Wednesday, May 09, 2007

too lazy to come up with a relevant title for this post

From a recent email to a friend, because I'm also too lazy to type an entirely new post.

On why my friend should watch Battlestar Galactica:
EJO is fantastic, with his acid-destroyed (I mean acne-scar-pocked) face, and his gruffness, and his incredible manliness, and his fatherly glimmers of warmth and regret. It's pitch-perfect. Other than him and the second in command, it is chock full of babes - everyone is ridiculously good looking. The revised female Starbuck is my new hero. I don't even mind that she chomps cigars! I wasted an entire sunny weekend inside once because I just couldn't look away.

(From here. One question: who would post that picture in 2005 for god's sake, and not THIS ONE?)

On what I like to do in a big city:
If I'm there for a weekend, I usually buy some form of cheap new duds. I also like to just wander in and out of stores on [this one street] where urban hipsters teetering on the edge of bankruptcy sew wacky clothes (skirts with squirrels appliqued on them and such) and sell them in impossibly funky stores for the three months that they're try to keep their fabulous/ridiculous businesses afloat.

Also there's a wool store somewhere along there, where I just want to rub up against the multi-coloured skein-draped walls and feel everything between my greasy thumb and index finger. (Knitting is the latest fad, did you know? Next it will be traditional book-binding, or wheel-wrighting, or barrel-making, or something like that.)

Then I like to sit on a noisy patio in the sun with a book and try to read it even though I'm distracted constantly by other conversations, people passing by, and the whims of my very very very undisciplined mind.

Sometimes I go see my friend play fiddle. Maybe we should put that on the agenda. He plays like he made a deal with the devil, but actually, he just worked very fucking hard to get that good. It's quite a joy to see him play because he's not just technically great, he plays with passion. I'm not even kidding about that.


At May 10, 2007 3:18 p.m., Blogger John E. White said...

I like to eat a three dollar hot dog at a corner vendor, piled with saurkraut and corn relish. We don't have them here. It's against the law. Isn't that just dreadful?

At May 10, 2007 3:44 p.m., Anonymous blackbeltbarrister said...

over here in Angleterre there is a distinct lack of hot dog appreciation. They sell hot sausages in buns instead, which are tasty but just not the same. The most fabulous hot dog I ever had was whilst dipping my toes in the crystal blue Adriatic Sea, waiting for the ferry to the Croatian island of Hvar to arrive- but what made the hotdog fabulous was NOT the setting but the fact that instead of slicing the bun open lengthways, they jabbed them onto a heated spike (how Balkan!) and created a toasted channel for the weiner and condiments to slide into (stay with me here) thereby insuring that nothing squirted out the bottom no matter how hard you jammed it in your mouth (yes, I know)! Why don't they do it like that everywhere?


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