And ...

... Christmas is a wrap!

We had fun, though ... Food and drink and presents and Kamiel. I like Christmas. I look forward to it. From about october on, actually ... One of those things. It's one of those annual things we hold dear even if I'm currently not affiliated with any imaginary friend associated with the birth of the Christ. My christmasses are a pagan affair this time with heathen scandinavian food, or something.

Currently back at work. Funny how the trains are totally deserted these days. It's like, a holiday, or something.

Through all the preperations and eating and general lack of doing anything really active this week (although Aikido went on, business as usual ... go, Chris, go!) I have to say that I'm now relatively exhausted. But I've got a thing again tomorrow. It's going to be ... a thing. What do you do? It's family.

I hope to leave 2008 with as many appandages and sensory tools as I went in to it. However, should the worst come to happen I have already discussed the merrits of glass eyes with Süüsje. I sincerely hope it doesn't get to that stage, though. It must have been a weird discussion to have. It made sense to me, at least, but, to be honest, I was having a bit of a headache at the time. My point was that I really don't see the point of replacing an eye you lost with a duplicate of the aforementioned eye. It would be fake and would only serve to remind me of what I would have lost. I think I'd go for an unconventional choice., Do something really insane, like a monochrome glass ball, in stead of a fake eye. The argument that it might be less upsetting to society if you would take the perfect replica I don't find very convincing. In the end it's my face. Society can go fuck itself.

Well, maybe an eye patch if the situation really demands it.

Also: Patriots, 11-5, no play off season. Chargers, 8-8, play off season! There is no justice.

That said: the teams I like in the play offs are: Chargers (grumble) but I want to see those two running backs finally become great. Ravens ... because they're called Ravens. Falcons ... because they're called Falcons. Eagles because they handed the Cowboys their hats, which was fun. For me. Not for the Cowboys. Vikings. Because they're called ... and because I like watching Adran Peterson.

So, that said ... some bloody Manning will probably win in the end.

Also, the Steelers have a nice coach, he reminds me of Foreman from House, M.D. I just don't like the Steelers much. Hines Ward broke someone's jaw and sort of laughed it off. Yukkie.

Also, also, ... I really don't like the NY Giants'coach. That man reminds me of the old cliché of the grumpy old man with a shotgun that threatens people so that they will get off his lawn. Grumpy person. That he got a loss at the hands of the Vikings was ... good.

Oh ... I almost forgot: Doctor Who on the 1st! Wasn't Tennant dreamy?!?! A clever story and with clever twists and a lot of cyberpunk stuff thrown in for fun. I liked it. My girl thinks that lately the christmas specials are too serious and not laugh-out-loud funny. But her frame of reference was the very first one with the introduction of the skinny boy in a suit, and let's face it, that was hilarious. Fast-paced, ridiculous dialogue, Lion King, blood control, over the top swordfight ... fantastic! Hard to top that. But this was a classic Doctor Who affair and one well appreciated. Whatever the girlfriend&critic say ...

Very curious as to what the future brings for the franchise. Doctor Who and The Planet of the Dead. Scary ...


We ...

... wish you a merry Christmas and here is a picture of a bunny with huge balls.


For ...

... the first time in ages a post from the trenches, that is, my 'work'.

Once again the services I provide for this institue have gone unappreciated by it. The annual christmas gifts thing was not bestowed upon me. Apparently, that is too expensive. The present as such is crap, but the appreciation would be nice. Instead I was sitting here with three colleagues, 1 regular, two others, like me, hired from elsewhere. The gentleman giving out the presents enters, gives the regular employee her gift, states: 'well ... there are no others of your team here' and proceeds to leave ...

Even our presence here is denied.

Luckily, my own boss, Karin, came almost instantaneously to the door bearing gifts of champagne and mugs. Just to let us know that we too are loved.

What a set of wankers here. I feel it ... unwise to reveal some of the things that go on here but let me tell you: investing in a small gift for borrowed personel would be the least of the waste around here.


With my direct colleagues, however, I have a good contact. Yesterday we went to a nearby museum, which was nice and afterwards we had a high tea. Which was nicer. The museum was the Hermitagein Amsterdam. There are paintings by Casper David Friedrich on loan there. There were some nice pieces there, but all in all, the vast majority of the paintings failed to convince me. Also, there were four rooms in the museum, so, it's currently very small. One room was dedicated to paintings by people before Friedrich, one room was dedicated to paintings by people after him, one room were his own paintings ... and then Fiedrich had a stroke and could no longer make oil paintings so one room is filled with drawings made by him. All in all ... weird. Little Friedrich in a Friedrich show.

Also weird: most people disappeared beneath headphones for an audio tour making discussion about the works mostly impossible and also sort of defeating the idea of doing a team excursion.

The high tea was fun, though. I actually drank tea! Weird ... Loads of nice yummie things ... Unfortunately I got a bit of a headache afterwards so it all ended in misery and non-training but still it was a good day.



... I'm at 'R'. Also, I seem to go to another Amsterdam museum today. I feel so cultural ... of course, as I say this, I'm gearing up to shift Rammstein into iTunes, so I might be the last person to ask anything on the subject of culture.

... I seem to have lost the name of the museum ...

Anyway. That was embarrassing.

Yesterday I witnessed the breakdown of communication between my roommates at work over the purchase of an amount of pens. Instead of just, you know, ordering a few boxes, someone wanted to know the exact amount of pens that were needed ... I suppose you have to be a little precise to do this job. But there ought to be limits.

... not a classic anecdote as such.

Someone got mad and annoyed yesterday because I dared disturb him by doing my job? Is that better story material?

... it really isn't. I need to get a better quality of stories ...


We're ...

... at the 'M'. Unfortunately ... that's where life stops being funny. 'M' is one whole shelf. It has Metallica and Marillion. And they have put out loads of CD's ... and I have some 'extra'.

Ipod's are good. Filling them is ... interesting. I wouldn't be able to do it without my love ...

Oh ... and yesterday we saw the skull. I had hoped for an Aha-erlebnis. In stead we got a look at a tacky skull and we got reprimanded by a very surly little security guard for wanting to see the skull up close, from the front and for longer than 5 seconds.

The piece is not art. The commotion it generated sort of is.

In the end, someone got rich, some people got robbed, and some people made too much noise.


I ...

... have an Ipod. Or ipod. I don't know.

What I do know is that my discman died and that I should have gotten an ipod years ago. But money and thinking and inability to make any decision ever kept me from going that way. I'm quite set in my ways, really.

But now I'm dumping everything I own musically on there, with the help of my girl, to make, for me, the most perfect travelcompanion ever. It really feels special to always have the perfect song with you. There is magic in hearing the right song at the right time. There really is. It powerful. It's ... beyond description. It's moving and beautiful.

I'll make it perfect. With things I love on it. I shall be very ecstatic.



It was my birthday!

I didn't really celebrate as the mess and stress of the rest of the jests of november and december got a bit much. There wasn't any space in any weekend. Therefore I have moved it to january. We'll see whether life is more friendly to my personal celebration of the earth spinning round the sun once more. Darn it, if it wasn't the little planet that could all over again.

