Careless Whisper

I feel so unsure
as I take your hand
and lead you to the dance floor.
As the music dies
something in your eyes
Calls to mind a silver screen
and you're its sad goodbye.
I'm never gonna dance again
guilty feet have got no rhythm

This came on yesterday during Donna's top 2004 when I was on my way home from work. Immediately I turned my poor ancient car radio to top volume, causing a deafening amount of static to spoil the song. (yes, my radio really is ancient) I didn't care though, I was too busy shouting along.
The passion! The pain!
To think I once scorned this song in my teenaged attempts to be cool. I'll never be cool! It's just not me. I have terrible taste in music. If I could I'd put a collection of pink flamingos in my living room! But at least my "camp" status means I can sing along to Careless Whisper and even - I'll admit it- get tears in my eyes from it...

I guess I'm Twieooo Fodder after all... but hey!

Long live the camp queens (m/f)!

We could have lived this dance forever
But now who's gonna dance with me?
Pleeeeease staaaaaay

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Evangelism

As the mother goes last-minute christmas shopping, I'm babysitting two three-year-olds, a six-year-old girl and an eight-year-old boy during my stint as "family counselor".
Me: "So kids, did you watch Harry Potter over the weekend?"
They: "We're not allowed to watch magic by our religion, it's evil."

Oooookaay....

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What have you been up to since we last heard you Piglet, you might ask.

Well, children, I'll tell you.
- I babysat an 18-month-old two nights in a row, with The Girlfriend.
- I played Uno till 5.30 am on Christmas day (starting on Christmas Eve obviously) because we were playing to 500. And when you play to 500 it doesn't matter what time it gets, you must play to 500. Obviously. (I lost, shut up)
- I've been to two of the girlfriend's family gatherings. On one I had a nervous breakdown and started crying in the middle of a debate on racism (or should that be a racist debate?). I'm still debating whether to call the other offended party (who stalked off in a fury) to apologise. I sure make my impression on my in-laws don't I?!
- I had my fun when I saw The Girlfriend's tough tuned-car-owner stepbrother had a VTM sticker on said tuned car. *snort*
- I worked two days. Wasn't worth much.
- I did not have to put up with the Smiling Bitch Boss from Hell because she's on a trip to the ardennes with her whole Perfect Family, in a Perfect White Christmas atmosphere, eating Perfect Food in their Perfect little chalet.
- I got a Christmas card from said Smiling Bitch Boss from Hell. The one for the (sweet) intern spoke of her "enthusiasm" and "dynamism" (I remember mentioning my hatred of the quality of being "dynamic" before...). Mine just said "thanks for your efforts". Scribbled on afterwards. Needless to say I didn't put that card up!
- I went to a fabulous slash meeting where I met Melle (*squee*), Rane_ab (*woohoo*)and the pervy Sileas (*oh baby*).
- After said slash meeting The Girlfriend started improvising Tigger/Pooh slash. I discovered I have squicks. How dare she!
- That same day I went on a date with half of blogland. Unfortunately no-one has Dimi's number, so another glance at his fabulous mullet was not to be... Damn you!
- My parents were pissed off because I didn't phone them at Christmas. They didn't phone me either.
- I chased cats out of the christmas tree
- I pulled a plastic pine needle out of a cat's arse (not my fault they think it's edible)
- I opened very sweet and fabulous Christmas presents
- I was engrossed in the new Storm Constantine book (see Christmas presents)
- I had a little feel and guess as to what might be in certain Birthday presents
- I didn't sleep nearly enough.
So if you'll excuse me, I'll go take a bath now... and relax......

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Rejoice!

...And the darkest hour is just before dawn.
(each night before you go to bed, my baby... tum tum tum tum whisper a little prayer for me my baby-y-yeah.. (copyright the Mamas and the Papas)

Right.
Rejoice, oh fellow northern-hemispherians! The days are getting longer again!

But enjoy the longest night, for the time being. :)

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Liars!

"Oh these lamps are fabulous. I've had those myself, for ten years, and nothing ever goes wrong with them. I don't think I've ever had to change them even!"

