holiday?

I had a bad dream last night. About work. The person I'm replacing was back and was bullying me. Mocking the crappy work I'd done. The others were standing by and letting her.
Does this mean I'm over-stressed?
Hang on, I'm the psychologist, I should know the answer to that...
The person I'm replacing comes out of sickleave in September. She'll take up her holidays then, and returns in October to work part-time for some six months (if the Board approves). I'm meant to work the other part-time from Oct to March. And the Big Boss has said he'll try and scrape some more hours together to add to them.
Then there is also the issue that if I'm unemployed after working part-time for a while, I'll hardly get any money on the dole, since the benefits you get are calculated on the wages of your last four months.
But it's better than nothing, right? Long live experience...

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Wijze raad

ge lat u best nie gaon an decadent exces
da kundju nie permitteern zonder nationaal succes.


Tis mo daj 't wit.
(via 't Hof van Commerce)

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World views

How refreshing it is to come across "newspapers" from abroad now and again. Surely the UK houses many an intelligent human, and being the country where the latest European terrorist attacks took place ("European", because there are new attacks every single bloody day, we just don't give a toss if it's in the Middle East)
you can surely expect an objective, thought-through report from them. Right?




No. I guess not.
I'm willing to bet this is one of those Page 3-rags that actually sells millions.
So it's not just a Belgian disease after all... ignorance.

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That thing

You might have gathered my Darling has a new camera. The way she raves about it I'd be surprised if -apart from snapping pics- it can't run a bath, light candles and speak fluent Finnish.
She's been photographing any- and everything in the house, including me (in bed this morning, in front of the bathroom mirror, my arse, posing on the sofa), the cats and my toothbrush. My toothbrush, not even hers. Thank god we don't have kids! (We're off to the zoo tomorrow. I think she'll scare the animals)

So yesterday, after passing the "photography shop" time and time again, we bit the bullet, headed indoors and the sweetie pointed at her heart's desire. No, it wasn't me. I'm not a Sony. A bill was made up and the photography man notices she's already in the system (her previous camera was also from there). What camera did she get then, he asks, "oh hang on, it's a Caplio R1 or R2", "R1" the girlfriend proudly states. "Yes, I remember you now" Camera-fetish man says "you knew exactly which camera you wanted".

He recognised her when he remembers her last camera.
Now that's craftsmanship!

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Pet Shop Boys shock!



In a complete shock to the whole world, Chris Lowe just "officially" came out.
In German though, so I'm not sure if that counts.

Who would have thought!?

(to be honest, I am squeeing a little though)
(*squee*)

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Rescue me

I dreamt I was back in secondary school. We had our exam for Dutch and I'd forgotten to do the reading. Moreover I didn't even have the book I needed with me. My teacher was not impressed. There was an oral exam that included reading out the lottery numbers to grade your pronounciation. The exam finished and I'd barely answered half the questions. Woke up feeling crap. Dreams like this completely freak me out.

I'll chalk it up to holiday-stress. I'm still recovering from not having to go to work for the next two weeks. And perhaps not much longer, since the person I'm replacing is thinking about coming back in September.
So much to do these two weeks. The girlfriend is obsessed with booking a trip someplace (and getting herself a new camera). We want to go to the zoo (I haven't been since I was 12 I think) and today it's boring grocery shopping time. I can barely hold in my enthusiasm for the latter!

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Fooled again

I guess I might have to revise my "there ain't no safer place to visit than the one terrorists just got"-theory. What the fuck is going on in London? I don't get it at all.
Perhaps they were all mightily pissed off that no one was scared of them.
Oops.

And then you read this: "I saw an Asian guy run onto the train hotly pursued by three plain-clothes police officers.

"One of them was carrying a black handgun - it looked like an automatic - they pushed him to the floor, bundled on top of him and unloaded five shots into him.

"I saw the gun being fired five times into the guy - he's dead."

From the BBC news-site. Erm, so if this report is accurate they already had the guy and then shot him...? Unless they were worried he was going to blow himself up right there, it seems a little... excessive.
I'm sure glad I'm not an Asian man living in the UK right now...

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't hof

't Hof van commerce rockt de natie zonder totetrekkerie!
En er is teveel volk op de Gentse Feesten.
That is all.

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Of buns and cancer

No, these are not *my* delectable buns. I would never wear a G-string. -Or a thong. Whatever the difference may be.- But the buns do serve a purpose in this post. They're to illustrate my lament at not becoming tanned. Particularly not in the leg-area. One goes to the seaside, expecting to be burnt to a crisp, but then turning the vicious red in a non-cancerous tan. Right? Not for me, no. The only parts of me that do tan are my back and my arms. (as rather shamefully illustrated in this post of The Girlfriend's). The arms I can understand, since they're often sleevelessly exposed to the sun. But the back? The only possible explanation is that it's stolen all the pigment cells that should've been in my legs...

What good's a tanned back going to do me?
Tsk.

Oh.
And my colleague was wearing white socks to work today.
I may have nightmares.

