You can't read the same book twice, because you are not the same person and it's not the same errr.... book..... hmmm.
I am re-reading a number of books I have not read for 15 years. Why haven't I re-read them before? (apologies to people who think re-reading books is a waste of time). I am re-reading them because I went to the storage facility (in Basingstoke) and got them out of storage, where they had been languishing and going gently yellow since 1993. The cumulative cost of storing my belongings in the excitingly urban Basingstoke (described in one guidebook as "The Venice of the North") runs into the thousands of pounds.
So, exactly what was in storage? It was like a Blue Peter time capsule except not nearly as fun. There were 30,000,000 books, 1 rotary saw bench and a number of articles of clothing, which I have to say, in the cold light of 2007, looked ghastly. And let's not forget the device to measure the hight of trees and suchlike, complete with nice leather case. And the kilt, the kukri, my collection of movies on VHS ( ah yes...), the half empty bottle of tequila and so on and so forth.
Anyway, I removed a sample of the books and have been re-reading them ever since. Some of them are really not very good now and I am quite shocked to see how my taste has changed over the intervening years.
For everyone who is even vaguely interested (and my dear friend H who is not interested and so charitably referred to me as a liver biopsy, and not in a post-modern way, I might add), here is the top 3 books which have stood the test of time well.
1) The Big Show - Pierre Clostermann
http://www.amazon.com/Big-Show-Greatest-Pilots-Story/dp/0297846191/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1205759567&sr=8-1
2) Journey To The Centre Of The Earth - Richard and Nicholas Crane
http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Centre-Earth-Richard-Crane/dp/0552132128/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1205759762&sr=1-1
3) Radix - A.A. Attanasio
http://www.amazon.com/Radix-Attanasio/dp/0553254065/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1205759859&sr=1-1
I couldn't find any of my Bruce Chatwin books and that's a great shame. He wrote beautifully and I am confident I would enjoy his books today.
Enough of this literary stuff. Anyone want to buy a rotary saw bench?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
A name by any other.....errrr...name
So, I'm a little bit behind the curve here. I only learned about FuBu's last summer through an extremely interesting conversation with a vegan lady (but more on that another time).
I was having a casual conversation with B today, I was trying to work out if her friend, with whom she enjoyed occasional carnal relations was, in fact, a friend or a FuBu. B was saying he was a friend first. I was saying that I thought a FuBu was someone you had gratuitous hot sex with on an occasional basis but, and here's the distinction, you didn't actually have to like.
I mean when you are scuba diving, you have a buddy. You don't have to like them. They are your responsibility and you have to stop them taking off their BCDs and trying to breathe water when the have nitrogen narcosis.
B disagrees. She thinks you have to like your FuBu for them to be a FuBu. Otherwise they are just a GoFu if the sex is good, or presumably a BuFu in which case they don't get asked back for a second go.
Interestingly, the Japanese for Fubu is "secu-frie". This is short hand for "sex friend" for a race of people who like to truncate words and are missing several important english consonants.
A brief sourjon onto the net doesn't show my definition of Fubu. What we get is
As for the second definition, it will never replace FUBAR in my heart.
I was having a casual conversation with B today, I was trying to work out if her friend, with whom she enjoyed occasional carnal relations was, in fact, a friend or a FuBu. B was saying he was a friend first. I was saying that I thought a FuBu was someone you had gratuitous hot sex with on an occasional basis but, and here's the distinction, you didn't actually have to like.
I mean when you are scuba diving, you have a buddy. You don't have to like them. They are your responsibility and you have to stop them taking off their BCDs and trying to breathe water when the have nitrogen narcosis.
B disagrees. She thinks you have to like your FuBu for them to be a FuBu. Otherwise they are just a GoFu if the sex is good, or presumably a BuFu in which case they don't get asked back for a second go.
Interestingly, the Japanese for Fubu is "secu-frie". This is short hand for "sex friend" for a race of people who like to truncate words and are missing several important english consonants.
