‹ 31.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Squirrel Fishing: "The Division of Engineering and Applied Sciences ... has significantly expanded its Computer Systems work in recent years. However, there has been a noticeable lack of quality work on Rodent Performance Evaluation. This study is a first attempt to remedy this deficiency." Stand-by for lift-off!
‹ 31.1.02
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Last night's Retroteasers Pop Quiz was a real doozy. Inspired by Jonathan and David's recent remix CD pressie, Wendy returned the favour by presenting us with an affable young DJ by the trade-name of Osymyso (and no, this isn't going to turn into some sort of bizarre human sacrifice story ... that's Monday nights at The Retro Bar. Keep up at the back!). Now, this clever young bod was the man behind the infamous Pat n' Peg (from Eastenders) "You Bitch, You Cow" [WARNING: Large .rm file] mix which is absolutely brilliant.
The evening went a little something like this: they played his new twelve-minute track three times for us. The track contained 101 groups and solo artists. We had to name all 101. Yowsers! Marcus, Aussie Paul and myself managed to scrape up 63 while our cohorts got 88, one off the winning score. As David points out, you can get a taste of what it was like by checking out this edited version.
‹ 31.1.02
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Late Night Post-Boozing Dilemma: Should I eat a Cadbury's Creme Egg or not? Cons = just how much sugar do they put in those things, my teeth may in fact melt if I do, fondant is not your friend, and segments of foil wrapper may inadvertantly get stuck in my teeth. Pros = it tastes good and it will help remove the taste (or lack thereof) of the Findus "wall"-flavoured microwaved chicken and bacon lasagne I just ate.
Decisions decisions.
‹ 30.1.02
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Spotted: On the way home, one McDonald's delivery truck. Underneath the Big Mac emblazoned on its side, some wag had removed a few of the decals from "Enjoy more" to read "jo more". Or maybe it was just one of God's little masturbatory coincidences. Who can say?
‹ 30.1.02
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Things that will happen this year: William Hague becomes Prime Minister, Christopher Reeve walks, foetal brain cells recover memory in stroke patients, genetically engineered bacteria break down ore to get at gold, and smokers get innoculated against nicotine. A load of old bollocks? Most certainly. Still, that was predicted for this year in 1999, in The Sunday Times' Chronicle of the Future. Those stabs-in-the-dark aside however, one snippet was eerily prescient ...
"Tensions between India and Pakistan turned to conflict again over the disputed region of Kashmir. Troops were mobilised on both sides and artillery fire was exchanged, killing hundreds of civilians. More than 50 shoppers were killed when a terrorist bomb exploded in the centre of Delhi."Personally, I can't wait until Chelsea Clinton gets elected to the Oval Office in 2032.
‹ 30.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Getting your goat: "This apparently refers to an old English (Welsh?) belief that keeping a goat in the barn would have a calming effect on the cows, hence producing more milk. When one wanted to antagonize/terrorize one's enemy, you would abscond with their goat rendering their milk cows less- to non-productive." More at Ye Olde English Sayings.
‹ 30.1.02
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Our Parent, who art in Heaven ...
‹ 30.1.02
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Salon's political cartoonist, Tom Tomorrow, gets with the blogging thing.
‹ 30.1.02
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Scally hosted his annual Burns Night nosh-up on Friday and aye, it was a bonny wee night night too. Many were fed to capacity (as is the norm chez Cushing) and many were embarrassed out of their skins too (you know who you are). The poem below was read in a thick burr by a woman with the delightfully Scots name of "Morag" ... how perfect! Oh, and a big thank-you to Blogger B for being the gracious post-hostess :o)
‹ 29.1.02
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Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!
Aboon them a' yet tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin was help to mend a mill
In time o'need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin', rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Bethankit! hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad make her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckles as wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro' blody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.
Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer
Gie her a haggis!
Robbie Burns, 1786.
‹ 29.1.02
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More sci-fi malarkey than you can shake a space-enabled stick at over at the Global Episode Opinion Survey. Synopses, ratings, nerdy graphs, country schedules ... ahh, it's all just too much.
‹ 29.1.02
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I think I just found this website's new mascot. How thoroughly disturbing.
