That's Today's Coincidence Sorted

Why Yes Indeed
As you may know, Conrad doesn't like to have more than one spooky, eerie and thoroughly disconcerting coincidence per day, as his hair is grey enough already without going completely white.
     So, what film did I watch last night?  "Kingsman", which was jolly entertaining.  Seeing Colin Firth handing people's bottoms to them on a plate was a bit of a revelation, and the actor playing Eggsy hit the shrewdly streetwise chav dead on the nail.
     So, today, not five minutes ago, I open up "Brewer's" to cheat and find a bit of inspiration for today's title, and the page is all about - Kings.

A Follow On (And Carry On!) From Saturday
If you recall, Conrad went out on Saturday to a meal on behalf of Anna's birthday, but I didn't get to complete my missive about the mission.
     Wiser counsel left to go home after the meal, but Conrad, feeling that as he'd made the effort to come out, he ought to stick with it, rashly followed in the footsteps of the rest of the party, to Liberacion De Cuba.

The queue at LDC

     This was a long walk, but easily the best part of the night as there was no intrusive house PA or music so loud one's ear-drums go on strike, so People Could Talk.
     Unfortunately the enormous queue at LDC sat like a stuffed crocodile and didn't move at all, so it was across the road - and here Conrad encountered a species of individual called a "Taxi Marshal" for the first time ever* - into a taxi and back to the Printworks, where the four remaining of us ventured in.
     
     I'm sure Anna, Georgina and Louise enjoyed themselves, but for hapless old Conrad it was rather like descending into the bowels of Hades, except we went upstairs.
     It was very dark, which is to be expected as it was night, also extremely LOUD, which in Conrad's elderly opinion is a bad thing, and it was extremely crowded.  A non-stop stream of people kept coming up the stairs.  "How will they fit in?" wondered your sweating scribe, in considerable distress thanks to the furnace-like heat generated by all those bodies - mostly hen parties in a state, dancing badly.

Upper level dancefloor at Tiger Tiger

     Finally wishing Anna the best of it, I made my way to the Gents toilets, where a pair of lady cheerleaders had decided to pre-empt the queue at the Ladies and were hogging one of the cubicles.  Conrad put on a bit of a cut-glass accent and was gently mocking, although my sympathies went out to the chap sweeping the floor.
     Then came either the zenith or the nadir of the evening, as I went to catch a night-service bus in Picadilly.
     Note to self: there is no night service bus.  They stop running at midnight, and it was 00:15.  So I caught a cab home, which cost only £135, as I was lucky.

First Bus's timetable planner hears of Conrad's plight

A Pome
Since I was off work when Anna got her birthday presentation at work, I wrote a pome for her on a card.  Yeah, she's not getting off that easily!  Here it is:

When all around is wrack and ruin,

Where'er you look, trouble's brewing,

Your woes get worse by long brewing,

Send for Anna Pavlou!

Anna combines both looks and grace,

A perfect dynamo in the workplace.

"No Nonsense" writ large upon her face.

She very much HAS a clue!

Ask a question, get an answer.

She's no fudge-around dancer

Rather, a staff-satisfying enhancer,

Who's been to Edinburgh Zoo.

Hates being in the spotlights

Quite the pro at "Boxercise"

In veggie matters oh so wise -

- and have these brownies, too.

     Every word true.  And there was a tub of gluten-free brownies.  Hence their inclusion in the pome, not just thrown in at random.  I may be odd, but there are limits.

Ah - I think the kitchen is free - yes it must be, here's Edna to see if I've carelessly left a steak on the carpet.  Back shortly - talk amongst yourselves.

"Yorkshire Curd"
Whilst sat on the bus this morning, a van bearing the livery of "Longley Dairies" drove past, with a long list of what dairy products they retailed.
     "Yorkshire Curd" read one legend, causing my brows to wrinkle.  Yorkshire Curd?  Of this I'd not heard.  Whilst at our annual HR jamboree**, I asked Dave "Professional Yorkshireman" Kerry about it, and he'd never heard of it, either.
     Okay, it is a real thing.  Art Department, get out of the coal cellar and earn your pay***!

Yorkshire cur.  Close en -

     Art!  Do I have to get the spiny cactus out again?

I believe the bag is blue, not the curd.
Although it could be.

     Now, I believe the reason for it's existence being a bit obscure is because it's a raw ingredient, you can't munch it out of the packet^. It is used to make Yorkshire Curd Tarts -

Like these?

     NO!  <loud slapping noise occurs> - try pulling the spines out from there.  Get it right!

Still with the blue!

     Finally!  Well, I did have more to post but we don't want to bore the audience, do we?  And we have hit the 900 word mark.

Pip Pip!


* I don't get out much.
** Wow.  This word is in the spell-checker.  Colour me impressed.
*** Art hides down there and eats the coal.
^ Given my digestion I bet I could.