get.
on.
in.
there.
never better than our sean.
lazenby. titter. lazenby.
a billion times better than that smarmy moore chap.
i did enjoy the dalton. i really did. he bought a steely eyed detached-ness to the role. he, however, has been usurped.
pierce....'nuff said.
now this guy is REALLY good.
you have to feel sorry for the preceding chaps because they weren't given this type of movie to work with. but still....
he is REALLY good.
especially in a theater that sells beer (i'm talkin' about a glass...of beer) it made the pain of forgetting to bring martinis that little bit easier to handle.
drop what you are doing.
go.
go.
go.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
...hmmm.....they might be on to something....
....yesterday, according to the traditional Japanese calender, was the first day of winter....
....yesterday, at 1 o'clock, i strolled to lunch.....and it was a bright sunny autumn day....
....yesterday, at 6 o'clock, i strolled home........and it was a bitterly cold winters evening....
dagnabbit.
....yesterday, at 1 o'clock, i strolled to lunch.....and it was a bright sunny autumn day....
....yesterday, at 6 o'clock, i strolled home........and it was a bitterly cold winters evening....
dagnabbit.
Monday, October 30, 2006
...last iron maiden post...promise....
Morning all,
Just a quick add-on to the Iron Maiden mania that has been swirling around sunny old Hatsukaichi for the last few days. A chum of ours over here in Japan, we'll call him "Mike" for that is his name - an officer, a gentleman and indeed a prince among men, managed to sidle up to this guy in a smoky bar following the gig and procure his autograph for little old me.
So now I have personalised notes from him AND Jason Gunn!
Hell yes. I move in rarefied circles.
That is all.
B.
Just a quick add-on to the Iron Maiden mania that has been swirling around sunny old Hatsukaichi for the last few days. A chum of ours over here in Japan, we'll call him "Mike" for that is his name - an officer, a gentleman and indeed a prince among men, managed to sidle up to this guy in a smoky bar following the gig and procure his autograph for little old me.
So now I have personalised notes from him AND Jason Gunn!
Hell yes. I move in rarefied circles.
That is all.
B.
Friday, October 27, 2006
...everything i need to know i learned from going to see iron maiden live in concert last night...
- black is the new black.
- no really. it is.
- if you are stuck in a fashion quandry, ALWAYS go for the black, leather, tapered pants.
- black, leather tapered pants with "iron maiden" embroidered down the length of both legs will catapult you to the top of the fashion stakes. for all of eternity.
- having the enormous curtain in front of the stage drop during the playing of a recording of an iron maiden song, to reveal the band playing that very song and segueing in, live, as they stand in what appears to be the smoking ruins of a somme battlefield, is a very effective way of starting a rock n' roll show.
- 2 guitars are better than 1.
- 3 guitars are better than 2.
- 4 guitars are better than anything.
- 5 minute guitar solos are good.
- 7 minute guitar solos are better.
- if you cannot see the drummer, even when he stands up and raises his sticks above his head, because there are so many damn drums and cymbals in the way, then you should have bought ear plugs.
- if, half way through a 7 minute guitar solo, an enormous battle scarred tank raises from behind the stage, taking up the entire width of the theatre, and it slowly turns to face the audience, and an 8 ft tall eddie-the-head, raises out of said tanks turret, scans the crowd with red LED eyes and fires the tanks gun in time to the drum finale joining the end of the 7 minute guitar solo, the crowd will go APESHIT.
- if bruce dickinson ever, ever asks the crowd what time it is, the answer will always, always be "2 minutes to midnight"
- when utilising acoustic guitars during an iron maiden show to highlight your range of abilities, be sure to still have your axe strapped and ready to go. i would suggest some sort of acoustic-guitar-stand that allows you to strum, as well as to peel away and "shred" at a moments notice, leaving your acoustic guitar seemingly floating in space, allowing you to return at the plaintive end of the song as the lights go out and play a mournful acoustic "bookend".
- just because a drummer sits behind a three layer stack of drums during the entire show, it is no reason for him not to wear black, leather tapered pants, or at the very least black denim - because old drummers in bike shorts coming out to take their final bow can be very disturbing for the crowd.
- lead singers down-trouing bike shorts clad drummers during their final bow will always be funny.
- a 17 foot tall dude-on-stilts dressed like tommy atkins with an eddie-the-head head piece that has red flashing eyes, waving a union jack and strolling about on stage during "the evil that men do" will... (see above note re: crowd going APESHIT.)
- the crowd-wailing bit at the beginning of "fear of the dark" translates perfectly into japanese.
- wearing a flag adorned with skulls as a cape is generally seen as a little odd in polite company. unless you are about 8 feet tall, hairy, german, heavily tatooed around the face and hands, have 6 mates who look the same as you and are at an iron maiden concert, in which case, you can do whatever the hell you like.
- dudes wearing suits and carrying briefcases to iron maiden concerts look out of place.
- dudes wearing suits and carrying briefcases to iron maiden concerts rock the hell out.
- too much dry ice is not enough dry ice.
- my wife rules for buying me a ticket.
berin, age 31.
- no really. it is.
- if you are stuck in a fashion quandry, ALWAYS go for the black, leather, tapered pants.
- black, leather tapered pants with "iron maiden" embroidered down the length of both legs will catapult you to the top of the fashion stakes. for all of eternity.
- having the enormous curtain in front of the stage drop during the playing of a recording of an iron maiden song, to reveal the band playing that very song and segueing in, live, as they stand in what appears to be the smoking ruins of a somme battlefield, is a very effective way of starting a rock n' roll show.
- 2 guitars are better than 1.
- 3 guitars are better than 2.
- 4 guitars are better than anything.
- 5 minute guitar solos are good.
- 7 minute guitar solos are better.
- if you cannot see the drummer, even when he stands up and raises his sticks above his head, because there are so many damn drums and cymbals in the way, then you should have bought ear plugs.
- if, half way through a 7 minute guitar solo, an enormous battle scarred tank raises from behind the stage, taking up the entire width of the theatre, and it slowly turns to face the audience, and an 8 ft tall eddie-the-head, raises out of said tanks turret, scans the crowd with red LED eyes and fires the tanks gun in time to the drum finale joining the end of the 7 minute guitar solo, the crowd will go APESHIT.
- if bruce dickinson ever, ever asks the crowd what time it is, the answer will always, always be "2 minutes to midnight"
- when utilising acoustic guitars during an iron maiden show to highlight your range of abilities, be sure to still have your axe strapped and ready to go. i would suggest some sort of acoustic-guitar-stand that allows you to strum, as well as to peel away and "shred" at a moments notice, leaving your acoustic guitar seemingly floating in space, allowing you to return at the plaintive end of the song as the lights go out and play a mournful acoustic "bookend".