‹ 29.1.02
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Okay, so I went to the pub last night and went up to the condom machine and it had a sign on it that said "For refund, insert baby." *ba-dum-ching!*
‹ 29.1.02
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And the prize for the news story with the highest quotient of fucked up comments in it goes to "Moves afoot to ban pet ferrets". Observe ...
"The ferret debate resurfaced this week after revelations that a couple took their pet ferrets for a walk on Great Barrier Island, a protected wildlife sanctuary. The Auckland Regional Council is likely to prosecute the owners."What disturbs me ...
"Conservationists have welcomed a ban, but Forest and Bird says that for one to work existing pets would have to be registered and uniquely identified, possibly through inserting a microchip."
"It is not known how the tiny ferret breeding industry will be affected. Waikato-based Mystic Ferrets exports most of its animals, and its owners could not be contacted yesterday."
"She said a ban would only create a black market in pet ferrets and the responsible ownership message would be lost."
- People walk ferrets?
- People put microchips into ferrets?
- Mystic Ferrets?
- A black market in ferrets?
‹ 28.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Mmmm ... minty pits.
‹ 26.1.02
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The sibling and I also recently went to track down the chocolate crickets and ants (as advocated by Twom on this page (27/12 entry)) from Selfridge's as a pressie for Dad. They'd sold out, which is rather worrying I think. Luckily, you can learn how to cook 'em up yourself, thanks to the miracles of the modern communications age: Indulge your entomophageous urges here.
‹ 26.1.02
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I feel like Madonna, singing "You Must Love Me" at the Oscars. Here's why. Good luck to all the finalists!
‹ 26.1.02
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I saw Michelle off today - she's grabbing that big steel bird in the sky and heading back to our little corner of the world. And the remnants of summer. Bitch.
Of course, I don't mean that. Love you to bits baby 'sis!
We went to Mamma Mia! on Tuesday and it was pretty good too. Think Shirley Valentine with Swedish folk music. The cast did a good job, enlivening everyone's hoary old faves, but a few sound problems did let them down a bit. That, however, may have been because we were in the nosebleeds - someone forgot his spectacles but hark! Fifty pence goes in the slot, nasty plastic opera goggles come out. Brilliant.
I was also pretty impressed with the set design - two curvy Grecian white-washed walls which were rolled and folded, Sara Lee style, to form all the sets. Plus the cobble-stones actually revealed themselves to be coloured underfloor lights in disguise, for the requisite disco numbers. Very cool.
‹ 26.1.02
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Whenever I see "GLBT", I automatically think "Gay Lettuce Bacon and Tomato".
‹ 26.1.02
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David points to a delighfully naughty child who had fun with a marker and his/her younger sibling. How evil. Yet still damn funny. I sense a kiddie horror flick revival in the wind ...
‹ 23.1.02
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- Iain has never seen Grease.
- Tom hadn't the foggiest idea who Captain and Tennille were.
- Dave has a cold. His first one for the year. Arse.
‹ 23.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Ever wanted to feel like you were in a tense moment in Doctor Who? Then whiz yourself up an instant soundtrack with the Experimental Jetset Vibraphone. Fun until your cochlea actually starts to melt.
‹ 23.1.02
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Victorian sketches get updated at Daze of Our Lives.
‹ 23.1.02
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Recreational chewing - A retrospective:
"The discovery of well-chewed wads of tree resin, unearthed along with bones and other prehistoric artifacts, leads archaeologists to believe that even our primitive ancestors engaged in recreational chewing. Man has chewed everything from human gristle to synthetic rubber; a good chew has been touted as teeth-preserving, nerve-soothing, digestion-aiding, seaksickness-preventing, mind-refreshing and even sex-appeal enhancing."Mmmm ... sex-appeal enhancing ...
‹ 23.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
A few salient happenings from recent days:
- The Retro Bar bash on Thursday night was excellent; Wendy and DJ Lush ("my New Zealand bridesmaid" as I've affectionately termed her) celebrating their fifth anniversary at the helm of said drinking establishment and its predecessors. I spent half an hour soaking up the ambience before David and Ian arrived, shortly before we adjourned to the more comfortable surrounds of the upstairs bar. Iain, Scally and Rick - thankfully intact after the perilous ice-skating mission - found us there soon after. As did Darren. And the drinking did then commence ladies and gentlemen! I'm sure Jonathan and Mark found us in quite a state by the time he arrived (nothing you're not used to, right guys?). I do love these do's that pop-up every now and then on The Retro Bar's calendar, I do, I do: they have the feeling of being at one big party where you don't know too many people but you don't feel like a complete tool for not doing so. Translated: this is a good thing. Merry capers later ensued when Iain, David and myself attempted to get home - Waterloo really is a lovely scenic side-trip on the way to north London ... honest!