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Glurble?

I'm hyper.
I'm more hyper than a pack of bunnies let loose on a carrot.
I'm worse than LittleMoose were she to see Ant and Dec at it in her very own bedroom.
I'm exhausted but I can't sleep anymore.
I was up till 2am as The Girlfriend and I were stalking She Who Has The Book (or Madscot, as we also call her).

I can just imagine the scene: OH and Madscot in the car.
OH: "aaaaaaack, that thing is blinking again! It's making noise!"
Madscot *flicking through the pages of HBP, trying to find out if that spoiler is true*: "Darling, it's just a text message. Oh no, the belgians are hyper. They're stalking us."
(all of this in a sexy Scottish accent of course)

So yeah. I think it's time for me to hit the shower, put on some clothes, and find me that damn book.

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And now I'm ready for the new book

You know, if you ingore CAPSLOCK!Harry OoTP isn't half bad.
Apart from the last 100 pages. Some stuff I'm sure was answered/said at some point or other, but I forgot...

1. Why is Harry considered a half-blood when his parents were a wizard and a witch? How many generations do you need? Or was JK smoking something again?

2. "I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than for my plan, more for your life than for the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act." (from Dumbledore's mind-numbing speech at the end of the book)
Thank god we have Severus eh. Thank you.

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Karma

Remember how proud I was of being cool?
The inevitable has happened though.
Those bloody cool CDs broke my car-cd player!
How long have I had it for? Two months? Aaargh!!! Bastards! Bastards!
(And no, Le Feux, I didn't play mp3-Cds on it... )

That's what my being cool does to me. It was fine when I just listened to Pet Shop Boys...

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Attention please


To all the elderly, buff or scrawny gentlemen who enjoy their bit of "pretend-race" cycling. Yes, you! What I'm about to say is very important: wearing a tight outfit and dropping your arse on a thin-bike-frame does not mean you're in the Tour de France.
I'm sorry, but it just doesn't.
For one thing, I'm pretty sure you don't pee while cycling.
Well, there you have it.

You're not a car either.
A car has four wheels. You still have only two.
There are other differences as well, but I wouldn't want to make it too complicated.

Having said this, I would appreciate it if you would ride your bloody wannabe-race-bikes in your trendy fluorescent spandex outfits, on the fucking bicycle lane and NOT on the road.
Especially not when I'm driving behind you, resisting the urge to bloody well push you there.

Thank you.
That will be all.

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functioning

My sweetie is watching mind-numbing spirit-crushing (smoochies to whoever gets the reference) teen-tv-sitcoms, but that's allowed since she's feeling sick.

Meanwhile I had the first ever "chat about my functioning" at work (I have no idea what else to call it in English) with the cute gay supervisor-type-bloke. He was wearing something sleeveless. It was very hard to concentrate. Or form sentences. Glurble. I think we got on ok. Apparently I still need to quit the whole "invisible me" thing. You know, the thing where you let people walk all over you because you don't think you're important? Yep, that. And he said something else I've had teachers say about me since I was in primary school, but I can't remember what... he was sleeveless...

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recycling October 2003

In the light that three suspected suicide bombers of London's blasts were born and raised second-generation Brits, I feel the need to get out my White Teeth (Zadie Smith)-quote generator again:

I am from the Kilburn branch of the Keepers of the Eternal and Victorious Islamic Nation" said Hifan proudly.
"Keepers of the Eternal and Victorious Islamic Nation repeated Millat, impressed. "That's a wicked name. It's got a wicked Kung-fu kick-arse sound to it."
Irie frowned. "K E V I N"?
"We are aware", said Hifan solemnly, "that we have an acronym problem".

Read it. Read it. Read it.

I'm also thinking, upon hearing all the generalising crap out there... since the three suspects were men... perhaps we should just chuck all men out of our countries...! Down with the left-winged mollycoddling! Hard action now!

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I'm so cool.

Seriously, I'm so cool it's scaring me.
I've been listening to cool music in the car all week : Gorillaz, 't Hof van Commerce, my god, I'm even impressing myself!

It's scary.
I think it might be stress. I need a vacation before I start dressing trendily as well!

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Dear Filou and Friends-catalogue people,

for I think the fourth time in my car-with-radio-career it's time for your commercial. Your commercial, with the kids singing off-key, pretending to be funny, one of them with a stuffed nose, the other "laughing", is probably the most annoying thing I've heard in my life -not counting the HEBBES-ad or any song by Belle Perez-.
If I hear it one more time I fear I might commit a murder.
I will plead insanity and sue your arses off.
Just so you know.

Yours sincerely,

Piglet Wildebeest.

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Order of the Phoenix

I'm plowing my way through Order of the Phoenix. The things one does for fandom eh. I'm currently at page 418, and the book seems to become slightly better than I remembered, or judged from the first 100 pages. Harry's still VERY ANGRY AND MISUNDERSTOOD OMG, but after 400 pages you're kinda numb to that.
Meanwhile the Sweetie is going "Tonks, who's that again?" and "WHAT department of mysteries?" so I'm thinking she might do best to read the book again before... Friday? Saturday? When is it again?
Ah well. If I remember correctly the book comletely loses it during Dumblebutt's obligatory "explanation of the whole book, including his weird behaviour"-speech and of course "The Veil".

