I'm out to meet a man about a dog. Well not really. I was out to meet a man about two drawings. Or rather he was out to meet me about the drawings, being as they were in my possession, as it were. Meet you at monument. My favourite long-columned statue, well monument, it can't really be called a statue since there isn't a person on top of it, but the golden flames are a fine, nay great, substitute. Only briefly had that fear that what you think of as monument others may think of as the station, front of which might be the entrance you can't see. The exchange went smoothly - one brown roll for a white envelope. And the deal was oiled with liquor, and the measure of which make me somewhat tipsy (blame it on my shockingly bad tolerance). He told us a story about Scunthorpe Council who installed a firewall and banned all swear words and found they couldn't send each other email anymore.
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