Hey, Barbecutie

Archive for February 2010

#1
When enjoying the view from Embankment bridge on a crisp Autumn eve.

HIM: Hi. Ahem, cough, excuse me.
ME: Did you just say “cough”?
HIM: Oh…yes. I think so. Sorry. I was trying to get your attention.
ME: Okay.
HIM: So how are things with you.
ME: Oh. Fine. You know.
HIM: That’s good. That’s good… You don’t remember me, do you?
ME: Have we met?
HIM: I think so. Murial’s party, right? I’m Michael. Michael Stipe.
ME: I don’t know anyone called Mural.
HIM: Murial.
ME: Yeah, well. Still.
HIM: Okay. Are you sure? It’s just…you look a lot like him/
ME: I’m a woman.
HIM: I don’t like to make assumptions.
ME: I think you have me confused with someone else.
HIM: Okay. Sorry. Oh, hey, where’d you get that ice cream?
ME: There’s a stall just along there.
HIM: Is it vegan?
ME: I don’t think so.
HIM: Oh. Okay.

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Here is the NEST account of the zine fair. It was a very lovely day. The pictures prove it. Photographic evidence prove most things.

green dress
For example, I can photobomb like wow and I have a gigantic mouth.

More importantly, let us celebrate the fair’s success with some music of the future, courtesy of Anthony Carmichael on science programme Look Around You.

Okay, it’s not my birthday, but my point stands: there is one desire that lies dearest in my shrivelled little black heart. I would like to call a moratorium on the word “unputdownable”.

Working as a file jockey in the publishing industry, I see this word a lot. It makes me want to punch myself in my damn head. Some investigation, undertaken while choking back bile at the mere echo of syllables in my head, reveals that the generally cited first occurence of unputdownable* was in a letter by none other than Raymond Chandler. Nice work, Chandler. No amount of femmes with shooters can compensate for the blight which you have brought onto the land.

Do you think I could take Raymond Chandler in a fight? I always assumed he was tough as fuck but the proliferation of the word “lonely” on his wikipedia page makes me think I might have a fair chance of beating him. All of this is irrelevant, of course, as cosmic justice has been served and he died before I could get at him for his linguistic hijinks.

winsome
This man is dead.

*an amalgamation of perfectly cromulent words when a whole sentence would have done

Zine fair was a lovely success and much fun. People are very talented and it’s lovely to see. Also, I had a Kinder egg. Nice. A more thorough discussion shall occur at a more reasonable time and date, so until then, please enjoy this trailer for the new Spider-Man film, directed by the big man himself, Wes Anderson:

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Senators on Scooters
US senators Edmund Muskie and Warren G Magnuson on electric-powered scooters.

New comptutor [sic]. New life. Oh, how technology taunts me. Regardless. My brand spanking new access allows me to remind all that the Alternative Press Fair 2010 occurs tomorrow from 12pm at St Aloysius Social Club (best saint since Saint Joseph of Cupertino, who could (drumroll) fly). It shall be fun and larks with me and the girls from Nest.
(Preview of my zine courtesy of the delectable Reena here)

I’m off to watch Moon now, so suck it. Have some Kids In The Hall: