more crap
Mood:  chillin'
Now Playing: Elisabeth goin' thumpa thumpa on the ol' pi-an-o
Topic: Stephen Says
We just saw The Yes Men which almost made me pee myself so much that I still feel damp... They embody what I wish I was. Except for the gay thing - I'm happy with Elisabeth - she's man enough for me... besides, I'm alreay a lesbian's 'girlfriend.' Help.

Actually, it's not so bad if you ask me... There's lots of hand holding and she doesn't make obscure demands. If only I hand the right kind of implants.

Not the kind that the Yes Men have
(Though I'm not bragging...)

Anyway, see the movie and tell me whree I can see the 1st 1/2 of the video I linked to below. It's important stuff.

Um, ignore the above. I'm embarassed. More embarassed than doing the robot with a belly dancer.

London Crawling
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Elisabeth's Entries
It's Sunday morning and after a good lie-in I feel recovered from our 24hrs in London.

The long story: we left our apartment at 6:00pm. Our destination was the Comfort Inn at Harrow so we could drop off our belongings before going to Bombay Dreams in Wembley.

Stephen was wearing dress pants, dress shoes, a blue botton-up shirt and a TIE. I wore a new black pleated skirt (only 45 GBP at House of Fraser marked down from 180 GBP- nice!), black top, black tights, black shoes.

We bought two travel cards, and were on our way to Waterloo, which is usually only 30-40 min.

It took us 2 hours to get to Harrow:

But generally we were impressed by how far the tube system extends, and we found ourselves up in north London suburbia. We arrived at the hotel at 8pm, and had 1 hour to get 5km on public transport. We then realized that Harrow & Wembley Central were on different tube lines, and decided to take a bus, only the bus we needed to take didn't appear to have a bus stop, and there were no information officers, so we had to back track on the tubes to a connecting station, and ended up travelling for another hour on the tube to get to Wembley. Stephen getting anxious. Lesson learned: when in doubt, take a cab.

We arrived at Bombay Dreams, were not frisked for some reason (Stephen had a knife on him to boot) and were greeted by Stephen's co-worker who's birthday we were celebrating. She was dressed beautifully in a sari with jewels on her forehead and exotic make-up. I didn't recognize her. The venue was a medium-size hall that was filled with group tables, a dance floor and bar. Decorations were drapped cloth & chandeliers. There was live asian music and we were two of four white people there.

As is customary, no one is served food until all of the guests have arrived. So we all sat waiting, smoking, drinking wine or non-alcoholic beverages.

The entertainment encouraged people to dance, but tradition is that no one dances until the oldest dance first.

Then a belly dancer (not asian, but Turkish as was pointed out to us) came on the scene. After performing a couple songs, she made her way through all the tables. I pointed to Stephen and she made her way over. Stephen got up and instead of dancing with the lady, started doing "the robot" with his back to her. I mean what the hell was he thinking?!

A hookah pipe was introduced, strawberry.

The food finally arrived, and was delicious. As soon as we finished eating, the dancing started -great for digestion...And so the evening went on.

We left around 1am, and the restaurant staff insisted on calling a cab for us. It turns out they called one of their friends and not a proper cab driver, and we were massively overcharged. But who cares. Lesson learned: when in doubt, call a cab, yourself, and always ask how much the fare will be before you set out.

The hotel seemed to be empty, until we found our room (after a maze of corridors and stairs) and found the only other guests were a gentleman and a prostitute who were enjoying the room next to ours. We could hear them before we even got into our room. It was very strange, they liked role-play and talking a lot. Our room was dusty, smokey, and the bed felt rather unclean.

Nevertheless, we slept until 8:30am. We decided to spend Saturday in Camden market (which is nowhere near Harrow) and that we would wait to eat breakfast when we got there. Good thinking! It only took us an hour to get there!

NOTE: Weekends and Bank Holidays are prime time for public transport engineering works. Stephen sums this up very well "This proves that London is geared towards making businesses run efficiently, and doesn't care about tourists or anyone else."

See if you can come up with a way to get from station: Harrow-on-hill to Camden Town with the following restrictions:

1. The metropolitan line is closed between Wembly Park and Liverpool street.

2. The Circle, District and Metropolitan line are closed Eastbound from Baker Street to Liverpool Street.

3. The Northern line is closed from Camden Town to Kennington. Remember: there are two tracks on the Northern Line.

How do you get to Camden Town? Note: you're hungry and hung-over and only learn of the closures when you arrived at the next tube station...and go.