(I stole that sentence).

I still got to have a most excellent day, though. With nice gifts, playing WoW and doing nothing useful, scotch, cigar and diner. Yay! There should be more days like that, right?

I was happy.

In other news ... my dad's in the hospital again. I wish him loads of well ...

In yet other news, this time of the more comical variety, at least; I think so:

What do you do when you're a professional athlete with a contract worth 35 million dollar, 11 of which is guaranteed, you're having an okay career with occassional scuffles and a little injury time just enough so that your team has its eye on you? Well, what do you do?

You go into a nightclub and you shoot yourself in the thigh with your illegal glock .40 of course, ensuring that the whole sport's world looks at you and thinks you're a huge dick for not actually knowing what the hell a safety is even if it is bloody obvious you at least know the word because safeties are those people that ram you down whenever you have the bloody ball.


I though it before and I'll say it now: the Giants should never have won last year's Superbowl. Obviously they're really too stupid. Althought that has never stopped any american, ever ...


There ...

... are women with huge suitcases around the place I work at.

That struck me as odd. Why were so many women going on holiday from a tiny place in Amsterdam without a trainstation?

As it turned out these were people studying to become beauticians for which there apparently is a school around the corner, or something.

Now, I'm fine with all of this. I'm sure these people are needed and do a wonderful job and provide a service to the community. My only question is: if you need a bag the size of a city block to make someone beautiful ... aren't you fighting a lost cause? Like, maybe you should find some project less ... demanding? Like, shoring up the Vijzelgracht with your bags?


So ...

... yoga.

I'm trying it. In a completely unorganised way, of course. There is a TV chanel which is proudly marketed to women ... why I typed that I do not know, but there you go. Anyway. They have this thing called a program on there and it's basically happy people, twisting themselves, by a pool. The people are expert yoga instructors. The pool is at the Jamacan Grand Lido. The men are universally GAY! But that's neither here nor there. What is though, is that these people do scary things with their bodies. And I want that too ... but to be realistic I'm trying it out to see whether I can get a few extra centimeters of stretch in my leg muscles and back muscles. And it's quite a new challenge ...

What I do not get however, is that they keep refering to stretching of muscles as 'opening'. And that is just ... obscene. Really.

"If you are not open enough you can adjust your stance so that you feel more comfortable. The important thing is that you enjoy the stretch!"

That's just ... gross. Really gross. So, I'm trying very hard to ignore this ... but it's hard. It's 6:30 in the morning and strange, happy and to be honest, exceptionally ugly people are talking to me like THAT!?!?!

... shiver ...

Exactly why they're all so ugly ... maybe their faces got knocked out of shape by that infernal three point stance ...



Sinterklaas has arrived.

That was important news, people. I just have this nagging problem: is it cruel to let a child believe in a ficticious character for so long until you or someone tells them the truth? Isn't the deception a little much? I'm just not sure ... Anyway. My girl is watching the arrival right now. One has to compliment the TV people for doing such a wonderful job each year. It's still quite a production involving a town, a harbour, a huge boat (100 years old!), many many people, a huge number of actors and several .... Burgemeesters. It's a large happening. Impressive.

I'm back at work and back to sports. We are, however, still not feeling all that great. I still can't make it through a complete saturday of sports. My wise girlfriend tells me that this is to be expected but somehow I still manage to feel like a slacker. This will improve with time. I'm sure.

Wrath Of The Litch King dropped. We are pleased. Things are looking great and I'm ranking somewhat again. Happy!

In the mean time I have had dinner with my friend Anna ... well, dinner ... for some strange reason we always end up walking imense distances in the city and we eat at the MacDonalds. Sophistication is for wankers. She disagrees with me on Damien Hirst's skull. This error in her ways we forgive her. We have to. She's nice.



I am declared 'well'. Or as well as I'll ever be, right? Thanks to the ministrations of several doctors, several doctor's assistants (also known as: tibetan mummy wrappers) and last but not least my girlfriend, I am once again healthy. And I was at work today. Yippie.

Anyway. Bump has nearly gone. Now I have to get this weakness out of my body and I'll be better! New and improved!

God, I hate illness.

And Obama got elected. This is a good thing for the world. If only because it's not George Bush. It will be a while though, before I trust the USA again. After all ... they elected Bush. It's going to take some apologies before I'll even answer the phone again if they call. Because they chose Bush. And he managed to get to the end of his term. Without getting shot.

Still ... it's nice. You know ... for them. And hopefully for the world.

And I never want to see Palin again. She is scary beyond all reason.


Thus ...

... it went: different anti biotics because the first set just didn't work. At all. Also: I got wrapped.

Apparently, and this is very hush-hush, tibetan monks invested months of language-barrier-complicated months into learning the doctor's assistents the ancient and true secret of Wrapping A Leg What Has Become Infected ... at least that's what the lady sort of suggested, not so much in word but glaringly in action. My girlfriend is not allowed to do the bandages because them's special ... very ... nah. So, I'm wrapped up, which is bad. It feels like being part of an hourglass. Whenever you stand on the leg everything just flows into the lower half and this hurts.

Rest of the day: WoW. Running around to get exploration achievements. It's ... a weird thing. It's like racing to get to your holiday destination ...



I'm at home and I'm ill! It seems, public service anouncement by the way, that if you get hit in the shin often enough a weakness can occur which can be exploited by such opportunistic things as inflamations. In short: my leg is purple. My right lower leg. Fortunately I have a girlfriend who has had the unenviable task of getting me through some nice delirium, leg pain, headaches and hour long showers. Don't ask me why. It seemed right at the time.

I'm bad at being sick. My brain just gets into these horrible obsession moments about books and TV shows and it's just ugly. Trust me ...

Anyway. If things go right I'll be loads better today. Well ... I'm up, walking, have eaten a banana ... I'm doing just fine.

The doctor who checked out my leg pushed her thumb into the centre of the infection. Which, needless to say, hurt. Puh-lenty. You know what I did, indoctrinated as I am? I tapped out. I clapped my hands to signal to my 'opponent' that I 'gave up'. I feel sort of silly ...


New Shirt!

Yes ... I deviated from the normal one word and then dots approach for opening this message. This shirt came as a response to me being considered cynical by a large portion of the community. Even some parts of the community that I cared about. And parts of the community that had designs on my time, shall we say ...
It's a flat out denial of, well, the truth, basically. According to one interviewee I'm a limp and a medical degree away from not having a TV series ... because there already is one like that and starting another one with the same premise is actionable. Oh well ... but it's a cute shirt, right?


I ...

... recently saw a woman near the central station in Amsterdam who was trying to convince people to turn to religion. She was singing, or shouting, rather, and she was holding a little sign. Now, this sign was off. It admonished me to clean my sins ... So, since then I have taken out my sins and polished them and made them shine and I put them back on the shelf. They look lovely now. All silvery and good. I still think it was good advice. I just have to wonder what religion has to do with this ...


So ...

... apparantly, Damien Hirst's skull is coming to us.

