Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Meters, War And Spices

The first face I saw today belonged to the Meter Reader.
A sullen Scotsman who told me what he was here for and that he had a bad back.
It seemed very random at the time but there was method in his madness.
He got me rummaging in the cupboard doing his fucking job for him!
When I stood up, he was leaning against the airing cupboard door, a study in pain.
I gave him one of my Ibuprofen and sent him on his way.
My good deed for the day out of the way early on.
Splendid!

News from the Middle East caught my eye.
I know lots of people, who over the years and various conflicts have thought,
“Fuck it! Build a wall around the lot of them and let the fuckers get on with it”.
It was my Grandfather’s thought on Northern Ireland and a few other places.
Israel had a go at building the wall and everyone was outraged.
Now news from the Gaza Strip is about Arab shooting Arab.
They are getting on with it.

Although, to me, Fatah and Hamas sound like warring factions of a Mediterranean Restaurant’s Starter menu.
I may begin my own Middle Class faction called, The Baba Ganoush or The Falafel Freedom Fighters.
I haven’t decided which will sound more sinister when I do the youtube video in my crocheted balaclava, beheading tofu with a fine Sabatier knife to the soundtrack of ‘All Around My Hat’.

While we are warmongering.
Thatcher has been on the TV today. Falklands Anniversary and all that.
I know she’s had a stroke, but Jesus!
Does it make your voice drop two Octaves? She could sing Bass now!

Who else has a Spice cupboard that is a cross between a Mensa Spatial awareness test, Jenga and a memory game?
Every time I open the bastard door something falls out and hits me in the head or drops on my knuckles.
I get rage-y then and stuff gets thrown around.
Tomorrow everything is coming out of it and rearrangement will commence.

Also, what is the etiquette with Pernod?
Is it Pernod then water or water then Pernod?
See the dilemmas I am presented with during the course of my day!

3 comments:

Schneewittchen said...

What happened yesterday? Why didn't I comment? I'm sure I meant to. I wonder if this means I'm losing me marbles. Hmm....

Eesh, All Around my Hat, I haven't thought about that in years, and hoped I never would again.

Yes, my dad had similar thoughts on Nigerians, and that was in the civilised days before independence. Somehow his job out there seemed to include sorting out petty differences between them, so petty they'd have put a tyre round someone's neck and set fire to it before it got to him.

Yeah, well when you see our spice cupboard.... Kevin has put magnetic tape on the insides of the cupboard doors and the spices are in small metal containers attached to the magnetic strips.

I dunno, I think you cut the Pernod with the water. I seem to remember this from being sent away on the French exchange from school. The family would drink Ricard in the evening, same thing, but more brown than green. Then there was some kind of Pernod flavoured cordial for us kids. Lush. Oddly though, we were allowed to drink wine, beer, (or in the case of the French, 'beer-like liquid) and brandy with no fuss at all.
I understand that if you get drunk on it one night then drink water the following morning, you can get drunk all over again. The booze that keeps on giving.

LentenStuffe said...

Schnee's got the right formula for the Pernod dilemma.

As for the duke-it-out in the spice bin, I'm putting my money on sister Cayenne: she'll fairly kick the shit out of the whole lot of them bland effers.

Sleepy said...

Schnee.. Come on Lovey, uck out your 'Green Willow'.
I'm sure the sizings for English Willow and Canadian Willow are much the same!

Kev's thing with the Spice cupboard sounds Ideal but we are trying to wean me away from those OCD tendencies!

Lenten.. Cayenne is a truly versatile spice!
At the moment it is stopping the felines shitting in my new flower bed.
Liberally sprinkled Cayenne soon sorts 'em. Cats always sniff before they squat.
A hooter full of that is a compelling deterent.