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Lindsay Brown
11 May 2013 @ 09:10 pm
Yet somehow I found myself watching ESPN for the Gonzalez/Burns fight. Neither have any particular charms to speak of so I certainly wasn't watching it for the reasons that Valentine implied (i.e.: undue salaciousness) and yet I couldn't find it in myself to turn it off.

Not being a fan or follower I have no insight other than it strikes me as odd that a man could be thoroughly dominated for seven rounds and then rally to win. Something rotten in the state of Denmark. There must be money to be made...

In less bloody news, I'm hoping to lure Vince to Cambridge to deal with my leoprid issue. Apparently he can do this without resorting to mass rabbit genocide. We'll see.
Lindsay Brown
05 May 2013 @ 08:21 am
Alas, still beset by rabbits. I'm at the point where I'm tempted to hire someone to come and do something about it, having just lost every last leaf of cress that I planted at the start of spring. Also considering getting a hothouse built because what the rabbits don't get is carried off by frost - the worrisome life of a country gentlemen.

Other than the latest episode of Man Vs Nature, I have been reasonably busy with the academic world as well as the various indulgences of my personal life. Started writing a paper on Syntactic Structures for the Journal of Linguistics that Mari thinks could be weighty enough for a book. Trying to decide whether I want to lose that much of my life while I write it. Managed a 3 mile run. Looked at more horses than I care to recollect.

In between, I managed to secure some time to go watch James McAvoy in Trance. Have any of you seen it? It's a laughable art heist with unwarranted onscreen Brazilian but could possibly watch McAvoy read nursery rhymes and still enjoy myself.
Lindsay Brown
Life bumbles on. To my great surprise I've missed the gym this past few weeks so went for a run of my own accord this morning. I only made it around the garden twice - but as our garden is reasonably substantial, I consider it a good effort on my part.

Besides exerting myself physically I've been exerting considerable willpower in denying Valentine a housemaid. While the concept is sound, I know from years of hiding things from my mother that the reality is less than pleasant. Feel free to add your reason to mine.

Finally, yesterday I found a spot by the rear gate where some bastard rabbits have set up camp - I knew something was getting into my spring vegetables. Seems I'm doomed to be beset by native fauna wherever I sprout roots. Mari suggests I try to catch them and release them in the woods - if I catch them, they're more likely to be released into the afterlife. Wish them luck.
Lindsay Brown
14 April 2013 @ 10:08 am
Being old enough for Section 28 to directly affect my formative years, I can't say I'm particularly sad that Thatcher has passed on. Her legacy in many respects is a negative one - I often wonder how much less repressed men of my age and ilk would be if there wasn't a law passed which prohibited teaching homosexuality as an acceptable lifestyle while we were teenagers. At any rate, I won't be grave dancing, but I won't be lionising her, either.

On the immediate down side is co-existing with students who like to deliver political rhetoric. If I hear another spotty teen wax angry on what was done before they were even born, I might do something irresponsible.

On the immediate upside, been listening to lots of records from my 80s catalogue. Whatever else Thatcher did, she certainly prompted a lot of talented people to make music.

Lindsay Brown
06 April 2013 @ 07:33 pm
As the undoubtedly appreciated but decidedly shabby present I managed to fashion for Valentine continues to shame my sense of what is right and wrong, I decided to turn my hand to jewellery design to address the issue. When I say design, I mean that I had a meeting with a jeweller and told him what I wanted, then gave him some diamonds. This counts as making something if you ask me.
The resultCollapse )

Other than trying my hand at something new, things have settled down in Cambridgeshire. I'm thinking of stabling a second horse so I can actually ride with Valentine during the summer months. If it ever arrives, which remains in doubt.

What are you doing, then?
Current Mood: satisfiedsatisfied
Lindsay Brown
24 March 2013 @ 09:15 am
Hello from Brussels. Minor mishap with the flight out, but arrived yesterday as planned and met with everyone for the boys weekend. Staying in the Kempinski, which was met with derision by Danny. Probably would have had us in a Travelodge if he could have managed it, cheap bastard.

At any rate, the weather is pissy and Ty and Danny are still asleep so having a shufty around the internet while I wait for them to get up. Found this: http://www.nme.com/news/the-smiths/69301?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=agyness Click if you're a Morrissey fan, don't bother if you aren't.

