One of the groovier things about riding a motorcycle is that as one passes, one experiences first hand the natural efluviance of the environment. The smell of flowers, freshly cut grass, curries slowly simemring in giant copper pots. It's luvly.
And then you get behind a garbage truck.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Two firsts have just occured: I've managed to use the phrase "the agoney of choice" in a sentence; and I now have to choose between watching the rugga (Springboks v Wallabies) on the telly and the kaioshung leg of the San Miguel Asion 9-ball tournament. The latter is the result of having satellite - I've never had the luxury before. Oh for a simpler better time when all we had to amuse ourselves was state sponsored propaganda. Perhaps I'll find solace in the fact that the commentary is equally as bad in either case. I don'nt mean the rugby. I mean the pool.