there's a country not far from here, a race not dissimilar to me.they arent hairy backed with big feet and live in Gondor,they are quite human i might say.they live in a little square inch of england and its called wales.Cardiff ,(sounds a little like non-milky butter),is its most cosmo city.its home to the millenium stadium and..uh uh
we dropped in on a big rugby day,millenium stadium was sure to be packed to the rafters,heaving like an over stuffed blood sausage. it was gonna blow ,splatter like a jackson pollock master piece.but only in time. that time was after the game,and boy did it splatter. the entire city of Cardiff got stuck into this sporting event like an over keen 13year old bear foot rugby player. people were bloodied in their red wales jerseys and flags. in a bit of a mental manoeuevr or not we decided to head to cardiff bay which is a hope skip and jump from the city centre rather then breathe in the drunken stench of a victorious country. i really needed to see a Richard Rogers building,the welsh general assembly.its pretty simple in its form,pretty transparent like all modern day public buildings,yet it has a ceiling which is gloriously detailed in strip timber in a most curvaceous,voluptuous way.you almost wana caress it.but its too high and you might just get a splinter.
on returning to the city after the rugger,there was absolute chaos-pubs packed and fish and chips shops doing over time.at the end of the exhausted night the city swam in a pool of its own vomit, in dirtied bags and short sleeved heroes. a crazy city indeed and one that needs to be torn apart
so monday nights are those slow ones where by i recharge the proverbial battery,stick on the telly, make a splash of pasta and increase by medical knowledge while watching ER. but a couple kids from work were heading to the 'poob' for a cupla toots.so i hailed my horse,rode on,lassooed the boy to his watering trough and sauntered into the Masque Bar.early enter early leave. and to Tescoes i did go.italian pasta made in england and mushroom sauce for the nights feasting,toothpaste for those glinting pearly whites and soap for a daisy freshness. packet in hand and i was going underground. im no paranoid android, but i see im being watched,or so i thought, by this foxy uber babe. now im a pretty mysterious sorta chap,never venturing to the same place at the same time on any given sunday.so i never usually catch the Highbarnet branch of the northern line but i figured on a night like this id launch a cherry flavoured assault on the aforementioned tiger. meanwhile out of the dark little pokey corner of my glazed blood shot eyeball i could see this other sugar enquiring about her journey from a boozer,with limp arms and sweaty armpits. in my opinion he was making an absolute abortion of the interrogation.
im just about to mount the super tube when the sugar asked me for directions. always keen to help, but 'caught between Iraq and a hard place' i answered with Yoda like wisdom. all of a sudden the doors begin to whistle,'come in boy or stay out cos this boats on the high road home.' my arms are all over the show- in the tube out the tube, with packet without packet. luckily i manage to extricate myself knowing that if i didnt id be a 'quarter chicken mild peri peri with fries on the side, oh and an ice cold coca cola to go.' but unlike Indiana jones who always retrieves his hat, my poor lonely bag of shnacks was caught hanging in the door,all exposed with nowhere to go.i waved like a storm trooper, but to no avail.
good bye little packet, it was nice to know you, may you and your contents feed a thousand impoverished ethiopians.
the serpentine gallery is a square. it sits in hydepark in a forest and rolling green scape. it aint much bigger than a rubics cube and in it an artist had injected it with an installation of everyday corridors. rather strange ill say.hmm contemporary art? what does it all mean?
ey oh far flung ones hope youre all doing well, and if you arent,suck on a Chupa Chup 'cos it aint gonna suck itself.
stay well, until we meet again adieu adieu
the dan russian bear hunter masters swordsman and stand in action figurine to Russel crow in the movie Gladiator.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Monday, March 13, 2006
Pat Cash
so i checked the weather forecast, it said rain expected. it rained.
its not about what you know,its about those connections we have,daniel has them.billy bumpkin elliot was on offer at the lowly price of 30 squiddinks,and oh yes we were gonna be given a hand,and sure as hell we were gonna take an arm, the arm came in the form of the chocloates daniel gave as a gift.once again theatre just wasnt for me.firstly cos id have to sit next to someone,the second cos of bad past experiences.but billy elliot blew his duck whistle and the chaito man came a flying in,thank goodness there were no blood hounds and duck hunters.victoria palace with is plush velvety red flip up chairs, flowred carpets and hand scooped interior decorations was were it was stationed.we sat pretty high up,but no bother. the show was,as daniel put it totally gay but totally sweet.great music, great dancing-it was all like a big sugar dusted jelly donut.the kid ,billy would surely have done his grandma proud
the weekend was full of the goodness and richness that a well mulched garden manure heap should be.
