So here we are, slightly inebriated once more, talking drivel. I meant to write an entry before I became chemically enhanced (alcohol... unsurprisingly), but once more that proved to be beyond my meager capabilities.
Before I forget I just want to mention the word twunt. Which I recently discovered courtesy of Scary Duck (who's tagline is "Not Scary. Not a duck"). Twunt! What a wonderful word. So good that I broke out the exclamation mark, of which I'm normally so wary. Twunt. (For those of you who's minds are elevated slightly above the gutter, twunt is a combination of twat and cunt... both of which mean the same (in an unrelated matter this talk of guttering reminds me of an assertion I made one evening whilst drinking (duh!) in London: "I am the gutter. The scum and detritus of society flow above me.", which at the time seemed hilarious.)).
Last night a friend of mine had a house warming party. She's a grad student and she owns a house... it seems wrong somehow. It was all very nice. On the way there the German guy who gave me a lift stole my neighbours pro-Bush sticker as a house warming gift for the Democrat home-owner. I brought alcohol. There was laughter and vulgarity and all those good things. At one point in the evening somebody was talking about some bloke or other that had graduated from Princeton, where they had, and was an African-American. So I, sarcastically, interjected "and he can both spell his own name and count to ten", highlighting the ridiculousness of mentioning his colour when talking about his achievements. Which stunned the liberal crowd into silence for a few moments before they realized that my comments where not entirely serious. When realization dawned, I was warned that in certain parts of town that comment could get me shot... and I thought, if they display the same lack of appreciation of tone and context as you (seemingly educated) folk, you're probably right.
After I, eventually, managed to get up today and leave my house I went to the record shop with the cute girl. That is I went alone to the record shop in which the cute girl works. I thought that maybe I'd get to speak to the cute girl after narrowly missing out last week. I was wrong. She was there when I walked in the store (after all I'm in America and it's a store not a shop), sadly, after I'd picked out my Scissor Sisters, Madvillian, M83 and Gothic Archives records... she had left. So, once more, less cute girl served me. In all honesty she might also be moderately cute if she ever fucking smiled. I've recently come to the conclusion that I expect people to smile when I give the money. And if they don't smile, then I'm not happy. Besides girlies look pretty when they smile. It makes me feel much more validated and worthwhile.
I also walked into a Gay book store today. The girl working in there didn't smile at me either. In fact she looked at me with thinly veiled hostility. Either she was a man hating lesbian or she didn't like the look of me or she didn't like the way a dripping wet (it was raining) man was walking through a store filled with paper based products. Anyway it was enlightening.
If you recall (I'd place a link here if I could be bothered) there is a Gaelic shop in the North Market. Well it calls itself a Gaelic shop even though all its products are imported from the UK... grrhh America's obsession with Ireland. I bought a sherbet fountain, which was great, and some black pudding, which I'm looking forward to enormously for breakfast tomorrow.
Sunday, August 01, 2004
Mexican flag...
The painting on the side of the Mexican market next to my apartment building. Isn't it cute. Basically I'm just testing to see if this whole photo-posting nonsense will work.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
The post which hates dentists slightly less than the last one
Thankfully my tooth is no longer causing me incredible pain. Every now and again there is a little twitch, but the constant unpleasnat buzz has left me. So maybe dentists aren't the evil devilmen that my previous post portrayed them as being. Maybe they are just would be serial killers who've found an alternative outlet for their angst and mankind hatred.
I'm still in love with my shiny little iPod. Although I have already managed to scratch it quite a bit, so I might need to buy it a little sleeve and some restorative lotion. But it is still a wonderful little toy.
I'm very excited. One of my favourite artists, the gorgeous Thea Gilmore, is going to be on the radio show of one of favourite broadcasters, the less gorgeous Mark Radcliffe. Apparently this Thursday evening, UK time, she's playing at and he's covering the Cambridge Folk Festival. (Now I realize that anything with folk in the title is a little scary, but she's really rather good... and did I mention gorgeous?) I just hope that more people are there to enjoy her than were at the Pittsburgh show I went to.
