January 19th, 2012

This IS me (by schwitters)Default

West Of The Fields

Yesterday afternoon I had a job interview in which I spectacularly failed to find anything positive to say about myself, the prospective job, life, the universe, everything. Afterwards I decided to check out the Westfield shopping centre, passed through the barrier into White City tube station, realised Westfield was actually five minutes' walk away, came out again, and finally attempted Westfield ingress by pushing a door marked PULL. It was that sort of afternoon.

(I wouldn't bother making a special trip to Westfield over any other shopping centre, but it does have a Jack Wolfskin store, where I bought one of their ridiculously expensive pawprint T-shirts in the sale for something approaching the price of a normal T-shirt.)

I cheered up in the evening, when after a meal (and, for me, a large G&T) with mykreeve and insofox the three of us did some playtesting of games destined for the South Bank's upcoming Festival of Death.

I'm a bit of a wimp about games that require you to bluff, or come up with things on the fly, or indeed interact with other people in any way, but I felt that anything helmed by several_bees couldn't be too cruel or unusual (well, possibly unusual), and I managed to loosen up enough to enjoy a game about hitmen, and another about writing eulogies.

My favourite game, though, was the warmup at the start in which we were Victorian stonemasons composing epitaphs for tombstones, but because we were novice stonemasons without very good chisels we couldn't use any curvy letters. This ruled out C, D, G, S etc, and ensured that our deceased couldn't be ASLEEP; WITH GOD, JESUS or THE ANGELS; R.I.P. or even DEAD. My masterpiece, produced just as time was called, was

Here is the link for going along and playing the debugged games for realsies.
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