See You Next Wednesday
Friday, September 19
 
Ahoy, matey! 'Ave ye spied me Mizzenmast?

Sunday's role-playin' game session w' Cap'n Dave in charge o' the refitted Ship-o'-the-Line Dun-geons & Drag-ons was a barrel o' fun overrunnin' a motley crew of scurvy cultists an' their accursed undead henchmen. In contrast, Tu'sd'y's role-playin' game session w' Cap'n Jonothan o' the vessel Golden was a bit of a rum do. The crew were smartly quartered an' it took all of three rolls o' the bones to get me alter ego gassed into o-blivion, arr!. This set me up an evenin' of waiting for the rest of me shipmates to join me in the arms o' Morpheus. Young Jim was kind enough to have a worse time of it than I, not only did his imaginary friend abandon sensibility on the heels o' me own, but he was divested of one hundred thousand points of experience aforehand, arr!

Yestereve, meself an' my ol' ma, dropped anchor at The Australian Choreo-graphic Cen're to join an audience of the dancin' show Through t' Lookin' Glass, and a pleasant show it was too.

Did I fail t' mention the mighty Phoenix Pow'rpuff lasses were victorious in their netting-ball Grand Final aspirations, 'cause they were. When asked "did they did they did they win?" the fine feisty wenches responded "did we did we shit it in!", a soundbite not lost on the evenin' news broadcasting. (How'd they do it? Eeeasyyy!)
 
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This may not sound like the snappiest line from 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), but it evidently caught the imagination of John Landis, who has worked references to a mythical film of this name into most of his own movies - memorably as the grotty British skinflick watched by an assortment of lycanthropes and zombies in the climax of An American Werewolf in Paris [sic] (1981). Ghastly Beyond Belief, Neil Gaiman and Kim Newman

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Large balding wishful male anglo.

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