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Fabulous

And in reaction to yesterday's news, these hilarious snippets of British reactions to terrorism....
Just a sample?
"The great British Spirit triumphs once again! Take that, Al Quaeda. You tried to spread panic with your terrorist ways, but you hadn't counted on a nation of repressed, stiff-upper-lip Brits who refuse to show unseemly emotion in public!"
- tyrell

or a tad more serious, from Ken Livingston (London Mayor):"I know that you personally do not fear to give your own life in exchange for taking others. That is why you are so dangerous. But I know you do fear that you will fail in your long-term objective to destroy our free society. I can show you why you will fail. In the days that follow, look at our airports, look at our seaports and look at our railway stations. And even after your cowardly attack you will see that people from the rest of Britain, people from around the world will arrive in London to become Londoners, to fulfil their dreams and achieve their potential. They choose to come to London as many have come before because they come to be free. They come to live the life they choose, they come to be themselves. They flee you, because you tell them how they should live."

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So I went looking out today
for the one who got away
Murder walking round the block
ending up in King's Cross
Good luck, bad luck waiting in a line
It takes more than the matter of time

Pet Shop Boys - King's Cross (ca 1987)

I have no words of my own for what those utter utter shits did to my favourite city. Bastards...

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Work was exciting today

The phonelines broke down at 3pm!

That was all.

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The cats are horny, part 526

My female cats are once again horny as hell. This time however, there's none of the suggestive crawling towards our tomcat, there's no "stroke my belly, lower... lower", there's just an awful lot of... licking. Soes and Zena, the two girls, are comforting each other in these difficult times. Oh, Kiwi tries to join in, biting the girls' necks and climbing on top of them. But then he stops and looks around with an air of "my turn now, my turn now". Meanwhile the ladies are making happy sounds, "washing" each other all over and playfully biting each other's necks. It's a right orgy here.

It seems the opponents of gay adoption were right after all. Dyke parents have a way of making their kids cats gay...

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We're flooded! We're flooded!
Well, not us as such, though there is a tiny bit of water in the basement (which I suspect comes from our neighbours), but my "city". is. As I tried to get home through a million-and-one detours I noticed rather a few streets looking pretty... blank. My inner disaster tourist was thrilled with this as I stared and stared at the water (like a true disaster tourist my inner voices were also contemplating the annoyance the inhabitants must feel to have their gardens and homes flooded. I'm not completely heartless after all. Not completely.)

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QUE?

wat zegt ie nu eigenlijk? Als ik een kind krijg dan mag mijn vrienin "ouderlijke rechten" hebben? Of telt dit alleen voor flikkers en potten die nu al kinderen hebben en moeten we ons dus haasten? En hoe is dit verschillend van adoptie? Wat willen ze nu eigenlijk zeggen? En wat voor een zielig schouwspel is dit nu weer? Een typisch Tsjeven-en-MR voorstel van "niet willen maar doen alsof om toch maar iedereen tevreden te stellen". Bullshit.

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you've got to love them

And in our series of "rather too cynical" my very own dear Pet Shop Boys apparently performed "Opportunities" at their Live 8 concert in Moscow.
The lyrics? 'I've got the brains, you've got the looks, let's make lots of money"... perhaps not the best song to sing in a protest against poverty.

Go Roger Federer for an excellent match at Wimbledon. Andy Roddick scared me a little when he went "perhaps I should punch him" when asked what he could have done to have won. He sounded bloody serious. And Monsieur Federer when told "when we think you can't get any better, you still get better" went "yes, I know". Fabulous. I need to find me some Roger Federer slash.

I'm also considering whether or not to re-read Order of the Phoenix before the new Harry Potter book comes out. I've got to page 40-something so far and ... blurgh. It does nothing for me. Perhaps I should just hope the new book is better than OotP and that JKR once again forgets all her backstory and contradicts all her storylines.

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serial killers

I love my cats, I really do, but they're murderers. Mothers still love their kids if they're murderers, don't they. I know I do. I'm not even talking about the flies they kill daily, to be honest I'm rather grateful for that and there is such a thing as "the food chain" (though I doubt flies are on the menu of cats, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it). What amuses me a lot less is their need to kill all our plants.
We've got three plants on bookshelves, too high for them to reach, though we still find them trying to climb the bookcase in order to get to them. We've got a cactus, they even nibble on that. And then there's the sad, poor little sunflower we procured last week... unfortunately it is no more. I forgot to bring it in the house when I let the cats out yesterday. This morning I discovered it lying face-down, its flower ripped off, on the ground. There's soil everywhere. And it's been raining. So now there's mud everywhere.
Rest In Peace little sunflower.

And to think I wanted a big plant for the living room... I dread to think what they'd do to that.

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