i dunno ive always had this sorta thing for Kate Moss,she's this sorta enigmatic tiger.she isnt gorgeous or beautifully hot.she's got this sorta razor blade edge to her.she has this like killer look to her.she could probably stare you down and turn you into Morphs cousin.so anyhoo theres been a lot of media surrounding her, but ive been with her all the way.saturday was a day when i came the closest ill probably ever come to this absolute peach. it was a photographic exhibition of her when she was say 18,untainted by powdery blow and the glories of rock n roll, unscarred by million squid clothing deals, and unscented by liquid gold perfume sponsorships.she was as raw as the freshly pulled carrot from your backyard veggie garden. however all these wee chips on the roulette table have given her the rock chick status i have so come to favour. its not about going into an ice cream parlour and choosing between ordinary strawberry and vanilla,its about that flavour that no one really digs.
the gallery sidles itself off on a side street away from the worst that tourism has to offer-crowds,huge f*ckin crowds. i hate crowds. the white washed modern cube interior in which her images were portrayed was a simple,humble canvas onto which she could be devoured by my googling eyes.wow.
the gallery and the images of kate,gently emblazoned into the valleys and ridges of my marshmellow brain,led me into mayfair, old bond street and the ever so close yet at the moment,far, Saville Row. the road is quiet,not at all intimidating.advertising is subdued,the asking price for a handchiselled suit simply aint. a 2000 pound suit ,cappucino-hold the sprinkles- and a mint will be mine,oh yes it will.
there was an anime exhibition on the south bank,around 6months ago,i though it had disappeared,it hadnt. animae or manga is id say a japanesey kind of cartoon. often the characters are well versed in cutting humans in half with their bare hands. the detailing is often explicit. it was one image that absolutely plucked my heart out, dusted it in sugar powder and placed a silver spoon into its depths. it was an image entitled 'chick in a club'. she dripped my pure syrupy fantasy.its rather cooky how an image could be so damn intimidating,so damn fine.
monday nights are slow chilled and i went to a lecture by Eric Owen Moss.
university days had seen me thumbing my way through books by this kid and many others. i knew the library-its strange ordering system, its danky smell-the library was my salvation, and my nickname became turbonerd.
eric owen moss is an american with the thickest american accent,thicker than a dolls house double malt with sprinkles.his tongue was so drawn out it was as though he'd just smoked the biggest fattest bob marley rolled joint this side of the caribbean.his humour was as dry as a 2day old turkey, tomato and lettuce sandwich.this oke was brilliant,he didnt speak of 'his' buildings, rather about a building that was built..this kid's work is hot,sh*t hot.he's like the rock band Oasis-he has this sort of f*ck-off attitude,like f*ck it 'im good,i know im good,you know im good,so lets cut the crap and get on with it.'i dig it. what he produces takes balls,and his balls are iron clad,pre-rusted and swollen to 8 times their original size.
uncle eric, thumbs up to you boy.
aar sunday mornings-i dont wanna be in bed,and i dont wanna sleep.whats a lad to do?so i munch my granola,ingest 750mills of h2o,get on my horse and ride.
the camden town arts centre sits on finchley road.an exhibition by hilda af klint. she's a swede id never heard of, i thought it was klimt,but hey who ever knows these things.this swedish babe or not was really cooked-she was into astronomy and speaking to the dead and out would pop art.brr that gave me the shivers.so i skimmed her work, stood close,stood far,read the insets and came out a knowledgeable lad. i must add the building itself was really the fine piece of art.its light parquet flloors, whited walls, bronzed iron mongery streaming natural light and a garden you could play lawn tennis in.go see it,it might just excite you.
so i leave the centre and strolling up the road,somee dude in his VW honks his horn and asks me,'ey mate, y'know where camden market is?', so i say'yeah,camden town'.
anyhoo good folk keep it keep ,keep it running and dont forget 'cool kids play with lego.'
