(Incidentally, this probably isn't going to mean much to my Australian readership, but I'll press on regardless)

Ever since leaving Australia recently I've been feeling a trifle uneasy. Walking/bussing around London would occasionally see me feel a cold shiver down my spine and sneaking sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. I've been wandering about now for 2 weeks and it's just become apparent to me what's going on.

As most upright-walking humans would now know (with the exception of cave dwellers and possibly people living on oil rigs) there's been a new movie released recently – Wallace & Gromit – Curse of the Were-Rabbit. There's a number of posters around for it, such as the one pictured (left).

One manifestation of the sinister nature of this film I read about involved the Isle of Man, specifically a town called Portland – apparently, due to local superstition, nobody uses the word “rabbit” there. This of course would have been a bit of a blow for the sales figures for Chas'N'Dave I guess.

Be that as it may, none of that accounts for the weird creepy feeling I was getting. After keeping an eye open for the trigger to this psychosomatic symptom, it occurred to me that what's been freaking me out is in fact these very movie posters !

I live in an area of London known as Camden Town, and it's well known that Camden's a top place to get boozed up, because of the proliferation of Liquor Emporia in the area, as well as quick, cheap and easy access to post-booze nourishment (i.e. lots of kebab shops). One place we all strive to avoid (which I'm surprised I've not mentioned in a blog entry before today) – and yet seem to return to with guilt ridden anguish – is The Woody Grill.

The Woody Grill is a conundrum; you *know* what you're eating's awful, and will in all likelihood give you food poisoning, however nobody I've met yet can provide proof that it ever has, and… well… it just tastes so GOOD (** disclaimer: this is the range of taste encountered after 8-10 pints, and I'm certainly not claiming it approaches Vlado's, The Clarence, The Lanesborough, The Treasury, or any of the other top notch dining establishments I've visited in the last couple of years). In the cold sober light of day, mere mention of The Woody Grill produces very much the same reaction as these Wallace and Gromit posters.

It's the giant “WG” that's doing it!

I only wish that these kinds of stories came with self-apparent punchlines. If you have any suggestions on how this post should end, please leave them in the comment box provided.

Thanks for your time.

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