The definitive list of junk for today

1. Old lady who left her dog 6 million pounds and left two of her grandchildren none, stating in her will that 'They would know why.' Bitter to the end. i want to steal her dog. And laugh at those two grandkids who probably told her that pot-pourri stinks or something trivial like that. Cop that! All they'll be able to afford is Pot-Poor-ie! Ha! Bam!

2. I have (somewhat) brown, short hair.

3. Spam makes me feel inadequate. Today i got one that said 'Join the Real Men's club' It was for penis pills. I remain an outsider of the 'Real Men's club'

4. Look at this guy:



Spam sometimes makes me feel extremely adequate.
Although that guy clearly is wearing a wedding ring... Puzzling. Imagine being married to the Spam guy. I bet he could 'Spice' up a relationship. Oh, z!ng.

5. Our new landlord reminds me of an high school art teacher. As in a little bit jilted and slightly high.

6. Balsamic sauce and soy sauce are stored in similar looking bottles. This is bad as adding balsamic to a stirfry really ruins the meal. I learnt this recently.

7. If you ignore people you don't like, they seldom go away. Unless they're trapped in quicksand. If you ignore them then, they'll definitely go away.

8. Vaccuum cleaners need to be emptied occasionally. The one at our new place blew up on the weekend. Upon closer inspection, the dust catcher had so much shit jammed in there, it looked like someone had rolled up a mattress and jammed it in. Likewise with the backup vaccuum... It too contained enough lint to fill a million fat men's bellybuttons.

9. Ikea in England is like AIDS in Africa. No matter where you go, there's some trace of Ikea in every house. We contributed to the epidemic recently (The Ikea one, not the AIDS one) by purchasing some of the more tasteful items they offer.

10. Being shat on by a bird is god's way of saying 'You look really nice, but I'm jealous.'


11. I should apologise for my terrible, terrible puns. Sorry

I have to go back to work now.

JC

Out of the shoebox and into.... the corpse?

Finally.
We're getting the hell out of our goddam shobox/bedroom/current house.

A new house has been found, 2 bedrooms, big lounge, awesome location, nice landlady who seals the lease with wine... It's got it all.
Moving in with Pinner and Lisa, which will be good- Nice to finally have good company. And a lounge room.
Planning trips to ikea and various other homewares places to give the new place a bit of a personal touch. Meaning, pictures and lamps and stuff, not 'in the pants' personal touch. Eww.
This shitty box-room we've been existing in is about 3m x 4m. There's a bed and a wardobe and a set of drawers. It's been our lounge room, dining room, bedroom, laundry...
We've been like insects stuck in a tiny little glass box that some fat little kid keeps tapping with his stubby little sausage fingers.

Which reminds me:
Some guy in Berlin got bitten by his pet Black Widow spider named Bettina.
He died, then some thing in his pet enclosure blew up, allowing snakes, tarantulas, termites and all manner of scary-ass creatures to escape. Police discovered his body '7-14 days' later, being eaten by these scary-ass creatures. And a gecko named Helmut. Yes, Helmut.
What the hell?!
Crazy germans. Killed by a spider called Bettina, then eaten by a bunch of evil creatures and a gecko called Helmut.
I think Helmut was probably a nice gecko-kid, but wasn't breastfed, or didn't get hugged enough or something. Before his parents knew it, he was hangin' with the 6-leggers. Then those bad-ass 8 leggers. Then before they knew it, little Helmut is tearing large strips of his owner and taking them back to the tarantulas to feast on. (Again, paraphrased from trusty English rag 'The Sun')

Global warming, terrorism, nuclear arms... These are all minor threats compared to the very real possibility of insect/arachnid death squads escaping their confines and eating whoever happens to die in front of them.

You remember that little green gecko in the Bridgestone ads? The ones with Brocky in them?
Next thing you know: Dead Brocky.
Put two and two together and I say Helmut's been a busy little Gecko.

Food

So this weekend, I ate an ostrich.
Not a whole one, but part of one. Part of one, or possibly parts of many that had then been squeezed through a mincer and made into a sausage.
Surprisingly tasty. Kind of like chicken, but a bit more gamey.
I was afforded the opportunity to partake in such fare at the Borough Market, which are these awesome little food markets near London Bridge.
Charlotte and I also did the week's fruit and veg shopping there and being the growing boy I am, I also had a Damascan Falafel which rated an 'awesome' on the taste-o-meter.
I also saw the weirdest method for making a toasted cheese sandwich, which basically involved taking half a wheel of cheese, heating the width of it and scraping the melted layer onto the bread, see below:


A good day out though. More pictures from the outing updated on my flickr page

A forgotten bit of news from a week or so ago. We went to a 'warehouse party', the old school style parties where no one gets told where it is until 7pm on the night, then everyone turns up to a disused warehouse (Or in our case, parking lot) and makes party-like.
We went and checked it out for about an hour, but due to grandparent-esque tiredness, we only stayed for about an hour and made our way home.

It's now a balmy Monday evening and had best be getting to bed. (Read: Charlotte wants her computer back.)

Farewell for now.

J

PS: Happy birthday Mum!

Night Out

Last night went to the Slug and Lettuce in Fulham. It's a pub. A chain-pub.
Horrible place.
Imagine 900 decibels of the worst music you could imagine, including a dance remix of Bon Jovi, Ace Of Base and way more other junk. Full of pissed annoying Aussies too.
On the upside I saw a pair of midget twins that looked like oompa loompas. I wanted to knit them tiny suits and make them sing and dance. Charlotte said this would probably not be an appropriate thing to do. She's so wise.

Going to the Borough markets this weekend and starting to look for a new house as we're sick of our current shoebox.

Fear not, exciting things on the horizon. Which translates to less boredom for you, my weary readers.

As they say in England,

Bye.