Is it not most often so, when we follow the Eagles?

[sovay]

I'm not dead; I'm just not sleeping, which has rather the same effect on my conversation.

But I got a postcard in the mail from the porta dextra of Eboracum, so things could be worse.

Comments

[sovay]

The porta dextra of Eboracum has been writing you? The stones speak! I'm awed.

. . . One of us is going to have to turn that into a poem, you know. Even if it should properly have been written by Rudyard Kipling.

[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

Hey, you're great at -mancy. Can you raise him?

Wouldn't his be wonderful?

Nine

[strange-selkie.livejournal.com]

He's gone. Could get you Jack, though. Poor Jack.

[sovay]

Could get you Jack, though. Poor Jack.

"Not with this wind blowing, and this tide . . ."

[strange-selkie.livejournal.com]

Well, my chilled innards will be spending the night in Loos...

Bring your specs to the front, kiddies.

[sovay]

Well, my chilled innards will be spending the night in Loos...

Ack: sorry. Have a Victorian soldier's hangover; it's theoretically possible to recover from one of those.

It's pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B.
For drunk and resisting the guard

Peter Bellamy, "Cells"