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: write-ups : links : short stories : poetry :

25 May 2004

:: Next To Godliness ::

Today marked the unveiling of Michaelangelo's David, cleaned with distilled water and cellulose. What a coincidence then that the wires have been jammed with a spate of cleanliness-related stories:

Following Dr Rufus's revelations that medics might not always adhere to the strictest standards of hygiene (see his comments on my last post), I was alarmed to read of the perils of infectious doctors' ties. Why not go the whole hog and indulge in a Dirty Sanchez before performing mouth-to-mouth? Methinks the good doctor would rather I averted my attention from such matters and poured him a Dirty Martini...

And then there's the case of the Chinese businessman's fly vendetta. Reading this, I thought I was in for a weak punchline on the theme of a very old joke that also features in an old Mel Brooks movie.

No doubt he would find favour with those mop-wielding dragons, Kim and Aggie (personally I prefer the sound of Kath and Kim). But it seems no matter how hard you try, your home is full of deadly toxins. Ironically, many of them seem to emanate from those super-efficient cleaning products designed to ease the housewife's workload. Perhaps we're better off using old fashioned products, such as vinegar and Baking soda...

That reminds me - I'd better get on with cleaning the house before we move. On the day when the Chelsea Flower Show opened, I've got to clear our garden of weeds...

20 May 2004

:: It Feels Like I've Swallowed 3 Golf Balls ::

So, what news from the Devukhadrome? Well, after the success of the Seven Deadly Sins, a swift G&T with "number one fan" Hypatia should have signalled a chance to let my hair down. I was due at 10.30 on Saturday to start building set for Amadeus, so I dragged home my costume and a lovely bunch of sweet william she'd bought me, at a relatively civilised hour. I only just made it to the lock-up without fainting. My throat was ablaze and the mere act of swallowing caused me to wince. Fluey and aching, I let the set-builders in. Already flagging at 11am, I was sent home by Shaker Mel, but faced a dilemma: I was due to be viewing a flat at 1pm. I should remark at this point that the house hunting had not been going too well. We'd seen a number of under-par dwellings and with just 2 weeks to find somewhere, any opportunity had to be taken. Luckily for me, La Gribouilleuse took pity on me and bade me come over to hers for hot lemon and sympathy - with gargled aspirin. We viewed the place (with possibly the oddest agent I've ever encountered - all spangly pink and clueless smiles) and were ready to throw in a deposit and sign on the dotted line. But more of that later...

Hence, over the most glorious weekend of the year so far, I lay in bed, stricken with a nasty throat infection. TV almost drove me crazy (thankfully I fell asleep during much of Eurovision), but I did get the chance to watch Man With A Movie Camera again. By Monday morning, things weren't much better, so I took the day off work and headed to the quack. One little "Aaaah" later and my fate was sealed - on prescription drugs for the first time in 10 years. It's unusual to be given antibiotics (only penicillin) these days, so it must have looked bad. With the advent of MRSA and other drug-resistant superbugs, standard doctors' advice for a sore throat seems to revolve around palliative care whilst the body fights the infection on its own. However, I promise Dr Rufus that, granted leave to take antibiotics, I shall finish the week-long course although I now feel virtually better.

The other news which greeted me on Monday was that the flat we had wanted to move into had already been bagged by someone else. Momentary panic set in. What if we couldn't find another place in time? Lucky stars are there to be thanked, and sometimes they shine rather bright, as the possibility of another place came up quickly. With time off for a viewing on Tuesday afternoon, I went and had a look, then took my propective flatmates. This is a great property: nice size kitchen (with a dishwasher - yay!) and spacious, interesting rooms. We decided this was the place. Mission-impossible stylee,the three of us piled into the agent's car and raced back to the office to pay our deposit before closing. Fingers crossed now. We may be moving the weekend before Amadeus, but it seems to be pretty much settled. There's a plaaaace for us...!

What else has been missed from my missives?

Current Affairs:
The Indy has gone completely tabloid. A logical move.
Donald Rumsfeld has pledged detainee reforms, with the daily appearance of more grisly images from Al Graib. Meanwhile, Rumsfeld's pet chimp only seems to be sidestepping some of his critics - how important will relevations about his old-boy network prove? This is hardly old news, but it's interesting to see that his opposite number was also a member of the Skull & Bones.
On a cheerier note, Oxfam has announced it is to open a chain of fair trade coffee shops. Let's hope the folks at Progreso can come up with a viable alternative to their coffee milkshake toting rivals.

