This Standard Scottish Life

This book was Christmas present from Le Chef.

Slips on Film Critic hat.  

Beware spoilers below.

Went to the cinema.  I am quite the cinematic type person now coz I am being trained at work how to do video-ing and editing and storyboarding and throwing tantrums in a Barbra Streisand stylee.   My favourite thing to do is tantrum throw and edit.  I am hoping to get the the letters B.S.C. (British Society of Cinematographers) after my name.  Oh … eh … I already have those letters after my name. Hmmm.  Aaaaanyyyway, I went to the cinema ….

… to see The Reader.  With Kate Winslet, Ralph (don’t call me Ralph call me Raaaayyffff) Feinnes, Hitler Bruno Gantz and a boy. Well I didn’t go with these people to the cinema obviously, they were in the film.  I was eager to go see this film coz it has Nazis in it.  I do like a Nazi.  Well, not really, of course.  I don’t really like Nazis but I like them in films in the way that I like Daleks, serial killers and zombies.  Must stop now before I put foot any further in mouth.

So …. here it is ….

Synopsis:  don’t shag illiterate Nazis coz it will end in tears and a rope round someone’s neck

Cinematography: oh I seemed to have missed that so busy was I looking at Kate Winslet’s makeup

Characterisation: Miss Winslet played Nazi well (not Oscar nomination worthy though) and got deserved come-uppence.  Mr Feinnes was as pained and painful as ever, Hitler Bruno Gantz didn’t do any shouting and didn’t even have a proper German access (he’s Swiss don’t u know) and the boy was the star of the show.

Was The Guardian review correct?  I think three stars is more like it.

Next week: Slumdog millionnaire ……

Emboldened by several kirs I marched into the skip shop and demanded, Qu’est ce le mot pour ceci?  as I pulled at the waistband of CKs.  Unperturbed by me flashing my pants the assistant said, Les sous vetements.  I am not happy.  Sous vetements is not the word (or two) I am look for.   Sous vetements is surely only used to describe old men’s string vests and long johns?

My French is so poor that I am too scared and embarrassed to enquire further with a French person as to the word I am looking for, so I seek out our friendly Canadian bar man, Jean to ask him the right word.  We like Jean.  He keeps the Happy Hour running beyond Happy Hour for us and is mostly bilingual. 

Girls pants?  Like panties?

Yes, like these.  I flash the CKs again.

He reaches for his iPhone.   We saw him look up French words on his iPhone the other day.  He’ll surely tell me the word.

But oh no.  Jean turns around and asks the other bar staff.  The French bar staff.  No! Don’t ask them.  That’s what I want to avoid.  Asking the French people.

There is some discussion.  

There is some sniggering.

Le string? says the other barman.

No, no, no.  Not Le String.  

I am mortified.  

My face is bright red.  

I am clearly going to have to drop my skiing trousers.

Non. Comme ça.    Demonstrating that my CKs are all encompassing.

Ah … la culotte.

Culotte?

Oui ou le parachute.

Parachute?

More sniggering.

Parachute is the word for big pants for the les grandes femmes.

Other vocabulary learned 

partager – to share.  Useful to know when presented with a HUGE creme brule

casque de ski  - ski helmet.  Useful to have on head when careering downhill avec grandes vitesse.

Wot we spent on buying food:

£0.00 Total so far for Project Frugal £13.17 however Le Chef, who is incapable of advising me in advance if he wants me to prepare delicious, yummy sandwiches no doubt spent extravagant amounts on some dry old bread thing at work.  He will not disclose how much exchanged hands.

Wot we bought:

Wot we ate:

• OJ
• Cappuccino
• porridge
• I had another cappucino with Fraulein Direktor while we discussed very very important work type stuff.  She bought the cappucino, so no cost to me.  And this gave me a cunning idea.  If I can get all my friends to buy me or make me food then Project Frugal will never have any outgoings.  Send food parcels everyone!
• My lunch was a jamon (that’s Spanish for jam eh .. I mean ham), cheese and lettuce sandwich and three little tomatoes.  My sandwich was prepared by my own fair paw.  Le Chef – gawd only knows what he had or how much it cost.  Harumph!
• green tea
• water and lots of it due to furious spin class with Captain Awesome
• another Le Chef prepared culinary delight of curious origin twas served ce soir.  It was quite good.  It looked like it had beans and potatoes and carrots in it.  It perhaps even had parsnips in there too. I thought my tea lacked a certain something so I stirred in mango chutney which as everyone knows is just middle class tomato ketchup.  The meal’s tastiness improved somewhat in a strange exotic fruit way.  I recommend putting mango chutney on everything.
  • Uninteresting factoid: the French regard the parsnip with disdain.  They only feed it to their horses.  A terribly waste I say, Terrible waste.  And I thought they knew something about food.
• Le Chef is still stuffing himself with Kershy Hisses.  They were a food parcel from Umerica so no purchase necessary.

