Heard last evening, on the topic of male g-strings:
FdM: “I could never wear a g-string.”
N: “How would you know if you’ve never tried?”
FdM: “Look, I can’t even stand to wear flip-flops.”
I wish I could say that’s the weirdest thing I heard that night.
I’m not sure if anything can still be done for the reputation of this blog, seeing how the past 24 hours have seen an unusually high amount of somewhat sensible, even possibly useful information put here. Frankly, I don’t know if my blogger’s ethics will ever recover.
I will try nonetheless.
Wars of the Geeks is officially over, silly inconsequent navel-gazing is now back for the month.
Let’s start by what should have been yesterday’s sum up of how to succeed at cooking an enjoyable Summer evening with friends. It goes a little something like this:
[steps sideways, does two entrechats and starts singing while tap-dancing to the beat]
- Some second-hand equipment purchased for a fistful of euros on the outer rim of the Internets.
- Cranberry juice + vodka + a splash of lemon juice + a dash of cointreau + a few wedges of lime + loads of ice, times a few gallons.
- One lovably demented masterpiece of a Japanese movie recommended by S. a while back.
- People (also: other people without blogs, but likeable nonetheless).
Shake but do not stir, serve fresh with cocktail straws.
Such a fabulous evening that our little Cinéma de quartier might very well be on its way to become a regular bi-monthly.
Then there also was yesterday’s recipe: another kind of enjoyable dish. Though it’s made of much harder-to-find of ingredients and I am not even quite sure I remember myself how the cooking process went.
If you absolutely want to try at home, I think it involved a bottle of contraband Absinth, eye-burning Japanese menthol eye drops, one of the most furious thunderstorm of the Summer and lots of Parisian girls running by in the street, wearing but thin blouses soaking wet from the sudden rain.
Also what appears to be a medium-sized rodent stuck to my living room table in a puddle of melted wax and solidifying liquor. But I will only be able to confirm that when I finish removing the few dozens glasses and beer bottles stacked over it.
I am back.
Or more exactly: I am back closer to an internet connection. Still somewhere down south, albeit in a more family-oriented settings.
These five days in the boondocks were absolute paradise and helped reminding me that, was the choice to come down between: big city and the internets on one side, friends, sun, fresh veggies, cheap wine and homegrown on the other, I’d easily slide toward the latter as a permanent way of life.
During my blissful stay in the heart of French Aveyronais region, I:
- ate lots of delicious homemade food including chlada felfel, aligot, moroccan brownies and much more.
- spent entire afternoons on a sun-drenched deck reading, chatting, smoking and overall doing absolutely nothing requiring electricity or a phone line whatsoever.
- stunk to high-heavens of lemongrass essence the entire time, but didn’t get bitten by mosquitoes once.
- spent hours excitedly exchanging musical tips and hundreds of bad-ass 70’s funk tracks
- had to climb up a ladder to get to my bed (when I didn’t opt to stay in a hammock outside).
- walked through a [small] open field of odoriferous plants with strangely shaped leaves and got to sample last year’s crop.
- realized that buying and fixing a house somewhere deep in the country, away from civilization, wasn’t only a way to live a healthier, cheaper and simpler life: there are a few perks on the side.
- spent a whole night playing poker while a fierce Summer thunderstorm raged outside (complete with flickering lights, blown fuses and all).
- met Chucky, the mellow schnauzer, who has never been quite the same ever since he accidentally ate half a pound of mushrooms found drying under his master’s bed.
- made two gallons of frozen margaritas and brought a few more converts over to the church of the Holy Citrus Tequila Cocktail.
- did many other things that shall remain safely out of read from potentially underage eyes…
Back in P-town this week-end.
When I moved in, a few months ago, I had little time to spend on elaborate interior decoration. One of the only picture on the walls was a gift from Martine for my birthday last year.
When I finally decided to put more effort into redecorating my place, I immediately thought of asking her for a few more prints: she promptly mailed me a dozen of them, which arrived last month, although I was too busy fighting deadline psychosis at the time to do much more than file them in a corner and wait for brighter days. At long last this week, I was able to shop for some framing material and start hanging them on the walls.
And they look absolutely gorgeous!
For some reason, I have a stupendously high proportion of pro and semi-pro photographers amongst friends and acquaintances, and they all have beautiful works to boast of… But some of Martine’s pictures, on top of their moving aesthetics, have this striking liveliness and journalist-like veracity that make you feel like you are standing a few feet away, inside the picture. Her pictures are the closest to a stroll through the backstreets of Tokyo you will ever get without buying a plane ticket.
If you are looking for stunning photographs to decorate your life and bring a corner of Kichijoji’s parkside coffeeshops or a wandering Tokyo commuter’s smile into your existence, here is your chance: Go pick and order now!
A new minor Japanese deity is born and she specializes in keitais (Japanese cellphones)…
You may remember Tracey from her previous moblogging contributions to this blog. She is now flying her own colors and has started blogging about her cosmopolitan life in Tokyo and around, at keitaigoddess.com (on a theme beautifully designed by MJ)…
Go check it out now!
What better occasion than a charmingly rainy Spring Sunday afternoon to take care of a long due tidying-up of my blogroll (that list of blogs found under the Links tab above)…
In fact, it was mostly an occasion to crash on the couch, procrastinate all day and do some reading while nibbling on the relics of yesterday’s food orgy, but having accomplished one tangible task, no matter how trivial, gives me a faint sense of accomplishment and somewhat helps relieve the guilt.
First off, I finally ditched the “linkroll”, as you are all probably subscribed to the same dozen blogs I and everybody on the net goes to, to get their fix in “quirky” humorous pieces of web lore. Real links of interest will make it into posts of their own from now on. But anyway, I do suspect your first motive for visiting this blog is not to find the latest in kung-fu-fighting cat movies or dorky teenagers lip-syncing to cheesy eurodance.
Becoming sort of a tradition around here, this year’s edition of Dr Dave’s Wishes of Peace and Harmony to the World:
And if you are bored or too hangover to do anything better, you can go look for your face in the full size version (huge file warning).
Small quid pro quo today reminded me of an old conversation:
Tomomi: But Dave-san, is there really a difference between English and American?
dr Dave: Of course there is. British are civilised people. Americans are ruthless barbarians: they couldn’t make a cup of tea to save their life.
drD: When Americans try to make tea, they use cold sea-water and don’t even bother taking the leaves out of the box. And that’s Boston we’re talking about. The further west you go, the worse it gets.
T: Aa, so-ka, so-ka. It all makes sense now.
Anything I can do to bring greater cultural understanding between people.
The Dangerously Trilingual Thaïs may have posted the funniest straight-faced geeky post ever (in French).
Or how a serious warning about Linux installs compatibility starts sounding like the latest Beatrix Botter volume (translation mine):
Whatever you do, do not launch an apt-get dist-upgrade to the new version (still under development) “Breezy Badger” at this time. […] My install, essentially “Hoary Hedgehog” on a base of “Warty Warthog“, worked very well until that fateful moment […]
Thaïs, Dangereuse Trilingue s’il en est, expose ses malheurs informatiques. Je crois que je n’ai jamais autant ri à la lecture d’un compte-rendu de compatibilité entre installations de logiciels:
Quoi que vous fassiez, ne lancez pas un apt-get dist-upgrade vers la version (encore sous développement) « Blaireau Jovial » (« Breezy Badger ») en ce moment. […] Mon install, principalement « Hérisson Chenâtre » sur une base de « Phacochère Verruqueux », marchait parfaitement bien jusqu’à ce moment fatal […]
Mais où se cache donc Lapin Soyeux?