Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Monday, February 23, 2015
Friday, February 20, 2015
The cocktail and carrot reception had been underway for some time and the Wabbit waited for new recruits with a glass of welcoming aperitivo. He began to tire and thought of drinking it himself - when in hopped a likely candidate. "Welcome!" boomed the Wabbit. "Please partake of liquid refreshment." My name's Bunky," said Lapinette, taking the glass. "It's Bunky Green." "Our Carrot Club is your Carrot Club," said the Wabbit. Lapinette effected a male pose and looked around. "Isn't this a cocktail and carrot reception?" "Yes." said the Wabbit. "So where are the carrots?" "In the cocktails," smiled the Wabbit. They nodded amiably but the Wabbit nodded harder. "I was hoping to greet a few female recruits." Lapinette gulped and the Wabbit stared hard at her ears. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Lapinette thought fast. "The soccer stadium?" The Wabbit's face fell. "Perhaps you know of females with a passion for carrots." Lapinette grinned a lop sided grin. "All the females I know are interested in artichokes." "They don't like carrots?" asked the Wabbit. "I've really no idea," gasped Lapinette, draining her aperitivo much too quickly. The Wabbit took her glass. "Tell our members about yourself while I'll fix you another drink." He vanished and everyone turned to look at Lapinette. She adopted a solemn stance. "I was arrested during the Carrot Riots."
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
[Cynar is an liqueur flavoured with herbs and plants, predominantly artichokes. Laddish: a young man who behaves boisterously]
Monday, February 16, 2015
Friday, February 13, 2015
They gathered in a caffè by the river and waited for Skratch to arrive. In the interim, the Wabbit glared at Wabsworth and Wabsworth stared back. Lapinette tried to distract the Wabbit. "This is a nice place Wabbit, I didn't know it was here." "It's part of the Old Medieval Castle," muttered the Wabbit. Tipsy lurched against the wall and yelled, "Oh look it's Skratch!" Skratch purred his way into the throng. "Well that was quite an adventure." "What kind of adventure, though?" grinned Jenny. The Wabbit finally smiled. "I expect you're going to tell us about narratological repetition." "Not at all," said Skratch. "I'm going to tell you that repetition is an untranslated unconscious message." Finally Wabsworth spoke. "It was my job to bring that to consciousness." Lapinette crossed her legs. "So what was the message?" Wabsworth nodded sagely. "We're all preserved as individuals from moment to moment and that's repetition." "Who's buying the drinks?" yelled Tipsy. "Looks like John Paul Sartre." said Skratch. The Wabbit winked broadly. "Then we may have to wait a while, so I'll get them." He made a secret sign and glasses tinkled in the kitchens. "How did you do that?" asked Lapinette. "Practice," said the Wabbit. Lapinette looked sceptical because when it came to attracting the attention of waiters, the Wabbit was hopeless. "I come here every day," confessed the Wabbit.