Weird sentence. You'd expect him to accompany his skill with the rest of him ... but there you go. His skull is coming. Of the rest of him I know nothing. His skull is, of course, For The Love Of Gold, a platina skull inset with 8601 diamonds. It's a piece of art. It's supposedly is designed to tell us something about the nature of death, life, and the beauty of death and our fascination with it. Of course, it also manages to look like a rapper's bling dream ... but that is beside the point, I expect.

I have issues with the thing but I hope to go and see it for myself. The disturbing part is that the skull is modelled on an actual skull from the 18th century. So, evidently, it's not strictly a real skull. The teeth, however, are. And I have to wonder if an 18th century person would really be happy to have to teeth ripped from his skull and placed in this monstrosity. Maybe the person was religious and would dearly object, thinking that the second coming of Christ would be less fun if you could only partake of liquid food whilst waiting to get into heaven. It's a funny idea, but a serious point: you can't, in my opinion, take away a person's right to decide over his own body. I admit that after death all that becomes difficult in practice but then you should just go on common decency. You have to wonder what would happen if mr.Hirst had proposed to use a skull of someone who actually had living relatives. A victim of the 9/11 attacks, for instance. Or a nazi victim. I think the world would be too small for the noise. However, this skull has no family and no defenders and thus, he gets away with it ...

I feel mr.Hirst overstepped a boundary. I also suspect him of being a bit of a dick but I have no real evidence for that statement. It is, however, a nagging and constant feeling. Those turn out to be right a surprising amount of the time.


Oh ...

... I'm stupid. I should have shown our bunny. Because it's cute!
Also: this photo shows how bunnies can really cut into your TV watching time, by being on your chest and being inquisitive and playful and shoving their ass into your view. And we still think they're cute so they trained us well, I have to say.


If ...

... I get more bored at work time will reverse itself and the hours will not draw by like years as they do now but NOT.

As it turns out it also sort of kills my ability to write decent funny stuff ... so this is a placeholder, basically. I shall think of something decent to write ....


And ...

... suddenly we have a new bunny.

Suusje fell in love today and the little tyke is now resting inside a new cage. It's a totallt black bunny, really curious, very young and very lively. We're happy. It's name is, wait for it, Romeo B'shgetti Picachu. How that happened ... I do not quite know. It sort of happened and I had no control over it and, you know ... it happened.

Also: I have a headache.
Also also: it's my mum's birthday today.
Also also also: tomorrow Francisco is coming over to study.


Quick ...

... word on the music press.

It sucks.

And it doesn't.

Let me explain: there is only one magazine I read, often, and that is Aardschok. It has the most news about the bands I like most. That is the part I like. Aardschok, however, also has the annoying habit of informing me about the new releases of all the bands I like. therefore: it tells me that I have not nearly enough money to buy everything I like. Which is the part I hate. This month we get told about a Dimmu DVD, a Within Temptation DVD, a Kampfar CD and loads of stuff that I have to investigate. It's such a tough job being me.

On the other hand: they are mean to St.Anger. And I disagree. They just keep seeing it as just another CD whilst it really is an overall art piece detailing destruction and down-ward-spiraling.

Sometimes, however ... Listen to the new Into Eternity. It's ... heavy. Musically and textually since the band plays 'progressive black metal', whatever that is, and the lyrics deal with the death of three people close to the singer. Possibly this emotional charge is what makes it so goddamned awesome an album ... so impressive. It's a shame that this type of music rarely gets any attention. It's so worth it ... and I bought based on a review. There just aren't any rules to this music press thing. If only they were consistently sucky or great ...


Really ...

... odd thing in the Amsterdam canals, right now: older man, in a boat which has been rigged with a small barrel organ plays various classical music pieces. He plays them on horn whilst using the organ to accompany him. All this in a tiny boat whic spins on the water. It's ... strange. But funny.

So nice to see weird things. It makes me all tingly.



At least, I think they're in order. As it turns out the Netherlands are still the world's foremost producer of XTC! Every country has its talents but it's nice to, as a nation, get the recognition we so deeply deserve. Certainly if it is in a field that is so close to dutch people's hearts, namely, recreational drugs.

It's a proud moment for me.

There is some reason for concern since it seems that the amounts of drugs produced seem to be on the decrease. I'm sure however, that with a concerted effort we can turn this malicious tendency right around!

In other news: to my great shock, this morning, the Spits (a free rag mag calling itself 'newspaper') afforded half a page to NFL related news. One column to the season ending injury incurred by Tom Brady (goddamnit) and the remaining space to ... guess!!!

Favre? Pennington? The Colts losing? The interesting games played by the Saints or the Giants?The prospects of the Patriots? ... No! Of course not! How silly of me!

They gave that limited space to ... The Bengals! the wholly uninteresting, not performing at all well Bengals and their idiot receiver Chad Ocho Cinqo. Man ... an exciting first week and they manage to pick out the team that sucked to do a piece on.

It's rather depressing, I have to say. Oh well ... I suppose I should be happy that there is attention at all over here.

In more other news: we're still here! CERN did not blow us up. So far. Isn't that good? You have to wonder about scientists, though ... there was another moment like this, a few years ago. Scientists were at one point unsure whether a detonated nuclear bomb would just go 'boom'(* etc.etc.) or whether it could set the atmosphere on fire. Now, we know that doesn't happen. But we only know that because the morons went ahead and tried it. Now, if there is the slightest possibility of, you know, killing of all life on the planet, would you ... a. push the button, or ...
b. piss off to the pub and become a brick-layer

It seems so obvious.

I suspect that the thinking was that if the atmosphere were to be burned away it would at least be done by an american bomb so it would still count as a 'moral' victory.



The ...

... only song I expect to be REALLY funny in a gay nightclub:



So ...

... anyway ... it's, like, autumn. I have to do some behavioural-correction-course, sta here until released without trial and I feel homesick for Copenhagen.

So ... that is that.

God, I'm hungry. In order to eat less I eat apples. Does that make sense? The problem is that apples seem to evaporate immediately upon consumption. Which is sort of difficult as I'm not in the neighbourhood of a larder but more at the topfloor of my place of employment. If you feel the need to rescue me ... that's where I'm at. Anyway ... why does fat and fried food taste better and fill more? I think it's unfair and must be adressed by scientists.

I'm working my way through some ancient Dr.Who. The things that strike me are this: the old ones are really not so great anymore. You can sort of see what was exciting about it for an audience thirty years ago but it just doesn't work anymore. The quality begins to pick up around Dr.No.4. He's funny. He also has that maniac thing going on that I so appreciate. Also: how is it possible that kids from yesteryear were scared of men in silver tracksuits? Really ... it doesn't even look semi-convincing ... Also: Sarah-Jane Smith was a total softy, first time around.

And, last: watching Dr.Who whilst working is very satisfying ...


I ...

... made a discovery: small dogs are awful. However ... big men with small dogs look cute.

Mostly when you see men with huge arms straight from the gym with a dog you just know, deep down, that there goes an incredibly insecure species of human. You know the type: big, ugly, dumb, HUGE dog with HUGE teeth. However, every once in a while you meet a huge man, hours in the gym ... with a tiny dog. Obviously a sign that these men don't care how they look and don't feel the need to impress anyone. And instantly I like them ...

