Cambridge in the Snow

Wow! About five inches of snow in one night! Walking home in a magical wonderland. Oooh Christmas.

Mill Road in the morning is a hell of nasty black sludge and honking. See the fluffies of incompetence spinning their wheels on the ice near the grandmothers and the small children! Watch the dumb-ass proles in tracksuits seizing the chance to overtake by going from 0 to thirty in two seconds on a crowded icy street!

A bit later I'm watching two small children sliding around on the pavement, and remembering my own first snow. In Yorkshire it was all crispness and supernatural silence. I wonder if memories of terrifyingly slippery pavements in the middle of a town are the same thing.

Suddenly some cunt in a van drives fast through a puddle right next to them and covers them in freezing wet black filth. They're crying and their mother is trying to comfort them.

We really have to get rid of these things. Perhaps by machine gunning traffic at random? Maybe someone could do a feasibility study?

Once safely into town away from the bastards it's a wonderland again. Parker's piece is shiny and bright and clean in the sunshine. It's like the Alps. Only flat. But flat's good.

A big group of rowdy hoodies. One of them throws an idle snowball which hits my leg. I return fire. It ends up six to one and we're all laughing but it's about to get nasty and I'm covered in snow. I surrender and we all shake hands and wish each other Merry Christmas. Thank God for that! I thought I was dead. Good lads. Up for a fight but magnanimous in victory.

On into town. King's is so beautiful. My college. I still love it. In any weather it's wonderful. In the snow best of all.

On to the Castle. Lunch and a cigar in the garden. A perfect morning.