w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Today's lyric:

"Our brief acquaintance was such a mistake
Now it seems more like a sentence
Or something you always had to fake
This magic moment concludes when they turn out the light
It's not the days when you leave me
But all I fear are the nights
But all I fear are the nights."

Elvis Costello: "It's time"
From the album: "All this useless beauty"

Number One Son, fresh back from the deepest South West, arrived back from the local, ably abetted and propped up on both sides by his mate and his mate's girlfriend, both desperately trying to keep him in the vertical plane.

So instead of retiring to our pit - tired from last night's practice Moonwalk (it's for charidee, Witchy) and a nice chilli dinner - 'emergency' bottles of wine were located, vented and raided. Not having seen them all since the now customary Christmas Night gathering of both kids' friends (at which I triumphed in the Trivial Pursuit marathon, while seeing off the lion's share of a bottle of Smirnoff Blue - hah!) we eventually crashed out way too far the wrong side of midnight for a school day, leaving them to wreck the kitchen in the usual attempt to thwart the munchies.

Around the same time, Dick - on his first ever world cruise - was sat in the ship's main bar, feeling decidedly sorry for himself.

At some point, the ship's doctor - finally relieved from his ministrations to the rich and elderly - came off duty and sought the bar and a well-earned nightcap.

So unhappy was Dick that he resolved to disturb the beleaguered doctor's precious free time.

"I'm not seasick, Doctor, but since I came on board, I've had a queasy stomach and it's ruining my holiday. Is there anything you can prescribe for me?"

"Do you have a nut allergy?" asked the man.

"No, I don't think it's that?" replied Dick.

"No, no, I wasn't asking for that reason" said the doctor "it's just that, believe it or not, I have the same problem, and find that a Daiquiri (strangely, pronounced 'dakkary') cocktail, mixed with a liqueur made from chicory, really settles my stomach?"

"Right" said Dick - desperate to try anything - "two of those, please George."

Well, it only worked, didn't it. Next day, Dick was able to start enjoying the culinary delights of the ship's many fine restaurants, and their fine wines too.

He was also able to swim in the huge outdoor pool up on deck, without fear of embarrassing himself in the water. And - because he no longer had to keep running to the toilet - he was able to discourse with the laydeez. Things were looking up.

But then, one evening, he went into the bar to order two drinks for himself and his new-found friend, for when he came off duty. "Usual, please, George."

"I'm sorry" said the barman "but between you and the Doctor, you've drunk all of the chicory liqueur. All I've got left of a nut-based drink is one made from hickory. It's darker than your favourite tipple, but just as nice."

"Ok" said Dick, a bit warily "we'll have two of those."

When the doctor finally came in, he eyed the drinks suspiciously.

"That's not a chicory Daiquiri Dick?"

"No, it's a hickory Daiquiri Doc."

I thang yew.