Event Horizon

Right so, the postings from the wonderful wacky world of the SWF will be brought to you through the random mediums of interpretive dance and Sisters Of Mercy unofficial release titles… you lucky people!!! This may not be a nightly occurrence, of course, so lap it up while you can… these golden nuggets verily drip from my pen! Say what?

This very evening I found myself at the first annual (hopefully) Arnopp-Beckley Scribomeet… and I know you’re all just itching to know just how things went… sadly I fear you may be pinning your hopes on the wrong person for I, your humble narrator, did shamefully fall victim to the parlous evils of intemperance and, dare I say, strong drink… So tonight I can only express simple opinions as befits one to whom the torpor of liquor has tainted; for whom the fingers are ever so slightly numbed and the brain most likely addled! Or coddled.

The basics: this was, to put it mildly, a lovely evening spent in the company of many lovely people, oft-times too numerous to mention but I’ll try to give creditable names to them what has it due!

There was a veritable smorgasbord of Scribonauts… a Jason Arnopp, who you must all know by now as the fine and stand-up gentleman that he is, to whom, sadly, I may have mentioned that some Dr. Who episodes could have been better than maybe they were- yet as such a fine and stand-up gentleman he declined to enrich me with the lamping that I so rightly deserved; Piers Beckley, another gentleman of some renown; Lee Thomson, who looks nothing like his photo and presumably is in cognito (I won’t give away as what); Stuart Perry, yet another gentleman; Gavin Williams, what knows stuff; Dom Carver, who I regaled with too much information but mainly bored with abundant tales of crashed cars; Jennifer from Ireland, with whom I talked at length about religion and regionalization; Sara of Italy; Jeremiah; Ricky; Cecile, Isabelle, Tony, Steven and quite possibly literally hundreds* of other rather lovely and altogether spiffing people whose names I either didn’t catch or can’t quite, at this late hour, remember…

…of course, I knew there would be an embarrassing point and, yeah verily, I did find it! Nobody mentioned that the chap standing right there in front of me was the Adrian Mead! So what did I talk of? Offal, mutton and, specifically, why people weren’t eating enough of it! It was some time later that the irrepressible Arnopp told me with whom I was speaking and mentioned that I may be recalled for all time as the Mutton Man. Over all analysis of the night’s pre-festival festivities? Three words…

…it was good!!!

…and now to bed with the hope that I still don’t get hangovers! I feel the fear of meeting people nigh-on drip away from me in a molten fashion! Be good!

PS: One of the cats gave me a snide look as I came in... they don't like to see me in an unfit state for feeding duties!

*Not literally hundreds!!! But literally some…