Bond calmly drank the remaining droplets in his martini and stood up to leave the table. 7 hours of intense scrabble would have left most men weary in mind and body but Bond was as alert as ever, quietly savoring the moment. The murmurs of the crowd had softened from the climatic moment when Bond, with a quiet confidence that masked his inner relief at having bested the master at his game, laid out his winning effort – Lymphadenopathy. As he made his way to the massive oak doors, he was keenly aware of the fact that he had reduced the assembled crowd, made up of some of the most powerful men in the world, to doe-eyed acolytes. Their women, though able to have anything – or anyone – at a snap of their smooth, silk-covered fingers, stared at him with a collective lust that made the air of the cooled room grow thick with desire. Bond acknowledged none of this as he made his way towards Baroness von Boonentrap. He had done his duty tonight, and she would be his prize.
Suddenly, a bony grip seized Bond’s bicep. He turned, finding himself facing the diminutive figure of Maximillian de la Douche. “Congratulations, Mr. Bond,” said de la Douche, every syllable bearing a tension between aristocratic refinement and a suppressed wrath at having lost in one game what some countries generate in a year. “Perhaps you will do me the honor of a rematch at my home club in Alpenplacen,” extending between his blue fingers a calling card letterpressed on the finest stock in a dark regal shade. At once, Bond knew this was his man. Evil only knows Helvetica.
Tonight, i created the perfect gluten and sugar-free banana bread. (Yes, im one of those, Chucas). I have become obsessed with mastering the art of baking the perfect banana bread in the healthiest form possible, and i finally got it. This is how its done:
2 large ripe bananas
2 cups gluten-free flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup crushed walnuts
Some completely random quantity of flax seed, courtesy of health freak housemate Sheila
1/2 cup of water
3/4 cup honey
Mush, mix, beat, and stir all ingredients into a slimey glob of raw goodness, pour into a loaf-shaped dish and chuck in pre-heated oven. Bake til cooked. ie not raw. ie golden on top.
Serve to Vaf, Nays, Sheila, and virtually via Skype to Sabrina and Sean whilst still piping hot, with cold butter and a glass of milk.
Guess it's time for a walk Just to read some license plates What is autumn doing creeping up on me Going on the tube to scream when the train arrives Rubbing cress on my skin, God it smells so nice All the same I'd think i'll go on rolling up the hill If i'm lucky you won't see me
How days creep by In the greying sky How days creep by Come and ask me why
If you can make the coffee, i'll go and set up the DVD player. No no, i don't want any sugar. Remember i like my coffee strong! Yes, i will be able to sleep still. YES i will. Nazy, i think i know my own body. So, Igby? Or Shaun of the Dead? Igby it is. YUMMM. Ok, hurry up. Meet you in the living room in 2 mins? Check if we have any grapes and bring them too. Oi, your phone is ringing.
Its 4pm on a weekday, and Po and I are home alone from school.
Me: I wish we had something yummy to eat in the house.
Po: Oh, we have Timtams and chocolate.
Me: What? Where?
Po: Hold on.
*Little 8 year old Po proceeds to climb cupboards in the kitchen, stands on the stove, and reaches up to the small spice cupboards above the air vent. A gold box of belgian chocolates and a half-eaten packet of Timtams drop to the ground.*