Smeg!
I hate this. I can never think of what to write in the opening lines of a webpage. But what the hey, let's get cracking
My goal with this page is letting you, the browser, get a small glimps into my mind. So pull up a chair and pour yourself a wee dram. Since my mind is quite full of turbulence I advise to fasten you seatbelts and to take notice that the "No Smoking"-sign is not lit, so please smoke 'em if you've got'em.
If you are a person who likes all things good in life, wether it's drink, smoke, movies, books, music or other people, than put your feet up and be very welcome into my world. Small minded people, who dislike the pleasures of life are advised to go elsewhere.
So on to the serious part. I've got this thing about making quick judgements about places and people. Upon entering a restaurant I always locate the bar and browse through the stock to assess the quality of the place. A restaurant who aren't serious about their drink will often give the same lack of consideration to their food.
It's sort of the same thing when I visit people for the first time, but here I locate the bookshelves and quickly browse the titles. This will help me make up an opinion of the inhabitants of this particular abode, more than the way they act.
Ah...! At last, the final paragraph. On the top of this page you will find a small menu where you can, without leaving the safety of your home, browse through my bookshelves, barcabinet, humidor and find out more about some of the things that catch my fancy.
Poem of the week
Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
Chorus:
-For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
Chorus
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.
Chorus
We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
Chorus
And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.
Robert Burns, 1788