This was three weeks ago, in a DIY shop.
Our lamps just went out, taking the lights of the living room with them.
I was Handy Andy and fixed everything (it wasn't very difficult).

Indeed... never ever trust a salesperson.

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This makes a few things clear!

The Girlfriend alerted me to this hilarious comparison of dog's and cat's thought-processes...

For those of you who didn't read it on Semper Magis yet.

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The nerve

After consequently stealing my socks (2003-04), underwear (2003-04), my T-shirts (Nov-Dec 2004), the Girlfriend went to work today wearing my very own Slytherin scarf!
Vengeance shall be mine!

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Baaaaaaaaalls Mister Bennett! (points to whoever gets the film reference)

Action: plucking a cat out of a christmas tree.
Reaction: angry/scared cat.
Result: three red, bleeding scratches on left hand.

I think someone will be calling a social worker soon to check up on my homelife (beaten by the sweetie?)

Also, the "unbreakable" Christmas tree balls we bought yesterday (assured unbreakable by Ellen, who said they sounded plastic).... they're not unbreakable. Really. Trust me. They're not.

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passport

We went to a photographer today, since the sweetie needed a photo for her new electronic identity card (and how scary is that idea). The photographer was telling us of the strict guidelines for these photos. Not too near, not too far, both ears and eyebrows visible etc. "but of course" he went "those islams can have their scarf". "We wouldn't dare to go in their mosques with our dirty shoes in Turkey would we, but they can have their scarfs in the photo, I tell you". Upon our raised eyebrows he continued "but I'm not a racist, far from it" and told us of how he passed an alcohol test once when he was completely drunk.
How I wish I had the guts to tell him, "listen, as far as I'm concerned you're a racist, bigoted, prejudiced bastard. I remember a similar rant from you when I was here for the photo for my driving license. I'm here because you're the only decent photographer I know of in this town, if I knew of another one, I'd never set foot in this shop again, now get on with it so I don't have to see your face one minute longer than necessary." How I wish...

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It's the season to be jolly

Please tell me if this is recognisable...

At work there's a list of all the organisations they've sent Christmas cards to.
When a card from one of those organisations arrives over the holidays we're to put an X next to the name of the organisation.
If a card arrives from an organisation we've not sent anything to, we're to send one back from the "spare" pile of cards and we're to add the address to the list for next year.

How spontaneous!

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Encounters of the bizarre kind

Outside the bank this morning (11-ish) an old lady with glasses (like Professor Trelawney) shouts at me...

She: "drivers licenses!"
Me: "huh?"
She: "drivers licenses! I'm talking Flemish aren't I!"
Me: "Drivers licenses?"
She: "The minute they've got them, they don't care about anything anymore!"

And off she went, with hatred in her eyes...

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Mystery

Could someone please tell me why all three of our cats are currently eating our fake Christmas tree?

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on "Have I got news for you"

"Popeye recently featured in an add that showed him having a gay affair with his arch rival Bluto. This caused quite a bit of controversy. With his bulging muscles, pipe smoking and tattoo, most people had him down as a lesbian."

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Go Pigi Go

Uren Dagen Nichten 32 is online.

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Rien ne va plus!

I will be wrapping up my overseas Christmas presents in a minute.
Then I'll put them in their envelopes to send them off tomorrow or early next week. Those of you who didn't get around to sending me their wishlist are out of luck and will have to make do with what I like. Muhahaha!

Christmas presents are my downfall.
I find it terribly important to show people they mean a lot to me by giving them a nice gift. I detest these kinds of "pre-wrapped" supermarket ideas. I want to find something fun, something fitting.
I never succeed.
Because I have to balance between two extremes: "going bankrupt and giving people what I really really want to give them" or "giving people something nice, while being able to buy food the next few months".
I have to go for the last option.
Yep, I'm aware I'm neurotic and think about these things too much.
I love giving presents, I do. I just wish I had all the cash in the world to be able to give people what I really want to give them. (And don't even start about the psychopathology of people like me, who stress over "the perfect present", we're saving that for "PsychoPiglet: the Website".)

