It's cold outside. Blizzard conditions.

 

Games played: 60

Games won: 32

Games lost: 28

Games drawn: 0

Bingos: 23

Westworld (1973 )

 

The Left Left Behind by Terry Bisson (PM Press 2009)

 

“No TV news!” said Cap. “How are we going to figure out what is going on?”

“Alternative radio!” said Gotha. “Pacifica is still on!” She spun the dial again:

“…without the heads of state. The new Secretary General of the United Nations, Vlad, has declared a new World Government. And now for ten hours of uninterrupted harmonica music played by chimpanzees …”

“World Government,” said Gotha. “That’s got to be a good thing!”

That Beatles song . . . not that one, the other one . . .

First time I've hit a 180 whilst doing the 100 darts at the 20s challenge. I think I'll switch over to 1001 challenge now for a bit.

17/50

Beating the Fascists: The Untold Story of Anti-fascist Action by Sean Birchall (Freedom Press 2010)

Blows were exchanged. I took this tremendous punch in the forehead. Eamonn decked one of them; everyone was hacking away, A large bald fascist right in front of me took an iron bar straight over the nut. His whole face just went grey. Fractured skull for sure, I thought. Another one on his hands and knees on the floor dropped his iron bar - a great big silver thing with a screw through the top of it - and began shouting, ‘Enough! Enoughl’You’lI be lucky, I thought, as blows rained down.

“People started chasing the others over walls and through gardens. I think the van pulled away with only about half of them in it. Three were left in the middle of the road. A taxi stopped, and a woman got out, screaming hysterically. Someone pulled her back in. Everyone else ignored her.

“Without much discussion it was decided to carry on with the meeting. Though it was unlikely they would come back, I volunteered for sentry duty outside, more to calm myself down than anything else. One of the women who worked in the kitchen was carted off in an ambulance with a suspected heart attack. So I’m standing there when Labour M P Jeremy Corbyn opens the door of the centre and peeps out. ‘Have they gone?’ he says. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Were they here for you or me?’ he says. ‘It was us,’ I reply. You could see the relief visible on his face. ‘Oh, good!’ he remarked cheerfully. Then, with a quick look in both directions, he skipped off down the road. I remember laughing at the time. How ironic, I thought. Here we have a Member of Parliament, no less, having to skulk around his own constituency for fear of rampaging fascists everyone else seems determined to deny exist.”

Sore head . . .

 

16/50

Just pissing about and I hit a 180 with my second throw of the day. Naturally, my next throws were 26, 30 and 26. Such is my darting life.

Knackered . . . all out of patter

 

15/50

Countdown

14/50

Gettin' Square (2003)

 

Just to annoy Keef . . .

 

13/50