Music:
Much to talk about here. Christian O'Connell won DJ of the Year - I must confess to being a fan. The xfm Breakfast Show is soon to release a football song for Euro 2004, but if you know me well, you'll probably have guessed I'm not that fussed.
On my sickbed, I have been listening to the esoteric outpourings of Erland Øye, a tuneful Norwegian. One of his fellow countrymen, Even Johansen, is also doing well in the charts - as magnet in a cover of the Bob Dylan classic, Lay Lady Lay. Øye has released an album in the DJ Kicks series. I found a rather amusing review of it here, but in my opinion, this ranks well with my other favourites in the series: Thievery Corporation, DJ Cam and Kruder & Dorfmeister.
Sounds to avoid this week are David Hasselhoff's Rap Album and the primal wails of Ukrainian Eurovision winner Ruslana.

Film:
Apart from the obvious, film seems to be in the news rather a lot. The appearance of 9 songs was bound to cause a tabloid furore, with explicit sex on film (but don't forget, kids, it ain't porn!). The female star was interviewed today in the Grauniad. I wonder if a certificate will be forthcoming from the BBFC? Perhaps they ought to do cross-promotion with these people?

Is that all? Well, nearly. Just a final plug for AMADEUS. You must come and see it...

Contact me soon if you want tickets...

12 May 2004

:: Hide & Seek ::

My annoyance at Ask Jeeves's latest bout of radio advertising (describing themselves as a "find engine") has reminded me of one of Tigger's better recent ideas.

We discussed this, incidentally just before last Saturday's gig outing to the Barfly. The three bands we heard deserve a mention: SantaCruz lost out a bit from being first on, but I enjoyed a lot of what they did. Hugo, the singer, pitches in somewhere between Brian Molko, snake-hipped "I'm a little teapot" impersonator Mick Jagger and the redoubtable Trent Manley Ford. Next up were Special Needs - friends of the SantaCruz lads and they've been featured on Xfm X:Posure! Finally we had no nonsense excellence from The Dash - despite being another band who's name requires a definite article, I thought they were very good.

Back to the original plot. Tigger's big idea: set a challenge to find a (specified) famous person. Celebrity stalking on a massive scale inspired by a weird dream, it seems. No doubt I shall be scalped if I reveal any more of this... I'm just waiting to hear the words: "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find Jane Horrocks and force feed her cherry tomatoes"

These are the various search terms people have used to find me recently:

capezzoli di venere recipe
vicissitude gurning
"morose ennui"
5 intersecting tetrahedra
raputin's penis
"corsair records"
"she pops balloons"

Is that eclectic enough for you?

:: Celeb(?) Spot ::

Was surprised to see a TV camera pointing at me as I tried to board the train this morning. Not being at my best in the morning, I was none too pleased to be confronted by the gurning Rogue Traders team. What had I done? Was I ripping off vulnerable housewives by claiming I could replumb their toilets? Am I engaged in a heinous scam to provide illegal immigrants with forged passports? Er, no...

My paranoia was allayed when they briskly jumped out of the carriage and headed off to hunt more rogues. Hardly celebs, but Matt Allwright was Head Boy at my school.

11 May 2004

:: Lording It Up ::

I had a delightful experience yesterday: Red Snapper was back in town and this was my last chance to see her before she returns to New Zealand. Suited up, I arrived at her rather exclusive hotel and we caught up over cocktails in the bar. She looks better than I've seen her in ages: trim, relaxed and vaguely glowing. As I sipped on a rather fabulous Negroni, who should we see sidle by but the new Doctor Who. As his name had irritatingly escaped us both, conversation soon returned to our recent life histories, and I must admit that the Snapper's has been rather more interesting than mine of late. Running bars in Mexico and surfing in Fiji were highlights on her itinerary before she settled in her current antipodean location and became a diving instructor. My paltry dramatic exploits seemed seedy by comparison and presently we adjourned to the Conservatory for dinner.

Thanks to Red Snapper's generosity, I was not forced to eat merely merely soup. A fabulous fois gras terrine was surrounded by a Morel pâté and slightly al dente celeriac. Reminiscent of the several occasions when she and I ordered confit of duck at Grumbles without even perusing the menu, we both plumped for the venerable mallard - neither of us was disappointed. All this was washed down with a delectable Chablis. The service was impeccable - unquestioningly polite, almost instantaneous, yet utterly unintrusive. My companion repeated her mantra that this place was for her "Forever England". I scarcely think Rupert Brooke will be turning in his grave at that quotation.