I'm still in love with my shiny little iPod. Although I have already managed to scratch it quite a bit, so I might need to buy it a little sleeve and some restorative lotion. But it is still a wonderful little toy.
I'm very excited. One of my favourite artists, the gorgeous Thea Gilmore, is going to be on the radio show of one of favourite broadcasters, the less gorgeous Mark Radcliffe. Apparently this Thursday evening, UK time, she's playing at and he's covering the Cambridge Folk Festival. (Now I realize that anything with folk in the title is a little scary, but she's really rather good... and did I mention gorgeous?) I just hope that more people are there to enjoy her than were at the Pittsburgh show I went to.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Macadamia nut popcorn curse update
This morning I visited the devil to fix my tooth. Oh sorry did I say devil I meant demon... actually I meant dentist. I now understand why so many people are afraid of the dentist or hate them.
Before I went there my tooth didn't hurt. Before I went there I was one hundred dollars richer. Before I went to the dentist I hadn't spend twenty minutes laying on my back while some stranger used a power drill or a power sander to burn away the living part of my tooth. Well at least I hadn't had that experience for around ten years. The burning smell was particularly unpleasant.
After he had finished abusing my tooth and stuffing it full of metal, he told me that it would be sensitive to hot and cold for a while. What he didn't tell me was that it would be sensitive to my own saliva. He didn't mention that the nagging pain of this morning (once more I typed the smo... before I realized that smorning is not a word) would slip and shift into a killer headache this afternoon.
So in summary I paid $100, and that was just my ten or twenty percent, to go from a pain free situation to one where my tooth tingles, and occasionally shoots, with pain. And next week I get to go and have a cleaning... I hope it proves to be less painful.
And all of this because of the curse of macadamia nut popcorn woman. Fear those shop assistants.
Before I went there my tooth didn't hurt. Before I went there I was one hundred dollars richer. Before I went to the dentist I hadn't spend twenty minutes laying on my back while some stranger used a power drill or a power sander to burn away the living part of my tooth. Well at least I hadn't had that experience for around ten years. The burning smell was particularly unpleasant.
After he had finished abusing my tooth and stuffing it full of metal, he told me that it would be sensitive to hot and cold for a while. What he didn't tell me was that it would be sensitive to my own saliva. He didn't mention that the nagging pain of this morning (once more I typed the smo... before I realized that smorning is not a word) would slip and shift into a killer headache this afternoon.
So in summary I paid $100, and that was just my ten or twenty percent, to go from a pain free situation to one where my tooth tingles, and occasionally shoots, with pain. And next week I get to go and have a cleaning... I hope it proves to be less painful.
And all of this because of the curse of macadamia nut popcorn woman. Fear those shop assistants.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Something naughty...
I did something naughty. Not naughty as in a 16 year old school girl. Or naughty as in cat burglary. More naughty as in buying something which one really shouldn't buy. In my case it was one of these shiny little things. I don't really need. I can't really afford. I don't have enough music to fill it. And I love it.
For those of you who are curious (who am I kidding... no one is curious, but I'm going to keep blabbing on about it 'cause it's my new toy), I bought one of the 40GB fourth generation iPods. And it's very nice. Although it was a bit bastard to get all of the songs from my laptop on to the iPod. For some reason it kept on messing up after transferring 100 or 200 songs. After a few hours of the mysterious "Unknown Error - 36" message I tried to wipe the disk and try again from fresh. Sadly this process messed up the poor little fellow so much that I had to take him back to the Apple store and get them to fix it. In fact I was all ready to ask for a refund, but they fixed it so quickly that I thought I'd give it another try. After persevering through a few more file transfer hangups and computer reboots, I managed to get a few hundred songs on my iPod and I got to take it out for a test drive... well actually it was a test walk, but you get the picture. Strangely enough, when I returned from my little stroll around Columbus the remaining 1500 songs transferred without a hitch. Since then I've managed to copy almost my entire cd collection on to the iPod without any further problems. Long may my trouble free days continue.
