It’s a Bank Holiday weekend here, which means … um … nothing really. People are off work on Monday and shops are closed, but there’s no purpose. We’re not celebrating anything.
CheeseBoy returned from Sharm el Sheikh very brown and with the mother lode of fags for me, so it was a successful vacation. And Boo made an excursion to Costco’s and got me lots of Kirkland Coffee, so I’m all set for watching it piss down rain all weekend. I’m stocked up on the two basic food groups- coffee and fags.
A so so week here. Gardener Guy came to chop down the forest of green stuff that grew over the winter. He is so damned hunkalicious; he even sweats sexy. It’s well worth the £’s just to eye his tush in those tight little jeans. Getting rid of the green shit is a bonus.
I went to an Aviv Evening. That’s a social club through Syn. It’s sort of a get together, with coffee and dessert, and an activity or game. We were asked to pick a famous Jewish person and list ten facts about them, beginning with obscure and getting easier. I picked Barbra Streisand and thought I’d stump the group, at least until the ‘easy’ facts, like ‘played Fanny Brice’. (That wasn’t really one of my facts.) Anyway, Fact #5 – Dated Pierre Trudeau – had Tina shouting ‘Barbra!’ I did amazingly well; that visit to the Museum of American Jewish History paid off and I knew a lot of useless information about famous Jews. (Did you know Danny Kaye once owned the Seattle Mariners? I did.) I came in fourth place. I won a box of chocolate truffles.
Ray came for Scrabble and we had two really tough games. We each won one.
Oddly, the weather got positively Spring-like in the middle of the week. At least, what I think I remember Spring feeling like. I went out for lunch with Hazel to a charming pub along the Wey River called the Pelican. It was so sunny that we ate our fish & chips outside in the garden. I thought “It’s exactly for the ten days a year like this that I put up with the other 340… 360… 355 days!”
I got a flyer through my door this week (in the mail slot, right under the admonition ‘no solicitation’ no flyers, no junk mail’) inviting me to a seminar at the Weybridge Library on Saturday afternoon by the Ahmadiyya Muslim Association on ‘Peace for All’. My first thought was ‘Shit! They know where I live!’ Then I calmed down and figured they put the flyers in everybody’s door, even the Neighbours from Hell. Well… maybe not theirs.
I talked Adriana into going with me and we moseyed over to the Library. There were, like, 6 Muslim guys hosting the event, but no women. We were instantly creeped out. One of them practically attached himself to my leg, following me around and handing me leaflets like ‘Some Frequently Asked Questions About Islam’.
“Trust me” I told the guy, “I don’t have any questions about Islam.”
It was almost as bad as letting a Jehovah’s Witness into your house. They were proselytizing very aggressively. Yeah. That worked out real well for Tamarin Tsarnaev’s stupid wife, didn’t it?
Bashir, my guide to Mohammed, invited me to visit the mosque in Malden. (He gave me his email address and his phone number; I did not reciprocate.)
I’ll add that to my list, right after cooking something that I grew and camping.