- just because a drummer sits behind a three layer stack of drums during the entire show, it is no reason for him not to wear black, leather tapered pants, or at the very least black denim - because old drummers in bike shorts coming out to take their final bow can be very disturbing for the crowd.
- lead singers down-trouing bike shorts clad drummers during their final bow will always be funny.
- a 17 foot tall dude-on-stilts dressed like tommy atkins with an eddie-the-head head piece that has red flashing eyes, waving a union jack and strolling about on stage during "the evil that men do" will... (see above note re: crowd going APESHIT.)
- the crowd-wailing bit at the beginning of "fear of the dark" translates perfectly into japanese.
- wearing a flag adorned with skulls as a cape is generally seen as a little odd in polite company. unless you are about 8 feet tall, hairy, german, heavily tatooed around the face and hands, have 6 mates who look the same as you and are at an iron maiden concert, in which case, you can do whatever the hell you like.
- dudes wearing suits and carrying briefcases to iron maiden concerts look out of place.
- dudes wearing suits and carrying briefcases to iron maiden concerts rock the hell out.
- too much dry ice is not enough dry ice.
- my wife rules for buying me a ticket.
berin, age 31.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
....run to the hills...(da-dadada-da-dadada)...
So yeah.
My wife totally rules.
Birthday Prezzie = ticket to IRON MAIDEN!
Tee hee hee hee.
Giggling like Fanta laden child (you know, before the headaches and vomiting)
I've been a closet fan of Iron Maiden for a long time. (As it transpires, you can take the chap out of Tokoroa....etc etc)
I think it must trace back to a YMCA camp I attended as a youngster. There were dozens of cheery faced youngsters such as myself there, and one TERRIFYING walking cliche of a metal fan, complete with the combat boots, the black-on-black-on-black ensemble, the trench coat, the array of safety pins (handy though they be), the poor hygeine, the well practiced sneer and the raising-of-the-horns to signal "Yes", "No", "Understood", "Good Morning", "I Hunger" and "May I Kill You Now".
He had been shipped off to "enjoy the invigorating countryside" by some sort of youth offender program. (I guess). We were all perhaps 11 or 12 and this guy was maybe 16 and unbeleivably terrifying. He had to shave more then than I do now as a 31 year old for gods sake.
He turned out to be in my cabin, and after some initially tense social manouvering, we reached an amicable agreement for co-habitance: I agreed that he could play his Iron Maiden et al tapes all day, every day, at whatever volume he desired and he agreed not to make fun of my yellow shorts with sunbathing frogs on them and to not eat my spleen when I was sleeping.
It worked out well.
For some reason we gravitated towards each other and I spent a fascinating week while the other cabin inhabitants feigned sleep or ran into the night screaming as he (I can't for the life of me remember his name - I think it might have been Satan) ran me through the intricacies of "Metal". There they were in all their glory, Judas Priest, Motorhead, Sabbath, Uriah Heap (what in the hell happened to Uriah Heap?), Slayer, Megadeth, Metallica....all this at a YMCA Camp people!
Village People be damned.
It really was a whole new world and this guy was so passionate about it. He pointed out similarities, influences, ideological differences and subtelties in amongst a genre I would never have willingly explored on my own. In particular he covered the bonkers, very involved and at-the-time-terrifying (yellow sunbathing frogs people) cover art, in particular that of Maiden. It's something I feel the youngsters of today, what with their "downloading" and "burning" will miss out on - it was cool.
It was a grand week. Listening to the entire "The Number of the Beast" album until the sun rises over the Hunua ranges after solving the problems of the world all night as an impressionable 11 or 12 year old with someone who might just snap at....aaaany....mooooooment......certainly leaves an impression.
So even though they are old, old, old men now, I am very, very, very excited to be going to see the Maiden live, live, live in concert. And to my nameless, terrifying benefactor, I shall raise a glass and tip my hat, even as I mark the nearest exit in case someone comes for my spleen.
IRON MAIDEN!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
In other news:
Saw this a wee while back and snapped it there and then. It's a hard-drive-TV-Video-Recorder doodad with a 1 Terabyte Hard drive. That's a lotta Simpsons reruns folks.
Toodle pip.
PS- do yourselves a favour and download "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" from Maidens 1984 Powerslave album. Make a cup of tea, set aside 14 or so minutes, and press
"play". You'll thank me.
My wife totally rules.
Birthday Prezzie = ticket to IRON MAIDEN!
Tee hee hee hee.
Giggling like Fanta laden child (you know, before the headaches and vomiting)
I've been a closet fan of Iron Maiden for a long time. (As it transpires, you can take the chap out of Tokoroa....etc etc)
I think it must trace back to a YMCA camp I attended as a youngster. There were dozens of cheery faced youngsters such as myself there, and one TERRIFYING walking cliche of a metal fan, complete with the combat boots, the black-on-black-on-black ensemble, the trench coat, the array of safety pins (handy though they be), the poor hygeine, the well practiced sneer and the raising-of-the-horns to signal "Yes", "No", "Understood", "Good Morning", "I Hunger" and "May I Kill You Now".
He had been shipped off to "enjoy the invigorating countryside" by some sort of youth offender program. (I guess). We were all perhaps 11 or 12 and this guy was maybe 16 and unbeleivably terrifying. He had to shave more then than I do now as a 31 year old for gods sake.
He turned out to be in my cabin, and after some initially tense social manouvering, we reached an amicable agreement for co-habitance: I agreed that he could play his Iron Maiden et al tapes all day, every day, at whatever volume he desired and he agreed not to make fun of my yellow shorts with sunbathing frogs on them and to not eat my spleen when I was sleeping.
It worked out well.
For some reason we gravitated towards each other and I spent a fascinating week while the other cabin inhabitants feigned sleep or ran into the night screaming as he (I can't for the life of me remember his name - I think it might have been Satan) ran me through the intricacies of "Metal". There they were in all their glory, Judas Priest, Motorhead, Sabbath, Uriah Heap (what in the hell happened to Uriah Heap?), Slayer, Megadeth, Metallica....all this at a YMCA Camp people!
Village People be damned.
It really was a whole new world and this guy was so passionate about it. He pointed out similarities, influences, ideological differences and subtelties in amongst a genre I would never have willingly explored on my own. In particular he covered the bonkers, very involved and at-the-time-terrifying (yellow sunbathing frogs people) cover art, in particular that of Maiden. It's something I feel the youngsters of today, what with their "downloading" and "burning" will miss out on - it was cool.
It was a grand week. Listening to the entire "The Number of the Beast" album until the sun rises over the Hunua ranges after solving the problems of the world all night as an impressionable 11 or 12 year old with someone who might just snap at....aaaany....mooooooment......certainly leaves an impression.