sweetly
the chaito man, russain bear hunter master swordsman and red indellible crayon, yellow and blue sold separately
its not about what you know,its about those connections we have,daniel has them.billy bumpkin elliot was on offer at the lowly price of 30 squiddinks,and oh yes we were gonna be given a hand,and sure as hell we were gonna take an arm, the arm came in the form of the chocloates daniel gave as a gift.once again theatre just wasnt for me.firstly cos id have to sit next to someone,the second cos of bad past experiences.but billy elliot blew his duck whistle and the chaito man came a flying in,thank goodness there were no blood hounds and duck hunters.victoria palace with is plush velvety red flip up chairs, flowred carpets and hand scooped interior decorations was were it was stationed.we sat pretty high up,but no bother. the show was,as daniel put it totally gay but totally sweet.great music, great dancing-it was all like a big sugar dusted jelly donut.the kid ,billy would surely have done his grandma proud
the weekend was full of the goodness and richness that a well mulched garden manure heap should be.
i dunno ive always had this sorta thing for Kate Moss,she's this sorta enigmatic tiger.she isnt gorgeous or beautifully hot.she's got this sorta razor blade edge to her.she has this like killer look to her.she could probably stare you down and turn you into Morphs cousin.so anyhoo theres been a lot of media surrounding her, but ive been with her all the way.saturday was a day when i came the closest ill probably ever come to this absolute peach. it was a photographic exhibition of her when she was say 18,untainted by powdery blow and the glories of rock n roll, unscarred by million squid clothing deals, and unscented by liquid gold perfume sponsorships.she was as raw as the freshly pulled carrot from your backyard veggie garden. however all these wee chips on the roulette table have given her the rock chick status i have so come to favour. its not about going into an ice cream parlour and choosing between ordinary strawberry and vanilla,its about that flavour that no one really digs.
the gallery sidles itself off on a side street away from the worst that tourism has to offer-crowds,huge f*ckin crowds. i hate crowds. the white washed modern cube interior in which her images were portrayed was a simple,humble canvas onto which she could be devoured by my googling eyes.wow.
the gallery and the images of kate,gently emblazoned into the valleys and ridges of my marshmellow brain,led me into mayfair, old bond street and the ever so close yet at the moment,far, Saville Row. the road is quiet,not at all intimidating.advertising is subdued,the asking price for a handchiselled suit simply aint. a 2000 pound suit ,cappucino-hold the sprinkles- and a mint will be mine,oh yes it will.
there was an anime exhibition on the south bank,around 6months ago,i though it had disappeared,it hadnt. animae or manga is id say a japanesey kind of cartoon. often the characters are well versed in cutting humans in half with their bare hands. the detailing is often explicit. it was one image that absolutely plucked my heart out, dusted it in sugar powder and placed a silver spoon into its depths. it was an image entitled 'chick in a club'. she dripped my pure syrupy fantasy.its rather cooky how an image could be so damn intimidating,so damn fine.
monday nights are slow chilled and i went to a lecture by Eric Owen Moss.
university days had seen me thumbing my way through books by this kid and many others. i knew the library-its strange ordering system, its danky smell-the library was my salvation, and my nickname became turbonerd.
eric owen moss is an american with the thickest american accent,thicker than a dolls house double malt with sprinkles.his tongue was so drawn out it was as though he'd just smoked the biggest fattest bob marley rolled joint this side of the caribbean.his humour was as dry as a 2day old turkey, tomato and lettuce sandwich.this oke was brilliant,he didnt speak of 'his' buildings, rather about a building that was built..this kid's work is hot,sh*t hot.he's like the rock band Oasis-he has this sort of f*ck-off attitude,like f*ck it 'im good,i know im good,you know im good,so lets cut the crap and get on with it.'i dig it. what he produces takes balls,and his balls are iron clad,pre-rusted and swollen to 8 times their original size.
uncle eric, thumbs up to you boy.
aar sunday mornings-i dont wanna be in bed,and i dont wanna sleep.whats a lad to do?so i munch my granola,ingest 750mills of h2o,get on my horse and ride.
the camden town arts centre sits on finchley road.an exhibition by hilda af klint. she's a swede id never heard of, i thought it was klimt,but hey who ever knows these things.this swedish babe or not was really cooked-she was into astronomy and speaking to the dead and out would pop art.brr that gave me the shivers.so i skimmed her work, stood close,stood far,read the insets and came out a knowledgeable lad. i must add the building itself was really the fine piece of art.its light parquet flloors, whited walls, bronzed iron mongery streaming natural light and a garden you could play lawn tennis in.go see it,it might just excite you.