Though, technically, those dogs are still just laughable. Excited little critters who can't walk two blocks with getting tired. Oh, LeSigh ...

Thus, I have just proven: whether a dog looks nice or not is dependant on that ultimate accessory namely ... it's human. So ... why don't we let the dogs choose their owner from now on? Just so that the dogs gets the human that fits best ....


New shirt!

... you like? It's my own design!


This is me ...

... wearing a dress.

I assure you, this is the done thing in Aikido. Apparently it's, like, a tradition. It's called a Hakama. It has an incredibly complex closing mechanism (no velcro, more's the pity) and it has a load of folds. Folds which you are supposed to keep in there. Carefully. So, every time you've used it, you've got to refold it. Painstakingly. Every fold has a name too. And a symbolic meaning. I decided not to get THAT invested in it yet. I find putting the damn thing on a challenge as is. And it's fucking hot too ...

So far ... I'm not enjoying this very much.

However ... it does look ... cool. Somehow ... in a Steven "not fat yet" Segal way.


I'm ...

... ill. But reports about my death have been wildly exaggerated. And just plain wrong. Anyway. I'm at home. I was at home for the last two days too. I almost miss my job ...

I need to do stuff again. I feel myself become more stupid the more I don't.

Oh, LeSigh.


I ...

... may want out ... but they don't want me to leave. Got a joboffer. Think I'll turn it down.

In other news: guess who said this ... "Sport gaat altijd boven politiek" (sport is always more important than politics)?

HRH Drs. W.A. van Oranje. The future king of the Netherlands. He read history at Leiden University. You'd think he'd know better.

He was talking about China and the olympics, by the way. Human rights really are more boring than a game of foottie to him. The idiot.



... well, that says it all, really. Don't it just?

I had a blast this holiday, right up to the last minute (we took my parents to the MacD. and to see Wall*E yesterday ... my parents in the Mac. Big funny. For us ...) but now we're at work again. Back to the grind where the souls of the employees are used to feed the endless war against, or in favour of, paper.

I'm such a positive thinker.


We ...

... have returned.


We have.

Though, personally, I think it was a close call. I was willing to put in the extra week but social obligations, lack of financial support, tiredness and the unwillingness to eat another goddamned hotel breakfast were all instrumental in our return. Read closely: we did not return because we were tired of Denmark. Denmark is awesome. You do not want to be in a rush if you're visiting because the anxiety will kill you but the country is awesome, the people are awesome, everything is awesome.

We managed to squeeze in an enormous amount of 'things to do' including the mermaid statue, botanical gardens, several very cool museums, a zoo, an aquarium and an awesome amount of Tivoli.

Tivoli. How I love Tivoli. Imagine Disneyland without fakery and with heart and soul. They've been going for 150 years so they know how to entertain. There's music and rides and food and lights and weird events and awesomely disturbing teas and waiting for your hamburgers and boys who forget that wraps come, you know, Wrapped in something and conductors who conduct the audience and ladies who sing exactly two lines from the Show Must Go On and then leave and incredible coconut milkshakes and ...

It's endless. I'd be right there, right now. You know ... if I was in Denmark. And it was past 11.00. I feel like a walking advert for Copenhagen and strangely that doesn't bother me at all. I felt incredibly happy there and as I said a few times already: I could live there. So, the minute Maandag opens an office in Copenhagen I will ... ask Suus if she wouldn't mind me going there to wish them good luck before coming back and stuff.

Awesome holiday. I will post pictures. Maybe tell some more later. It's ... hard. Being home. I have to aclimatise.



... and not the weak little Madonna single either. The 80's brought us great things. This is not one of them. No ... I'm released from duty for a staggering two weeks. I will go to Denmark soon. And I will write about it when I get back. Who knows ... you might even get a present!

But only if you're nice.


What ho ...

Anyway, we're going to Copenhagen. Not the first time for me. However, we're going by plane which for some strange reason grips me with abject terror. I think it's now well and truly established that I do not do so well on ships but apparantly airplanes too hold a special little place in my heart ... I think it's the up and down motion. I don't do well in 3D.

We'll see. Denmark was fun the last time, though. But I had someone with me who could actually speak the language. Now we're going to have to try to establish some sort of relationship with the natives in one of 3 1/2 languages and with our hands and feet. We'll see ... really have to check what's up in Denmark ...


Work is still boring. that will be all.

I'm doing some 'painting' again. I'll see whether I'm willing to put up pictures ... they're different. And I'm slightly uncomfortable.

Uhm ... so ... how about that local sportsteam?

Also: check out what Billie Piper was doing whilst away from Dr.Who ...


Piper ... it's a dutch joke.


Girlfriend ...

... and me whilst in bed, discussed the possibilities of turning the titles of a certain gentleman's plays into the titles of hardcore porn vids. Now, I was semi-unconscious so, you know, I'll try to delve some up. Because It was really funny at the time.

To me.

And her.

Whilst falling asleep.

That was a disclaimer.

Oddly stated.


Two Gentle men and Verona
The Screwing of the Tamed (BDSM, obviously.)
Titus Androgynus (tranny film.)
The Cumedy of Eros
Love's Labours (pretty obvious, I'd say.)
A Midsummer Night's Cream (or Scream, if you like stuff less ... obvious or disgusting.)
Romeo and Juliet and Janice and Sandra and Elizabeth and Susan and Lucy and ... (gangbang.)
King Kong John (large willies are go!)
The Merchant of Penice (gay erotica, anyone?)
The Merry Wives of Windsor (really don't need to alter that.)
Much Ado About Mounting
Julius Kezer (works only in dutch, I'm afraid.)
Ass; You Like It! (like this one best.)
Hav'slet (sort of ... not very good.)
Twelfth Knight (suggested by my lady, as I recall. Another gangbang.)
Toilus and Cressid's ass
Measure for Measure (another one where the title is awful enough already. I leave it to your own ideas what's to be measured.)
O! Thello ... (the boy Thello is followed whilst he brings pleasure to the masses ... the title is a catchphrase ...)
All's Well That Ends Well (allround description of good sex for a man, I think.)
Macbef (another dutchy one)
Anthonio and Clitopatra
Pericl'ass, Prince of Tight
Coriolanus (we all giggled at that one already, right?)
Winter's Tail (hot babes in warm clothing. And then out of it.)
Cum-in-a-belle (more of a mispronounced anagram.)
The Tempestuous
Henry the VIIIth inches

Anyway. It was late ...


As ...

... of yesterday I am allowed to wear a blue belt to aikido! Yay! Although, tecnically, we don't actually wear any colour belt other than white. But I've got a virtual blue belt with me! And my girlfriend a virtual green one! Yay! 't was a good exam. It was nice. I have reached my goal for this sport's year and I'm ready for a break.