So even though they are old, old, old men now, I am very, very, very excited to be going to see the Maiden live, live, live in concert. And to my nameless, terrifying benefactor, I shall raise a glass and tip my hat, even as I mark the nearest exit in case someone comes for my spleen.
IRON MAIDEN!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
In other news:
Saw this a wee while back and snapped it there and then. It's a hard-drive-TV-Video-Recorder doodad with a 1 Terabyte Hard drive. That's a lotta Simpsons reruns folks.
Toodle pip.
PS- do yourselves a favour and download "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" from Maidens 1984 Powerslave album. Make a cup of tea, set aside 14 or so minutes, and press
"play". You'll thank me.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
.....aaaarrgghhh me hearties....
EVERY YEAR I get more and more stoked that my birthday is indeed, International-Talk-Like-A Pirate-Day .
Here's a link kindly provided by Richard (aaargh, there be gold in it me bucanneer chum) for those needing a little help.
Now go outside and see how many men you can fit on a dead mans chest.
Scurvy Knave.
b.
Here's a link kindly provided by Richard (aaargh, there be gold in it me bucanneer chum) for those needing a little help.
Now go outside and see how many men you can fit on a dead mans chest.
Scurvy Knave.
b.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
...i love it when a plan comes together...
So we recently bade a fond farewell to a Mr. S Turner and a Dr and Mr Reeve. Their respective, overlapping visits were a swell time that included singularly too many deep fried squid legs, as well as a disturbing trend towards the consumption of vast amounts of french fries covered in cheese, bacon and mayonnaise. (Mr Archbold was mentioned in dispatches.)
We managed to fit in Kyoto, Hiroshima, Miyajima, a Beer Garden extravaganza, smatterings of raw horse, some Playstation madness, some swell-a-rific beer-y good times, and an awful lot of good old fashioned nattering amongst what was a tightly packed schedule.
It is always so much fun to have folk come and visit and we have been very lucky in that most of greater Auckland, not to mention some of outlying Christchurch has slept on our couch and eaten dried squid on our floor over the past 4 years. It means alot and we thank you all.
Before that I found myself winging my way to sunny NZ for work and was joined for a weekend by the lovely Tom "Welcome Back Kotter" Symons and the ever radiant Kerryn "Vigil" Moses. Managed to catch up with folk in the Auckland town in a seedy bar for a few hours and to be frank, that was about enough.
Since we bade farewell to Mssr. Turner on Friday, we have been catching up on much needed sleep and, oh yes, detained for two hours by undercover police officers at a nightclub at 2 in the morn. Not for being foreign mind, just for being a little less Japanese than perhaps they would wish (sigh). The assembled foreigners - shoved into a corner by the 5.0. managed to belt out a reasonable version of Kumbaya (sp?), but I think the significance of it was lost on the poor chaps with their burgeoning clipboards.
Big news in the last 24 hours is the superbly orchestrated known-to-everyone-but-Nic arrival of Darren "I Go To Kindy" Ede from sunny London Towne. It would seem my wife still has a mouth like a sailor when surprised late in the evening and as such I will be drafting letters of apology to our neighbours later this afternoon.
On a sad note, I was a little bummed to hear about the passing of Mr Brock. I have whiled away many hours in front of the mighty, mighty Bathurst 1000 with nothing but a large crate of beer and good friends to keep off the chill, and he will be sadly missed. I am reminded of a newspaper clipping I carry in my wallet to this day about an incident at Bathurst whereby some young hooligan (no doubt) broke into Peter Perfects car and scarpered with his laptop. It was later found, back on the seat from whence it was pilfered with a note upon which was simply scrawled...
"Sorry Brocky"
I reckon that's brilliant.
Hope you are all mouy (sp?) bien. In fact I hope you are all super bien.
Tata.
b.
We managed to fit in Kyoto, Hiroshima, Miyajima, a Beer Garden extravaganza, smatterings of raw horse, some Playstation madness, some swell-a-rific beer-y good times, and an awful lot of good old fashioned nattering amongst what was a tightly packed schedule.
It is always so much fun to have folk come and visit and we have been very lucky in that most of greater Auckland, not to mention some of outlying Christchurch has slept on our couch and eaten dried squid on our floor over the past 4 years. It means alot and we thank you all.
Before that I found myself winging my way to sunny NZ for work and was joined for a weekend by the lovely Tom "Welcome Back Kotter" Symons and the ever radiant Kerryn "Vigil" Moses. Managed to catch up with folk in the Auckland town in a seedy bar for a few hours and to be frank, that was about enough.
Since we bade farewell to Mssr. Turner on Friday, we have been catching up on much needed sleep and, oh yes, detained for two hours by undercover police officers at a nightclub at 2 in the morn. Not for being foreign mind, just for being a little less Japanese than perhaps they would wish (sigh). The assembled foreigners - shoved into a corner by the 5.0. managed to belt out a reasonable version of Kumbaya (sp?), but I think the significance of it was lost on the poor chaps with their burgeoning clipboards.
Big news in the last 24 hours is the superbly orchestrated known-to-everyone-but-Nic arrival of Darren "I Go To Kindy" Ede from sunny London Towne. It would seem my wife still has a mouth like a sailor when surprised late in the evening and as such I will be drafting letters of apology to our neighbours later this afternoon.
On a sad note, I was a little bummed to hear about the passing of Mr Brock. I have whiled away many hours in front of the mighty, mighty Bathurst 1000 with nothing but a large crate of beer and good friends to keep off the chill, and he will be sadly missed. I am reminded of a newspaper clipping I carry in my wallet to this day about an incident at Bathurst whereby some young hooligan (no doubt) broke into Peter Perfects car and scarpered with his laptop. It was later found, back on the seat from whence it was pilfered with a note upon which was simply scrawled...
"Sorry Brocky"
I reckon that's brilliant.
Hope you are all mouy (sp?) bien. In fact I hope you are all super bien.
Tata.
b.
Friday, July 14, 2006
...woooohooooo!!!!!!!!!...
what better way to celebrate the end of the rainy season......than with more rain?
but this time folks, its worth your while...
thunder!!
lightning!!
wooohooo!!
we've had lightning and thunder continuously for the last two hours. now the rain is here and the fun continues!!
this is the real deal folks.
fork lightning all over the place, rolling thunder that shakes the house and sets off car alarms.
wooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooo!
i love this time of year.
out.
but this time folks, its worth your while...
thunder!!
lightning!!
wooohooo!!
we've had lightning and thunder continuously for the last two hours. now the rain is here and the fun continues!!
this is the real deal folks.
fork lightning all over the place, rolling thunder that shakes the house and sets off car alarms.
wooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooo!
i love this time of year.
out.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
...and STILL no sleep...
Right-o.
So not that much has been going on here in sunny Japan as of late so I thought I'd enlighten you to another reason why I'm sleepy...