so i leave the centre and strolling up the road,somee dude in his VW honks his horn and asks me,'ey mate, y'know where camden market is?', so i say'yeah,camden town'.
anyhoo good folk keep it keep ,keep it running and dont forget 'cool kids play with lego.'
sweetly
the chaito man, russain bear hunter master swordsman and red indellible crayon, yellow and blue sold separately
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
table tennis 01.03.2006
these past few weeks have been like an amstel beer, slow brewed yet extra matured.ive been patient waiting for the egg to crack, to splatter itslef all over the show,to stain the linoleum floor tiles,and leave me with a story.let that egg splatter as it will, is waht i say.
have you ever been so pissed off that you wanted to turn into the hulk, tear the fluff out of your sisters teddy bear and burn it at the stake?.well thats how i felt after my ebay experience,it all began when graham sent me an email suggesting i read a book called One city,tis about edinburgh,so i thought hey ill give it a wee squizz.so i championed my way to charing cross road where all the book stores lie, rummaged through the ol dirty second hand book stores,and emerged smelling as though id just exited some grandma's flat, minus the stale chocolate.needless to say i didnt find the book.eventually i blazed into Foyles, requested the book,but at a scorching 5 pound 50, i thought 'gsus with that dosh i could buy an oil field in nigeria and a farm on Rissik street', i figured id jump into the unknown abyss,aqualaungs and all and go bidding on ebay,ooh ebay,each letter glowing ina primary colour, each letter written in kids writing, leaving me thinking this is like playing in the sand pit-ill get a few diseases, ill ahve fun and at the end of the day the sand castle i was building would emerge.,ooh ooh.so i found the book.bids kicked off at a whopping 99p,i already knew i had a winner.so i threw in an unbeatable 1 squid 20 and waited for the bid to brew and consume all pretenders.a week later i notice 2 squid 70,it topped me.not cool i say.for some reason, one unbeknownest to me, i eventually won the bid.dont ask i just did.but now the seller wished to use a 3rd party,the only 3rd party i know is the one i go to when im liquored up after the second party.now setting up this 3rd party pay thing just wasnt easy, and this was the point where i wished to turn into a crazy lad in a rubber room beating the shee-ite outta my work colleague. setting up this frikkin account took like 2weeks.eventually i overcame,today i have since read the book and am far more re-laxed.great book graham, and id say it was worth the absolute torture
hampton court palace, its a palace thats bigger than castle grey skull,older than the smurf village, and it nestles in suburbia,which i found rather cooky.there were these folk dressed in victoriana clothing and spoke as though they had jacket pottaoes propelled up their butts.however what they said was most informative.i traipsed this wee castle like the fat bastard henry the 8th did but couldnt find the tv room.i strolled strolled the gardens with their toppiaried trees and symmetrical layouts and got my kickers dirty. twas a toit day, a day i flew Han Solo.
Ah Bath, what a gloriously wee town. a 3 hour bus ride with my fav show on board-Top Gear. its stoned in white and cobbled like a lunch bar. we had 4 hours of daylight to kill, 1 hour we beat munching fish and greasy chips,the other hours were spent cooking chicken soup style in the Roman Baths themselves .befiitting a town named Bath,there were baths.now im no latin geek, although i was one,but this lil place left me totally excited.warm naturally heated pools of green water surrounded by rough stone. and then there was the inevitable body of water filled with coins,gsus,why do folk lob their coins into water,what the f*ck is so thrilling about it?.rather go gambling.someone once said it was lucky to throw coins but someone also once said that the policeman in Noddy was gay.
i went to this lecture by the RIBA gold medal winner, its an architecture award.awarded to the gretaest architect of the year, the architect that has the grreatest influence on the world, from days gone by and will have an influence into infinty and beyond.toyo ito, is actually a tall japanese human, i figured most japs were yay high(id be indicating height with my hand at this point in time).now his architecture was pretty swell.only prob was he couldnt utter much english even if his life depended on it.so i figure the bruce lee interparting his words didnt do him much justice.nevertheless his architecture did have a certain , shall i say 'gin e say quae' about it.
this past thursday needed to be stuffed like a christmas turkey.before a farewell party i needed to show face at, i decided id go to a lecture at the AA, archticture association.the speaker was the great charles jencks.this kid was a guy that i studied with,well not really.many of my lectures at varsity used him to cause riots in our minds, to get us thinking,get us feeling like bumbling idiots.now i was gonna hear the lad speak directly to me.this is excatly whats kiling me bout this lil island.im engaging with the greteast that architecture and culture has to offer.back home these greats were invincible, a little like the super hero i am, althought hey dont have similar see-through-wall super powers.
