So - back to the non sequiteurs, random thought processes, bad puns and sloppy picture captions.
What's that? You want more of the Eels gig? And photographic evidence that the Daughters of Davis are young and attractive?
Well, Conrad left after the second encore and so missed E climbing up the gigantic Bridgewater Hall organ and playing the chords from "Flyswatter" whilst dressed as a Phantom of the Opera. Youtube link here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTKN8QdTlXY
As for the "DoD", as they abbreviate themselves:
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| Yes, they live and travel in a camper van. |
No! Not an exotic dish from the Balkans featuring mutton slow-cooked on a bed of onions in a red wine sauce.
Again, just one of those things that magically pop up in Conrad's mind. Basil II, to distinguish him from his celestial ancestor Basil I, was an 11th Century Emperor of Byzantium, and "Bulgarokontos" was his nickname, meaning - er - if you are Bulgarian you might want to skip the next bit - "The Bulgar Killer". Although skilled at the strong-arm stuff - he did, after all, do-in the Bulgarians as a threat to the empire - he was also an able politician and administrator. Remember that painting Conrad threw in last week about the Roman Emperor Honorius? Well Basil II was the complete opposite of Honorius.
And - well, that's all for Basil.
| Basil Vulgarokontos. Close enough |
As evidenced by yesterdays photos, Conrad baked Yorkshire Brack and Lemon & Coconut cake as a commission for Dom.
Well, did they go down well or what! People lavished praise on the L & C and both it and the Brack disappeared with alacrity. There is a technical reason for this, if <Mister Hand warns anyone with a low boredom threshold to move on rapidly elsewhere> you care to know. You do care? O thankyou! Conrad was mixing up the batter for the L&C whilst the Brack was baking, so he couldn't put the L&C in to bake until the Brack was done. This meant keeping the batter whisked every 5 minutes, as you don't want to lose the air in the mix by letting it stand. This went on for ages, and when it came to placing the coconut topping Conrad took ages to dot lots of little bits across the batter, so they all melted into one when baked.
A bit of a faff, and it kept Conrad in the kitchen until 9 o'clock, but when the ganterpies' appreciative praise kept ringing in his ears - ah, satisfaction!
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| Action angled for greater impact. Cakes, after all, are not intrinsically dramatic. |
You will - of course - remember this as Conrad's long-in-the-writing zombie novel. Strictly speaking, "manuscript"; it's not a novel until it gets published. Well, there are only two chapters left to write, whoo, go Conrad!
Except that this will be the first draft, and Conrad will need to go back and revise it somewhat. Tweaks here and there, and a bit more exposition, with a couple of small insertions to add, then to probably re-allocate the chapters so that they correspond one to a month rather than the arbitrary ten chapters per year.
HEY! Wake up!
Sheesh.
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| Privates McConnell and Trimble spot a revenant horde and inform using hand gestures |
This volume, by Jon Latimer, happens to recount a tale of a fake German airstrip created in Holland, with wooden aircraft, wooden vehicles, wooden buildings and wooden woods. The sly British sent over a single RAF bomber that dropped a wooden bomb on the fake site. Hilarious, what!
Except that Conrad remembers reading about a fake British airstrip created during the Blitz, with fake buildings, face vehicles, etcetera, upon which the sly Germans sent over a single Luftwaffe bomber that dropped a wooden bomb on the fake site.
Deja vu? Or is this an urban legend? Conrad may need to dig further.
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| No, they're not on fire. They're laying a smoke-screen. Deceptive, eh? |
The Grim Visage
At Conrad's still un-named employer, a promotional team from Pepsi arrived in the atrium. It was possible for staff to go and get their face immortalised on a bottle.
Naturally, Conrad had to get his weaselly* features photographed and labelled, with a face that would crack granite and make grown men need hankies.
That's Quite Enough Of That!
The "that" in question is a fat ugly Irish comic in drag, who adopts the name "Mrs Brown", as seen on the side of buses advertising some filmic farrago called "Mrs Browns Boys D Movie".
Conrad has a rating for media personalities who annoy him, rated in Alan-Carr's. Russell Brand, for example, scores Five Alan-Carrs. Graham Norton scores Three. David Beckham scores only One Alan-Carr but his wife scores Six. Mrs Brown, I award you Three Alan-Carr stars, now go away. Conrad has spoken.
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| It's brown and static - yet still better than the film. |
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