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blurgh

I remember being very enthusiastic about my First Traffic Jam somewhere this summer. It wasn't even a real traffic jam, as it only lasted a few minutes. This morning I was stuck for over half an hour on 5 kilometres. Road works. And an accident in the traffic jam.
How on earth will I get to work tomorrow morning without getting up at 6? (there is no way I'm getting up at six!)

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Of chocolate and a nervous breakdown

Sinterklaas ("Sint Nicolas", to anyone who's not Belgian or Dutch. It's my belief you made the poor man fat, turned him into "Father Christmas" and forced him to stay in the country till December 25th) brought me a whole lot of chocolate.
The poor man obviously didn't know where exactly to find me (he IS getting old, after all) because he delivered choccies at my parents' place, at the girlfriend's workplace and in my workplace as well. That's three packages of chocolate.
Well, he may not know the place, he sure knows the quantity!

I've decided I want a Christmas tree.
A real-looking fake one, with lights.
Unfortunately, after braving to look at my netbanking statistics, I've noticed we're already virtually broke. After only one month of living together! Aack!
I shall not panic.
I shall not panic.
PANIC!

*breathes in and out*
I'm ok again, really.

And I still need to send all my christmas cards and presents. Including the ones abroad. Ah bugger.

You know, I think this PsychoPiglet site might not be a bad idea after all. I could use some counseling!

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Help!

La Merlina and I are nearly dead.
Gassed in our own homes.
Our kitty Soes. Only about 1.5 kg (estimate) has just been to the kitty litter and by god... the smell is overwhelming.

it's disgusting.

That is all.

You see, how clever my blog really is.

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Through the sweetie

You Are a Pundit Blogger!

Your blog is smart, insightful, and always a quality read. Truly appreciated by many, surpassed by only a few.

What kind of blogger are you?

well of course I am. *cough*

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THE SECOND SERIES OF LITTLE BRITAIN STARTS ON BBC ONE TONIGHT!

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piglet is a family-apart-tearing bitch

I was in juvinile court today.
Not an experience I'm likely to forget soon.
In the hallway (in front of the judge's chambers) the attorney (DA? Just parafrasing from American detective series, what do you call it in Britain? Overhere "de procureur") is lecturing a 16-year-old on his drug habits. Two cops bring a handcuffed kid (16?) in, he's wearing a Snoop Dogg t-shirt. The social worker from the court tells me he 's from the brand-new juvinile detention center they've built in Keerbergen. Nice.

Finally, we're inside and we state our case. This family where I can hardly get access, unstable home life et cetera et cetera. But there's always food, there's clothes, the mother loves her kids, in fact they're smothered, which is the problem. We've not said half the things we want to say or the judge turns to the DA and his clerk and makes a decision.
I hope he'll give them a chance to state their story.

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History of the erm... poofs

I could bitch about the underrepresentation of women in "de Historie van de Holebi", but I won't.
Because it's obvious that lesbians just didn't exist in the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. (Apart from Anke Hintjes, obviously) Actually, I think women didn't even exist then. How else can we explain the fact that people always research and document male homosexuality, but the female variation? Oh no... that would be too complicated.

Still. It was a good program (despite my feminist ranting, which is not aimed at the program, but at society in general).
Quite shocking to see how we (the gay "world") still hold the same bloody discussions as we did 30 years ago. Decent homosexuals (more decent than heterosexuals) or queers with feathers in their thongs. The question of marriage that was only just realised when, 1998? 1999? Adoptive rights? Still no chance. An official memorial service for the gays who died in Breendonk (concentration camp). Only this year.
Scary.

And we saw Dimitri on telly. Whiii.

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I'm not?

Scenes from a family

13-year-old: "Hey, don't show Piglet my mobile!"
Mum: "it's got a naked woman as background, see..."
13-year-old: "Mum! What did you do that for?! She's not a dyke you know!"

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"It's a tits and ass world, you gotta be prepared"



Until it's over...

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