so im gonna kill this email with a quote i found quite cool, cool cos it sorta reminds me of one of my favorite movies,Alien, and if you think about it long enough you might just have a nighmare. Eminem told ROLLING STONE Magazine, 'i would rather have a baby through my p*nis than get married again.';
quote of the century, heard at the Charles Jencks lecture: 'arrtichokes are what dyslexic folk call architects.'
ey folks, ive sort of put all my scracthings on a blog if you wanna check them out.someone told me that once my scratchings found themselves on a blog then that would force me to do some editing..........................riiiiighhhht
http://scratchingsofdan.blogspot.com/
have you ever been so pissed off that you wanted to turn into the hulk, tear the fluff out of your sisters teddy bear and burn it at the stake?.well thats how i felt after my ebay experience,it all began when graham sent me an email suggesting i read a book called One city,tis about edinburgh,so i thought hey ill give it a wee squizz.so i championed my way to charing cross road where all the book stores lie, rummaged through the ol dirty second hand book stores,and emerged smelling as though id just exited some grandma's flat, minus the stale chocolate.needless to say i didnt find the book.eventually i blazed into Foyles, requested the book,but at a scorching 5 pound 50, i thought 'gsus with that dosh i could buy an oil field in nigeria and a farm on Rissik street', i figured id jump into the unknown abyss,aqualaungs and all and go bidding on ebay,ooh ebay,each letter glowing ina primary colour, each letter written in kids writing, leaving me thinking this is like playing in the sand pit-ill get a few diseases, ill ahve fun and at the end of the day the sand castle i was building would emerge.,ooh ooh.so i found the book.bids kicked off at a whopping 99p,i already knew i had a winner.so i threw in an unbeatable 1 squid 20 and waited for the bid to brew and consume all pretenders.a week later i notice 2 squid 70,it topped me.not cool i say.for some reason, one unbeknownest to me, i eventually won the bid.dont ask i just did.but now the seller wished to use a 3rd party,the only 3rd party i know is the one i go to when im liquored up after the second party.now setting up this 3rd party pay thing just wasnt easy, and this was the point where i wished to turn into a crazy lad in a rubber room beating the shee-ite outta my work colleague. setting up this frikkin account took like 2weeks.eventually i overcame,today i have since read the book and am far more re-laxed.great book graham, and id say it was worth the absolute torture
hampton court palace, its a palace thats bigger than castle grey skull,older than the smurf village, and it nestles in suburbia,which i found rather cooky.there were these folk dressed in victoriana clothing and spoke as though they had jacket pottaoes propelled up their butts.however what they said was most informative.i traipsed this wee castle like the fat bastard henry the 8th did but couldnt find the tv room.i strolled strolled the gardens with their toppiaried trees and symmetrical layouts and got my kickers dirty. twas a toit day, a day i flew Han Solo.
Ah Bath, what a gloriously wee town. a 3 hour bus ride with my fav show on board-Top Gear. its stoned in white and cobbled like a lunch bar. we had 4 hours of daylight to kill, 1 hour we beat munching fish and greasy chips,the other hours were spent cooking chicken soup style in the Roman Baths themselves .befiitting a town named Bath,there were baths.now im no latin geek, although i was one,but this lil place left me totally excited.warm naturally heated pools of green water surrounded by rough stone. and then there was the inevitable body of water filled with coins,gsus,why do folk lob their coins into water,what the f*ck is so thrilling about it?.rather go gambling.someone once said it was lucky to throw coins but someone also once said that the policeman in Noddy was gay.
i went to this lecture by the RIBA gold medal winner, its an architecture award.awarded to the gretaest architect of the year, the architect that has the grreatest influence on the world, from days gone by and will have an influence into infinty and beyond.toyo ito, is actually a tall japanese human, i figured most japs were yay high(id be indicating height with my hand at this point in time).now his architecture was pretty swell.only prob was he couldnt utter much english even if his life depended on it.so i figure the bruce lee interparting his words didnt do him much justice.nevertheless his architecture did have a certain , shall i say 'gin e say quae' about it.
