Pimp my plough
We had a proper nerdy weekend at Avoca with Lari and Rob, featuring 2 games of Talisman, some Heroquest for the boys, lots of beer and lots of footie. We also coined the phrases "Pimp My Plough" and "Nerd Curious".
In the footie, England were rotten but Good Enough, Ukraine were brain-spliteringly dull, Germany looked ominously, ahem, efficient. I am getting full-on timezone brain-blur; I am unsure what day it is, am experiencing strange dreams about Philip Senderos' nose, and I have virtually stopped playing Baldur's Gate. I have also adopted the SMH term for your late-night world cup sofa duvet; the maradoona.
In film news, I squeezed in a viewing of The Last Laugh, a moving and technically brilliant silent movie with quite the worst tacked-on happy ending that you will ever see. He didn't die in a toilet, he inherited a fortune from a stranger who happened to be an eccentric, family-less millionnaire! Phew!
Is this the best time to be reading a 300 page 17th century poem? Probably not, but I'm still enjoying Paradise Lost in small doses.
Tote dat barge! Lift dat bale! Git a little drunk, An' you land in jail...