The Damnable Frogs:
We live in the city, although through some quirks of the Japanese Agricultural Bureuacracy, we have a rice paddy over the fence. It's pretty big. Generally it's quite a lot of fun having it there. I say a cheery hello to the ANCIENT guys who look after it when they are planting, harvesting and tending, and it's a nice reminder of the passing of the seasons.
However.
With rice paddies and spring, come frogs.
And they just don't shut up.
And as it's hot at night now (like mid-high 20's all night) we sleep with the screen doors open.
Generally it goes like this:
Sun goes down.
We go to bed.
Frogs go:
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH
All.
Night.
Long.
Except for random times when they all stop in an instant. Then it is blissful, pure, golden, tantalising silence.
Until one of the little bastards goes...
RAH?
And all his mates go...
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH
So thats pretty crap.
Tooroo.
So not that much has been going on here in sunny Japan as of late so I thought I'd enlighten you to another reason why I'm sleepy...
The Damnable Frogs:
We live in the city, although through some quirks of the Japanese Agricultural Bureuacracy, we have a rice paddy over the fence. It's pretty big. Generally it's quite a lot of fun having it there. I say a cheery hello to the ANCIENT guys who look after it when they are planting, harvesting and tending, and it's a nice reminder of the passing of the seasons.
However.
With rice paddies and spring, come frogs.
And they just don't shut up.
And as it's hot at night now (like mid-high 20's all night) we sleep with the screen doors open.
Generally it goes like this:
Sun goes down.
We go to bed.
Frogs go:
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH
All.
Night.
Long.
Except for random times when they all stop in an instant. Then it is blissful, pure, golden, tantalising silence.
Until one of the little bastards goes...
RAH?
And all his mates go...
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-
RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH-RAH
So thats pretty crap.
Tooroo.
Monday, June 12, 2006
...sleepy...
So I'm pretty sleepy this morning...
Reason Why I'm Pretty Sleepy This Morning 1:
That Bastard On His Bike:
So it's starting to warm up here in Japan land. Its over 20 degrees at night so we sleep with the doors open. Not so bad. Quiet street and all that. Until about 3 o'clock this morning when one of the circular delivery chaps delivers (as he does) his circulars by moonlight....
...on a motorbike...
...with a muffler problem....
...and squeaky brakes....
...and a squeaky kickstand...
...with a cold...
So we hear as he turns the corner into our street....
...squeaks to a halt outside the first house...
...kicks down his squeaky kick stand...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
(presumably delivers a circular)
...gets on his bike...
...kicks up the squeaky kick stand...
...revs the engine...
...kicks it into gear and tears 5 metres up the road to the next house, whereby he...
...squeaks to a halt outside the second house...
...kicks down his squeaky kick stand...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
(presumably delivers a circular)
...gets on his bike...
...kicks up the squeaky kick stand...
...revs the engine...
...kicks it into gear and tears 5 metres up the road to the next house whereby he...
...you get the idea...
It continued like this all the way up our street until he got to our house whereby he decided to really outdo himself.
...etc...
...etc...
...etc...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
...sniffs...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
...runs up stairs...
...trips...
...falls...
...swears...
(definately delivers circular)
...HOPS DOWN STAIRS ONE AT A TIME HAVING PRESUMABLY INJURED HIMSELF BY TRIPPING UP THEM SECONDS BEFORE...
...swears at every step...
...etc...
...etc...
...etc...
Reason Why I'm Pretty Sleepy This Morning 2:
Enormous Bloody Earthquake At 5:01 This Morning:
This was probably one of the biggest earthquakes I have ever been in. It started as a low rumbling that went on for a while then suddenly kicked into quite the rolling, shaking mess. It was cool fun. Turns out it was centered a couple of hundred kms away and 140 kms deep, but it was most severe right here in sunny Hiroshima. Just on 5 on the Japanese scale. Rolly and jumpy, but no real damage.
The news reports are the best following a quake like this. Crack teams of reporters are sent out immediately to find as much gore and horror as they can. Luckily in this instance there was none. Which leaves the reporters in quite a quandry. they KNOW people will be tuning in to get the reports of the earthquake and see if there is a tidal wave alert, but the also KNOW that not really all that much happened. Which leads to excellent interviews like the ones this morning:
Excited TV News Reporter Talking Exclusively To EyeWitness:
"So! The Earthquake! Lucky to be alive-aaah! Tell us all about it-aaaah!!
Exclusive EyeWitness:
"The ground shook for a bit and then it stopped"
Excited TV News Reporter Talking Exclusively to EyeWitness:
"You must have been terrified! So close to death-aah!!"
Exclusive EyeWitness:
"Eh? Not really. The ground did shake a bit. But then it stopped"
Or the guy that ran to the train station to hear about any carnage on the rails...
Excited TV Reporter Talking to Rail Spokesperson:
"So-aaah. Any horrible train wrecks!"
Rail Spokesperson:
"No. The ground shook for a bit and then it stopped. All our emergency systems worked and we were back on schedule within minutes"
Excited TV Reporter Talking to Rail Spokesperson:
"Commuter Chaos! Underfunding? Employee dissatisfaction? Outmoded training and management styles?"
Rail Spokesperson:
"No. The ground shook for a bit and then it stopped. We were back on schedule within minutes"
Excited TV Reporter:
"Obviously still shaken from his near death ordeal...Back to you in the studio"
Teeheehee. So thats the talk of the town at present. We're OK. Things are good. Hope all is well.
Yours.
Sleepy Berin.
Reason Why I'm Pretty Sleepy This Morning 1:
That Bastard On His Bike:
So it's starting to warm up here in Japan land. Its over 20 degrees at night so we sleep with the doors open. Not so bad. Quiet street and all that. Until about 3 o'clock this morning when one of the circular delivery chaps delivers (as he does) his circulars by moonlight....
...on a motorbike...
...with a muffler problem....
...and squeaky brakes....
...and a squeaky kickstand...
...with a cold...
So we hear as he turns the corner into our street....
...squeaks to a halt outside the first house...
...kicks down his squeaky kick stand...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
(presumably delivers a circular)
...gets on his bike...
...kicks up the squeaky kick stand...
...revs the engine...
...kicks it into gear and tears 5 metres up the road to the next house, whereby he...
...squeaks to a halt outside the second house...
...kicks down his squeaky kick stand...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
(presumably delivers a circular)
...gets on his bike...
...kicks up the squeaky kick stand...
...revs the engine...
...kicks it into gear and tears 5 metres up the road to the next house whereby he...
...you get the idea...
It continued like this all the way up our street until he got to our house whereby he decided to really outdo himself.
...etc...
...etc...
...etc...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
...sniffs...
...coughs...
...hoicks...
...runs up stairs...
...trips...
...falls...
...swears...
