Midnight not a sound from the pavement

APPARENTLY I don't put enough disclaimers at the forefront of my notes explaining that my spelling has always veered more to the creative and artistic rather than the accurate. A certain brother of mine who shalll remain nameless commented on my terrible grammar as if I was proposing myself as some sort of verbose genius(which I am, of course)-to my amusement said brother was slurring beautifully at the time and talking round in wonderful twirling circles of befuddlement, so it took the edge off his critisism a smidge.So, dear readers for those of you that find my introductions unclear I shall speak in plain and simple english(without digression of any kind unless this counts...which it doesn't). These notes are not interesting, they are for my own venting of daily frustrations or the sharing of events with friends(nice friends who know that my intended grammar is imaculate if not my actual grammar-this is not a digression). Anyway, damn it I've bored myself before I have even begun, how very irritating but I will try to persevere for your sake dear reader. I had a lovely weekend in the land of Andover and managed to attend one of the two beer festivals I had planned to go to(the first was cancelled due to rain and postponed til September...genius).I found the whole experience not unlike the last scene in Titanic when the old lady dies(sorry if you haven't seen it, but lets face it...it's Titanic)and ends up walking down the stairs with all the people she ever met surrounding her. I mean obviously I wasn't dead(to my knowledge) but I kept looking around and thinking "god, I went dancing with her when I was five" or "jesus, that woman looks just like Vernon Kay"(I would never be so canny as to think that without having been prompted, it was two evil individuals making cruelly accurate observations). There was a lovely moment towards the end of the night when I found myself standing by the fire with Ian and thinking how cozy it all was but sadly it was marred by the fact that upon closer inspection there atop the pyre was the skewered head of a happless boar-kind of ruined the moment.Alas my friends I can talk no more(I hear your collective sigh and feel ashamed at my lack of enthusiasm this night)It is now twenty five to one, I have been awake a mere three hours this evening and yet I sense my bed calling to me(it's a jedi thing) good night and fare thee well