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Underground > Gathering >

MC/LA London stopover bash thing.

  
  

Page: 12(3)

 
 
Lilly Nowhere Late
04:36 / 02.04.03
Go with the ankle theory! Satin straps and all. The only thing is,
can I suggest that we move from Primrose hill to our local Clissold
Park? That way, when we get tired of the champagne(and it is
champagne, love!) we can just remove ourselves to my roof terrace or
one of a zillion pubs which will appreciate and prolly encourage our
well dressed-ness. O and don't forget the badmitton. Wicker baskets,
and red checked blankets. Lap dogs? Espadrills? oooo. I am calling in
a photographer.

And no I don't think Mel thinks it was any of the bebes who nicked the
bag, but you know how hard it is to get her out for the night already.
 
 
Tezcatlipoca
05:15 / 02.04.03
it'll be so thirties and beautiful. blazers and semi-formal wear. (haus, i may well be looking at you to set a good eg)

I was rather hoping that Haus could be persuaded to buttle for us.
 
 
pointless and uncalled for
05:33 / 02.04.03
Well thank you lilly, I will gladly be in attendance with Messers Nikon & Nikon.
 
 
Cosmicjamas
07:11 / 02.04.03
Another vote here for Clissold Park! If we could set up the picnic near the big house in the park we could get some very elegant photos.
 
 
The Strobe
10:05 / 02.04.03
Croquet. Yes. A wonderfully agressive and bitchy game, despite the serene exterior. Might lead to violence, mind you.

Can we go boating as well, at some point? And anybody got a hamper?
 
 
Bill Posters
10:18 / 02.04.03
I sincerely hope so. Otherwise our plans for a picnic might be rather... hampered. Ahem. (That wasn't one of my best, was it?)

Potus, can u do sepia prints for us?

I was rather hoping that Haus could be persuaded to buttle for us.

That sounds perfectly filthy. I'm sure it's not, but it does.

This plan is sounding more Secret History by the second, I love it. Is there a cliff in Clissold Park, and has anyone invited Knodge yet? I am having the most splendid, if rather un-PC daydream about Haus "looking for new fearns".
 
 
Tezcatlipoca
10:49 / 02.04.03
Huzzah! The ladies in acrynalin with fluffy white parasols, the gentlemen attired in striped trousers and waistcoats, and Knodge can be assigned punting-duty.

Now if I can only persuade Bill Posters and Paleface to join me on the river the first meeting of the Jerome K. Jerome re-enactment club can get underway...
 
 
Goodness Gracious Meme
11:54 / 02.04.03
A wonderfully agressive and bitchy game, despite the serene exterior.

Absolutely, that's what's so bloody glorious about it.

I'm so into this. However I do hope there will be none of this kind of behaviour:

My two friends said it was a pleasure to watch me. At the end of five minutes, I thought we ought to be pretty near the weir, and I looked up. We were under the bridge, in exactly the same spot that we were when I began, and there were those two idiots, injuring themselves by violent laughing. I had been grinding away like mad to keep that boat stuck still under that bridge.

I let other people pull up backwaters against strong streams now.

Hmm, must start thinking about summer suiting...
 
 
Bill Posters
12:10 / 02.04.03
I've never read Three Men In A Boat, though last time I went punting, I got pushed in. By a Christian. That was the last time I went on a church youth group weekend away, I can tell ya.
 
 
Lurid Archive
12:11 / 02.04.03
Already planning another meet, eh? I´m not surprised, as there were quite a few of you there on Saturday I didn´t get to speak to - at least not properly. Next time. *He says while looking out his Barcelona window*.
 
 
Goodness Gracious Meme
16:33 / 02.04.03
i'm so into this - help me someone do I come as Georgie Pillson or Gussie Fink Nottle?

decisions, decisions...
 
 
Tezcatlipoca
18:48 / 02.04.03
Might I suggest you pootle around to my place, BiP, where I have an excellent source of reference for your future attire in the form of the entire Jeeves and Wooster series' which I have recently, and - given my subsequent addiction - stupidly, purchased.
 
 
The Strobe
19:37 / 02.04.03
Did someone say punting?

