Friday, August 20

deifheid dinner delights

I was asked, just now, about the content of the conversation at the recent deifheid dinner. But I seem to have blotted out the memory, thank goodness.

The host was someone who can't bear to listen to anyone else talk. It was a good arrangement actually, because I can't bring myself to talk to someone who doesn't know how to listen. It all balances up.

Yes I was indeed under the table, though the talking was too loud to allow sleep. With a bit of luck I won't be invited back, so it wasn't a total waste of time.

The food, by the way, was torn up duck mixed with dry noodles. No sauce or seasoning as they're on a no-salt no-sugar health kick. To compensate, dessert was a dentist's delight from the supermarket. It all balances up, so I'm not one to complain. .


  1. Albert? These folk are an inspiration to me! I might start inviting folk round for dinner and feed them nothing but soup and home made bread with peanut butter, all washed down with home brew that tastes like rat's piss. I wonder how long they'd last before they were all under the table? Hotboy

  2. I say!

    Perhaps the conversation was about when Michael 'Whispering Death' Holding was bowling short at Brian 'Iron Man' Close, who chested each ball away?

    I find that that conversation crops up quite frequently at dinner parties.

    MM III

  3. Hotters. At least you put on a cabaret for guests. And you're not a deifheid. There, I've said it.

    Mingers. Sadly, it wasn't as interesting as that.