In other news: saturday I again met up with those loverly people from 5+Day. Linky is floating about here somewhere ... And them's nice people. You get to meet them, have fun at the expence of Rotterdam, get to see Lucy and Spike, get to see how awesomely in love they are, get to tease everyone, get to see how funny it is how people who know each other online for years are sometimes just so lost for words and then you get to go home.

It was weird, really. Short and sweet.

Plus, and in my own domain I can just say it. Lucy has an awesome rack.


Thus ...

... it is: I'm blegh.

I seriously need a weekend.

Luckily for me there's one coming up shortly. In it we shal perpetrate many instances of training's violence and there is a party scheduled when my oldest and dearest friend AnnA celebrates her birthday, probably in a manner unfathomable to the rest of humanity. I like her. Loads.

other than that ...

My bunny is still the same.

My girlfriend has stretched her neck again, this time in a near car accident (as opposed to a real accident) mainly brought on by the fact that hungarians have a weirdly coloured flag on the back of their cars and have the propensity to not look behind them when they change lanes. This is a bit of a fucked up thing, seeing as the chiropractor afterwards concluded that the only thing still in its place was her hair. The same hair she wants to have cut for quite some time now. So to what extend that was a positive remark remains to be seen.


Job is a bit useless too. Sometimes I have the feeling that working kills you an inch at a time. Sapping you of energy and strength and leaving you only a pension in a home for the elderly. But unfortunately, one needs money to do the thing that one ought to do. Like eating and having a home and stuff. I shall soon begin to participate in lotteries. I know that is completely pointless from a mathmatical point of view but in the end: 'It has to start somewhere, it has to start somewhen. What better place than here, what better time than now?'

Frans is cursing. He can't find some letter or other. Why do we pretend that all these little annoyances are even remotely worth our atention and effort?


Goshdarnit ...

... bunnies are fickle.

Our newest member of the knibbel-knabbel-knuisje family is another one. He doesn't like us very much when he's in his cage. But he LOVES us when he's out. Mainly because he then finds himself in a position that he is unaccustomed to and finds us the only stabilising factor. So, he lets us fidget with him and do his nails and comb him (no ... no make-up) but the minute he's back in his cage ... he's off.

Pretentious bastard.

Yeah. We like him. Eventhough working for him is not very profitable.

Anyway. Today, work. Another wonderful day at the office where slowly, bit by bit, your creativity is drained and your energy is used to discuss whether a certain subject should be allocated to BAC .07.354 or .07.125. This being the difference between talking about the building or more in general the housing of the service. I'm yawning as I write. To compound matters, like compound fractures, today is our scheduled conference day, so I'll have to sit up for about 1 hour and a half, pretend to care, figuring out new methods of staying awake.

And all this for money.

Recently the question was posed to me, again, because it's not very original, would you quit your job if you suddenly had millions? You see ... not very original. The answer I would give is a resounding 'YES'. People will always tell you that you'll get bored and that you should take on a job just to keep your social skills up to code but really, if you're rich, you can do almost anything as long as it's not TOO illegal, thus, boredom would be only there at the end of your imagination. Plus, you'll never be alone again (against loneliness there is no guarantee but there never is whatever the state of your wallet) so those social skills will stay sharpened and ready to use. And if you do do something insanely stupid on a social scale ... who cares? You're rich! People will see you as ... eccentric. And eccentricity will always be forgiven. Plus, it's waaaaaay easier to do something useful for the world. Which is nice. I could start a bunny shelter. Have people work full time with bunnies. Have other people get ignored by them on a daily basis ...


Blue ...

... belt.

Since yesterday. In karate.

I hate exams. Soit. This one ... well I had a major fuck-up (truly awesome in nature) in the middle because I let myself be guided by someone in my vicinity which threw me for a major loop. Other than that I was quite pleased, actually. I feel slightly lighter for having it behind me. Even though the dressingroom smelled like piss like you wouldn't believe.

We did the exam with three people. The guy that distracted me failed. Kind of sad. mainly because there were ... circumstances. Evenso ... it has been done.

Now I don't want to do kata for a while.

I feel happy because of the blue belt. It's nice. Tingly, even ...

In other news: bastard bunny is still unwilling to acknowledge me as its lord and master. He usually leaves in a huff when I try to reason with it. Ifeel ... slightly ignored. I seem to be unable to impress upon the bunny that I'm a benevolent bunny ruler.

Great line for a t-shirt, that.

Benevolent Bunny Ruler.


Reading ...

... Haruki Murakami's Wild Sheep Chase. I was pleasantly suprised to find that it referenced Terry Pratchett's disc-world at one point. Other than that it's a funny, weird and wonderful little book. I like this strange man and his strange books. Of course, what the critics deem to be his best book, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles, is completely unreadable. More's the pity. i must hae missed something there. But steer clear of that one and you'll get a very rewarding set of books to read all of which manage to paint a picture of Japanese society in recent decades, some wonderful stories and loads of free bewilderment to boot.

In other recent news: we have a new bunny. It's a seven year old one we got from a rodent rehabillitation centre. It's cute as a button and pictures will surely follow. I think we sort of decided to get bunnies that are rejected by their previous owners and which are a bit ... sad, in a way. This one was unlikely to get a new owner, especially since there were young bunnies to choose from so we took the little monster home. It's our good deed of the year for now.

I just read that a new tribe has been discovered in the amazon rainforest. The weird thing is that they actually have an estimate of the number of tribes that are still undiscovered in the world ... now ... how did they do THAT, I wonder ...



Well ...

... my lady has returned. Actually a few days ago, but we've been busy. Of course when she got back there were stories to tell and things to stow away and stuff. Unfortunately that was also the night that our bunny decided that he had had enough after 4 unhappy years elsewhere and 4 happy ones with us. Then the next day I had training and she needed to do some work because her idiot school couldn't find another way of checking out the exams. Then we had to have a boat ride right after her father decided that getting into an arguement with an amsterdam taxi driver was a smart thing to do. Because they're such reasonable people. So that ended on the police station. And then she came in time problems and we had to grade papers to be ready on monday.

So, yesterday, I was sort of exhausted at my job. I was better off than my lady, though. She's basically fallen ill. Not that she can do anything about that, though ... she's got oral exams to hear. Weirdly enough, together with my big sister.

Long story.


Well ...

... it's amazing how little one does when one's lady is not in the house. It's fascinating. I have the feeling that I've ground to a screeching halt. Really annoying. About the only creative thing I have done of late is figuring out how to make Vodka Martini's. The Vodka Martini is a drink which has a fairly pleasant taste, at least the first half, and gets you drunk amazingly quick. It's rather shocking. I have no head for alcohol, I'll admit as much, but this will do your head in, trust me.

But that's about all. A passing fancy for a drink drunk by posh wannabe's and James Bond.

In truth, I hope that Suusje comes back rather quickly. It's amazing how much support she does lend me by just being there.


Yesterday ...

... my lady left me.

To go to the Ardennes. With 28 kids. And her father.

Yeah. It sounded ominous to me too.