A map of the tube

Long and the short: we used the bus in the end, which has resulted in a tranport epiphany. I will never go back to tubes again! The buses are quick and reliable! Plus you're above ground (and sometimes on the top of a double-decker) and can sight-see.

There was a great reward when we finally arrived in Camden as we found the best breakfast we've had in England at Solo. Mmm.

We spent the day wandering around, then went to Tottenham court: yes, by bus...but finding the right bus, and which bus stop to catch the right was is a whole other story...yikes...and then wandered around soho a bit. A highlight was when a pigeon dropped out of the sky and splatted in the road. Thank god it didn't fall on my head. Then a car ran over it and I heard the air pop out of it. Absolutely revolting.

We soon found ourselves at a pub near Carnaby street, had lunch, then headed home where I promptly devoured a bag of M&ms.

I can't stress how much the tube sucks.

Today is the day of rest, so not sure about the day's blogability. Stay tuned...

Weekend Update
Mood:  loud
Now Playing: The mis-Education of Lauren Hill
Topic: Stephen Says
First things first: This article is pretty funny but scary and sad at the end where it describes Bush making fun of himself. Does he think that acting like an idiot on purpose is funny? Besides, that's the same joke he's been telling for years. There's a video of the shenanigans here, as well.

Now for the important stuff: The sex shop WILL be going ahead in Woking. So long as they sell LEGAL porn (imagine!), have double-doors at the entrance so that shoppers & passer-by's can't see inside, that they don't advertise through 'media' and handouts and that they set up security cameras! Good Lord, I believe that a sex shop in Woking is mentioned in the book of Revelations to coincide with the breaking of the 4th seal. The Rapture really is upon us!

That said, I've just realized that I can buy creamy chocolate penises at our local joke shop (Is the Church aware of this travisty???) so I know what I'll be having for lunch.

On a serious note, we really noticed what a small town vibe Woking has when compared to London. Everyone's so, I don't know, small town & suburban. Well, the youth is. It's hard to explain but when kids try to pull off punk on Woking, it's forced and trendy. When kids do it in London, it's still trendy but just better...

It's too early in the morning to be blogging & my freezer pizza is tempting me.

On Monday, Woking is going to try and get into the Guiness Book of World Records by gathering 140,000 HAND PRINTS over the next year. Then join them all together. And wrap them around an art gallery. Germany holds the current record with 119,537 hand prints. E&I are going to go. The radio station's going to be there, as will a children's presenter from TV. Can't wait.

Woking: Bringing culture to you in ways you never expected.

Die pinko scum!
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: Of Montreal - Sunlandic Twins
Topic: Stephen Says
Back from a very intense 24 hours in London that, I must say, has really opened our eyes to alot of different aspects of the city. In a good way - it doesn't seem like an amusement park for the damned (so much) any more. I'm tired and won't get into the hours of hours that we spent on the tube, the Indian dinner & dance we went to, the sleazy hotel we stayed in or todays shenanigans with bank-holiday tube-works, Camden, Soho, etc...

We're officially boring. What movies do we rent to get us through the week? 2 documentaries and an Almodovar film. Pretentious, dour lefties, that is what we are.

That said, after months of whining & searching, I've finally gotten the motorhead shirt I've been wanting. Of course, it doesn't compare to the worn-out goodness that the one I had when I was 15 would have been had I still had it but, in the years to come, I hope that it will serve me well.

Beep Beep!
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Elisabeth's Entries

I passed! 34 out of 35 on the multiple choice, and 64 out of 75 for the hazard perception.

Next: manual driving lessons...

It was a very strange experience taking this test. I'm not sure I can fully describe how weird it all was, so instead I'll just post the pictures I took while wandering around Guildford (which is where I had to take the test).

Tootie Fruitie
Mood:  mischievious
Topic: Elisabeth's Entries
I just made a new dessert = I am so happy!

I was sitting around having eaten leftover ratatouille,which incidently turned out marvelously (oh organic ingredients taste so good!), thanks Stephen, and was lamenting that we ate all the cookies and we have no butter for baking cakes or anything.

But we had those damn plums from last week's box which we have been avoiding by hiding in the vegetable drawer. And then it hit me: make a plum pie with out the crust! I added a bit of raspberry jam, a few strawberries, sprinkled with a brown sugar/olive butter/flour mixture, baked at 190 C for about 10 min: et viola:

It has all the good taste of a pie, without the fatty crust. Must make again!

