How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.
Since I moved out, I don't get to walk my dog, Bella, much. It's gotten even worse lately as I've been away various weekends, to the extent I haven't even been able to make my weekly Sunday walk with her. Lately, when I do make it round, I've even become a little wary of her, afraid that she will see me as a stranger and bite me on the knee, causing me much pain and sadness at the sorry state of the situation, and my brother much glee.
Anywho, on our walks one of the things I love are the London parakeets. I wrote about them once before but can't find the post. I treasure the brief moments on the common when the houses disappear, and all I can see is Bella bounding in the long grass and these exotic beauties swooping between trees.
It's clear to me what I must do now. The letter or resignation has been signed and sealed, the wellingtons and waterproofs have been purchased, and I've got a harmonica, a pen knife, and some sticks to whittle on. I'm heading to the common with my faithful hound in tow to protect these birds, rain or shine. I'll rekindle Bella's faith in me (she's reluctant to go into a sit at times, and she pulls more than she used to for me), and I'll prevent me having to write another inane post about a bird dying. Who's with me?
Oh, and thanks to Katy for single handedly keeping the blog alive through comments over the past 2 weeks. Stellar work.
Presenting the candiru fish. Also known as the willy fish. So called because it is reported to swim up your pee and into your penis where it lodges itself.
So I'm starting a production company and I need some input. Which of the following logos do you like best? They were all designed (fo free!) by a friend of mine after I told him what I was looking for.
The production company will specialize in independent documentaries, music videos, and web media. Eventually I might host a film festival or something. I'm looking for a brand that reflects a contemporary, innovative approach to media and story telling.
But really it just needs to look badass on a t-shirt.
Please vote!
Oh, and it's called "Kangaroo 5 Productions," which explains all the kangaroos. Kinda.
While driving to work recently I heard the song Copocabana on the radio. I'm not sure if I've ever heard it all the way through, but I was in need of a little shoulder shuffling goodness to burn away the gloom so I left it on and in doing so listened to one of the saddest songs I have heard. Did you know this was a sad song? It's basically about this showgirl, her name was Lola, and she has this love of hers, Tony, who works the bar. They work from 8 till 4. I know, you're probabaly thinking the same as me, those aren't bad hours. But wait, they're from 8 AT NIGHT, till 4 IN THE MORNING. Still, I mean, they're in show business, they chose that life and I'm sure it has it's benefits. An issue for the unions maybe, if they were forced to do it 7 days a week but nothing for me to weep about.
Anywho, this dude comes in Rico, with a diamond, and summons Lola over, with a whistle (what a cad). He goes too far with Lola and hot headed Tony rushes in, tables and chairs get smashed, it's a good old bar brawl, I'm loving the action being played out by the speakers, it's just as if I was back in Slots of Fun in Vegas.
Then it gets serious. A single shot is fired out, and, just as Barry is about to enter the chorus he devilishly lezaves us with the question "but just who shot who?" .
Woah. I'm listening to the familiar cheesy chorus I've heard so often but I'm in limbo. Barry you bastard, why toy with us?? Then, almost playfully he drops the emotional bomb..."At the coca, coca cobana....she (Lola) lost her love...".
Then the rest of the song is dedicated to describe the sorry aftermath that is Lola's life without her love...
"Her name is Lola, she was a showgirl But that was 30 years ago, when they used to have a show Now it's a disco, but not for Lola Still in the dress she used to wear, faded feathers in her hair She sits there so refined, and drinks herself half-blind She lost her youth and she lost her Tony Now she's lost her mind!"
This got me thinking about other trojan horse songs, masquerading as fun, finger clicking, happy go lucky favourites, while holding within them a sadness of Shakeperian scale ready to loot and pillage your soul.
You want a conga, you want it quick? Just whip this song on and watch it go! Hold on a second though, listen a bit closer and you'll hear a tale of a poor girl being told that the singer of the song is not actually her father.
Never so cruel and callous a line has formed the background to a limbo competition as:
"If I was in your blood, then you wouldn't be so ugly".
I love this song, especially the bit where the backing singers go "whoop whoop", pulling on the chain of the train in their minds eye as they hurry through the night to their glorious destination. The lyrics however point to dreams lost in LA; the journey East is an admission of defeat, (proving too much for the man) and the singer solemnly chooses to leave behind her life to follow her love:
"I'd rather live with him in his world, than live without him in mine"
Not one, but two dreams shattered. The journey is made all the more sad if we think about how they woud've been feeling on the journey out to LA; the hope and smiles, all to be dashed. And now the romance that was the rocket fuel for their westward journey to the stars and beyond has turned into the shackles round the singer's ankles, their love is maybe the one thing they have left; equal parts overwhelming and life affirming self sacrice and loyalty combined with desperation and fear of losing the one last thing of meaning in her life.
That's all I could think of, but as always, feel free to add in comments...
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