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May. 8th, 2005 09:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_elyanHouse description seen yesterday in an estate agent's window:
"Comfortable as a badger’s scrotum, sharp as a Woodpeckers bill a and generous as a Swedish ‘D’ cup this house has an ancient flow about it and expresses itself in a way that I’ve not seen before and found quite exhilarating."
Let's be honest, there is only one town where you could stick up a description like that and be accepted as a member of the com,munity.
Yup - Glastonbury.
And if you don't believe me, I direct you to http://www.ralphbending.com
I still can't decide whether I consider Glastonbury to be a giant con - for all the Buddahs and books on Unlocking Your Inner Goddess (mine escaped years ago, and is now singing contralto in a club in Droitwich), I do get the feeling that the town pursues the manufacture of mysticism as assiduously as neighbouring Street pursues the manufacture of shoes.
Still, you're never short of a nutter in Glastonbury, which is refreshing, and the residents have a charming belief that the laws regarding the sale and possession of marijuana don't apply within the town boundaries. Even more bizarrely, they appear to be absolutely right.
A fuller write-up of my weekend spent tromping round lovely Somerset will appear at some point, if I can be bothered.
"Comfortable as a badger’s scrotum, sharp as a Woodpeckers bill a and generous as a Swedish ‘D’ cup this house has an ancient flow about it and expresses itself in a way that I’ve not seen before and found quite exhilarating."
Let's be honest, there is only one town where you could stick up a description like that and be accepted as a member of the com,munity.
Yup - Glastonbury.
And if you don't believe me, I direct you to http://www.ralphbending.com
I still can't decide whether I consider Glastonbury to be a giant con - for all the Buddahs and books on Unlocking Your Inner Goddess (mine escaped years ago, and is now singing contralto in a club in Droitwich), I do get the feeling that the town pursues the manufacture of mysticism as assiduously as neighbouring Street pursues the manufacture of shoes.
Still, you're never short of a nutter in Glastonbury, which is refreshing, and the residents have a charming belief that the laws regarding the sale and possession of marijuana don't apply within the town boundaries. Even more bizarrely, they appear to be absolutely right.
A fuller write-up of my weekend spent tromping round lovely Somerset will appear at some point, if I can be bothered.