Tonight I'm studying for the Driving Theory test which I'll be taking on Thursday...will she fail, or will she pass? Brrooomm, brroooom....

Man, I can't wait...
Topic: Stephen Says
E&I are looking into activities in South Carolina and I must say, I am pumped. It's been a long, long time since I've been to the proper south and I'm looking forward to the cultural experience.

These are the things I want to do in Edisto:
-Get some groceries at the Piggly Wiggy and some veggies over at the Geechie Boy.
-Maybe for a nice night out, grab a bite at Buck's Pizza or Noble Roman's Pizza, but more likely I'll be cravin' some propah southern vittles at the Sea Cow's Eatery or Po-Pigs Bo-B-Q.
-Some nightlife at Coot's Lounge (Which sounds like a place that I'll fit right in at)
-And before I leave, I'll be sure to get some souveniers at Clawdaddy's.

I can't wait. It's going to be weird.

And the question of the day is...
Topic: Stephen Says
Should Prince Harry go to war?

My vote: why not?

After all, like most people who flunk out of school (Seriously; the ginger-haired wimp had to cheat in art class. Who on earth needs to cheat in art class?), he was given the choice: get a job or join the army. And of course, when you're royalty you don't work unless it's to keep you’re 'good' name out of the tabloids because you still haven’t caught on that that somewhere; anywhere in England there is a paper out there willing to pay thousands of pounds to anyone who can come up with a story on the royal family, no matter how ludicrous that story may be.

(Hmm, I sense a get rich quick scheme…)

So he joined the army and, after a bit of confusion about which army he had actually joined in the first place (I assume that on top of flunking out of art, he also flunked history as he had no idea that England had in fact not been conquered by the Nazi’s and that dressing up like one is considered poor taste.), he did his training and is now a soldier.

Man, I would love to see his hazing video. If Canadians can produce hazing videos as extreme as we have done in the last few years, I’m fairly certain that British ones set a new level of depravity.

So now, having avoided getting a job, Harry has completed his training and has (oh shit!) realized that he’s now got a job. As a soldier. And that means he’s going to have to go to, um, war.

Now far be it on me to wish death upon unemployed leeches who sponge off the tax payer while maintaining a lifestyle that is so much richer than those tax payers who foot your bill (Next week’s article: The royal family as yobs: there is no difference) but I think that sending the man who’s 3rd in line to the throne to Iraq is a very good idea.

After all, the lad has no direction, no real skills (Other than somehow managing to pull hot girls & strippers at clubs)(And he still doesn’t understand where all these stories about him come from…) and no real personality other than being the so-called black sheep of the royal family. With luck he’ll go to war and see the reality of everything first hand and maybe then he can grow a social conscious and maybe be a little like a human and a little less like Britain’s answer to Patrick Bateman.

Yeah, right.

Anyway, I’ve ranted enough, really. I’m just procrastinating because I’ve got to do some dishes and get dinner on and it’s ratatouille and I’ve never cooked it before and I don’t really want it but Elisabeth’s got her heart on it and we need to use this big box of organic veggies up because we’re going to get another one next week. This organic box of food is a little like real-life Tetris – every week food comes and if you haven’t eaten it all, then it begins to pile up. So you need to find meals throughout the week that fit all the foods into it otherwise you’ll keep getting more and more food and then it’s game over.

Mind you, it’ll be game over for me if I don’t get dinner on, so…

A rant that will inevitably probably piss someone off
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: E upstairs playing the piano with her headphones on so that all I hear is the thumpa-thumpa of the pedals.
Topic: Stephen Says
Well what can I say; Friday was a pleasant night out in Greenwich and Saturday was borderline apocalyptic. I was up at about 8:30, having only gone to bed around 4/4:30ish and in dire straits with respect to my need for food since, as is the norm, little to no food was consumed the day previous. E&I left the flat with promises to return with food and I hit the corner store, wolfed down 2 chocolate bars as we headed for the market and, eventually ate at a very nice but so over priced it’s not even remotely funny organic breakfast place that catered to a steady stream of yuppies just popping by for their soy milk latte as they wrap up their Saturday morning jog. And by jog, I mean excuse to walk around thinking to themselves ‘Someone please look at me. I’m beautiful.’

