I haven't mentioned film club on these pages for a while - not because we haven't been gathering regularly around the screen with all the regular clubbers on a Sunday evening, just because I've been so busy with other stuff (look, I promise not to mention the play again on this posting - but it really is taking up just about every waking hour at the moment).
Last night the club gathered at Millbrooker Towers, minus Dong and Shazzerooneypoos because Lucy Lowe and her brood are in Millbrook so Dong was doing dad and grandpa impressions.
The film was Kubrick's masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey; jolly good it was, too. But I'm not going to review it; I'm only writing this as a distraction activity before returning to monologue repetition (damn, there's that promise broken).
I do, however, want to share with the world the fact that film club frequenters Frankenkeith and Slocombe seem to share a tailor. Or at least a gentleman's outfitter. Or, perhaps, a taste for Marks and Sparks - the multi-coloured sock shop..
1 comment:
I think feet featured as much as socks at last night's Film Club. I have a hazy feeling that my foot was put in it rather badly and I owe Dozybean an apology. Please pass on with promise to drink only water next time and go home before the port comes out! Frankenkeith
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