A brief sourjon onto the net doesn't show my definition of Fubu. What we get is
| Acronym | Definition |
|---|---|
| FUBU | For Us By Us (clothing brand) |
| FUBU | Fouled Up Beyond Understanding (polite form) |
| FUBU | Fouled Up Beyond Use (polite form) |
| FUBU | Fouled Up By User |
As for the second definition, it will never replace FUBAR in my heart.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Beware the lyrics
In the gym, I heard a song a few times. I quite like it and didn't really listen to the lyrics as I was pounding away on the treadmill, feeling unwell.
The song is "It ain't no fun (if the homies can't have none) by Snoop Dogg.
It's an upbeat song with a good hook. The lyrics are all about young ladies, seemingly of a friendly disposition, cars, money and automatic weapons. To my mind the content doesn't really match the music.
Perhaps I'm just being old-fashioned.
Still a good song, though.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=g-W8gPvzEiY&feature=related
& I very much like the related post which I reproduce here (sic).
"Such a refreshing and romantic sonnet for all the rennaissance men and the sentimental sophosticated women they cherish so dearly."
The song is "It ain't no fun (if the homies can't have none) by Snoop Dogg.
It's an upbeat song with a good hook. The lyrics are all about young ladies, seemingly of a friendly disposition, cars, money and automatic weapons. To my mind the content doesn't really match the music.
Perhaps I'm just being old-fashioned.
Still a good song, though.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=g-W8gPvzEiY&feature=related
& I very much like the related post which I reproduce here (sic).
"Such a refreshing and romantic sonnet for all the rennaissance men and the sentimental sophosticated women they cherish so dearly."
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
The importance of being toasty
I have decided that toast is incredibly important.
You can have it dry white (a la Blues Brothers). You can have it just with butter deliciously spread and melted to the four corners of the toast. You can have it with an endless number of toppings, including what has to be the absolute pinnacle of British Cooking, chips! Whoever invented the Chip Buttie was having a very very good day indeed.
Toast is good for chicken sandwiches, hotdogs, steak and you can even eat toast raw (errr, that would seem to be bread).
Toast is fantastic and a man's best friend is obviously his toaster. One wouldn't want a talking toaster like Talkie Toaster from Red Dwarf. There are limits as to how into toast you can be before it becomes unhealthy. But a good toaster is a joy to all and deserves pride of place in anyone's kitchen. Someone I know doesn't really like toast. How do I know? Simple! He keeps his toaster hidden in a cupboard. When you want to use it, you have to take it out of the cupboard, plug it in, use it, clean all the crumbs up and then unplug it and put it back in the cupboard of shame. It almost takes all the fun out of eating toast. And what if there was a toast emergency? Having the toaster in the cupboard could very well endanger somebody's life.
No discussion of toast would be complete without a mention of peanut butter. Just as many people have firm views on which is the tastiest fast food burger, individuals often have a deeply held belief on the issue of crunchy vs smooth peanut butter. Is there a supreme being? Who cares! Which idiot flatmate bought the smooth peanut butter ? An issue worth spending a lifetime on. Peanut butter is the universal food. It goes with everything. Well, maybe not mint sauce or, come to think of it, chewing gum. But apart from that, oh, and brussel sprouts, it's all good.
Coming soon.... an in-depth examination of why crunchy peanut butter was called "whanger" at school. (As in "Which of you pikey b'stards has had the last of the whanger? There's nothing to put on my toast now except brussel sprouts!"
You can have it dry white (a la Blues Brothers). You can have it just with butter deliciously spread and melted to the four corners of the toast. You can have it with an endless number of toppings, including what has to be the absolute pinnacle of British Cooking, chips! Whoever invented the Chip Buttie was having a very very good day indeed.
Toast is good for chicken sandwiches, hotdogs, steak and you can even eat toast raw (errr, that would seem to be bread).