this past thursday needed to be stuffed like a christmas turkey.before a farewell party i needed to show face at, i decided id go to a lecture at the AA, archticture association.the speaker was the great charles jencks.this kid was a guy that i studied with,well not really.many of my lectures at varsity used him to cause riots in our minds, to get us thinking,get us feeling like bumbling idiots.now i was gonna hear the lad speak directly to me.this is excatly whats kiling me bout this lil island.im engaging with the greteast that architecture and culture has to offer.back home these greats were invincible, a little like the super hero i am, althought hey dont have similar see-through-wall super powers.
so im gonna kill this email with a quote i found quite cool, cool cos it sorta reminds me of one of my favorite movies,Alien, and if you think about it long enough you might just have a nighmare. Eminem told ROLLING STONE Magazine, 'i would rather have a baby through my p*nis than get married again.';
quote of the century, heard at the Charles Jencks lecture: 'arrtichokes are what dyslexic folk call architects.'
ey folks, ive sort of put all my scracthings on a blog if you wanna check them out.someone told me that once my scratchings found themselves on a blog then that would force me to do some editing..........................riiiiighhhht
http://scratchingsofdan.blogspot.com/
08.08.2005
um uh in my previous mail on Oxford i failed to mention that the garden style at magdalene differed largely from that of christ church.magdalen was very much an immaculate pristine garden -very bright in colour and well kept, whereas st johns was far more random in style,very engish country side,some might say 'the eclectic paintbrush was in full flight in this garden.'on thursday my boss sent out an email enquiring if anyone wished to have some of his free-range hand-picked courgettes(zuchini for the uninformed) that had been reared in his garden....i took 2.what ill do with them is still to be decided.you know what pisses me off:theres this bird in the office who has a cold and she keeps shnarfing her shnot.it really pisses me off. 'get a fu**ing tissue why dont you, have a little common decency for the squemish few out there, Mary(names have been changed so as not to offend the accused party.because the accused party offers me chocolate chip cookies evry now and then.at the moment im working on on a building in dubai.you see they say dubai will run out of that liquorice coloured stuff which everybody wants commonly known as oil.so theyre turning to tourism in order to bring home the bread.we're doing a building, a natural history museum in an area allocated the name,.....drum roll squire...Dubailand, ver krys sayks jimie. the building is sheathed in this stuff called ETFE, its like bubble wrap.my sister would dig it cos she could piss me off by popping the wee bubbles, and relaxing at the same time.and this little story led me to visit the london natural history museum...gsus they make their museums large here.as yet i havent completed a single museum.anyhoo this museum was filled with tourists and whales and elephants and dinosaurs and big worlds constructed of steel,
two weeks ago weekend was also big because i did my first load of washing......ever.i was uber concerned cos my tshirts are like sweet gold to me, and i was told not to mix colours and whites,but then a curve ball was thrown at me when i questioned what yellow tshirts are.are they colours or are they whites.it so happened that i did a pretty good job,and they didnt even need ironing cos i hung them pretty damn well if i do say so meself.friday swung by,however i rrealised on my way to work that i forgot to bring my wholewheat baguette with me.you see i store my condiments in the office fridge, however without a bagutte, you and your condiments are stranded, lingering in no mans land.so i sent out an eamil to all of the staff enquiring as to whtehr anyone knew where i could get a sweet baguette, anhyoo it so landed up that all those that responded responded with sweet FA.so i went on my merry way in search of the baguette,not unlike Frodo's search for that glorious elusive ring. well as i neared the cusp of the hill in holborn, i saw the peach glowing light of a Sainsbury's, hmm sweet Sainsburys. so i circled the sainsburys and then pounced like a tiger on a wee baby buck.found me a sweet white flavoursome fresh baguette,and would you believe,it was the last one on offer,wikeed. that baguette was to me what the fleece,the golden one, was to jason.but alas jason couldnt smother his fleece in white cheese and coleslaw.hmm hmmwell i must add that i held this email back for a while since i went through a rather testing time on this wee island. the joy that i was writing wasnt what i had been feeling,but alas im back and have more to say so hold tight,check for your exits to the left and right,check for that under seat airmask, which i dont believer really exists, raise your backrests,your lunch trays,stick on a dayvaday and enjoy the ride.