Anyway, they're walking. This is some sort of important experience for young people to have, walking around in hilly countryside. It is supposed to make them better individuals. Which is fine as long as I wasn't convinced that it makes my girlfriend something less than an individual for a few days after. Because, obviously, when she gets home she'll be tired and stuff. Because as it seems kids are noisy and busy and want attention. So, she'll have gotten little sleep and bad food.

And: she took her father along.

Anyway, as this happens at least once a year I sort of have a routine to deal with this thing: I eat badly, sleep little, spend way too much time on computergames (WoW = WOW!) and I am in general reverting back to an earlier form of man. There you go. It turns out that my girlfriend keeps me normal. Otherwise I'd be tired a lot.

For added comfort I'm dealing with the stuff she usually deals with: I have taken over a small part of her actual paid work. I'm correcting stuff. Otherwise there'd be no time to do other stuff. So, I guess you could say that I'm without girl and with an extra task to perform for her school. So, this school of hers has stolen from me twice now. Bastards. They'd better be extra special nice to me when next they see me or I'm going to replace all the walls I knocked out of there a few years back. I'm not above boarding that whole upper floor up again AND replacing that metal monstrosity of an expansion vat. So help me God I will find a couple of nuns to live there too if they're not careful ...

All that aside ...

It would be nice if she got back in one piece.



... no, not the idea which is fairly loathsome. But the person and the name.

I recently saw on the TV that (in one of the 'lighter' channels or:'TV for Morons') that Cher has a daughter. And her name is ... chastity. That in and of itself is a giggle right there. A daughter named ... chastity. If a child is hoped to be everything the parents were not then this is such a telling name ... Cher wants to be a nun. Or maybe she regretted having the child: 'if only I'd been chaste ... what a cool name!'

That, however, is beside the point. The point is that it is vicious and cruel for anyone to call you daughter 'She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Fucked' which is basically what she's saying. It's harsh. And then it turns out that this daughter is also gayer than a bag of ferrets ... you're called Chastity. You're gay. Sexually you have an inclination which has it's own built-in street-cred but the name just slays your possibility of ever being anything than a depressed woman at home behind the blinds ... which our Chastity then proceeded to be.

It was a cruel thing to do. I hope other people fail to repeat it. To call anyone after virtues is ridiculous. You just weigh a person down with expectations. Harmony, Grace, Prudence ... stop being unkind to your children people.

Just stop.

Besides ... it's such a stripper name. And that can hardly be the intention, I suspect ...

I just thought of something else. Her last name is Bono. Beavis and Butthead saw the lewd possibilities in that name years ago. She-Who-WIll-Not-Be-Fucked Boner. Cher must really hate kids.


A couple ...

... of problems.

First: where do you leave your stuff in this heat. I usually carry the essentials of life around in my coat but let's face it ... it''s unseasonally warm these last days and, although I love my coat, really I do, it's possibly a tad too much these days. Now, what are then my options?

- Stuff everything in my pockets. Which is unsightly and rather bulky.
- Buy a men's purse also known as a gay bag. The problem there should be evident.
- Suffer through the heat. Well ... that's just hot.
- Don't carry so much shit around. Hmmm ... but I'd miss it!

Any suggestion is appreciated ...


I notice that an awful lot of albums have their best song first on the CD and afterwards sort of slumb down a bit in quality. This annoys me greatly. What I feel we should do is force bands to put out a consistent level of quality. I think it's imperative therefore that I get called upon to assess the qualities of all the songs of all the bands I like so that they are unable then to kill themselves off due to lack of proper order and quality on their CD's.

I await the invition of the correct recordlabels. You know who you are ...

I still have a job. This is good. That's all I have to say about it. In a pro-active sort of way. With the right attitude.



Another ...

... chickany post!

This is what the little tyke did yesterday when we got her indoors so that she could spread her wings a bit. I'm sitting there, oblivious to my surroundings (what else is new, right?) when suddenly, I feel a flapping as if something gently tapping, tapping at my earlobe's door.

Or something.

I'm no good with poetry. But then, Dennis isn't much of a chicken too, so we are completely in sync. In the non-gay-boyband way, of course.

Other than that, the week has sped by and I'm currently looking forward again to going to my work. The going there is okay. The remaining there and doing stuff less so, decidedly. I think I'd be really good at being incredibly wealthy and then not working. People will always suggest that you'd be bored then, but I disagree and I'd like a chance to prove people wrong.
There is a movie of Dennis too ... we'll see if I can deliver it to YouTube ... I have little hope. But there you go ... We'll try, damn it.
... Ik mag geen lege regels invoegen vandaag ... blijkbaar.
... tja. Computers.
There you go.


Chauvinism ...

... is the virtue of the vicious.

It's queen's day. This means that the royal family once again gets a very skewed view of the dutch people because on their annual tour through some province they only get to meet farmers and mentally handicapped. Who play old games, whilst singing and hitting eachother with pillows. I have no idea how the royal family stays ' normal' .

I do know that Beatrix has trouble getting through half an hour without a roll-it-yourself cigarette so if you pay attention you might actually catch a few minutes where she's ... away.

At least: sources close to the palace say. Very close. Practically across the road, even.

Anyway, pride in the place where you're born is just as useful as chainsaw at a dinnerparty. Sure, you can use it to cut your meat but it isn't very civilised, discreet or subtle.


Quick ...

... note.

Today is my only day at work this week. I'm bored beyond belief and i pray for something stupid to do, like a nice evacuation due to a bombthreat or something. You know ... something to liven up the place.

Anyway ...

There's all sorts of weird things happening in the coming days, with the queen's day being prime amongst those, so we got a few days off. Something to do with working for the city or something. So, a few days off, which coincide with my lovey's holidays. We're investigating World Of Warcraft. Man, is it huge. I'd like to have THAT on disc, so as to avoid monthly fees and other players, but I realise that is not even remotely possible. Man it's LARGE. And fun. And ... expensive. That is the downside. We're thinking about it, anyway. It's fun, though.

Furthermore, I had hoped to publish a new T-shirt I have had made for myself here, right about now. But the truth is that the endresult sucks so much ass and looks so cheap and feels like it's made cheaply by small children in an underdeveloped country that I think I'll pass. However, all is not lost, eventhough this was a huge blow to my confidence (hohum). I'll just have to go looking for a better printer ...

Currently, Sid (one of the people here) is singing along to some rap thingy. However, he's not singing it out loud but he's singing along to his Ipod at a level just above hearing. rarely have I heard something so deeply annoying. It's like being threatened by someone with a throat infection. Just less funny.

Oh well ... beck to whatever it was I was doing. Which was nothing ...



... or something to that effect.

I am ... alone!

The whole place is empty. I'm supposed to be working, but the trouble is, of course that I don't really know what to do and there's no one here to tell me so ...

I have time to do this!


Last weekend I had a little job related outing. The loverly people at Maandag show us once a year how much they appreciate us and the money we rake in for the company by hiring off some big hall and stuffing 4000 of us in there along with some food and drink and some "musical" acts. They do know how to spend their cash. They got a bit of class so it's all pretty okay.

Anyway ... last friday, Heineken Music Hall, Blof. And it was fun. they're not really my thing but they did manage to coax a bit of a smile on my face so it's all good. Plus, my sis wanted to see them so I had to turn up anyway. She wouldn't get in otherwise (I have that much power, you know).

