Sloe Gin Goes Fast (Clever!)

Let's see now, today I...
-Got up at 11am.
-Had some orange juice, then took a long walk along the coast.
-Came back into Uncle Phil and Aunt Liz's house for five hours of good food, drink, stories and two hilarious looking boxer dogs. They are named Harvey and Webster, and you know they are a good breed of dog because they are big enough to wrestle with, while friendly enough to be left around small children. Plus their default expression make's me want to burst out laughing almost every time.
-...recharged my iPod?

I normally wouldn't consider this a productive day, but this time I will. After a brief strut across my internet catwalk, I reckon I'll go read some more of my Hunter S. Thompson by the seaside. Take that, productivity!

Broadstairs has done wonders for me. Yesterday I pierced the thick, stodgy veil of jetlag and felt like something other than Oliver The Lump for the first time since I got here. I felt more like Oliver the Hustler or Oliver the Writer (or Oliver the Setting Himself Up for an Easy Joke) and proceeded accordingly. But then, it would be hard not to get inspired when the English channel is maybe one hundred feet from your bedroom. Two nights in a row I've been treated to a full moon reflecting off the water. This has been rendered equal parts lovely and horrifying, thanks to H.P. Lovecraft - but I'll take it.

I have, of course, forgotten to bring my bloody camera. Ah well, my Aunt Liz has made it clear I'm welcome up here any old time. This is a great resource to have for sure...for as much as I love big cities, I do need a break from them once in a while and Carp is now too far to just sling myself over for a weekend. This particular break is exactly what I needed....and maybe what I should have done during my first few days in the country - instead of trying to be super productive during every waking moment. When I roll back into Tottenham sometime Tuesday, I shall have the fire in my belly necessary to begin shaking my delicious behind under the noses of many a prospective employer. Hopefully enough to justify heading out to Redding next weekend.

Or at least the purchase of a new pair of pants. Three pairs of blue jeans and two dress pants are not enough for this fashion-minded man (who might have been able to pack more pants, but size fourteen shoes take up a lot of room!). Anyways...more to report when I am not stuffed to the point of bursting.

We are all filthy foreigners to someone...
1) Shoe sizes in the UK are all generally one size smaller than the North American equivelent. Ergo my size 14 is a 13 here. Man, that is boring...I'd better follow up with something true, yet engaging and classy.

2) Bare tits, you will see plenty of them in the weekly SUN. I suppose this does put it slightly ahead of our own much beloved Ottawa Sun, the only boobs it features being our local politicians!

See what I did there?

3) Ladies, if you are the only woman within sight and you overhear men (of any age) using the phrase "moose" or "shot-putter" while looking in your general direction...give them a smack. They've earned it.