At present I have around 3,000 songs on the iPod, which constitutes all the cds I have with me in America. So, I'm not quite sure why I bought the 10,000 song capacity 40GB as opposed to the $100 cheaper 20GB version. Who knows though, maybe I'll manage to fill it up sooner or later. I left a number of cds in my Grandmother's loft when I came over the pond.. so if I ever go back home for a visit there'll be a few more songs that can go on my shiny little friend.
Enough of this droning on about my new toy. While I was out on my wanders yesterday I visited a few of those places which have helped the recent warming in my opinion of Columbus. Firstly there was, the wonderfully named, Magnolia Thunderpussy Records (whose website might be up and running by the time you read this), which is a nice little independent record shop (as in they're independent, not that they only sell independent records). Whilst I was there I bought the Mercury Music Prize co-favourite Franz Ferdinand (thanks in part to the recommendation of a certain Mr Smith) and XTC's English Settlement (thanks in part to the recommendation of a certain Mr Minear). Both of which are now on my iPod and, on first listens, are rather good. They might advance to being very good, or slip back to being okay, once I've heard them a few more times. Oh, I should probably mention that one of the reasons that I like this shop is that they have a pretty girlie working there behind the counter... which always helps my shopping recidivism.
Next up on my brief shopping tour was the North Market, a part covered, part open , um... market. One of the stores in the market is Gaelic Imports Columbus, which sells all manner of things that I miss from home, including the likes of Fuse bars and Lilt... both of which I've tried in recent weeks. Oh, and looking at their website I notice that the also sell black pudding, it would seem I'll have to be paying another visit there in the not too distant future. There are lots of other funky food and non-food stalls in the market, and it's all very nice.
The final stop on my tour of cool shops, although hopefully it isn't the only other cool shop in Columbus, was the Book Loft in the German Village area (not quite sure why their website thinks that I want to listen to some silly Irish muzak). The Book Loft is like an old fashioned English bookshop. It's the kind of place that caused Terry Pratchett to invent L-Space. Lots of little book filled rooms connected with book filled little corridors. It was very cool. The only problem was that the rooms and corridors were very short and very narrow. However, when your 6' 3(ish) and 288.8 lbs. (well I was when I went to the doctor's on the 8th July) small book filled corridors and not necessarily the best places to try and pass other people. By the time I left the shop I was beginning to feel excessively large and I really enjoyed getting out in the open.
Um... there was something else. Can't remember what now though. I'm sure it was thrilling. Either thrilling or very dull.
Oh, did I mention that I've got a shiny new toy?
For those of you who are curious (who am I kidding... no one is curious, but I'm going to keep blabbing on about it 'cause it's my new toy), I bought one of the 40GB fourth generation iPods. And it's very nice. Although it was a bit bastard to get all of the songs from my laptop on to the iPod. For some reason it kept on messing up after transferring 100 or 200 songs. After a few hours of the mysterious "Unknown Error - 36" message I tried to wipe the disk and try again from fresh. Sadly this process messed up the poor little fellow so much that I had to take him back to the Apple store and get them to fix it. In fact I was all ready to ask for a refund, but they fixed it so quickly that I thought I'd give it another try. After persevering through a few more file transfer hangups and computer reboots, I managed to get a few hundred songs on my iPod and I got to take it out for a test drive... well actually it was a test walk, but you get the picture. Strangely enough, when I returned from my little stroll around Columbus the remaining 1500 songs transferred without a hitch. Since then I've managed to copy almost my entire cd collection on to the iPod without any further problems. Long may my trouble free days continue.
At present I have around 3,000 songs on the iPod, which constitutes all the cds I have with me in America. So, I'm not quite sure why I bought the 10,000 song capacity 40GB as opposed to the $100 cheaper 20GB version. Who knows though, maybe I'll manage to fill it up sooner or later. I left a number of cds in my Grandmother's loft when I came over the pond.. so if I ever go back home for a visit there'll be a few more songs that can go on my shiny little friend.
