...didn't work out so well.
So, Saturday night and I'm in bed, blogging to the sound of Dire Straits. Even if I did feel like going out into the rain, where would I go? Who would I go with? So stuff it, I'm going to be boring. Perhaps later I'll have something from one of the bottles sitting on my shelf.
Horace just sits there, grinning away at me, as usual. Death must be bliss eventually; I've never seen a skull without a grin on its face.
Last night was, of course, Halloween. Too lazy and cheap to invest in a dazzling costume, I decided to go as a Seemingly Perfectly Ordinary Person. It's easy: dress respectably, pick several outrageously different personae, each with different accents, and switch randomly between them all night. Caricatures or stereotypes work especially well.
Drives people up the wall. From drunken obscene Scotsman, to red-neck cowboy, to uptight English gentleman, to New York gangster, to Igor, to ditsy cheerleader, to Hell-fire and brimstone preacher....
"Personae": from Latin, "mask", the personality that a person adopts and presents to other people.
It's too easy to put on masks, isn't it?
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