February 28, 2014

Bar’s Open

It’s been a quiet week; let’s make a noise. Order your drink very loudly, and tell us what sort of noise you are going to make.


12 thoughts on “Bar’s Open

  1. In that case, it’s got to be a bucket of Harvey Wallbanger, surely?

    And just in case, I can always whack a gong or Kodo drum until deafness ensues…

  2. I am going to be shouting from the rooftops that I HAVE A NEW JOB! AND IT’S AMAZING and I’LL HAVE CHAMPAGNE PLEASE!

  3. Working at a hospital today. Are you allowed to shout in hospitals if you’re not actively in pain?
    However when I leave I will be doing a “hooray it’s the weekend” song and dance routine.

    Congrats to pix on the job, let’s crack the fizzy wine open!

  4. Hurrah for PIX! Can we hear all about the new job in your next Where Are They Now?

    (And I’m mostly shouting at myself for not writing a followup to Goldfinch this week because it was too hectic. Goldfinchers, can I get a canvas on where you are? I’d like to start a discussion next week through the middle of the book or thereabouts.)

    In honor of being INCREDIBLY LOUD ALREADY, I’ll have a French 75, please. Them are some big guns.

  5. MINE’S A PINT!!!!!!! (falls down stairs, lands on piano, piano shatters mirror, mirror is portal into a particularly noisy dimension populated by hyenas with klaxons for faces, the klaxon-hyenas are greatly disturbed by the arrival of a grand piano in their dimension, especially when they discover Jools Holland’s rhythm and blues orchestra are shooting next year’s Hootenanny inside it. They load the piano into spacious firework they had prepared for just this eventuality, and fire it into the moon, which, upon receiving the klaxon-hyenas’ full Jools Holland payload, releases the most hideous moan ever to echo through space, and echo it does, forever, and throughout all eternity. Meanwhile, I resolve to be more careful around stairs).

  6. Actually everything is rather quiet here: for the first time this year I have neither children nor builders at home. Plasterers were the loudest, I found – even louder than the digger and cement mixer.
    loud speaker for me, please, in honour of the most scousest plasterer of all.

  7. Oh sorry, you wanted to know what noise i would make. Any bloody noise I like now I have my house back. LA LA LA LA.

  8. Does it have to be loud? I had a very late (for me) night. I’ll be the one in the corner with ear defenders sipping hot cocoa.

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