The weirdest thing though ... there was this awesome light/laser/fireworks show ... accompanied by hornblowers. Who were blowing pieces of Star Wars music. Now, I don't quite know what that is supposed to convey to the listeners ... we have the force? We have a Death Star? Our president has a breathing problem? You are our clones? The implications are baffling ...

Also. There was Gerrit. The Maandag dancer. A fellow, slightly ... rotund. Corpulent, if you will ... fat. Basically, slightly pudgy around the edges. In a suit. Doing electric boogie (rather well, actually, in as far as I'm a judge) ... but it was a weird moment. Of the evening. Of my life. The guy just danced for about 3 minutes. Just ... danced. Weird.

No explanation was given as to how or why this happened but it happened. And we have to carry on living in spite of it.

Afterwards there were the kind words of some fucker in a tie and, yes, public speaking is a torture.

And then Blôf and then home. All-in-all a good evening and I had loads of fun with my sis too. Which is good! I have however, offered my services to Maandag in selecting next year's band. So far ... no response. But I have high hopes ...


My ...

... girlfriend is feeling ill, I just received word that something I have been doing about 140 times probably has to be done again and, oh yeah, yesterday I helped crack someone's rib.

Lovely day. I need a drink.

So, like, yesterday, I had Mark in a transportation grip and he wanted to demonstrate that he could get out of it. In doing so, however, he used so much force (and my arm as wedge) that he cracked his own rib. Big scare, loads of pain ... and an amazing amount of laughter. He nearly choked on it. I really don't know how he is today, but seriously ... how good can you be wioth a cracked rib? Amazing thing to happen. Luckily enough, i really won't be teased all that much by people in my Jiu-Jitsiu class. they're so civilized I doubt I'll hear anything at all.


The news that I have to revisit something along the lines of 140 files that I have created over the last month was also something I did not need. they're useless files, no one wants 'em, but nevertheless, it is, apperantly necessary that a correct and extensive and as detailed as possible description is given to each file ... in stead of one that simply works.

What in the hell ass am I doing here anyway? I have too little time to do the creative stuff I like and too much time doing shitty ass assignments no one cares about in the end. *sigh*

I'm currently too emo. All I need now is a good little migraine to make my fucking day complete.

Also: my girlfriend is under the weather. Which makes me unhappy. I guess she'll be in the bath tonight. With Harry the DVD playa'. Gonna feed her steak. Strengthen her up a bit ...


New ...

... boss, when leaving, after having been infused with too much knowledge:

NB: I'm going home now, to think about all of this ... how do you call that, in your sleep, uhm ...
ME: A nightmare?
Daniel: Laugh
NB: No, that's not what I meant, a computer term, uhmmmm ...
ME: Garbage in, Garbage out?
Daniel: Laugh
NB: I see the gentlemen are not very serious anymore so I'll see you all tomorrow.
All: Bye, Bye.
Daniel: Laugh

I made my old boss, Daniel, laugh. Which was really amazing considering the shitty weekend he's had.

Anyway, new boss. We'll see.

What goes on in a chicken's mind? Yesterday Dennis decided to snuggle up to me on the armrest of the comnputerchair. Weird animal.


This ...

... is Dennis. The chicken.

I know. Unsuitable name. But there you go. Not everyone can be named after a Shakespeare character ...

See below for Dennis' story ...


So ...

... that was weekend.

Over a four day period of time I trained 8 hours, got a new chicken and got new shoes.

The chicken ... a neighbour kid rang our bell with a very apathic looking bird in a shoebox. Turns out that the animal was released where he keeps his pony because it won't lay eggs anymore and the owners were too squeemish to dispose of the animal and too poor, obviously, to take care of an animal. Or, you know, they didn't care. It was a member of a group of four released birds, three of which were already taken by the local fox and weasel population (nice ... foxes and weasels!) and number four arrived at our doorstep. Nice people as we are we took the sad little bird in thinking it would drop dead of shock. Fortunately, the thing took one sniff of the food presented to it and immediately started pecking at the bowl like a headbanger at a megadeth concert. When the bowl was empty it simply stuffed it's head under a wing and went to sleep. the next morning it sort of behaved totally normal, for a chicken, which is a wholly different and altogether strange type of normal, and it has been going strong ever since. The latest report was that it was walking free in the livingroom, shitting everywhere and generally being a nuisance. We like animals. Please give me more chickens like this. They are fun. Pure comedy gold ...

The new shoes. The old ones were ... well, stuck together with duct tape, to be honest, so it was time for a new pair. I usually wear these heavy duty mountaineering shoes, way, way, WAY to heavy for daily use (at least judging from the surprised and slightly horrified faces of the sales ladies) but there is something to be said for wearing your own, expensive, concrete shoes ... if the mob ever comes calling you can say that you brought your own. At least THAT way you can ensure comfort, even whilst at the bottom of a handy river.

They're also water-tight.

New shoes are great, though. I like a little resistance and nothing gives resistance like new shoes so tight they make it neigh impossible for anyone to walk normally. I'm audible again. Five kilos of leather and rubber on my feet. God, and there are still people who wonder where I get my truly wonderful calves and leg muscles. Seriously, it has been a project of 20 years but the results are stunning. I now have awesome legs. Be jealous.

Of course, those awesome legs have been encased in shoes which are ... at best ... not very fashion sensible. But then again, I hate fashion fascists. (Having said that I LURVVVV the Fashion Channel. they have this show, Models Talk, which is just a beautiful oxymoron, emphasis on moron.)

So, I'm currently able to climb mountains again. I'll do that as soon as one is discovered in Amsterdam (Amsterdam heeft het). For now though, I'll have to break them in walking to the central station. Subway services are patchy and suspended today seeing as somebody took it upon him to derail a metro using the time-honoured principle of not closing the rails. That would do the trick to be sure ... twats.


Yesterday ...

... I had a total hedonist day. After work of course. There's very little to be hedonistic about there, believe me ... anyway. I travel with a DVD player these days, so I get to relax in trains and watch old DS-9 episodes which is very cool, really. It's our new toy and I like it. Loads. My girlfriend was of with her family looking at people doing complicated things with bodies.

It was a musical. Dirrty Dancing. (Porn is still not a family affair ... you perverts.)

I was home alone (in the non-McAuly Culkin way, of course) and I treated myself to a nice dinner, a nice cigar and a nice bath all whilst watching DS-9. Life can be sweet. Shame my girl wasn't around really. But that was okay. I got the chance to plant 8 bouquets of roses around the room so, all in all, pure win for her too ...

So, yesterday was nice.

Today ... not so much. I'm kinda bored ... but I'll see Past Tense, part II when I go home so that helps, a bit.

Oh, and by the way:

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
(That slepen al the nyght with open eye)
So priketh hem Nature in hir corages
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke
That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.

That time of the year again.


Boudisque ...

... is ceasing to exsist in Amsterdam.

