notes from
the MUCK . . .

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.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Look who's back...

Why, it's everyone's favorite irregular regular, where I list some shit in my book "101 things to do before you die", and we pool our collective resources to see how cool we are...catchy title, no?

Anywho, without further delay...

1. Design Your Own Cocktail: Now, I'm guessing I'm not alone in having done this, but what they hey, we get to chalk it up. I actually created the "Dennis Wise" all by myself in my second year at university. Dennis Wise is a football player who used to play for my beloved Chelsea FC. He was my hero back then, and I loved his cheekiness, which others could not handle, an example of such was the time he plucked a hair out of an opponents thigh during the game. Tee hee. My flat mate at the time was studying chemistry, and had a periodic table of cocktails on the wall. Inspired, it was a long term ambition to make a cocktail named after my hero. One drunken night we did; it had raspberry icecream, raspberries, a shit load of vodka, some fruity spirits, and maybe some orange juice. It was potent. That was the only time it was made, and it should stay that way.

The second drink, "Bambino Jesu", I can only claim co-creator credit for. It was inspired by a trip to Venice where two of my friends would say "Baaaaby Jesuus" in the voice of a primary school infant at a nativity play. They changed this for the Italian trip to Bambino Jesu, even if this was not a correct translation. Southern Comfort also played a big part in this trip, and as such, we wanted to make a Bambino Jesus cocktail, comprised of Southern Comfort, Jelly Babies (for the baby), and Um Bungo, a fruit juice that existed in our childhood and was thought to have dried up. We found the um bungo, arrangements were made, and the "Bambino Jesu" made a rather sickly debut. It's a work in progress.

I'm sure you have better stories, use comments to spread the gospel on a great cocktail, (alcoholic and non), the circumstances, and the dear sweet consequences.

2. Leave a Job You Hate: We've all had them. I remember my work experience job was at a pet shop. I thought it would be my dream job, I would roll in and all the animals would be over me like Dr Doolittle. I would spend the morning walking dogs in the local area, before embarking on a leisurely lunch where I would converse with the parrots. The afternoon would be consumed reading magazines with the chipmunks and lit by the neon glow of the aquarium....At the end I would be rewarded for my work with the pet of my choice, a scorpion or an old english sheep dog.

Reality took a huge bite out of my arse when I was made to clean out the dogs, the rodents and just about anything that shat and pissed. My first port of call would be the rodents which were indeed in the aquarium downstairs. The heat was horrific, but was dwarfed by the smell of day old piss and grime which still brings tears to my eyes to think of. Behind the rodent tanks rats who had escaped their bondage ran along pipes. Inside the tanks, large rats stood and stared with black beady eyes at the opening as I placed their food and water dish in with them. I remembered the raptors in Jurassic Park who would systematically test the fence for weaknesses.

If the smell wasn't bad enough, then the death was the deal breaker. Death, death, so much death. I can't remember the order things things died, but I can remember the first. A dwarf long haired rabbit was feeling poorly and was kept in the store room. It was a cute little thing, and every time I was in there, I would check on the little guy. One time came when he didn't react to my voice and fingers at the bars. I poked a little harder, spoke a little louder. Nothing. This escalated into me kicking the cage; if this was a movie then he would've rolled over, and his lifeless eyes would've gazed up at me, I would've dropped to my knees and held my dead friend/comrade/ and cursed the forces that lead to their demise. I left the room, told the owner I thought the rabbit was dead, and went on lunch.

Other things to die were love birds (beautiful, even when I found them in the dumpster outside), two mice (made 2d by my own fair hand when I placed their water bowl on top of them), an African grey parrot which I discovered in the freezer, some hamster babies (eaten by mum), and numerous fish.

I did not quit this job, I worked out the full two weeks because I thought I had to. When I told my teacher about the crappy jobs I had to do, he shrugged his shoulders and said "why didn't you just quit?". I wish I had. Please, if anyone has had the pleasure, please let us know.

3. Be An Extra in a Film: No, I haven't done this. I really want to though. For a long time as a child, I would practice flinging my self down a hill as if I had been shot to practice being an anonymous body. Then some kids saw me and yelled at me and I stopped.

Have you gone further? Please, do tell.