- Tom and I decided to get all intellectual on Friday night and pay a visit to Mr Rushkoff's gathering at the Global Café. The gamine author dutifully held court to the assorted masses and was an interesting chap to listen to: I've followed his writings on-and-off for several years now so it was fun to finally put a personality to the words. His next missive - Judaism's move from an open to closed-source model and that it should be the first religion to voluntarily retire itself - sounds intriguing as well. Tom was a good boy and asked probing questions, placed as they were between those of the token Marxist, the token stoner and the token anti-globalisation activist. The 'bag and I even hung around afterwards and discussed narrative and hero myths and Greek tragedies and Freud and ev'ry-ma-thing. Stimulating!
- Last night's dinner with Anna and Richard turned into a right comedy of errors. "Let's go to a show!", Anna had said that afternoon. "There's literally nothing left", she later informed us. "Let's go to Busaba!", I suggested. The line was monstrous by the time we arrived, so off to Satsuma it was. "Let's go to Amelié instead!", I said, perusing the current poor film listings in Time Out. It was sold out. "Right, fuck it, we're going to play videogames", I decided, so off we trouped to the Trocadero and addled ourselves for a few hours with flashes and beeps and DVD purchases. That's called making the most of concurrent annoying situations, kids.
- Prior to those shenanigans, Michelle and I had taken a tour of the Globe which was quite fascinating: our guide, while delivering his spiel to the group as we were seated in the theatre saw fit to deliver Romeo's "But soft ..." lines directly to me. I'll never sit in a front row again. The underground exhibition adjacent to the theatre was also of note, chronicling Sam Wannamaker's long fight to have the thing build, along with the requisite history, costume and language displays. The sumptuous fabric stage hangings - a gift from the Bard's devotees in New Zealand - were also impressive.
- Saturday also marked the occasion of my two-year-blog-iversary [where it all began]. Thanks for reading folks!
- Dad was the bearer of bad news today, unfortunate bugger. I broke this to Michelle late this evening (she was out with friends for most of the day) and naturally she was upset. As was I. Life's random turnings can be a right bastard at times.
‹ 21.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Currently rocking my block (again): No Doubt's Tragic Kingdom (scoff and die, bitch). Flashback to 1997, long hot Antipodean summer, car tour around the South Island with friends, friends becoming increasingly annoyed at the level of No Doubt that was being played, me not really giving a shit. The new album is a lovely shade of medium ochre but Tragic Kingdom is the band at their peak: jump-about get-funky work-it-girl ska/rock drums and geetar with sugary Stefani vocals. The perfect winter antidote.
‹ 17.1.02
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Happy annivers'ry bay-bay ... gotchoo on my miiii-iiiiind.
<ahem>
Anyway, reee-spect is well and truly due to Jeff and David who have been doing their respective blog thangs for a full twelve months now. Much good reading there, and I mean that most sincerely folks. And speaking of which, these here entries have been dragging on for a while now too ...
‹ 17.1.02
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"You can make a difference. By getting all the video footage we can, and processing this data using the communal processing power of millions of YETI@Home volunteers, YETI@Home scientists believe we can achieve the best chances of locating this mysterious creature. (This theoretical approach is known in academic circles as "Fermat's Shotgun")."
‹ 17.1.02
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Jeez Louise, those nerds sure can be killjoys sometimes. I mean, I enjoy a good game of "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" as much as the next fellow but now they've gone and spoiled it all ... not by saying something stupid like "I love you", but by creating The Bacon Oracle. It's prescience meets pork products as only the web knows how. Mmm ... bacon. I'll take mine streaky, not keviny, if you please.
‹ 17.1.02
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Oh my God ... it's Darth Maul! Run kids ... run for your lives!