Reflections on frugality

I am so very very sick of the TV. I am sick of shouting at the BBC news everyday. It’s SHOITE. I am sick of shouting at the TV schedule full of shocking, brain rotting drivel.  I am tuning into YouTube permanently where there is superior quality programming.

Beware you may find these vids as offensive as Strictly Come Dancing and there’s some sweary swearyness in the second one.

I kissed a girl pig and I liked it.

Gordon Broon’s doonfa’

Is it a monster ? Is it a MONSTER ?

I just thought I’d drop that in. It’s my new fav tune on me iPod.

And I think it is! A monster. If you are called John you should be worried! Got a little tummy ache Hotboy ?

… I have got ra plague. I think I caught it off Ra Bliss Blog. I didn’t know that germs could traverse the internet highway. My plague is of the green gunk, uncontrollable sneezing, snuffling and coffing type. I begged off work this morning and retired to my bed of used and unused tissues and slept a blissful sleep (see Hotboy Ra Flatheids can do Ra bliss but only when infected) until I was rudely awoken by my rumbling stomach at 2pm!

Due to Ra plague I have missed Marc Almond but I sent Gussie and Roderick to check that he was still being glum and wearing black. In the meantime I have been watching people swimming in mud and rubbish bands at Glastonbury. Kasabian are particularly rubbish but not as rubbish as The Fratellis, not even their Scottishness can save them from their rubbishness. And will someone give that wee boy frae the Arctic Monkeys a pie or a biscuit or summat, he looks starved. In between mud and rubbish I bought tickets to see the epic Music in 12 parts by the not at all rubbish, in fact quite fab Philip Glass. (I bet that he looks good on the dance floor!)

Hmmm … maybe I caught ra plague off of the meece. (PS I have deployed the ultra sound screechy things and the meece have been absent for some time now)

… hold on to that feeling“. Is what me and the waterproof MacBook were singing in the bath while watch an evaluation copy of the final episode of De Sopranos.  When y’all catch up wiff me you’ll get it.

So, there I am singing along to a Journey song wondering how it is I know all the words.  And then I remember I had a pal, Iain, at college who liked such music (actually, Iain liked all music) but I’m pretty sure it’s his fault that I can confidently belt out power ballads.  Maybe he was trying to save me from the student moping of The Smiths, The Cure and REM.

I feel a poodle perm coming on!

…. terrible, terrible.  Strange and bizarre visualisations.  Very alarming.  Possible due to:

• sniffing chlorine gas
• watching a film about the Stasi
• watching people take LSD (on the TV I hasten to add)
• listening to The Velvet Underground

When I was 13 I was obsessed with James Herbert books, netball, kissing boys, dungarees and …. eh … Rush. Tonite while footering around on Demonoid I thought I’d download an evaluation copy of Rush’s timeless classic 2112 (I found the LP in my brother’s room along with Quark, Strangeness and Charm and Mother Focus).

Hmmm …..having listened to 2112 tonight I kinda get why I loved it so much. It’s tuneful. It’s rock. They play their instruments well. They used lots of technology. But it’s quite …. well … very, very … it’s infact ….. monsterous Cheese! And another thing …. listening to Rush lead me to waste my time reading Ayn Rand’s Anthem and to hide in my bedroom practicing furiously on my guitar till I could play the opening to The Trees flawlessly with neither flair nor passion.

Fortunately I was soon to rescued from Rush by punk (TY Siouxsee and Joe) and teenage fumblings.

….. we have assumed control

….. We Have Assumed Control

… WE HAVE ASSUMED CONTROL

Where’s that Nelly Furtado song that I like ?