was crap, which it was, then the game from Twickenham that I had recorded to watch when I got home was awful. Much more engaging as a game, and with a far superior standard of rugby, but a crap result. The English lineout was shockingly bad. Steve Thompson couldn’t hit a barn door with a bazooka. But Belle de Jour was at a rocking party, so it wasn’t all bad this weekend for English hookers.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Just a few beers.” Five or six, I think. That one for the road wasn’t such a great idea.
“Hmmm…”
A change of scene, some popcorn, a fluffy movie, and everything is fine. The movie wasn’t great – enjoyable enough, and an easy way to spend a couple of hours, but the kind of thing for a Sunday night video rather than a full-on movie-going experience. You have to pick your targets more carefully when, because of kids and logistics, a trip to the movies is such an event.
Of course, if I thought the game at Newlands was crap, which it was, then the game from Twickenham that I had recorded to watch when I got home was awful. Much more engaging as a game, and with a far superior standard of rugby, but a crap result. The English lineout was shockingly bad. Steve Thompson couldn’t hit a barn door with a bazooka. But Belle de Jour was at a rocking party, so it wasn’t all bad this weekend for English hookers.