‹ 17.1.02
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Venice was wonderful ... and now, the report:
- I loved being on the water again - living in London, it's the one thing I really miss about home. And that's why Wellington is appealing on my return. The water ferries were brilliant ... one every ten minutes or so and the main line went right up the Grand Canal. It's like getting a free sightseeing tour everytime you use the Underground - brilliant!
- The place smells, but not as badly as I'd expected. I can imagine it would reek in the height of summer. You did however know when you were approaching a canal, as the odour rose proportionately: a very handy pre-falling-in warning system if you were blind drunk.
- St Mark's Basilica is absolutely amazing: you feel as though you've well and truly walked into Aladdin's Cave. Mosaics for Africa. No wonder it took them around six hundred years to complete it all.
- The Doge's Palace was similarly lush: private quarters decked out to the nines, a large map room with two massive globes, one of the world and one of the heavens, and huge executive suites, meeting halls, courtrooms and over the Bridge of Sighs to the prisons. Titian's beautifully restored fresco of St Christopher was an unexpected find, placed as it is above a doorway at the foot of a flight of stairs, tucked off the main corridor.
- Whilst shopping, Michelle muttered something semi-derogatory about a store as we passed. I turned and the mat said PRADA. "Do not mock Prada", I said in muted winter tones, half-expecting an army of black-clad fashionistas to jump out and squirrel us away for a rapid "re-education session".
- The island of San Giorgio, across the water from St Mark's Square always catches your eye when you arrive the waterfront: the juxtaposition of architectural styles makes it look like the Venetian version of Las Vegas' "New York - New York" hotel. The Campanile (bell tower) offered a great 360º view of Venice and the lagoon's islands while the stark austerity of the Church of San Giorgio Maggiore offsets St Mark's aureate flourishes nicely.
- Still in, one week later: fur coats (or at the very least, anoraks with fur-lined hoods), small yappy dogs, attitude, so much make-up you look orange, weird tinted chemistry-class-goggle style spectacles.
- We were only shylocked once - an exorbitantly priced lunch, the final total of which bore no earthly resemblance to the prices of the food we'd seen inside the door just moments before. Reluctantly, they took their pound of flesh.
- Of course, the gondola ride wasn't exactly cheap either but we saw that one coming. Navigating through the backwaters (literally) of Venice was very tranquil, the city giving up it's shiny tourist façade and revealing it's faded grandeur to full effect.
- The hotel had a free tour thing going over to Murano Island, where the city's major glass studios are located. So we dutifully jetted over, water taxi style, and checked it out. "The Master" (as the guy who met us off the boat referred to him - very Doctor Who) whipped up a vase and a glass deer in about seven seconds flat while smoking a cigarette the whole way through. Now that's skill.
- I'm convinced Treviso has the tiniest airport in the world: picture a combined check-in area, customs zone, duty-free shop and departure lounge the combined size of your living room and you'll get the idea. Oh, and put six fully armed soldiers in there too for added measure. And since when haven't you been allowed to buy cigarettes at the airport to take from one E.U. country to another? Or is that just a weird Italian rule?
‹ 17.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Bye-bye Paris ... hello Venice. Off to the watery city for a few days. Back Monday.
‹ 11.1.02
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If dogs were let loose on the web, would this be the result?
‹ 11.1.02
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Kiwi gimmers go digital.
‹ 11.1.02
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Quite possibly the most disturbing thing you'll see on the internet today: Leader of the Free World. Click on "Blair" to create a morphing Pinnochio-like President Prime Minister follow around a grinning George W. Bush. I need some Optrex.
‹ 11.1.02
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"This list contains all references to anything simian (monkey, ape, gorilla, etc.) up through season 13. Separate references within an episode are denoted by bullets (white discs), while multiple references to the same instance are not."
‹ 11.1.02
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I've just been assigned a job with the best title ever in the history of job assignments ...
Project Ref. Number 946: Submarine Cables Org Chart UpdateI think I shall co-ordinate this one from my secret bunker inside a hollowed-out extinct volcano.
‹ 10.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
Paris ruled. We had a great time over there playing M. et Mlle. Touriste. Some highlights and stuff before all this gets lost to the mists of time ...
