Thursday, 15 November 2007


My Great Great Grand Aunt, thrice removed, was a Fusilli in the Crimean War. It was a messy war, the Crime's were a particularly inventive and slippery people, very hard to prosecute in a civil court, almost impossible some would say.

My Great Great Grand Uncle, thrice removed, was a travelling Yogi in North Western Hindustan (India). He didn't care for war but he didn't care for much else either, marijuana grows wild in much of Hindustan so there are many travelling spiritualists and entertainers who didn't seem to get an awful lot done. In the end they had to compromise his pacifism with her buring desire to be a Fusilli.

Hence the family motto "fight pasta with pasta", we think that's it anyway, it was handed down by some chinese fellas, shortly after they invented pasta (yes, I say the Chinese invented pasta, read it again if you don't believe me). Could've been noodles too "fight noodles with noodles" or maybe it was a mistranslation of "stop throwing your noodles at me". In those days it was considered a great insult to throw a noodle at someone, much like today when Japanese people in hotels and restaurants will be offended if you offer them a tip and they will retort "don't throw your noodles at me!" only in Japanese.

When my ex-wife made pasta she usually added Garam Massala and Chillies to it and I like to put chilli sauce on my pizza. We would often reminisce about our ancestors fighting the crimean war whilst lying on a bed of nails and smoking a huge doobry.

How does lying on a bed of nails equate with spiritualisity? fair question. Well, its the masturbatory equivalent of acupunture, as soon as you lie down all your energy points are connected immediately, so of course it's all over very quickly. Not as good as the real thing but it get's you through the long winter nights. For those who are not so culturally aware, that's the difference between the Asian Superpowers, the Chinese way is driven my method and material profit, Indians focus more on the creative and sensual (I started that rumour).

I've gained over 78 kilos in the last 39 years, Gordon Bennett!


PS. does anyone know a good French teacher in the Brussels area? What about the Etterbeek commune, do they offer anything? Perhaps someone could teach me the lingo in exchange for computer related assistance or some other service?

Sunday, 11 November 2007

Doncaster Rock City

My old mate Dave built a lawnmower out of motorbike parts and I said to him "you know, if you swap the 'D' and 'v' around in your name and add 'r' it spells Vader" and he said "I've fuckin told you to stay the fuck out of my garden, and stop telling people we're mates". Ungrateful bastard, he didn't complain when I let his mom stay at my place so that he could get his end away with the woman from the post office.

One time he called me in the middle of the bloody night, apparently the woman suddenly came-on while they were at it so they had to wash the sheets afterwards. He wanted to ask his mom where the fabric conditioner was, so I took the message and said "Hang on, I'll see if I can wake her". Wasn't too tricky because she was on her hands and knees at the time chomping away at the old pork sword, I just needed to buy a few seconds to let her get her composure. I was as cool as cucumber of course.

A few days later I bumped into Dave at the pub and he was giving it the usual "how come you haven't got a girlfriend eh? what's the matter with you? you don't bat for the other side do you?" and all that, I just kept saying I was waiting for Miss Right and all that, I was thinking "'cos I'm getting free shags off your mom without all the whiney bitchy crap you have to put up with from that tart at the post office" she wanted to marry him but Dave was his own man, meaning he fancied himself more than he fancied her.

Eventually she ditched him and took up with Shane, the guy who did the karaoke on a Friday. It was shame, he on only knew "Blue Suede Shoes" and he could only do it with so much echo on the mike you couldn't tell if he was singing or having a fit. Dave was gutted but not as much his mom was. Me? I just moved on to the next town and the rock rolled on.



PS I'm in England again, going to Paris and Bangkok in a few days, I'll tell yer all about it later