8/31/2004
 
When Sam announced that he was moving into an incredible apartment a stone’s throw away from Soho there were obvious grumblings from the other Scoobies as we tried against our worst natures to feel genuinely happy for him. Add to this the fact that Lorna and Olly took the flat next door (also amazing) and we were struggling. Then Luke becomes Sam’s flatmate.

Ah, Luke. When he (inevitably) discovers this blog he will have just cause to never talk to me again and perhaps rough me up a bit - but I guess it will teach him for not falling in love with me.

Trying an “if you can’t beat them” approach I decided to drop by and hang out with Sam in his new pad on Sunday afternoon. When I arrived I discovered that almost all the other Scoobies had had the same idea. We all looked a little guilty, mostly due to our remorseless bitching only days before. The apartment was even better than he had let on. At one point the evening sun actually licked the tastefully decorated walls.

The one fault of the place was the ancient wrought iron death elevator – the sort that has completely open mechanics and mesh instead of doors. I’ve always had a slight phobia about lifts after seeing The Silence of the Lambs but now I can add "fear of elevators where you can see the cogs turning and the metal tomb suspended by a thin cord over five floors of a vertical drop" to the list.

The Scoobies and I settled in quickly, thinking it about time Luke learnt that he’d inherited a group of lazy-ass twenty something’s who would mooch about his house in their underwear (during the middle of the day and for no particular reason) mumbling something about Squatter’s Rights whenever they are asked to move the used cups to the sink. I was pretty busy watching endless DVD’s of Will and Grace (which, I can confidently say has only four jokes - Karen is bitchy mean, Jack is insensitive, Will wears sweat pants, Grace has no boobs), but still managed to learn a few things about Luke:

● Even relaxing in his own home Luke has the focused air of somewhere who has an important meeting starting in 10 minutes. I had to stop an impulse to follow him out each time he left the room to see where he was going.

● A staggering amount of well groomed young men drop around to say “hi” to him during any 24 hour period.

● He has a habit of repeating the punch lines during Will & Grace.

● I know more words to Jesus Christ Superstar than he does. Which considering he’s a Musical Theatre actor is pretty shoddy.

But fear not, I did achieve something else over the long weekend – I gave up smoking once and for all. So. Help. Me. God.
 

Yeah, yeah, email me

ARCHIVES
09/2003 / 10/2003 / 11/2003 / 12/2003 / 01/2004 / 02/2004 / 03/2004 / 04/2004 / 05/2004 / 06/2004 / 07/2004 / 08/2004 / 09/2004 / 10/2004 / 11/2004 / 12/2004 / 01/2005 / 02/2005 / 03/2005 / 04/2005 / 05/2005 / 06/2005 / 07/2005 / 08/2005 / 09/2005 / 10/2005 / 11/2005 / 12/2005 / 01/2006 /


sites what I write on:
londonist

sites what I wrote on:
über: I haven't been completely honest
somewhat.org: on the up

blogs:

christopher
elizabeth

boys:

tlc
homorobotic
sex, lies & videotape
diamond geezer
vivid blurry
raw youth
secret simon
learn swedish
the rob log
why god why
a beautiful revolution

girls:

dooce
afrochic
belle de jour
pound
jems web
lindsayism

pulse:

timmy ray
link bunnies
link machine go

fantastic blogs:

a light fantastic
a chair fantastic
a rug fantastic
a kitchen fantastic
a bed fantastic
a clock fantastic

tools:

life hacker
i hate work
hi-gloss film production



Powered by Blogger
Listed on Blogwise

Listed on BlogShares
Subscribe to my feed

« #Veggie Blogs?»

«#Blogging Brits?»