what are you doing down there soldier?

I saw this discarded flyer on the pavement on the way back to my apartment today. I wonder if this is what happened to Castle Anthrax after the knights didn’t go back to face the terrible pearl.

Obviously I have a lot on my mind.

How to Swim - good gig

It’s weird, last night I was lying here thinking of a piece of equipment I need to make for work in Portugal when I realised that photos I made of the equipment from thesis would offer a good approximation of the new equip. there then followed a small eureka moment as I realised something I should have known all along.
Just realised that’s not such an interesting story. Never mind.

Tonight D and I went to 13th Note to see “How to Swim”. They were very good, but I couldn’t actually hear the flautist from where I sat, and it’s entirely possible she wasn’t actually there. The lack was evident, it’s possible she didn’t have a mike, but that’s equally tragic.
Two support acts, one (the first) a guy on guitar who reminded us both of the late Chris Whitley. Definite differences, but pleasant similarities, He was very good and I will find out his name. Second support started really well and I liked for the first three tracks, then they got a bit dull and I complained about them and D initially protected. They continued on and got steadily more banal until neither of us could wish anything nice on them. D said they reminded her of a band Aberfeldy, three freaks and one pretty girl who looked like she dressed in the dark, that we saw by mistake and to our great misfortune. They were a group of competent musicians who would have served well as a second rate wedding band, but instead strove forward with a handful of songs, none memorable except for an innate and groundless cheeriness reminiscent of a group of ship wreck survivors, clinging to rafts of broken planks singing Coombya as more and more sharks began to circle. Personally, I think the comparison to Aberfeldy was a little harsh.

F##kers

Oh happy day…
Sunday, pissing down and off I go to refuel the car I’m using just now. I get to the lights and it has turned amber, but with wet road conditions, not used to car etc. I think it’s safer to carry on, I’m already over the line after all. That’s when Dempsey and Makepiece (is that how you spell it? Which one was which?) swoop. Bad evil man that I am, driving like Sister Wendy since I have been using this car I come away from the introduction £60 lighter and 3 points heavier. Now, I know that you should stop on an amber, but them claiming I had run a red!!! Never in my tiny life would I do such a thing. Perhaps I should have slammed on the brakes and reversed back. Would that have been safer?
Things I should have said:
No officer, I don’t know why you have stopped me.
Why don’t you catch some real criminals? They never got the person who broke into my mother’s house and left everything covered in a shiny grey powder that is impossible to remove. They never got the guys who coerced £60 out of her with menaces. They never did anything regarding the guy who danced on the roof of my car last year.
Maybe we are confused as to their actual job because it seems to me they are more in league with the criminals than holding them at bay.
I have never broken any major laws and the ones which I have broken have occurred because of weather conditions or poor maintenance of signage. And yet I seem to have paid a reasonable amount of money to them. I suppose Christmas is coming up, they will need a nice night out and a new photocopier for 2008.
Thanks.
I care less than I should, I have a Badger. Ah ha ha ha ha ha.

Looking at my fino?

So, I am through the gate at Porto and after having been asked “English?” and me replying “Não Scottish” and being told to get back through, to take everything off for X-ray. Slight exaggeration there, but apparently I am safe to travel. So imagine my surprise as I see the usual collection of shops where you can buy your way out of post security trauma. But I see one, selling wrist watches, called “watch me”. Fair enough, the next one I can see the name of, but it’s selling sunglasses and instantly I think of the name “Glass me”. Coming home? Hell I’m there already. Now I understand security’s reaction.

Flight to Frankfurt fairly uneventful, which was good. I felt very petty when I had to use the seat’s recline function strategically. The person behind me had their feet jammed tightly into the back of my seat and it was bloody uncomfortable. I thought it was only fair that they should be compressed also.
One weird thing about Frankfurt is the two stage gate thing, leaving you corralled in a sort of flight based purgatory. This is preferable to Ryan air hell, but would it kill them to put a coke machine in here?Other weird thing is the staff riding around on folding bicycles. I mean it makes sense, totally. It’s just a little odd, coming as I do from a culture that is rapidly becoming one which goes into shock at the slightest threat to life or limb.

Scotland 6 days...

Be home soon and was looking on you tube for some films of Glasgow and generally Scotland, just in case it had changed.
Now, this should be the lamest thing ever, but it's not.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgzBrxXwzdI

tick tick ticky tick...

This is fab:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWytlGFpsmo