[quote=“Carinthia, post:323, topic:177”]
There are days when I’m very pleased that I don’t actually like Gin
[/quote]Same here. Can’t abide the stuff. It’s like drinking perfume.
You mean you don’t like drinking perfume? How very perverse of you!
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Gin is vodka with pretensions, isn’t it?
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Well normally they’re called ‘botanicals’, but yes. ish.
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You can get Bloody Vodka now. - pardon my French ladies.
They’re going to end up ruining the stuff if they keep adding weird things to it.
I can get the same effect on ordinary voddy, by stirring it with a red felt-tip pen.
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And Fanta can achieve it by luring a cow into a vodka-lagoon…
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He’ll have had more practice. 
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Well, what else would you do with a perfectly good vodka lake? (It’s below the Succession Pools, and from the swing on the Old Oak Tree you can land right in it.)
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Land on it?
I don’t have that instinctive aim which 3Wells has.
I’m more likely to end up landing on the cow.
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I think you might be going a bit heavy on the old ice, Twobers…
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No ice for me and no gin, either. Son’s fiancée is in hospital with a twisted gut, so have made sure that all is as well as can be, had a late dinner and am orff to bed.
Good nights, Cellarites.
Soo xx
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shame. Sounds like a harassed bee to me. Hope things improve rapidly on the fiancee/gut front.
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Narsty! Had to have mine rebuilt with mesh a few years ago. Went to Bournemouth, drank champers and had hot stone massages to recuperate. Hope the patient is better soon, Soo! 
xxx :))
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So sorry for being so late in seeing this, Soo
Technology has been challenging at Carinthia Towers this afternoon & evening
Big Hugs, & a large measure of summat you fancy
Carinthia.xx
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Let that technology know who’s boss.
Buy it the cheap caviar for a week and see how it likes it.
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We keep an axe at which we can look Meaningfully if the technology starts thinking it is boss.
Soo, I wish the sufferer all the very best, that sounds dire. I hope it is readily and forever cured quickly.
The radio in my room has decided it likes crackle and whoosh, again. I shall be cutting an inch at a time off an extra aerial (aka bit of wire) until it finds the length that suits it, over the next few days. It’s either that or get R4 via the computer, which will involve More Wiring round the back of the wardrobe to the small World Service speakers. Life is Complicated.
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With five mins of early warning. I can usually manage to be sharpening an axe in my front garden, whenever political canvassers or other time-wasting nuisances are about.
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Rising from the undergrowth wearing sandals, shorts and a machete works wonders, especially if your “Can I help you?” is terribly, terribly bored. Even the police gulp a little and back away.
(We didn’t have the dog they were worried about; that had belonged to the bloke we bought the house from. But the RSPCA and the council and the police all came round anyway.)
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I don’t like Belgian railways
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Any particular reason?
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