Gay Nazi Sex Vicar in Schoolgirl Knickers Vice Disco Lawnmower Shock!
« PlasteredLes Bouches »

Lancaster, una città del nord Italia

  Thu 18th August 2011

Lytham with Kitty and Melissa

I spent yesterday in Lytham in the sparkling company of two classy birds, Kitty and Melissa.

Melissa has been plotting an venture for us which I can't help feeling enthusiastic about despite reminding myself that we have only as yet discussed its outlines. It involves exploiting both our shared ability to fill limitless hours talking about relationship travails, and our discrete talents. Melissa is an experienced marketing and media whizz; Kitty has heroically driven herself through some huge roadblocks, not of her own making, in the last few years, simultaneously whilst teaching in an environment that would defeat most people; I might be able to handle the prose's saturation and contrast controls.

Melissa has scoped out the competition down to the fiftieth page on Google: it's lamentable, and if this project comes off, our feeble rivals will shrink in the dazzle of Melissa-Kitty-Looby Ltd., of London, Lytham and Lancaster. We'll bring you more on this story later.

Tonight I'm off to the launch of a new local brewery, Cross Bay Brewery, which now brings to three the number of breweries in the city. Lancashire's becoming quite a gastronomic centre, what with the breweries, the three cider makers, the boar farm, the samphire, the shrimps and smoked herrings, the cheese, and most memorably, the rye and spelt bread from Silverdale.

The latter is sold on market days in Lancaster by a very attractive baker, a tall girl with dishevelled hair and a reluctance to smile. I imagine taking her by surprise mid-knead.

In fact, if you ignore the way that Lancastrians constantly search for clothes which attain a more profound nadir of ugliness, Lancashire, at least in one way, is becoming a little bit like northern Italy. Soon, it will be difficult to say which of the pictures below is of Lancaster, and which is of Turin.

A typical shop in northwest England



A typical shop in Northwest Italy


Comment from: Redbookish [Visitor]

Well, of course, I remember when Greggs was Birketts, even if I’m a soft Midlander now. But I had a nice chicken kebab thingy at that halal stall in the market on Saturday.

Thu 18th August 2011 @ 18:54
Comment from: [Member]

Birketts, there’s a blast from the past. As awful as their successors. Re the kebab, do you mean in Lancaster? You should come and say hello if you’re around. If you mean Sanaa’s Indian Food or whatever her/its name is, on the stall to the left of the fountain as you walk towards the post office, I agree, lovely.

Thu 18th August 2011 @ 22:33

Form is loading...

looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person

M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

"Looby is a left-wing intellectual who is obsessed with a) women's clothes and b) tits." -- Joy of Bex.

WLTM literate woman, 40-65. Must have nice tits, a PhD, and an mdma factory in the shed, although the first on its own will do in the short term.

There are plenty of bastards who drink moderately. Of course, I don't consider them to be people. They are not our comrades.
Sergei Korovin, quoted in Pavel Krusanov, The Blue Book of the Alcoholic

I am here to change my life. I am here to force myself to change my life.
Chinese man I met during Freshers Week at Lancaster University, 2008

The more democratised art becomes, the more we recognise in it our own mediocrity.
James Meek

Tell me, why is it that even when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a beautiful evening, or a conversation in agreeable company, it all seems no more than a hint of some infinite felicity existing apart somewhere, rather than actual happiness – such, I mean, as we ourselves can really possess?
Turgenev, Fathers and Sons

I hate the iPod; I hate the idea that music is such a personal thing that you can just stick some earplugs in your ears and have an experience with music. Music is a social phenomenon.
Jeremy Wagner

La vie poetique has its pleasures, and readings--ideally a long way from home--are one of them. I can pretend to be George Szirtes.
George Szirtes

Using words well is a social virtue. Use 'fortuitous' once more to mean 'fortunate' and you move an English word another step towards the dustbin. If your mistake took hold, no-one who valued clarity would be able to use the word again.
John Whale

One good thing about being a Marxist is that you don't have to pretend to like work.
Terry Eagleton, What Is A Novel?, Lancaster University, 1 Feb 2010

The working man is a fucking loser.
Mick, The Golden Lion, Lancaster, 21 Mar 2011

The Comfort of Strangers

23.1.16: Big clearout of the defunct and dormant and dull
16.1.19: Further pruning

If your comment box looks like this, I'm afraid I sometimes can't be bothered with all that palarver just to leave a comment.

63 mago
Another Angry Voice
the asshat lounge
Clutter From The Gutter
Eryl Shields Ink
Exile on Pain Street
Fat Man On A Keyboard
gairnet provides: press of blll defunct, but retained for its quality
George Szirtes ditto
Infomaniac [NSFW]
The Joy of Bex
Laudator Temporis Acti
Leeds's Singing Organ-Grinder
The Most Difficult Thing Ever
Strange Flowers
Trailer Park Refugee
Wonky Words

"Just sit still and listen" - woman to teenage girl at Elliott Carter weekend, London 2006

Bristol New Music
Desiring Progress Collection of links only
The Rambler
Resonance FM
Sequenza 21
Sound and Music
Talking Musicology defunct, but retained

  XML Feeds

Social CMS engine

©2024 by looby. Don't steal anything or you'll have a 9st arts graduate to deal with.

Contact | Help | b2evolution skin by Asevo | Free CMS