Enough of this droning on about my new toy. While I was out on my wanders yesterday I visited a few of those places which have helped the recent warming in my opinion of Columbus. Firstly there was, the wonderfully named, Magnolia Thunderpussy Records (whose website might be up and running by the time you read this), which is a nice little independent record shop (as in they're independent, not that they only sell independent records). Whilst I was there I bought the Mercury Music Prize co-favourite Franz Ferdinand (thanks in part to the recommendation of a certain Mr Smith) and XTC's English Settlement (thanks in part to the recommendation of a certain Mr Minear). Both of which are now on my iPod and, on first listens, are rather good. They might advance to being very good, or slip back to being okay, once I've heard them a few more times. Oh, I should probably mention that one of the reasons that I like this shop is that they have a pretty girlie working there behind the counter... which always helps my shopping recidivism.
Next up on my brief shopping tour was the North Market, a part covered, part open , um... market. One of the stores in the market is Gaelic Imports Columbus, which sells all manner of things that I miss from home, including the likes of Fuse bars and Lilt... both of which I've tried in recent weeks. Oh, and looking at their website I notice that the also sell black pudding, it would seem I'll have to be paying another visit there in the not too distant future. There are lots of other funky food and non-food stalls in the market, and it's all very nice.
The final stop on my tour of cool shops, although hopefully it isn't the only other cool shop in Columbus, was the Book Loft in the German Village area (not quite sure why their website thinks that I want to listen to some silly Irish muzak). The Book Loft is like an old fashioned English bookshop. It's the kind of place that caused Terry Pratchett to invent L-Space. Lots of little book filled rooms connected with book filled little corridors. It was very cool. The only problem was that the rooms and corridors were very short and very narrow. However, when your 6' 3(ish) and 288.8 lbs. (well I was when I went to the doctor's on the 8th July) small book filled corridors and not necessarily the best places to try and pass other people. By the time I left the shop I was beginning to feel excessively large and I really enjoyed getting out in the open.
Um... there was something else. Can't remember what now though. I'm sure it was thrilling. Either thrilling or very dull.
Oh, did I mention that I've got a shiny new toy?
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
More Zimbabwe news... and some childish sniggering at a name
I noticed this article about next year's Zimbabwean election. Essentially, Archbishop Pius Ncube of Bulawayo is claiming that the last election was rigged and the one next year will also not be `free and fair'.
Some of the claims he makes in the article are that last time round there were 800,000 dead people on the electoral roll and 600,000 duplicate names on the list. All in all, the report he was quoting from claims that, of the 5.5 million Zimbabweans registered to vote, two million did not exist. Which is pretty impressive.
If you recall the last Zimbabwean election was one which the European Union and the Commonwealth observers claimed was neither free nor fair. But African groups said everything was tickety-boo — although I don't believe that was the actual wording used by the African observers.
And the childish giggle? Was it inevitable that someone named `Pius' would grow up to be an Archbishop? (Although it would be better if it was spelled pious.) Of course it could have been worse for the poor kid, look what happens when you name your son God. Which I think proves that God (as in The Almighty — if he/she/it exists — and not Mr Chiwelesa), or Mother Nature or something or other, does have a sense of humour.
Some of the claims he makes in the article are that last time round there were 800,000 dead people on the electoral roll and 600,000 duplicate names on the list. All in all, the report he was quoting from claims that, of the 5.5 million Zimbabweans registered to vote, two million did not exist. Which is pretty impressive.
If you recall the last Zimbabwean election was one which the European Union and the Commonwealth observers claimed was neither free nor fair. But African groups said everything was tickety-boo — although I don't believe that was the actual wording used by the African observers.