They do it with style, though. They've been cutting their prices to a ridiculous level to ensure there will be nothing left when the store finally closes at the end of this week. That's the nice bit.

The not so nice bit is that the store is CLOSING. I liked that store. Sure, it did not always have all the things you might want simply because there wasn't enough room but it did carry an awful lot and the people who were employed there did know stuff. They are obvious music lovers. Scruffy, smoking, but knowledgable.

Now, if I want something obscure or very, very metal I have to rely on some other store that employs some pimply adolescent who always look strangely offended if you do not buy the latest and greatest HIM CD. Or, gasp, Tokyo Hotel. they're usually a bunch of wankers at FAME. Let's be honest.

So, I may have to go back to Boudisque Amsterdam one more time. Just for old time's sake. And for the thirty percent off.

In other news: it snowed all day yesterday, so I figured it'd be awesome to deck out one of our plants in a christmassy vein and place a gift under it for my lovey. She appreciated it. Snow's fun. Blizzards too. If you happen to look out on it from inside a warm building. the view from the sixth floor was awesome yesterday.


In ...

... in recent times this blog has slowed a bit. That has a number of reasons. The more significant one was that my dear old dad is in the hospital. We were sort of anxious. We still are, actually, although the news was yesterday that he was doing a wee bit better. It was all ... ugly and stuff. With inflamations and fluid build-ups and kidneys and other doctor-y stuff which hardly ever manages to stick in my brain especially when it concerns my family. Weird. You'd think I'd remember stuff. Anyway. There seems to be some progress. Which is a good thing, you know. In general. As long as it doesn't lead to an increase in the CO2 footprint. Or something.


At work. Personally, I think that I'm doing too little. I want MORE. More WORK, that is.

I must be mad, right?

Anyway. My boss just staggered in here looking like death warmed over. I wanted to ask him just how strong the lonely biker really is (dutch pun) but it somehow seemed ... unwise.

I'll try to find something to do now. Might be a long search. Send a rescue party out after me if I'm back in five minutes.

I also noted that I use the word 'anyway' a lot. Might be a freudian thing. You know ... Any way?


Well ...

... I'm back at work. The fun is that I basically have to start over again with on the job training. I just have no clue and a limited amount of time to get to grips with stuff before the person who does the training leaves.

I'm getting repetitive. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Anyway ...

Fun people, fun place of work. We laugh a lot. Plus, I get a lunches with Rita again ...


Guess ...

... who got a job at the DMB?

What can I say? I'm contagious.


My ...

... lovey and me, we have done extensive work restoring the dead sea film scrolls and we are very pleased with the result. There's a red cat in it. And it looks like fun ... you know, just before the world drowned ...



Here's ...

... the vid.


YouTube hates me so it might not work all that well. Whatever. The idea is solid.

Been to the chiro. I'm sore and have a headache. I only feel like eating and buying more playmobil. More friendly animal things for my girlfriend and more vikings and romans. Therefore: amuse yourselves for a bit.

Today ...

... I invented a method of doing stop-motion animation. It's not perfect but it sort-a, kind-a works. It's fun. I have a few seconds of very shaky film now in which a felt tip pen moves around on its own and a few seconds of a playmobil roman crossing the image on his battle cart. It's fun but the image is shaky. But I like it. I might pick this up tomorrow. Try to come up with something nice ...

Anyway. I seem to be out of work these days and so far as I can tell this state will persist into next week. It gives me time to do some stuff but unfortunately it also leaves a lot of time for sheer boredom. Amazing how fast one gets used to the daily grind of work. The annoying thing is that when you're at work you have all these awesome plans about what to do with your free time. And when the free time arrives ... but I try to keep busy. Painting, guitar, studying, some stuff around the house ... although that is fairly limited. I am actually trying to take an actual break.

Still, we'll see what next week brings ... maybe someone, somewhere needs something from me again. Or not. Possibly.


Welcome ...

... to 'Pimp My Ride' ... Roman Style!
Meet septicus Maximus whose charger just isn't charging. Honestly, there's no room for a good spear, let alone for a few momentos taken from his holidays destroying villages all over England. Now, with the amazing technical skills our team (Joe The Special Plumber) posses we shall turn turn this trotted out one trick pony into an amazing battle ready piece of gear as never seen before, outside a movie about Ben Hur!
If you want to enter our program with your ancient stead, write to us on a stone tablet to the adress posted below ...


Well ...

... today is my final day at work, here, at the DMB. Though there were large gaps of nothingness in the day-to-day business of things, I can certainly say that, as a whole, the experience was a good one. I never had a regular job, really, so this was a strange change for me. I usually have clean-up jobs which to a certain extend I prefer, I can say.

There were some side effects of all of this I did not like very much but I met some nice people, had some laughs, totally brill.

Now I have to get through this whole saying goodbye thing ...

Civil servants. *sigh*


So ...

... my old man is in the hospital. With his foot. Actually, both of them, he can't just leave one behind, but the PROBLEM, for which he's in the hospital is his foot. Specifically, it's rather large. Like, 'no pumps for you'large. Actually anything below a moon boot (remember moon boots?) is going to be an issue ... so they're cheerfully filling the old man up with antibiotics. He's a bit grumpy, though. He just doesn't want to be there but recognises the need for it. The whole 'not being able to walk'thing tipped him off, I guess. I sympathise. Hospitals suck ass. Really. Big ass. They do strange things to the human body in there ...

In other news: we're rapidly approaching the time of my departure from the DMB. What that means on a day-to-day basis is that people from my employer (http://www.maandag.nl) are calling me a lot with possibilities for redeployment. I like that stage. Gives off the impression that I'm a hot property.

Aside from being just HOT!

The two mutsen who are to replace me will do so admirably. It's a shame that one of them already stated that she doesn't like administrative tasks. Made me giggle. Especially now that it has become clear that the ladies are supposed to sit in on meetings and take notes. thank the lord I never have had to do so ...


Amazingly ...

... enough, the other site has been updated AGAIN!

This time, my niece and I are on photographs. We're doing ze paintingz. We're ze coolezt.



Up ...

... on the other side/site: two new paintings. Not gay at all.


I put them up because today I got confirmation that someone actually enjoys it and that's always a good way to get me to do stuff: appreciation.

I got a letter today. An honest to goodness letter. No e-mail, SMS or something. A real handwritten letter. And, to be honest, I feel very happy and special because of it. In a sense a letter is a little gift, someone wants to share something with you and it's magical.

The letter was by Anna, my oldest and dearest friend. I know her from school and she has stuck with me through everything. I think that's very rare and very special. I don't see anyone anymore from those days, really, except her and honestly, I don't really feel the need to see anyone else from those days. I got Anna and that's enough.

So, I think that tomorrow I'm going to write back. Maybe not in handwriting because, well ... my handwriting is 'expressive' (=atrocious). But I hope to bring some fun in her home ...

In other news: I have a headache.

In other news: I worked with Sabine today, she of the lovely german accent, and everything went forth with an unbelieveable smoothness. And after today I shall never see her again. I hope she manages to stay afloat in that world of weirdness that is DMB but having met her twice now I'm quietly confident.