Bit of a change from fishing, anyway.
Current Location: Bruxelles
Current Mood: anxiousanxious
Current Music: What Difference Does It Make - The Smiths 1983 Studio Record
Lindsay Brown
19 March 2013 @ 08:58 am
Surprisingly, as of this morning and according to Valentine's tape measure, that is now my trouser size. Pleasant by-product of much expended effort. Starting to feel like I'm getting on top of things.

The last week has been reasonably busy while I tie up the ends on a couple of projects. Working with people that you don't know very well is a bit disconcerting, but even I have to admit that it is satisfying to watch a the next lot of young minds develop right before your eyes. Born teacher, it seems.

Now I just have to sit back, hope it doesn't continue to snow, and watch it all come together. Might cook a roast.
Current Location: Cambridge
Current Mood: pleasedpleased
Current Music: Robber Dub, The Clash
Lindsay Brown
Took a quick trip to Connie's to see Mum for Mother's Day - should have thought twice about any effort to be a good son considering that she and Connie had ganged up and dug out every Mother's Day gift that my primary school hands made her to greet me with. This is what happens when you give in and make something for your significant other - he tells your mother and it sends her into a fit of nostalgia. Of special note was the noodle necklace I made for her in prep approximately forty seven thousand years ago - holding up quite well, I might add, you can't fault my craftsmanship.

On the plus side, the trip got me out of training on Monday. This resulted in an excruciating workout on Tuesday - it takes a special kind of sadist to insist on jumping jacks. Still, I'm managing to do it without coughing up a lung so progress of some sort is being made? Though Valentine hasn't yet swooned in my presence. Perhaps just a matter of time, etc.

Managed to catch up with Sasha last week after too long a wait - especially since the visit consisted of a spin on the Moto Guzzi then a leisurely lunch. Be nicer if the roads were a bit less icy, but made for some excitement on the corners. Some time in the PM I dropped her back to the studio for further witchery (can only presume this is how songs are written).

Trip to Brussells in two weeks with Ty to look at some things of interest... be about time for a boys weekend, hm? Can't wait.
Lindsay Brown
03 March 2013 @ 10:29 am
There's a rumour spinning around campus that Prof. Brown enjoys going to the gym in order to observe the beautiful young student population of Cambridge. Oh yes. I am priapico, priapicarse, priapicissimus, I am dangerously aroused by vapid whippets. Send me to Reading, post haste.

Pleasant Valentine's Day (of birth, not love) though suffered a crushing defeat on the track. Hopefully this isn't a precursor to being beaten when we have our actual rally race. Though to be fair, I may fight harder knowing the stakes aren't just another bowl full of hula hoops.

Congratulations also to our famous friend, Sasha, on her win. Commiserations to our other favourite friend on her loss. One door opens, etcetera.
Lindsay Brown
Gym misery continues apace – while Valentine swans about eating canapés with chirpy ex girl-groupers, I’ve been mastering running towards nowhere specific without falling flat on my face. When permitted the grace of standing still I’ve been persuaded into doing something called dead lifts (obviously named for the feeling you get after doing them). When I’m permitted to eat, I have to eat things that I used to mock Ellie for eating. Honestly, what the fuck is hommous? I’ve never been so miserable in my entire life.

Then, as if the generic, non-specific torture of the general floor wasn’t enough by way of humiliation, my trainer has insisted that I take group classes in between torture sessions. Because the gym I’ve joined is connected to Cambridge, I’m doing these classes with twenty something children in nipple baring vests who give me sideways glances full of horrified pity. They ride fixed gear bicycles and meet in the adjacent coffee shop afterwards for a green juice and rollie cigarette after each session. They don’t know how lucky they are. By the time I’ve emerged from that hell of salty exertion and disinfected rubber floors, I’m panting so hard that I’m afraid I’ll breathe in any cigarette whole. No one at the gym has anything approaching hips, except for me. I’ve spent more in the dairy section of Waitrose than these people have paid for their membership. Or maybe not. Group classes are like taking out a mortgage. At first you think it will be cheap, but then you see the direct debit records. Nobody talks about the cost.

The instructor is a six foot glistening freak with lines on his body that are alien to most people and a pair of the deadest eyes I've ever seen. Feel the burn, he says. I want to set him on fire.

I remind myself that this is for a reason.
The reward is worth the sacrifice.
Wipe the bench down and repeat.
Current Location: Cambridge
Current Mood: tiredtired
Current Music: Nothing with a beat