Talking of poetry, here's an amusing little ditty I shall be reciting on Friday:

Veneer
Peter Thomas

The woman at work’s husband works in veneer,
Says he lies on their sun-bed drinking cold beer.
Since Ikea’s “Norman Conquest” he’s tightened his belt
And he lost a few pounds in the process she felt,
But his PA is plain so there’s nothing to fear.
Yes, the woman at works husband works in veneer.

The woman at work’s husband works in veneer,
Says her daughter’s a stunner – says “You really should see ‘er”
And when she leaves school, she’ll work in television –
Or failing that, she'll become a beautician.
“But,” she said, “looks aren’t everything, you know, my dear!”
Yes, the woman at work’s husband works in veneer.

The woman at work’s husband works in veneer,
Says she’s having her hair done by a man called Pierre,
And had I seen the new chap in the office called Giles?
A dishy young graduate archiving files.
And she’s off to a health farm over New Year.
Yes, the woman at work’s husband works in veneer.

The woman at work’s husband works in veneer.
She confessed for a while that she’d thought it was queer:
“So many pretty girls in the office; well bar three”
And I'm single! A good-looking fella like me...
“Oh, and men!” She exclaimed, “All they do is leer.”
Yes the woman at work’s husband works in veneer.

The woman at work’s husband works in veneer,
Says they’re off for three weeks in the sun soon – here, here!
And off also to powder her nose she must fly,
So with her copy of Hello! she waved me goodbye,
And she glanced in the window of my office door,
I guess to check up on the make-up she wore.
And her husband works in veneer, so she said:
Making cheap bits of chipboard look expensive instead.


Made me laugh, anyway... That's it, I'm off to have a go at toothing...

07 May 2004

:: Faff-Free Friday ::

No time to write a decent post today... At least being busy in the office means I won't be falling asleep at my desk after last night's excesses.

In the absence of inspried linkage, take a look at this BBC letters page. I'm particularly fond of the one at the bottom entitled "Look North"...

05 May 2004

:: Twelve Things To Do On A Dreary Wednesday ::

1) Find out how stuff works.

2) Eat your weight in popcorn. This story intrigued me for several reasons. By how much would this increase the man's weight? Does he have some kind of excretion mechanism or isn't he allowed to go until the last kernel has been munched? I'm hoping for his sake that plain popcorn is being used. The prospect of being surrounded by popcorn of the greasy salted or sticky toffee variety fills me with horror.

3) You could always try writing the wrong way round in Taiwan, just for the adrenalin rush of behaving illicitly. It's interesting that they cite incompatibility of character and numeral systems as the reason for this change in the law. Arabic is an example of a script which has quite happily adopted to reading right-to-left with numerals from left to right.

4) In preparation for the summer getaway, you ought to get some practice in. Learn how to run your own balearic resort.

5) Some songs have lyrics which are unforgettable once heard. I read this article about the best lyrics, evah. Needless to say, I forgot the first line of the winning song almost instantaneously. Some thing about werewolves in Soho? See if you can do any better.

6) Delve into the world of corporate desperation. It seems both Pepsi and Coca-Cola are set to launch lo-carb cola drinks in the US. This is an obvious response to Atkins-induced lo-carb madness in a hugely mature market. How many more gallons of heavily sweetened fizzy water can each American consume? Not many, which explains why the big players are looking towards brand extensions and "value-added" lines to boost their flagging sales. An interesting aside, some scientists believe over-consumption of the cheap high-fructose corn syrup prevalent in US soft drinks (in Europe, ordinary sugar - sucrose - is used) is potentially harmful.

7) At a loose end? Maybe doing work experience in Germany might perk you up a bit.

8) Get on your high horse and protest at Disney's attempted censorship of Michael Moore.

9) Budding astronomers can compare their pics of last night's lunar eclipse.

10) We've all had enough of those pictures of Leslie Grantham. So perhaps you could find out more about his on-screen son. Visit a Nigel Harman fansite today!

11) Render your body hairless with a few of these products. Top gossip: I had my eyebrows waxed on Monday.

12) "Among all adults ages 45 to 64, the rate increased by 355 percent, to about 0.4 percent of that population." Something strange about that piece of analysis? Well, it's cited in this contrived piece of statistical manipulation. Fox News' scare tactics or a real cause for concern? Adults smoking jazz cigarettes will overrun the world! Perhaps you can explain to me why this is groundbreaking news...

Whoops! Did a couple of serious ones get through there? No political hat on today, but it appears even Colin Powell is sick of working for monkeys...

Aaaah!

Whack my bonobo!