(definately delivers circular)
...HOPS DOWN STAIRS ONE AT A TIME HAVING PRESUMABLY INJURED HIMSELF BY TRIPPING UP THEM SECONDS BEFORE...
...swears at every step...
...etc...
...etc...
...etc...
Reason Why I'm Pretty Sleepy This Morning 2:
Enormous Bloody Earthquake At 5:01 This Morning:
This was probably one of the biggest earthquakes I have ever been in. It started as a low rumbling that went on for a while then suddenly kicked into quite the rolling, shaking mess. It was cool fun. Turns out it was centered a couple of hundred kms away and 140 kms deep, but it was most severe right here in sunny Hiroshima. Just on 5 on the Japanese scale. Rolly and jumpy, but no real damage.
The news reports are the best following a quake like this. Crack teams of reporters are sent out immediately to find as much gore and horror as they can. Luckily in this instance there was none. Which leaves the reporters in quite a quandry. they KNOW people will be tuning in to get the reports of the earthquake and see if there is a tidal wave alert, but the also KNOW that not really all that much happened. Which leads to excellent interviews like the ones this morning:
Excited TV News Reporter Talking Exclusively To EyeWitness:
"So! The Earthquake! Lucky to be alive-aaah! Tell us all about it-aaaah!!
Exclusive EyeWitness:
"The ground shook for a bit and then it stopped"
Excited TV News Reporter Talking Exclusively to EyeWitness:
"You must have been terrified! So close to death-aah!!"
Exclusive EyeWitness:
"Eh? Not really. The ground did shake a bit. But then it stopped"
Or the guy that ran to the train station to hear about any carnage on the rails...
Excited TV Reporter Talking to Rail Spokesperson:
"So-aaah. Any horrible train wrecks!"
Rail Spokesperson:
"No. The ground shook for a bit and then it stopped. All our emergency systems worked and we were back on schedule within minutes"
Excited TV Reporter Talking to Rail Spokesperson:
"Commuter Chaos! Underfunding? Employee dissatisfaction? Outmoded training and management styles?"
Rail Spokesperson:
"No. The ground shook for a bit and then it stopped. We were back on schedule within minutes"
Excited TV Reporter:
"Obviously still shaken from his near death ordeal...Back to you in the studio"
Teeheehee. So thats the talk of the town at present. We're OK. Things are good. Hope all is well.
Yours.
Sleepy Berin.
Monday, May 15, 2006
...seoul...sole...soul...
We went to Seoul recently. It was fun. And only an hour away. Here's some snaps...
We stayed at the W Hotel Seoul, which was nifty, swell and terrific rolled into one handy BONKERS little package. This is the jacuzzi in our room overlooking the river. Nic refused to point blank to call me Mr Bond. Which hurt a little.
This is me plotting my Complete World Domination (CWD), as well as promising myself to be on the lookout for Those Damned Pesky Kids (TDPK) and reminding myself NOT to reveal all of my Dastardly Plans (DP) to them by way of gloating while they are in some sort of Completely Implausible And Easy To Escape From Death Contraption(CIAETEFDC). All in the hotel bar. Veeery convenient.
This was the pool. Also bonkers.
Oh. And I met Spidey. He is buff with a capital "B". So he was happy to meet a like-spirit in myself. He also always has time for a "Look Both Ways When Crossing The Street Kids" Thumbs Up. What a guy...
'nuff said
...cotton. Acres and acres of cotton. We went to an entire department store of fabric. This was the basement. IT WAS ALL COTTON. In the classic wall-to-ceiling-city-block-sized-fire-trap layout. The next floor was buttons....ALL BUTTONS...and so on. Nic went a little feral and threatened to "cut me" when I suggested that 4 hours on the 4th floor (BEADS...ALL BEADS) was enough. The security guards helped me get the QuikUnpick out of her deathlike grip.
We went to the DMZ. About an hour and a half from Seoul City. Thats North Korea straight ahead and the blue buildings are half in the North and half in the South, the concrete line you can see between the two is the border. It was a strange place to be.
These guys were bitchin'.
Technically I'm standing in North Korea here.
Through that doorway behind me I could hear all the fun of the Kim Jong Il Appreciation Society. All I had for protection was this cat. Check out the Shiny Helmet that I can only guess says "STEP TO ME. I WILL KICK YOUR COMMIE ASS" in Korean on the front.
These guys were everywhere - they all stood like this - rock solid to attention the whole time we were there. The kicker for me was that they all kept their fists clenched THE WHOLE TIME as if barely holding back their pinko-commie-kicking-tae-kwon-do-skillz. Then there was the Ray-Bans, the GOLD raybans. I gave this guy a hug and told him he could be my wingman ANYTIME...
Here's another look. This guys right foot is in South Korea and his left foot is in the North. Seriously, the Ray Bans? Brilliant.
The tallest flagpole in the world.
160 Meters tall and the flag weighs 270 odd kilos. They have to whip it down as soon as rain threatens 'cos it'll bring the whole thing down if the flag gets too wet.(...)
Charm, adds a bit of charm.
Thats North Korea over there - looks a little.....bleak. Note how the trees are all gone from their side of the fence. I was informed very gravely by a Japanese chap on my return that the North Koreans cut all the trees down because they "...hate nature...". He refused to accept that it might be because they are "...bloody freezing..."
Still.
Bloody big flag that...
...thats a lot of cassette tapes. I felt pretty old looking at these. I haven't seen this many tapes since I don't know when...and so neatly stacked!!
This is Nic at the biggest BBQ Restaurant in the world - seats 1600 people. That's a lot of beefy goodness to be cooked over charcoal at your table.
Still.
We managed.
Mmmmm. Beefy goodness....
Continuing the food theme, this is Nic with the Pancake From Beyond. It's got sugar and cinnamon folded into a little joey pouch inside it, then it's deep fried to all buggery. Mmmmmm. Deep Fried Goodness...
But this, ladies and gentlemen, this one took the cake....
THIS is the food of the future.
THIS will take us to Mars and back.
Soylent Green isn't people you drooling-right-wing-gun-nut-freak! Soylent Green is A-HOT-DOG-ON-STICK-WITH-THE-CHIPS-ALREADY-ATTACHED!!!!!!!
(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
I don't know if you can tell from the photo, but I am actually crying a tear of joy over the triumph of the human spirit here.
Would you look at this!!!
The chips!!
They're ALREADY attached!!!
They are FRIED into place!!!!!
Unbeleivable.
Richard - you were mentioned in dispatches.
Truly a life changing discovery.
I can't go on...
Close-Up...
THE CHIPS ARE FRIED IN PLACE FOR PETES SAKE!!!!
There's a lot of Kimchi in Korea.
And it's bloody good. This was at one of the main markets in Seoul. Where we saw a guy skinning a pig in a alleyway. Thats what I'm after in a market. Pig skinning. And hots dogs with chips fried into them (did I mention those?)