- The Eurostar is a fantastic way to go and rocking up to Waterloo is a cinch, especially if you're living on the Jubilee line already. As previously mentioned, we went First Class because I'm a lazy-arsed freak who didn't get off his butt in time to book cheap seats with reasonable travelling times attached to them. I'm not sure if it was worth it or not, but the food and wine and big seats were excellent. However, the gaudy plastic pink reading lamps did not lend the carriage an air of class or Orient Express-style mystery.
- Parisien(ne)s are mostly quite nice. Some are rude. I laughed at them when they were.
- The relief on the right-hand strut (what's the proper word for this?) of the Arc de Triomphe, as you're looking up from the Champs Elysées, is very cool.
- I had no snails. I had no frogs' legs. I had two pain au chocolat the whole time I was there. Galeries Lafayette do them very well.
- The Louvre was fantastic. There was far too much to see of course so we ended up skipping the Dutch/Flemish paintings on the second floor (screw you Vermeer). Certain parts were closed off too which was damn annoying (including one of the Egyptian wings which Michelle wanted to check out); if you can't manage to scrape up enough staff to run a gallery (albeit a large one) in a city of nine million people then you should really consider why you're operating one. The Mona Lisa was suitably enigmatic even as she was being flash-blinded to within an inch of her canvassed life, and the Venus de Milo was similarly inspiring. The two large courtyards containing large sculpture were excellent as well. I was also surprised how well the pyramid actually complemented the old palace buildings - well done Mr Pei.
- The weather was cold and crisp but very hazy: in such circumstances one is advised to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower at night and climb the towers of Notre Dame during the day. Both were merveilleux.
- We stayed quite close to the Place Vendôme which is riche riche riche. Mega-jewellery stores reigned supreme. We felt poor.
- Using the euro was relatively painless - it was comforting to be on the same foot as everyone else in the city on at least that one thing. People seemed to be most confused with the 1, 2 and 5 cent pieces which are all the same colour and vary little in terms of size. I ended up with a Belgian 2 euro coin at one point so the national coins are certainly beginning their move around Europe. The Pont Neuf was flying the flags of all the Euro-zone countries as well which was quite a nice touch.
- Fur is in, as are eyebrows plucked razor-thin and yappy little dogs which you can carry around in your shoulder bag. And I didn't step in any dog shit the whole time I was there ... amazing! I tell you, I'll be turning water into wine soon.
- All of the good-looking men in Paris wear uniforms (yes gendarmes, I'm looking in your direction). That's one fetish I hadn't considered before but could quite possibly develop. But probably not.
- Five years of high school French was useful for reading but I was a bit shy in speaking when push finally came to shove. I think I needed to be drunker.
- I had a bizarre déjà vu moment at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Sacre Cœur: you actually walk into where the closing sequence of Amélie was filmed, carousel and all. Cool.
- Waterloo Immigration, I kiss you! I wasn't asked any of the usual probing questions on my return to London which is amazing, especially since time is well and truly ticking on my visa.
- Writing all the ISO entity codes for the accents in this list has been annoying.
‹ 9.1.02 / 0 comment(s) ›
I'm off to Paris with ma sœur for the next few days, first class on the Eurostar and staying in le 1er arrondisement no less ... that's what you get for leaving your booking until the last minute. Je retournerai lundi ... au revoir!
‹ 3.1.02
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Simon makes a fresh start over at minor 9th with yummy results.
‹ 3.1.02
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And before you know it, it's 2002. The New Year kicked off well: Michelle and I headed over to Iain's for some </2001> hospitality ... mulled wine, bubbles and nibbles filled us and the rest of the crew up nicely. 'Twas bloody good going at short notice too, Scally and I having informed the good Mr Croll the night before that he was having a party, full stop can't say it back no returns times infinity. Cheers mate!
A mad dash into town then followed, arriving at Waterloo for the witching hour with five minutes to spare. I consumed a can of Speights in honour of absent friends, before the bubbles flowed again when Big Ben did the hands-up-in-the-air thang. It was damned cold too, but the alcohol and good friends kept spirits aloft.
Amazingly, the back streets of the South Bank proved no hindrance either when we returned to Waterloo and found the tube station closed: I managed to find Southwark station on blind instinct, ensuring our arrival back in north London with a minimum of both fuss and muss. A good omen for the year ahead I hope!
‹ 3.1.02
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