Lyndon Hood - Conquistador, Lower Hutt
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
I'm Sick of the Lies
Some of our regular readers – maybe all three – may have noticed that the other contributors to Fighting Talk have been somewhat reticent of late. Where are they? You might very well ask.
As a matter of fact, I've offcially run out excuses.
Hamish I sold to some passing slave traders for some bronze weapons and a quantity of hard liquor. We learned from the recent debate on the merits of libertarianism that no transaction leaves those involved worse off, but I flatter myself that I got the better part of the deal. I won't go into where Hamish ended up; let's just say he won't be walking home any time soon.
Oh, and some beads.
Holly has fallen victim to a powerful enchantment, having consumed a potion that was slipped - somewhat ironically - into a drink she had left unattended. And now she will sleep for one hundred years. Or she turned into a pumpkin. Something like that – I forget. That might hamper her taking up her Rhodes Scholarship, but I don't imagine an idealistic girl like her would want to take charity from the founder of Rhodesia anyway.
Perhaps you've heard of the Dominion Post's Saturday Indulgence supplement. This impressively slim lifestyle section once devoted two pages - one of text and one displaying a map - and the cover to a coffee company's survey on which Wellington suburb drank which kind of coffee. It was quite probable that some suburbs had a sample size of, well, less than two.
For the last issue they sent a reporter on a wild-and-or-offally food challenge. Which reporter was, I assume, chosen for being the one who tried to hide behind the desk when volunteers were called for. She concluded (I paraphrase) with the tragically non-Fergus Hendersonish sentiment that, in these prosperous times, we're fortunate to be able to throw out everything except the fillet.
That this idea was implicitly condoned by a major newspaper so annoyed me that, just to make a point, I devoured Kelly, bones and all. Delicious.
I claim this blog by right of conquest. May God bless her and all who sail in her.
Some of our regular readers – maybe all three – may have noticed that the other contributors to Fighting Talk have been somewhat reticent of late. Where are they? You might very well ask.
As a matter of fact, I've offcially run out excuses.
Hamish I sold to some passing slave traders for some bronze weapons and a quantity of hard liquor. We learned from the recent debate on the merits of libertarianism that no transaction leaves those involved worse off, but I flatter myself that I got the better part of the deal. I won't go into where Hamish ended up; let's just say he won't be walking home any time soon.
Oh, and some beads.
Holly has fallen victim to a powerful enchantment, having consumed a potion that was slipped - somewhat ironically - into a drink she had left unattended. And now she will sleep for one hundred years. Or she turned into a pumpkin. Something like that – I forget. That might hamper her taking up her Rhodes Scholarship, but I don't imagine an idealistic girl like her would want to take charity from the founder of Rhodesia anyway.
Perhaps you've heard of the Dominion Post's Saturday Indulgence supplement. This impressively slim lifestyle section once devoted two pages - one of text and one displaying a map - and the cover to a coffee company's survey on which Wellington suburb drank which kind of coffee. It was quite probable that some suburbs had a sample size of, well, less than two.
For the last issue they sent a reporter on a wild-and-or-offally food challenge. Which reporter was, I assume, chosen for being the one who tried to hide behind the desk when volunteers were called for. She concluded (I paraphrase) with the tragically non-Fergus Hendersonish sentiment that, in these prosperous times, we're fortunate to be able to throw out everything except the fillet.
That this idea was implicitly condoned by a major newspaper so annoyed me that, just to make a point, I devoured Kelly, bones and all. Delicious.
I claim this blog by right of conquest. May God bless her and all who sail in her.