Again at the market. Ready to eat Pigs Trotters that look like something out of "A Very Dahmer Christmas"
Mmmm. Pork.
Me and the tank that stopped that Nazi Bastard. The mighty, mighty T-34.
For some reason there was a whole bunch of Soviet hardware lying about the place...nice tank, as far as they go...
These guys were a hell of a funny. We saw them at the War Memorial Museum - they were Korean Army Recruits on a field trip - presumably to take the piss out of their forebears - check out their poses vs. those of the statue behind them...
So yeah. Seoul was good fun. Get along in there.
Not much happening at present. Watching the appreciation of the Yen vs. the depreciation of the kiwi dollar with much glee and hand rubbing.
Hope all is well hither and yon.
Tooroo.
B.
We stayed at the W Hotel Seoul, which was nifty, swell and terrific rolled into one handy BONKERS little package. This is the jacuzzi in our room overlooking the river. Nic refused to point blank to call me Mr Bond. Which hurt a little.
This is me plotting my Complete World Domination (CWD), as well as promising myself to be on the lookout for Those Damned Pesky Kids (TDPK) and reminding myself NOT to reveal all of my Dastardly Plans (DP) to them by way of gloating while they are in some sort of Completely Implausible And Easy To Escape From Death Contraption(CIAETEFDC). All in the hotel bar. Veeery convenient.
This was the pool. Also bonkers.
Oh. And I met Spidey. He is buff with a capital "B". So he was happy to meet a like-spirit in myself. He also always has time for a "Look Both Ways When Crossing The Street Kids" Thumbs Up. What a guy...
'nuff said
...cotton. Acres and acres of cotton. We went to an entire department store of fabric. This was the basement. IT WAS ALL COTTON. In the classic wall-to-ceiling-city-block-sized-fire-trap layout. The next floor was buttons....ALL BUTTONS...and so on. Nic went a little feral and threatened to "cut me" when I suggested that 4 hours on the 4th floor (BEADS...ALL BEADS) was enough. The security guards helped me get the QuikUnpick out of her deathlike grip.
We went to the DMZ. About an hour and a half from Seoul City. Thats North Korea straight ahead and the blue buildings are half in the North and half in the South, the concrete line you can see between the two is the border. It was a strange place to be.
These guys were bitchin'.
Technically I'm standing in North Korea here.
Through that doorway behind me I could hear all the fun of the Kim Jong Il Appreciation Society. All I had for protection was this cat. Check out the Shiny Helmet that I can only guess says "STEP TO ME. I WILL KICK YOUR COMMIE ASS" in Korean on the front.
These guys were everywhere - they all stood like this - rock solid to attention the whole time we were there. The kicker for me was that they all kept their fists clenched THE WHOLE TIME as if barely holding back their pinko-commie-kicking-tae-kwon-do-skillz. Then there was the Ray-Bans, the GOLD raybans. I gave this guy a hug and told him he could be my wingman ANYTIME...
Here's another look. This guys right foot is in South Korea and his left foot is in the North. Seriously, the Ray Bans? Brilliant.
The tallest flagpole in the world.
160 Meters tall and the flag weighs 270 odd kilos. They have to whip it down as soon as rain threatens 'cos it'll bring the whole thing down if the flag gets too wet.(...)
Charm, adds a bit of charm.
Thats North Korea over there - looks a little.....bleak. Note how the trees are all gone from their side of the fence. I was informed very gravely by a Japanese chap on my return that the North Koreans cut all the trees down because they "...hate nature...". He refused to accept that it might be because they are "...bloody freezing..."
Still.
Bloody big flag that...
...thats a lot of cassette tapes. I felt pretty old looking at these. I haven't seen this many tapes since I don't know when...and so neatly stacked!!
This is Nic at the biggest BBQ Restaurant in the world - seats 1600 people. That's a lot of beefy goodness to be cooked over charcoal at your table.
Still.
We managed.
Mmmmm. Beefy goodness....
Continuing the food theme, this is Nic with the Pancake From Beyond. It's got sugar and cinnamon folded into a little joey pouch inside it, then it's deep fried to all buggery. Mmmmmm. Deep Fried Goodness...
But this, ladies and gentlemen, this one took the cake....
THIS is the food of the future.
THIS will take us to Mars and back.
Soylent Green isn't people you drooling-right-wing-gun-nut-freak! Soylent Green is A-HOT-DOG-ON-STICK-WITH-THE-CHIPS-ALREADY-ATTACHED!!!!!!!
(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
I don't know if you can tell from the photo, but I am actually crying a tear of joy over the triumph of the human spirit here.
Would you look at this!!!
The chips!!
They're ALREADY attached!!!
They are FRIED into place!!!!!
Unbeleivable.
Richard - you were mentioned in dispatches.
Truly a life changing discovery.
I can't go on...
Close-Up...
THE CHIPS ARE FRIED IN PLACE FOR PETES SAKE!!!!
There's a lot of Kimchi in Korea.
And it's bloody good. This was at one of the main markets in Seoul. Where we saw a guy skinning a pig in a alleyway. Thats what I'm after in a market. Pig skinning. And hots dogs with chips fried into them (did I mention those?)
Again at the market. Ready to eat Pigs Trotters that look like something out of "A Very Dahmer Christmas"
Mmmm. Pork.
Me and the tank that stopped that Nazi Bastard. The mighty, mighty T-34.
For some reason there was a whole bunch of Soviet hardware lying about the place...nice tank, as far as they go...
These guys were a hell of a funny. We saw them at the War Memorial Museum - they were Korean Army Recruits on a field trip - presumably to take the piss out of their forebears - check out their poses vs. those of the statue behind them...
So yeah. Seoul was good fun. Get along in there.
Not much happening at present. Watching the appreciation of the Yen vs. the depreciation of the kiwi dollar with much glee and hand rubbing.
Hope all is well hither and yon.
Tooroo.
B.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
...this. oh...and that...
We got back from a week in Seoul recently. Bloody good fun it was too. I'll post some piccies as soon as our sick computer returns from the doctors. In the meantime, some this, and some that.
NEW CAR:
We took our car in to get its bi-annual shaken check-up recently - it's like a warrent of fitness and costs NZ$1000 JUST TO TAKE THE TEST. Anything that is deemed wrong during the test must then be fixed. Ever wonder why there are so many used Japanese cars in NZ?? They are, by and large, ones that have been traded in after these damnable tests became too expensive.
Anyway, we had bought the car 3 years ago for 400,000 yen (and, admittedly put 50,000kms on it in that time) so when the car-chap came back from doing the pre-test lookover shaking his head and laughing, we knew we were in trouble.