the weekend of august the 6th has just rolled by.i cracked open really early saturday morn to go with christie to an archi exhibition near totenham court road entitled New London Architecture.it was a pretty neat exhibition in that it exposed all that these barbarians ( a term the great Julius Caesar used which means bearded ones) were intending to do on this island.at the moment london is pretty low rise, but as the future rolls on,she will grow upwards puncturingthe heavens with her shards of glass, her gherkins, her wedges of cheese, all carved by the greats-norm foster ,richard rogers and rem koolhaas.once again folks hold on to them seats.we then found ourselves in a store called Muji,pretty japanesey i might add, and a belt and a book i did buy. so we watched the rugger in belsize park,an affluent ,leafy suburb,a great one indeed.but its crazy cos next to these expensive buidlings emerges the horror of all horrors-council flats.but anyway every one seems dandy in their place, and each person knows their place.
i had a great chuckle on sunday 7the august. i was on the red bus 128 to golders green station.honestly the roads were packed. the bus could only edge ever so slowly,then coming from the aisle, some hairy backed gargantuan english homo erectus speciman of a lady blurts out 'come on bus driver get a move on,i dunno wann be heer all day.', so now im properly laging, cos honestly where the F**k was the poor driver supposed to go, so then the driver blurts out,'geez lady what you wana me to do, fly?. anyhoo the bird rolled off the bus and actually said, 'thanks driver'. hows that for kooky?
hmm portobello road, now its this sorta road that i came to london for. some really uber saweet antique shops,proper antiques,and old jackets and old WG grace style cricket bats and all the other shyte youve been hoarding and your mom wants you to chuck out .by the way i used to stick potatoes in my cupboards so that they would grow-and oh boy did they grow.(once again thats for another day.)
reason for portobello road?-the prtobello road film festival.the festival was housed in two studios, the one which me and garon went to (westbourne) was an uber sick little buildig,a double volume, which was actually situated underneath the highway, so the highway underside formed the sculptural concrete roof/ceilign of the studio. the studio also housed a way cool lounge and vast images on windows. we watched around 5 or 6 short flicks,some were really shyte and some were f**king shyte, one was good. however the experience of place was what i loved most. then onto Fruitstock we went. fruitstock is a free for all music festival in regents park sponsored by fruit juice.we landed up there for like an hour,but that was a quality hour i most enjoyed. its crazy but if you could picture the attendants at the original Woodstock back in the late i think 60s, you would see those exact folk and now too, their offspring.it really is a joyous thing to witness
gsus im tired,sorry folks just bear with me.
the day finally ended with a burger, sweet mary jane. this was no ordinary burger, this was the gourmet burger we all wish we could have, its the one we dream of night after night,its the one you wish your son or daughter would bring home.it epitomises goodness in this crazy mixed up world. its what rob roy and william wallace really fought for, F**k freedom i say,its all about the fresh butter lettuce, the voluptous red tomato-perfectly rounded. its the relish you grew up with on the farm-thats if you grew up on a farm, its the bun that the baker man would have spent hours kneeding, rolling and baking. oh my word may we all drop our weapons and indulge in a burger from gourmet burger in Hampstead. 'batteries chips and coldrinks each sold seperately.'
and lastly while i was waiting for a bus home which took an extraordinarily long time to arrive i started hucking this brazillian.so i told her, 'gees ive never met a brazilain',and then she said 'thats crazy, ' and then proceeded to point too the shops in whicha arazillian worked. gees didnt i fnow eel like a half baked turd, but i hoped on the bus and bid her farewell, and thats led me to bid each and everyone of you, adiuefrom the scratchiings of my brainthe dan russian bear hunter and pinball wizard
two weeks ago weekend was also big because i did my first load of washing......ever.i was uber concerned cos my tshirts are like sweet gold to me, and i was told not to mix colours and whites,but then a curve ball was thrown at me when i questioned what yellow tshirts are.are they colours or are they whites.it so happened that i did a pretty good job,and they didnt even need ironing cos i hung them pretty damn well if i do say so meself.friday swung by,however i rrealised on my way to work that i forgot to bring my wholewheat baguette with me.you see i store my condiments in the office fridge, however without a bagutte, you and your condiments are stranded, lingering in no mans land.so i sent out an eamil to all of the staff enquiring as to whtehr anyone knew where i could get a sweet baguette, anhyoo it so landed up that all those that responded responded with sweet FA.so i went on my merry way in search of the baguette,not unlike Frodo's search for that glorious elusive ring. well as i neared the cusp of the hill in holborn, i saw the peach glowing light of a Sainsbury's, hmm sweet Sainsburys. so i circled the sainsburys and then pounced like a tiger on a wee baby buck.found me a sweet white flavoursome fresh baguette,and would you believe,it was the last one on offer,wikeed. that baguette was to me what the fleece,the golden one, was to jason.but alas jason couldnt smother his fleece in white cheese and coleslaw.hmm hmmwell i must add that i held this email back for a while since i went through a rather testing time on this wee island. the joy that i was writing wasnt what i had been feeling,but alas im back and have more to say so hold tight,check for your exits to the left and right,check for that under seat airmask, which i dont believer really exists, raise your backrests,your lunch trays,stick on a dayvaday and enjoy the ride.
