I saw a man walking a llama down Elgin Street tonight. No, really. The moon was hanging low and full with pre-eclipse anticipation and this man’s llama was listlessly grazing on a patch of grass next to Beaurepaires.
This was thrown into sharp relief last night when I stood too close to a mantlepiece candle at a party last night and my hair caught fire.
The first I knew of it was a wild buzzing coming from the back of my head. My initial thought was that a cicada or locust or (I’m clearly not much of an entomologist) similar critter had landed on me. Thankfully, the chums I was talking to by the fireplace realised that I was not, in fact, dealing with an arthropod interloper, but a follicular conflagration, and exercised a measure of haste in dealing with the burning PVP.
Is it the mystifying need for the sedentary 'athletes' to wear big-name sportswear brand tracksuits? Is it the fact that it's so irresistably Revenge of the Nerds that these guys have made a lucrative career (pun; intended) from Starcraft and are now improbable pin-up boys? Is it the fact that I'm an inveterate geek?