where the contest at?

we have reached the 6,000 visitor mark, dear reader. but, who are you? let’s not have a contest this time around. tell me more about yourself. bring it on.

 ***

 GOD, i’m incredibly drunk. i must have the thirstiest liver west of poland.

home sweet home.

‘cheers’ isn’t the only place where everybody knows your name, dear reader. my village could also qualify. and we have lush canyons and beaches and nature; and… the youngest building in town was built in 1830, probably. the high street pavement is a 13th century affair. there’s tourists down in the valleys, but fortunately they never come this high up the hill. enjooooi.

the village on the other end of the valley. although there’s probably the same mix of locals, parisians and englishmen on the other side, we don’t trust them (or even talk to them):

our tuf-tuf transport vehicle, which i am apparently not allowed to drive as i please, BUH:

yes yes dear reader, we’re having a funky pig pig time in these idyllic surroundings.

promesse faite… promesse tenue.

pictures of dour! yay. most of it was wonderful, and some of it very amusing. and seeing hot chip… swoony swoon. i’m under influence so shouldn’t ramble. my chest hurts. soon, dear reader, i shall write about the village and countryside i come from, with a new batch of pictures. double yay.

the play tent, kristen bunny, steven bunny and muddy shoes:

the queen and her most loyal servant (and two love-bunnies):

i miss my boyfriend. and taipei. and my life. but playing with the little girl next door or gazing over the causse could almost make it okay, make it go away.

sour dour.

mud flats, thousands of tents, hordes of greedy savages and thumping drums. no, dear reader, this isn’t a description of attila’s huns. it’s the dour festival boiled down to its essentials. we actually had a really good time, the weather was sunny, and the music was pretty.

hot chip played a lovely set filled with new songs and a cover of new order’s temptation. i climaxed all over the amassed audience & was high on coke. i don’t know what the rapture were high on, but their music sounded freaky and atonal, they forgot parts of their songs and the lead singer was tripping. everyone seemed to think they did really well though, and there was a huge crowd. ah, the hype. vive la fete was really good, they played all of their bangers, and els pynoo looked like a sexier blondie with better songs. the notwist, on the other hand, played such a ridiculously boring set we had to escape. their soundcheck was groovy as fuck though, we were dancing our asses off and everyone was looking at us strangely… and then we realised the concert hadn’t even begun.

i am now officially in love with simian mobile disco, for they kick major ass. tiefschwarz, justice and vitalic all did their job very well (it only consisted of making me dance in a drugged way). ah, ed banger!  and stereo total’s francoise cactus is the freakiest fortysomething woman i’ve seen in a long time. she called the whole audience (well just about) on stage to dance to a song called ‘we hate everybody in this discotheque’! yeah!

so, we were high & drunk & having fun. which is what matters, and i’ll post pictures soon! ta, dear reader.

or d) i just wasn’t your thing, no ring.

kirsten arrived! so me, hannah, sofie and the feted american herself threw a funky pig pig party chez moi. we played drinking games, exotic musical instruments and a grand piano, and got obnoxiously drunk in the process.

 

sofie defacing something as expensive as a japanese car:

decidedly less alive and kicking the next morning:

then kristen and i left for cologne, our favourite city by far. it was a totally random trip: we got there by bus, a purple mercedes, a cab and a train we nearly missed. then we walked around aimlessly, letting friendly germans guide us and enjoying the splendid weather and the kolsch beer. we realised it was gay pride weekend when we were weaving thru crowds of gay men in their thirties, with skin-tight shirts, badly bleached blond hair and fake tans. CROWDS, huge crowds. i was SCARED. we went to the gay parade though… god, what was that. a selection:

that last picture prominently features kirsten’s dkny frames and my new american apparel cardigan. bi-atch! anyway… it’s three days in, and we’ve already danced and partied our ass off and had the most amazing two-day city trip ever. it was fabulous. (and no, we didn’t dance our ass off to the euro-techno the gay and lesbian verein were playing, it was architecture in helsinki and the blow in my living room, thank you). a suivre….

talking in code.

ding dong ding, kristen’s coming! massive debauchery like, everywhere. meanwhile, let’s devote ourselves to pleasures of the mind. reading geert mak’s megalomaniac novel in europe is quite a good way to do just that. when simon was just a little simon, he had a disillusioned and embittered history teacher, ms. divorcee. ms. divorcee was too lazy to teach from a coursebook, so she made us read those 1960s popular history semi-novels you’ve got. i don’t know much about boring economical details, but i’ll never forget hannibal crossing the alps! or the fall of carthage! or catherine the great’s estonian chambermaid!

in europe pulls the same thing off for the twentieth century. it’s a novel, yet it’s not. it sucks you in.

so. i went to antwerp for some discount shopping and bloody mary’s in the hilton hotel… with who else than seba? sofie, the one person on earth who puts the ‘i’ in ‘apricot-coloured hair’, was also there for her first-ever meal with chopsticks. they all had wild adventures, but i bought wooden shoes that made grandaunt marianne’s heart beat faster. (oh Jesus! they’re CROCO! i LOVE croco! i wish i was a twenty y.o. boy right now!) meanwhile, i trust the boyfriend, hmmyes i do, till the next episode of ‘The Fear’ comes crashing in.

pretty picture of the wooden shoes:

please don’t work it out.

hmm. it is dark outside, dear reader, and so is the ever so intricate world of my thoughts. and gloomy. and quite byzantine as well (‘byzantine’ as in ‘the byzantine empire was a nation of backstabbing hypocrites poisoning their spouses with fondant chocolat a la strychnine & playing with cuckooing wind-up bird automata’, but whatever).

i hope the boyfriend situation will work out! i violently do. i was at ikea today, a bit high on coke, and i saw all these beautiful objects that make you believe that if you buy them, your life will bathe in sunshine and you’ll be perfectly happy’. all manner of visa card abuse ensued, of course. i want to get what i want… and what the boyfriend wants! altruism is, as you should know, a beautiful virtue.

this fondant chocolat tastes like bitter almonds… it’s really rather peculi… cdhjcdehhwjhhhjhjk waah waah waah i die.