the weekend of august the 6th has just rolled by.i cracked open really early saturday morn to go with christie to an archi exhibition near totenham court road entitled New London Architecture.it was a pretty neat exhibition in that it exposed all that these barbarians ( a term the great Julius Caesar used which means bearded ones) were intending to do on this island.at the moment london is pretty low rise, but as the future rolls on,she will grow upwards puncturingthe heavens with her shards of glass, her gherkins, her wedges of cheese, all carved by the greats-norm foster ,richard rogers and rem koolhaas.once again folks hold on to them seats.we then found ourselves in a store called Muji,pretty japanesey i might add, and a belt and a book i did buy. so we watched the rugger in belsize park,an affluent ,leafy suburb,a great one indeed.but its crazy cos next to these expensive buidlings emerges the horror of all horrors-council flats.but anyway every one seems dandy in their place, and each person knows their place.
i had a great chuckle on sunday 7the august. i was on the red bus 128 to golders green station.honestly the roads were packed. the bus could only edge ever so slowly,then coming from the aisle, some hairy backed gargantuan english homo erectus speciman of a lady blurts out 'come on bus driver get a move on,i dunno wann be heer all day.', so now im properly laging, cos honestly where the F**k was the poor driver supposed to go, so then the driver blurts out,'geez lady what you wana me to do, fly?. anyhoo the bird rolled off the bus and actually said, 'thanks driver'. hows that for kooky?
hmm portobello road, now its this sorta road that i came to london for. some really uber saweet antique shops,proper antiques,and old jackets and old WG grace style cricket bats and all the other shyte youve been hoarding and your mom wants you to chuck out .by the way i used to stick potatoes in my cupboards so that they would grow-and oh boy did they grow.(once again thats for another day.)
reason for portobello road?-the prtobello road film festival.the festival was housed in two studios, the one which me and garon went to (westbourne) was an uber sick little buildig,a double volume, which was actually situated underneath the highway, so the highway underside formed the sculptural concrete roof/ceilign of the studio. the studio also housed a way cool lounge and vast images on windows. we watched around 5 or 6 short flicks,some were really shyte and some were f**king shyte, one was good. however the experience of place was what i loved most. then onto Fruitstock we went. fruitstock is a free for all music festival in regents park sponsored by fruit juice.we landed up there for like an hour,but that was a quality hour i most enjoyed. its crazy but if you could picture the attendants at the original Woodstock back in the late i think 60s, you would see those exact folk and now too, their offspring.it really is a joyous thing to witness
gsus im tired,sorry folks just bear with me.
the day finally ended with a burger, sweet mary jane. this was no ordinary burger, this was the gourmet burger we all wish we could have, its the one we dream of night after night,its the one you wish your son or daughter would bring home.it epitomises goodness in this crazy mixed up world. its what rob roy and william wallace really fought for, F**k freedom i say,its all about the fresh butter lettuce, the voluptous red tomato-perfectly rounded. its the relish you grew up with on the farm-thats if you grew up on a farm, its the bun that the baker man would have spent hours kneeding, rolling and baking. oh my word may we all drop our weapons and indulge in a burger from gourmet burger in Hampstead. 'batteries chips and coldrinks each sold seperately.'
and lastly while i was waiting for a bus home which took an extraordinarily long time to arrive i started hucking this brazillian.so i told her, 'gees ive never met a brazilain',and then she said 'thats crazy, ' and then proceeded to point too the shops in whicha arazillian worked. gees didnt i fnow eel like a half baked turd, but i hoped on the bus and bid her farewell, and thats led me to bid each and everyone of you, adiuefrom the scratchiings of my brainthe dan russian bear hunter and pinball wizard
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