And this blog hopefully providing a few wry smiles, with the odd snicker to boot. Terpsichore is the muse of dance, an occupation that is a stranger to Conrad as he would be grateful to only have two left feet.
| Sob! |
'Dog buns*!' swore Conrad. 'I forgot to look at how the Bolton Atlantic Challenge boys were doing.'
'Yeah, Dad!' snarked Sally. 'They might be abducted by Arctic seals.'
She got the greasy eyeball for that, oh yes.
'The Talisker Whisky ATLANTIC Challenge goes nowhere near the Arctic, Sally.'
Shrug.
'Atlantic seals, then.'
'The rowers would beat them off with their oars.'
'Ha, no! Everyone knows being in the sea makes you immune to oars.'
At this point the argument ceased. You can't argue with the demented.
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| Eels. Close enough |
The tone-deaf and the tasteless may want to skip these pearls of poison wit
Eels
The band, not the fish. For this week the Eels album "Shootenanny" is my Car CD. That is, a CD I intend to give a second chance by playing it non-stop for a couple of weeks, to see if my opinion of it changes.
Well, it's a bit of a curate's egg. Some filler, some okay stuff and some corking classic songs. The first three songs are forgettable, then comes "Love of the Loveless" which is quite good, then we dip with "Dirty Girl", back up to quite good with "Agony", and then Mr Everett and clan get their head in the game with "Rock Hard Times", the hilarious stalker song "Restraining Order Blues", the very excellent "Lone Wolf", "Wrong About Bobby" and "Numbered Days", then doing one of Mr. E's trademark gentle-lilting-song-with-horrible-lyrics - "Fashion Awards" and dipping a bit with "Somebody Loves You".
To coin a metaphor, it's a bit like a racehorse that comes out of the gate late, and slow, but who builds up a head of steam and wins the race.
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| The Chet and E. Who's E? It's a Mr. E! |
As I'm sure you know by now, Conrad likes Pink Floyd. He takes a gander over on Youtube every so often to look at the trailer for "Darkside", an entertainment written by Tom Stoppard, based on Dark Side Of The Moon. Herein the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvaSzYcDXFw
It's great to watch but makes absolutely no sense whatsoever!
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| Turbine Head; a disease for our times |
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| Randomly Exploding Jets; not looking for BA sponsorship |
| Look out! Auton! |
| Runway snow clearance gone mad |
A Critic Of The Lyric
I have been listening to some Simon and Garfunkel on Grooveshark, and one song struck me in particular - "The Only Living Boy In New York". The title is also the chorus.
I mean, come on now! There are 8 million people in the Big Apple, of whom 4 million would be male, and allowing a little interpretive judgement, even if only 10% of that total qualify as "boys", that makes the impressive total of 400,000 boys. Not 1.
Unless - my God, that's it! This is a song about zombies! The only "living" boy in New York. Why it all makes sense now. You can just see Paul Simon fighting off the undead hordes by smacking them round the chops with his guitar, garrotting them with his spare strings and using a metronome to decoy them away ...
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| Yes, I know those lyrics are "The Sound Of Silence" but come on, a picture of S & G as zombies! |
MUSIC INTERREGNUM IS OVER YOU MAY COME OUT FROM BEHIND THE SOFA
Mike's Music
No, come back, this is only peripherally about music!
Mike, stout fella, checked out BOOJUM! yesterday and declared that he liked it. He also complained about sitting next to the atrium in our building, since this put him within earshot of the promotions stand at the bottom of the atrium, giving out free biscuits and playing what Mike described as "an hideous parody of some already-hideous current pop song", and playing it in a loop. He fled to the kitchen and fell in with Conrad, who remained blithely unaware of any such sonic earwormery.
'It's my age,' I explained. 'Old gets like me can't hear high-pitched noises.' Which means I probably wont hear him screaming when his reason gives way.
| Mike liked to hang around in bars ... |
I believe I've mentioned this a few times in the blog already. Simply put, the challenge is to row across the mid-Atlantic from the Canary Islands to Antigua in the Caribbean.
I know, I know, bloody lightweights! Rowing across the shortest bit, only 3,000 nautical miles!
Several boats have already landed, with the one I was watching (Bolton Atlantic Challenge) due to hit terra firma within the next few days. Reading the News section of the TWAC website invokes a sense of awe and wonder. These rowers are either mad, brave or both at once!
http://www.taliskerwhiskyatlanticchallenge.com/fleet-update-day-56/
If your conscience is troubling you about anything, salve it by chucking some money at these madmen.
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| Just another day of the TWAC |
So - Cuddly Tanks?
No, I'm not raving, it's nine o'clock and I've got other things to do. Brass-hand polishing, for example. So, I thought I'd combine the "cute" end article with the "Steel beast of mass destruction" article, and hence we have:
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| Hmmm. I don't know. Pink? Iron grey would have been better. |
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