It was during the meal that I realized that I was going downhill and, perhaps, it was not a good idea to stay in London. We got on the DLR (Free for some reason) and things were cool until we got to Canary Wharf and I threw up, oh, pretty much everywhere. Serves them right for not putting garbage cans anywhere. So yeah, I coated pillars, glass doors, etc. and the funny thing is that no one reacted. No one pointed & laughed of avoided me or gave me a dirty look. We got outside by the water & I was feeling much better but my face was pretty drippy and I didn’t have anything to wipe my face with. Luckily E had a spare pair of knickers on her person so that I could blow my nose & make myself as presentable as possible until we found a public restroom where I could wash up. Everything else was pretty easy going – caught the tube & train back to town and, after a bath, I had a snooze and dined on freezer pizza for the rest of the day.

The Guardian was giving away a free copy of Super Size Me so E bought that and we watched the film that is weird to watch when you’re already aware of all of it and making a go of being organic already. According to my wife; it’s a nice companion piece to The Corporation & Not on the Label. It certainly makes a lot of sense in relation to The Corporation which, I’m realizing, is a documentary that gets better & better as time goes by because of the way that it’s affecting my thinking when dealing with random corporate idiocy and/or evilness.

Anyway, as I got in yesterday morning, I grabbed a copy of the Woking Informer that was hanging around outside our flat. This is the fabulously informative (ahem), free (except that it’s 25p where sold) weekly paper about Woking. This week’s front page scandal: “Church furious at ‘seedy’ sex shop.” That’s right folks, Woking wants it’s very first sex shop and many people (Primarily church-goers, according to the article) feel “the enterprise would give the town a poor image, attract undesirables and lower the moral tone” of the area.

Excuse me?

Woking, already in the top 20 crap towns? Woking with it’s alien & airplane statues? Woking of the horrible damp and dark tunnel? Woking with it’s nightlife so pathetic that people actually go to Guildford instead of Woking? Woking whose existence is based on being either a feeder town for London or a source of low-cost houing for people on the dole? Woking whose tunnel is pasted by food and vomit (Not mine) on a Friday night? Woking whose contribution to literature is that H.G. Wells hated it so much that he had is aliens blow it up first? Woking whose most famous (And I use the term loosely) living person is a Portuguese transsexual who won a reality T.V. show? That Woking?

The Woking of the high moral tone whose only modern claim to fame is that it has… a mall? I mean when you’re selling your town on the fact that it’s got precisely what every other town has, you know you’re in serious trouble.

But apparently for some, a sex shop that will stock “videos, books, magazines, marital aids lingerie and ‘ancillary items’” is crossing the line.

Yet again, I’m bowled over by the way in which people who claim to be spiritual are so utterly scared shitless of s-e-x. I suppose that if you wanted to do something to make the town better, you could address it’s ever increasing homeless & rough sleeper problem. The fact that it’s got a huge percentage of people with mental health needs that aren’t being met. You could address the fact that there are huge issues with bored & under-stimulated youth, binge drinking and the fact hat the council is more interested in holing up in it’s brand new offices that look ever increasingly like one of Saddam Hussein’s former palaces (read: bomb shelters) than providing the people who pay their salaries with the basics of safety, health and hygiene around the town (Does the pay-toilet in the market count?).

Or you could lobby to ban a sex shop. Good for you, religious community of Woking. You’ve buried your heads in the sand once again and are showing just how out of touch you are with the world in general. Keep up the good work protecting your own petty & narrow scope of what you try to define for others as being right. Next time I’m dodging puddles of vomit in the tunnel, I’ll think of you. Next time I hear how the council is cutting basic services that should be provided to all people, I’ll think of you. Because, God forbid, somewhere out there, there might be a person with a vibrator. Having an orgasm.

Or maybe people will do the right thing and just ignore your silly little petition and realize that the one thing that Woking doesn’t need is yet another discount sports clothing store and then I’ll be able to find out just what those ‘ancillary items’ are. I’m hoping they’re going to be cream filled chocolate penises.

Mmm…penises.

bleah
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: KRS-One
Topic: Stephen Says
It's my team building day today. Where we try to build. As a team. you know, team building? Previously, this has led to nothing but destructon. Looking forward to it.
It's also going to be a theatrical drama for human development style thing out in Greenwich park which will be interesting all in and of itself. At long last, that which I studied is coming home to roost.
Should I survive the day.