Long story short: 400,000 yen to fix the car
And so it was that we decided to dump it and get a new one (keep an eye out for it in NZ). After asking around hither and yon, it was actually a car dealer friend of a friend in Gifu, where we used to live, that sorted us out a replacement for our 1995 Black Mitsubishi RVR Sports Gear.....a 1996 Black Mitsubishi RVR Sports Gear...(although the new one is a turbo - woohoo!)
So it was that, briefly, we owned tw
o cars that were essentially exactly the same. Arch suggested we take them head-to-head, but my Gran Turismo skills(z) far outweigh Nics and so it just wasn't worth it.
All excited we were, traipsing back up to Gifu on the Bullet train to get our new car....filled out the endless paperwork....jumped in.....
...and it was just the same as the old one....
...bugger. Really did want some new buttons and dials and the like but alas. It was identical. Still, goes like a cut cat and is in good nick, so we remain happy.
FIRST FLOOR (DAMMIT):
So every year everyone in the City Hall were I work starts to get nervous around the end of March. This is because, in the interests of broadening everyones abilities and avoiding (shudder) s-p-e-c-i-a-l-i-s-a-t-i-o-n, people are, more or less randomly, flung hither and yon about the place. That is, someone who used to be working in a Community Center is suddenly working in the Statistics Division, the Tax guy finds himself in the Sewerage and Wastewater Office and the poor woman that ran the Library now works in the Municipal Housing Section.
As such, the first 3 months or so involve an awful lot of:
"...what's my extension number again..."
"...ummmm...don't know, I'll call my predecessor..."
"...who are you?"
"...woops, predecessor's busy talking with their predecessor..."
"...where the hell is the coffee machine..."
"...which is the best toilet to use around here..."
"...no really, who the hell are you?"
...and the like. I think it's funny as hell. Luckily my job just ticks over, although this year I have been moved from the Planning and Coordination Division, to the Civic Activities Division.
HOWEVER:
I have been moved from the comfortable confines of the 4th floor to the 1st floor, where every Tom, Dick and Suzuki-san comes to sort out whatever needs sorting. So, yeah, just imagine rows upon endless rows of desks bathed in flourescent lighting....and there I am....
It's actually working out OK, have been called on to do heaps more translation stuff for random foreigners at the Tax desk and the like, so thats super.
Righto.
Dashing back to work.
Tata.
B.
NEW CAR:
We took our car in to get its bi-annual shaken check-up recently - it's like a warrent of fitness and costs NZ$1000 JUST TO TAKE THE TEST. Anything that is deemed wrong during the test must then be fixed. Ever wonder why there are so many used Japanese cars in NZ?? They are, by and large, ones that have been traded in after these damnable tests became too expensive.
Anyway, we had bought the car 3 years ago for 400,000 yen (and, admittedly put 50,000kms on it in that time) so when the car-chap came back from doing the pre-test lookover shaking his head and laughing, we knew we were in trouble.
Long story short: 400,000 yen to fix the car
And so it was that we decided to dump it and get a new one (keep an eye out for it in NZ). After asking around hither and yon, it was actually a car dealer friend of a friend in Gifu, where we used to live, that sorted us out a replacement for our 1995 Black Mitsubishi RVR Sports Gear.....a 1996 Black Mitsubishi RVR Sports Gear...(although the new one is a turbo - woohoo!)
So it was that, briefly, we owned tw
o cars that were essentially exactly the same. Arch suggested we take them head-to-head, but my Gran Turismo skills(z) far outweigh Nics and so it just wasn't worth it.All excited we were, traipsing back up to Gifu on the Bullet train to get our new car....filled out the endless paperwork....jumped in.....
...and it was just the same as the old one....
...bugger. Really did want some new buttons and dials and the like but alas. It was identical. Still, goes like a cut cat and is in good nick, so we remain happy.
FIRST FLOOR (DAMMIT):
So every year everyone in the City Hall were I work starts to get nervous around the end of March. This is because, in the interests of broadening everyones abilities and avoiding (shudder) s-p-e-c-i-a-l-i-s-a-t-i-o-n, people are, more or less randomly, flung hither and yon about the place. That is, someone who used to be working in a Community Center is suddenly working in the Statistics Division, the Tax guy finds himself in the Sewerage and Wastewater Office and the poor woman that ran the Library now works in the Municipal Housing Section.
As such, the first 3 months or so involve an awful lot of:
"...what's my extension number again..."
"...ummmm...don't know, I'll call my predecessor..."
"...who are you?"
"...woops, predecessor's busy talking with their predecessor..."
"...where the hell is the coffee machine..."
"...which is the best toilet to use around here..."
"...no really, who the hell are you?"
...and the like. I think it's funny as hell. Luckily my job just ticks over, although this year I have been moved from the Planning and Coordination Division, to the Civic Activities Division.
HOWEVER:
I have been moved from the comfortable confines of the 4th floor to the 1st floor, where every Tom, Dick and Suzuki-san comes to sort out whatever needs sorting. So, yeah, just imagine rows upon endless rows of desks bathed in flourescent lighting....and there I am....
It's actually working out OK, have been called on to do heaps more translation stuff for random foreigners at the Tax desk and the like, so thats super.
Righto.
Dashing back to work.
Tata.
B.
Monday, March 13, 2006
...yeah...fun...
So I really like my job.
Last Friday I gave a speech at Miyajima island, which became part of our city last November. Following it, at the obligatory "have-a-nice-cup-of-tea-and-a-natter" session attended by some of the town elders they regaled me with tales of Miyajima past.
In particular they informed me that the cigarettes and tobacco given to them by New Zealand occupying forces after the war, was....
"The best tobacco I have ever had..."
This was greeted by furious agreement, much nodding of the head and a round of "yep", "delicious" and "mmmmm" by the assembled folk. Then, to a one the five elderly chaps present all mimicked the PERFECT Roll-Your-Own style roll-lick-roll-pinch. It bought a tear to my eye.
What was most interesting was, after extrapolating their ages it became obvious that some of the Kiwis stationed here with J-Force after the war were in fact encouraging smoking in minors. But still, never let it be said they didn't appreciate it.
In other work related news, I just had a chap come to the office and try and convince me for 40 minutes that 9/11 was faked with radio controlled aircraft. One theory to be sure, but made all the more vague and unintelligable as he INSISTED on speaking in English and, rather unfortunately, had a commanding grasp of only about 5 English words (not including, interestingly, "Nine", "Eleven" or "Aircraft" - although in all fairness when someone sticks both arms out, stands up, walks a figure eight and goes "brrrrrrrrrrrrrr" in a crowded office, you get the picture pretty quick.)
No one knows where he came from, and with full respect to my collegues, no-one tried to intervene. They were more than happy to sit there and let me take one for the team.
And bloody good on them too.
As I said, he insisted he speak in English and anytime I tried to enquire about the finer points of his story in Japanese, he would stare at me, raise his fingers to his lips and say...
