Wednesday, March 03, 2004
In The Lands Of The North Where The Black Rocks Stand Guard…
Wandering purposelessly through London’s West End today, I stumbled quite by chance on a VHS chronicling every last adventure ever experienced by these fine, everyday Northern folk.
Those of you who know what I’m talking about will know precisely why I’m talking about it. Those of you who don’t will undoubtedly sigh sympathetically, pat me on my slightly demented puppy-dog head, and remind me that, at my age, a throrough investigation of the positive benefits of a grown-up existence might not be such a bad idea after all.
Your loss, my dears, for you’re far too young. While me and my mate, Graculus, well, we go back a long, long way. You know, they simply don’t make sagas like that anymore.