Cambridge, folks: it's forty-five minutes and about ten-fifteen return from London; was £11 for me with student travelcard. And when I've finished exams, I have punts. Lots of punts. And river. And it's all frightfully civilised. But nowhere for people to sleep.

But if anybody fancies an afternoon punting excursion in mid-June when my exams are over...

it's a thought. It's all so coincidental it probably wouldn't happen.

I can, incidentally, punt passably well.
 
 
Kit-Cat Club
20:04 / 02.04.03
I can't punt at all but if anyone fancies Oxford they can have a jolly good laugh at me trying (until I tip everyone into the Cherwell...)
 
 
The Strobe
20:22 / 02.04.03
God, punting is the BEST IDEA EVER.
 
 
Tryphena Absent
20:26 / 02.04.03
A single breasted suit with a flower or handkerchief (clearly initialled I might add) in the left hand pocket would be quite suitable.

Satin straps- what a wonderful idea! I suppose I had better start planning my wardrobe for the occasion. A string quartet might be rather helpful but perhaps that's going a little too far and I'd better employ a ladies maid for the day. Someone has to serve the drinks.

Champagne- only if it's French and let's not be improper, I'm not sure that I can bend to such extravagance!

Punting requires a white dress with a little lace and I'll only do it if strawberries are involved. Hehe
 
 
STOATIE LIEKS CHOCOLATE MILK
06:58 / 03.04.03
Punting would so rock... sorry, punting would be exquisite.
 
 
Regrettable Juvenilia
07:36 / 03.04.03
They'll never civilise us alive, stoatie. Perhaps we can carry the provisions. Good savages.

The idea of getting out of London and onto the river appeals to me, too - it probably warrants its own thread. I'd go for Oxford over Cambridge, just cos I know it and you have the coaches which run very regularly during the day and all night - only about £7 return unless it's gone up...
 
 
Loomis
09:37 / 03.04.03
I can't believe you forgot this.
 
 
telyn
11:41 / 03.04.03
Oh yes. Pimms made properly is lurverrly. The first alcoholic drink I liked! What is being planned sounds like the most English outing - how to get absolutely wasted in the open air with minimum fuss and maximum style.
 
 
The Strobe
11:49 / 03.04.03
Wasted? How vulgar.

No dear, the idea is to get gently sozzled without ever noticing it.

For some reason, one time I went punting, I thought drinking neat Pimms whilst actually in the act of punting was a sensible idea. Hoo no. Nearly dropped the fucking pole.

Yes, the Oxford Tube is a wonderful thing.
 
 
pointless and uncalled for
13:41 / 03.04.03
Bill, I had the self same idea and indeed I should be bale to muster some sepia printing without too much difficulty.

I may even angle for some artificial ageing so that we can all claim to be a clan of immortal punters.

The Immortal Punters, now there's a name for a band.
 
 
Tezcatlipoca
14:05 / 03.04.03
Immoral Punters, surely?
 
 
adamswish
14:15 / 03.04.03
A wonderfully agressive and bitchy game

but surely it's portrail in the film "Heathers" was merely a metaphor for the main characters of the piece.

Just can't believe a game that this empire was built on could be as bad as you've said.
 
 
Tryphena Absent
14:20 / 03.04.03
I prefer ammoral punters. June sounds good, everyone prepared for a spot of June punting?
 
 
Kit-Cat Club
17:12 / 03.04.03
It always rains in Oxford in June, because that's when everyone finishes their exams... on the other hand, if you time it right (and decide on Oxford rather than Cambridge) you might get me on my viva day, in which case I'll have to come in sub-fusc. Please don't... I hate my gown...
 
 
The Strobe
18:40 / 03.04.03
If you get me post 26th June, I can come over in my subfusc, furry hood and all, muaha. Not a big fan of gowns, but I love hoods.

I didn't say croquet was bad! It's fantastic! It's the bestest game ever, but no-one quite realises just how violent it can get.
 
 
Loomis
06:30 / 04.04.03
I see, Paleface: when kids today say bad, they mean good! And to shake your booty means to wiggle one's butt.
 
  

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