"...Radio Controlled..."
After 40 rollicking minutes of perfecting my 1000 yard stare he pulled out a pocket radio mid sentence, and, locking eyes with me, put the headphones in and strolled out of my life.
I will miss him.
Last Friday I gave a speech at Miyajima island, which became part of our city last November. Following it, at the obligatory "have-a-nice-cup-of-tea-and-a-natter" session attended by some of the town elders they regaled me with tales of Miyajima past.
In particular they informed me that the cigarettes and tobacco given to them by New Zealand occupying forces after the war, was....
"The best tobacco I have ever had..."
This was greeted by furious agreement, much nodding of the head and a round of "yep", "delicious" and "mmmmm" by the assembled folk. Then, to a one the five elderly chaps present all mimicked the PERFECT Roll-Your-Own style roll-lick-roll-pinch. It bought a tear to my eye.
What was most interesting was, after extrapolating their ages it became obvious that some of the Kiwis stationed here with J-Force after the war were in fact encouraging smoking in minors. But still, never let it be said they didn't appreciate it.
In other work related news, I just had a chap come to the office and try and convince me for 40 minutes that 9/11 was faked with radio controlled aircraft. One theory to be sure, but made all the more vague and unintelligable as he INSISTED on speaking in English and, rather unfortunately, had a commanding grasp of only about 5 English words (not including, interestingly, "Nine", "Eleven" or "Aircraft" - although in all fairness when someone sticks both arms out, stands up, walks a figure eight and goes "brrrrrrrrrrrrrr" in a crowded office, you get the picture pretty quick.)
No one knows where he came from, and with full respect to my collegues, no-one tried to intervene. They were more than happy to sit there and let me take one for the team.
And bloody good on them too.
As I said, he insisted he speak in English and anytime I tried to enquire about the finer points of his story in Japanese, he would stare at me, raise his fingers to his lips and say...
"...Radio Controlled..."
After 40 rollicking minutes of perfecting my 1000 yard stare he pulled out a pocket radio mid sentence, and, locking eyes with me, put the headphones in and strolled out of my life.
I will miss him.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Friday, March 03, 2006
odd...
A phone call came through to the office the other day, and as I fumbled for the phone, it was answered by someone else. Her cheery salutations were cut short and a fairly "furrowed" expression appeared on her brow. She explained calmly and politely that unfortunately the section chief wasn't here and no, neither was the chairperson. She continued to do this several times. Following the conversation she described it as going a little something like this:
Her: "Hello, Pla...."
Caller: "Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: "Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: "Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: "Gimme the #$%'% Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: Gimme the #$%'% Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller "Alright, Gimme the #$%'% Chairperson"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here"
This went on for a while.
When she had hung up I asked her who it had been.
Calm as a summer breeze she looked up and replied:
"Oh. An extortionist."
Turns out they get about 3 or 4 calls a year.
Odd.
Her: "Hello, Pla...."
Caller: "Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: "Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: "Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: Gimme the Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: "Gimme the #$%'% Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller: Gimme the #$%'% Section Chief"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here..."
Caller "Alright, Gimme the #$%'% Chairperson"
Her: "Sorry, he's not here"
This went on for a while.
When she had hung up I asked her who it had been.
Calm as a summer breeze she looked up and replied:
"Oh. An extortionist."
Turns out they get about 3 or 4 calls a year.
Odd.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
London for Christmas 2005-2006: The Piccies
Chips and some sort of petro-chemical by-product (Salad Cream?) - those wacky poms and their heart disease...
We dialled 666 and an upside down police man appeared!
(with special thanks to Marg and Bill Sewell for the "Big Book of 1000 Great Jokes", Xmas 1980)
Hell of a blue-steel by Darren though too just quietly. Its like he's chiselled. Out of rock.
Stern, but exuding a certain Regal-ness in the green.
We were going to have Xmas tea at Kensington with her and Phil, but she burnt the Turkey after popping out to the balcony for a fag.
So we ordered pizza instead.
Afternoon Tea at Claridges.
Quite....English.
Good scones. I bucked the trend by having a Chinese tea that is only picked on two days a year, at dawn. Good fun and chock full of faff.
Special thanks to our resident pom Polly for hooking us up with the culcha.
Rudolph Hess' crashed plane.
The actual one.
At the Imperial War Museum.
BONKERS.
Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.
You'll note it says RE-built 1667.
Oh yes. Been around the block a few times that girl.
Coal Fires. Fine Company. Big Glasses. Good Beer. Yum.
New Years Eve - No Hat, No Dancin`.
Bloody Good fun.
We met a guy that looks like Arch who makes a living selling cheese. His chum, who looks a lot like Mr Michael Weight, spent the whole evening with an apple and a bow and arrow trying to convince people to "just give it a bloody go".
New Years Eve again.
Free Tube using at 5 in the AM.
Still fresh as daisies.
My Pwincess at the Tower of London.
Check out the bloody package on the suit of armour though!!
Who gets THAT excited about lugging around half a tonne of sheet steel?
The bloody Poms.
That's who.
Seriously. Wouldn't that make it MORE of a target?
Tower Bridge smooch.
You learn pretty quick around the Poms not to call this one London Bridge. It brings on much rolling of eyes and gnashing of teeth, and not a little "tut-tut"-ing.
Arch, Nic and Lamb.
Mmmmm.
Lamb.
Berin came back a Fatty.
A Fatty McPatty.
Blurry Nic from the top of St. Paul's Cathedral.
Looking out over the wobbly Millenium Bridge and the Tate Modern and the mighty, mighty Thames (brown though). St Paul's was a big highlight. We went there for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, which was very moving (even for a heathen such as myself), and then back a few days later in fully fledged "Tourist Mode". My Fear-Of-Heights-Induced fingernail marks are still on the stonework at this uppermost balcony.
Big Ben....Not so big.
More of a medium/fair-to-middling Ben (oh for gods sake I KNOW it's the bell they're talking about...but still....not so big.) I felt lied to. This was that time my face was made of play-doh too.
So there you go.
Ye Olde London Towne.
Two greasy, lamb-jus-stained, Yorkshire-pudding-grabbing, warm-hand-pulled-ale-swilling, grumbling-about-the-weather, Hampstead-One-Titsworth-Upon-Buggery-One, where -in-the-hell-did-I-put-that-Empire, double-Gloucester-cream, Essex-Sussex-Westhamptonsheathshire pudgy thumbs up from this punter.
Bloody good fun.
Great thanks to; the Richard Archbold, the Smiths, their combined flat and it's god-sent central heating, the Weights, their bonkers cat, the Ede, that Polly girl, her extended lot, that Jess lady, the Simki, that Jones chap and the meat and cheese counters at Harrods (I openly wept. Sobbed. Lamented.)
Good one.
Toodle Pip.
Berin.
Oh. And Happy New Year.
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