Published on
20th of September 2006 in
General.
Both famous (Brock and Irwin) people are now buried and the media circus is over. Good (I must admit, I was waiting for Naomi Robson to do a whole show with a racing outfit and helmet on though – with reference to her lizard on shoulder show). Now the living can get on with business. And if I hear another person say “At least he died doing what he loved,” I will kill. I love tasting beers of all kinds, but I don’t want to die doing. This is because I want to enjoy more beer. The retarded logic behind saying that “at least [person's name] died doing what he/she loved” is astounding. Anyway…
The staff at my local bottleshop in Paddington were changing shifts at 4pm this afternoon. The delightful Canadian girl was leaving and Mr.Puffy was taking over until closing time. Ms. Canada is delightful. I’m there most afternoons and each afternoon I’ll buy one or two bottles of something. Each day I try something new and I’ve told them to make sure they get new lines in because I change bottleshops when I’ve drunk everything that they sell. Ms. Canada thinks my plan is fantastic. She shows me new beers, new pre-mixed drinks and new wines every day. She’s happy, polite and most importantly, knowledgable as far as alcoholic beverages go. The perfect lady.
Mr. Puffy, however, is a one beer man. He knows stuff all and if if he serves me when I buy a couple of Hoegaardens he screws up his face and recommends that I “stick to XXXX mate.” I don’t know how many times I have told him, but the reason that I don’t drink XXXX is because I need to stick my finger into the back of my throat after 4 or 5 XXXXs. He’s rude to the more refined customers that ask technical questions about wine selection. I’d like to tell them to just buy a bottle and fuck off too, but he’s running a shop so he should know at least a little about wines.
This afternoon a lady asked him if a chardonnay was dry on the palate. He screwed up his face and asked, “If it’s dry on the pallet when it’s delivered it’ll be dry in the fridge as well won’t it?” The posh lady left in a hurry. He didn’t even know what a human’s palate was. I tried to keep in my laughter but let out one of those nasal/throaty laughs that you can’t help doing when something funny happens and you don’t want to cause offence. I went home with my Canadian Club and Dry’s and am still wondering why this fellow bothers to keep working in a bottleshop.
Published on
15th of September 2006 in
General.
Online dating sites fascinate me. They are a very efficient and cheap way of enabling people to meet in this busy and impersonal world we live in. Whether your after a chess partner, a date, a night out dancing, a roll in the hay, a spouse, a whipping or an orgy complete with grapes and olive oil, the opportunity is there for you to meet the person of your dreams.
Take molecularfood. That’s his handle and he’s a 53 year old male from somewhere near Cairns who’s bravely put himself out there for all to consider (well, for ladies to consider anyway). His self-marketing spiel starts with, “I want to invent robotics for organic farming chores, Very keen to raise vegetarian kids on a tropical fruit tree farm. I want to grow the special fruits for a fruitarian’s diet. I live near Cairns in Australia – have plan to grow fruitarian’s raw food supply.” Good luck to him. And good luck to his kids too even though they’ll never know the glorious taste of rib fillet until they rebel at 16 years of age by going to a BBQ. He does reduce his chances of meeting someone when he makes the following list of requirements for a perfect first date…”Seek female vegetarian rawfoodist partner who loves sciences: ecology, robotics, and nature analysis.”
The problem with internet dating, from listening to friends who have tried it, is that it reduces your self-maketing spiel to a short sentence and a list. Much like modern media coverage of important events, even probable relationships are sought out and found by matching another person’s soundbite to your personal requirements.
Most people think that only the desperate use online match making services. No. There must be millions of people using these sites for so many to be operational. Occasionally the matches made can have dangerous outcomes and occasionally they result in happiness, but from what I’ve heard dating sites are no better at finding a friend/partner than simply walking into a pub, a club, a workplace or joining a sporting team or similar.
I dated, met good friends and subsequently got married by doing things the hard way I suppose. By talking to others, drinking beer with others and playing sport with others (actually, mainly by drinking beer in dimly lit establishments with loud guitar based music in the background). Living in shared houses thoughout my 20s also allowed me to meet fanastic people along with a few of the not-so fantastic. It was all good, but I can thoroughly recommend the hard way. It’s more fun than sitting in front of a computer screen to socialise.
Published on
8th of September 2006 in
General.
Please, please. May the next public figure to go be John Howard.
(PETER BROCK vs TREE – the tree won)
Published on
6th of September 2006 in
General.
Aww fuck! Mass displays of public mourning are happening…again!
Why the fucking surprise and shock? Honestly. Poke, prod, jump-on and get to close to wild creatures that are simply doing what they do best (minding their own business and concentrating on survival), and eventually something bad will happen.
Germaine Greer put it much the way I see it in an article in The Guardian. The best quote from it is, “Every creature he brandished at the camera was in distress. Every snake badgered by Irwin was at a huge disadvantage, with only a single possible reaction to its terrifying situation, which was to strike. Easy enough to avoid, if you know what’s coming. Even my cat knew that much.”
Said…