And the childish giggle? Was it inevitable that someone named `Pius' would grow up to be an Archbishop? (Although it would be better if it was spelled pious.) Of course it could have been worse for the poor kid, look what happens when you name your son God. Which I think proves that God (as in The Almighty — if he/she/it exists — and not Mr Chiwelesa), or Mother Nature or something or other, does have a sense of humour.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
No good will come of it...
Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn.
I've been meaning to post a Columbus ain't so bad sort of a post for a while. But now Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn has intervened. One of the reasons that I've been warming to Columbus is that I've discoved Trader Joe's grocery store. It's a shop that sells lots of good stuff, some of it organic, some of it European, some of it alcoholic (yea I'm not in retarded Pennsylvania) and generally everything I've bought there seems to be pretty good... but that was before the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn. One of the reasons that I like Trader Joe's is that when I first went there (last Friday I think) I was wearing my Collina t-shirt, and no less than three people commented on it.
This evening's trip to Trader Joe's started off well. One of the employees, a pretty girlie, feigned mock offence at my (correctly spelled) "You're sh*t and you know you are" t-shirt. Then I picked up a load of stuff that I don't really need and one or two bits and pieces that I do need. As I was making my way to the checkout I noticed the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn... how I now wish I hadn't.
The beginning of the end occured at the checkout. The lady packing my bags picked up the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn and said, "No good will come of it!". Was it a prophecy? Was it a curse? Was it a coincidence? Was she mad? Should she have kept her trap shut?
I should at this point, point out that she was refering to how good the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn was and was not making some doom prophecy for me. At least that was what I thought.
So, I get home. I start cooking some lamb, which was very nice by the way. And whilst it's cooking I open the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn... big mistake. As I ate maybe the third or fourth piece there was a large snap and a shot of pain on the right hand side of my mouth. After I clean the remaining popcorn from my mouth I notice that I've broken the corner off one of my teeth. It's one of the big ones at the back (molars?) and the corner of the tooth is missing exposing the metal filling. At the moment at least, it's more annoying than painful. But now I've got to go and see a dentist. And it's going to cost me lots of money. And there going to tell me how bad my teeth are. And then it's probably going to cost me even more money. And all because of Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn.
I've been meaning to post a Columbus ain't so bad sort of a post for a while. But now Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn has intervened. One of the reasons that I've been warming to Columbus is that I've discoved Trader Joe's grocery store. It's a shop that sells lots of good stuff, some of it organic, some of it European, some of it alcoholic (yea I'm not in retarded Pennsylvania) and generally everything I've bought there seems to be pretty good... but that was before the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn. One of the reasons that I like Trader Joe's is that when I first went there (last Friday I think) I was wearing my Collina t-shirt, and no less than three people commented on it.
This evening's trip to Trader Joe's started off well. One of the employees, a pretty girlie, feigned mock offence at my (correctly spelled) "You're sh*t and you know you are" t-shirt. Then I picked up a load of stuff that I don't really need and one or two bits and pieces that I do need. As I was making my way to the checkout I noticed the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn... how I now wish I hadn't.
The beginning of the end occured at the checkout. The lady packing my bags picked up the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn and said, "No good will come of it!". Was it a prophecy? Was it a curse? Was it a coincidence? Was she mad? Should she have kept her trap shut?
I should at this point, point out that she was refering to how good the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn was and was not making some doom prophecy for me. At least that was what I thought.
So, I get home. I start cooking some lamb, which was very nice by the way. And whilst it's cooking I open the Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn... big mistake. As I ate maybe the third or fourth piece there was a large snap and a shot of pain on the right hand side of my mouth. After I clean the remaining popcorn from my mouth I notice that I've broken the corner off one of my teeth. It's one of the big ones at the back (molars?) and the corner of the tooth is missing exposing the metal filling. At the moment at least, it's more annoying than painful. But now I've got to go and see a dentist. And it's going to cost me lots of money. And there going to tell me how bad my teeth are. And then it's probably going to cost me even more money. And all because of Fucking Macadamia Nut Popcorn.
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