Toast is fantastic and a man's best friend is obviously his toaster. One wouldn't want a talking toaster like Talkie Toaster from Red Dwarf. There are limits as to how into toast you can be before it becomes unhealthy. But a good toaster is a joy to all and deserves pride of place in anyone's kitchen. Someone I know doesn't really like toast. How do I know? Simple! He keeps his toaster hidden in a cupboard. When you want to use it, you have to take it out of the cupboard, plug it in, use it, clean all the crumbs up and then unplug it and put it back in the cupboard of shame. It almost takes all the fun out of eating toast. And what if there was a toast emergency? Having the toaster in the cupboard could very well endanger somebody's life.
No discussion of toast would be complete without a mention of peanut butter. Just as many people have firm views on which is the tastiest fast food burger, individuals often have a deeply held belief on the issue of crunchy vs smooth peanut butter. Is there a supreme being? Who cares! Which idiot flatmate bought the smooth peanut butter ? An issue worth spending a lifetime on. Peanut butter is the universal food. It goes with everything. Well, maybe not mint sauce or, come to think of it, chewing gum. But apart from that, oh, and brussel sprouts, it's all good.
Coming soon.... an in-depth examination of why crunchy peanut butter was called "whanger" at school. (As in "Which of you pikey b'stards has had the last of the whanger? There's nothing to put on my toast now except brussel sprouts!"
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Air on a G string
I was once invited to a "teabag party" by a friend. Once I had reined in my runaway imagination, I actually sought clarity from my friend as to the exact nature of a "teabag party". He told me that all the ladies present would be wearing "teabags". I was somewhat impressed that anyone would be able to make a garment out of teabags and was subsequently quite disappointed when it turned out that the ladies would actually be wearing 't-backs".
Had he said G-string, this would have avoided much confusion. And had he said Thongs, I would have assumed that beach footwear was toe order of the day.
Language is a funny old thing, especially when it's English
Whilst we are on the subject, I am very heartened to see that many modern emancipated women do actually wear insubstantial underwear, notwithstanding the fact that they do not conform to the "FHM's sexiest 100 woman" body type. I think that any evidence that shows a rejection of the unobtainable standard of modern feminine body shapes is fantastic.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Stupid stupid lifts
Or elevators or whatever you would like to call them.
My office building has a set of lifts. Unlike normal lifts, you push the button for the floor you want BEFORE you get into the lift. A little display then tells you which of lifts A,B,C or D will serve you. You then get into the lift and get taken to your floor, one of up to 3 the lift will stop on.
So far, so good, I hear you say. Why the unhappiness? Because occasionally I am allocated, say, lift C. Lift B will come down, disgorge a bunch of happy, smiling, people who haven't had to wait an eternity for a lift, and then go up again. Lift C will then turn up 5 minutes later in a massive sulk, sit at the ground floor for a further 3 minutes and then begrudgingly take me to my floor.
Could I take lift B? Well, yes, if I want to go to a floor other than the one I want. I could then have all the fun of getting out, pushing the button again, being started at by people who know I don't work for their company or have any business on their floor and wait for a further 5 minutes for another lift to turn up.
Whoever designed the lift algorithms for my building is either a) an idiot or b) likes wasting people's time.
Still it's better than walking up 29 flights of stairs.
My office building has a set of lifts. Unlike normal lifts, you push the button for the floor you want BEFORE you get into the lift. A little display then tells you which of lifts A,B,C or D will serve you. You then get into the lift and get taken to your floor, one of up to 3 the lift will stop on.
So far, so good, I hear you say. Why the unhappiness? Because occasionally I am allocated, say, lift C. Lift B will come down, disgorge a bunch of happy, smiling, people who haven't had to wait an eternity for a lift, and then go up again. Lift C will then turn up 5 minutes later in a massive sulk, sit at the ground floor for a further 3 minutes and then begrudgingly take me to my floor.
Could I take lift B? Well, yes, if I want to go to a floor other than the one I want. I could then have all the fun of getting out, pushing the button again, being started at by people who know I don't work for their company or have any business on their floor and wait for a further 5 minutes for another lift to turn up.
Whoever designed the lift algorithms for my building is either a) an idiot or b) likes wasting people's time.
Still it's better than walking up 29 flights of stairs.
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