Carnaval is in full swing but work continues apace at home, so I've grumpily shut myself off from all the fun - except for Saturday, when we went to a rock bar headlined by a very odd covers band, who alternated between Guns n' Roses and Phil Collins like it was the most natural thing in the world. Much fun was had in any case.
In other news this lettuce isn't going to eat itself, we had a few people round yesterday for, well, lettuce, and a rather spiffing new café has opened up down the road, providing a new venue to work on spreadsheets or whatever it is I do these days.
We speak soon for birthday merriment, but in the meantime here are two compilations and a phrase that's often associated with Gaby's coursemates these days - when the reality of an impending deadline (for example) hits home, it is said that the "water hits one's bottom", presumably in some kind of sinking ship scenario. Time to get building that ladder, basically.
Ciao for now,
Don't Fred on Me
PS: here's another article I enjoyed this week, about an odd-sounding nomadic worker's cult...
PPS: and I've already shared this Quincy Jones interview with Jub, but it really is something else.
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