S p r a t t i c u s: Dog Days of Summer BBQ

Camden, London
The Flying Suit Fruity party on Saturday was a riotous success in many ways. In others it was less so. People flocked to Bole Mansions for the final farewell to the Dog Days of Summer BBQ. Booze...well that flowed...uh...huh. People from the five oceans and seven seas of my friendships; they came, they ate, they drank and they did chat.

England won a momentous Rugby World Cup semi-final against France thereby progressing to a very unexpected final against South Africa this coming weekend...but not without casualties.

I was almost lynched.

I forgot that I had programmed the TV recorder doo-dah-thingy (known by the residents of Bole Mansions...errr...that'd be me...as The Nuclear Sub for its mind-boggling complexity of operation) to record A Beautiful Mind. Fine. Well, no, not fine really as the film was on at about the same time as the second half of The Rugby Game. A quirk of the recorder is that it plays what you're recording, not necessarily what you or a large number of rugby fevered folk want to watch. There really is Jack Shit you, I (Jack Spratticus) or indeed Jack Bauer could do about it once the nuclear sub heads out on its course.

So at the nail biting, quick bleeding, piss stained crotch of The Rugby Game's crux, the film, let me remind you - A Beautiful Mind, started playing thereby usurping The Rugby Game with Ron Howard's best directorial efforts and seriously disgruntling a worryingly large number of camel coloured corduroy jacket toting, atypically angry types who were within a gnat's nut sack of spatchcocking me on the BBQ. I took solice in...well...more booze really.

Apparently my last conscious uttering was to the hot coals of the BBQ, something about 'it was an easy mistake to make' and 'no one understands me' whilst I caressed their rosy prettiness with a bamboo stick. Spratticus was declared collapsed and in a coma at 00:15, Sun October 14, 2007.