Saw this
Loved it
Store just down the road from us
(Drewbic has lots of great local shots on flickr.com... check them out)
Saturday, July 15, 2006
International Man Of Mystery
All sorts of things happening this weekend. Can't really talk about any of them (on pain of death) which makes this blog entry rather redundant, doesn't it?
Read a lovely quote from (notorious short arse) Dudley Moore yesterday. When asked how sexually compatable he was at 5' 2" with a 6' female model he replied "It's easy. I go UP on her."
Made me smile anyway.
Work options opening up like a Christian High School Girl's legs upon the realization that a pledge of chasity is an elastic thing. Feeling wanted for the first time in an absolute age. Which is a GOOD THING.
One thing that near death experience has taught me is the value of savings... you just need some emergency cash, especially when you travel a lot and aren't in any one country's pension scheme. So am following Oprah's rule and 'paying myself first' each month. But work options could mean that I'll be paying myself a whole heap more; leaving Judith a merrier widow when the experimental drugs catch up with me and my body closes down, my internal organs turning to liquid overnight.
Sorry that this, like sex with a woman with osteoporosis, is so disjointed. Next entry will reveal all, I swear.
Read a lovely quote from (notorious short arse) Dudley Moore yesterday. When asked how sexually compatable he was at 5' 2" with a 6' female model he replied "It's easy. I go UP on her."
Made me smile anyway.
Work options opening up like a Christian High School Girl's legs upon the realization that a pledge of chasity is an elastic thing. Feeling wanted for the first time in an absolute age. Which is a GOOD THING.
One thing that near death experience has taught me is the value of savings... you just need some emergency cash, especially when you travel a lot and aren't in any one country's pension scheme. So am following Oprah's rule and 'paying myself first' each month. But work options could mean that I'll be paying myself a whole heap more; leaving Judith a merrier widow when the experimental drugs catch up with me and my body closes down, my internal organs turning to liquid overnight.
Sorry that this, like sex with a woman with osteoporosis, is so disjointed. Next entry will reveal all, I swear.
Friday, July 14, 2006
A room full of swinging dicks
Back to work today… the first day of the rest of my life and already it’s all change. I’m no longer the planner on all things vodka (I’m still not sure why) instead I’ll be spending some time on razors and lots of time on some business with a shiny patina and with mountains of cash attached.
Now the thing about mountains of cash is that they attract dicks. Of the large and swinging variety. The last time I saw so many dicks being so energetically waved was at Dieter’s Blue Light Lounge down one of Bangkok’s dodgier Sois. .
We have all the COs and HOs (Chiefs Of..., Heads Of…) interested. And that means lots of big theories, large scale 'investigations' and much for me to do. .
Two approaches then. The “You’re better paid but I’m better” approach (my preferred) or the “I thought you really had something when you said (insert something they’ve never said)” approach. I’m thinking direct conflict. Not because it works any better but because it will get me heard and make me feel better.
Still you can bet your TV's extended warranty on my pulling lots of faces like the one above before the month is out.
Now the thing about mountains of cash is that they attract dicks. Of the large and swinging variety. The last time I saw so many dicks being so energetically waved was at Dieter’s Blue Light Lounge down one of Bangkok’s dodgier Sois. .
We have all the COs and HOs (Chiefs Of..., Heads Of…) interested. And that means lots of big theories, large scale 'investigations' and much for me to do. .
Two approaches then. The “You’re better paid but I’m better” approach (my preferred) or the “I thought you really had something when you said (insert something they’ve never said)” approach. I’m thinking direct conflict. Not because it works any better but because it will get me heard and make me feel better.
Still you can bet your TV's extended warranty on my pulling lots of faces like the one above before the month is out.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Big nippled prick (y-thing)
Sorry - had to be done
Well 2 comments was all it took to convince me to 'keep on blogging'... I truly am an attention whore.
My parents leave tonight; usually their visiting a place is accompanied by war, pestilence or plague. This time nothing major - just a tornado and some flash flooding, other than that their visit has been uneventful; though the dog has been walked to the point of collapse (always a good thing)
Today's mad rant? That f*ck*ng GE ad where the woman carries a large pink cake with her wherever she goes (including into a public toilet) presumable because she can't find a spot big enough to accommodate said confection. Of course when she arrives at the party still balancing the now ebola covered celebratory dessert she finds that said refridgerator has bags of room and slips the pink plague in with a self satisfied grin. A voice over then tells us that the new GE fridge has an ice dispenser in its door (oh and that it's quite big)
Well how the merry hell did this get through research. I can only think that the 6 women in Jersey focus group (a kind of advertising Supreme Court) were too pissed on free Hungarian Red to raise voice in concern and that the 106 women that they stopped in a mall for the quant' work (a kind of bogus ad' election) were so mesmerized by the thought of cake or too distracted by the view of a pair of Elastic Waisted pastel Capri pants in the window of Old Navy that they merely drooled their response.
GE fridges - they're for filthy, OCD whores who'd rather poison your party than put down an over iced, under decorated bit of sponge. That you? Buy away
Well 2 comments was all it took to convince me to 'keep on blogging'... I truly am an attention whore.
My parents leave tonight; usually their visiting a place is accompanied by war, pestilence or plague. This time nothing major - just a tornado and some flash flooding, other than that their visit has been uneventful; though the dog has been walked to the point of collapse (always a good thing)
Today's mad rant? That f*ck*ng GE ad where the woman carries a large pink cake with her wherever she goes (including into a public toilet) presumable because she can't find a spot big enough to accommodate said confection. Of course when she arrives at the party still balancing the now ebola covered celebratory dessert she finds that said refridgerator has bags of room and slips the pink plague in with a self satisfied grin. A voice over then tells us that the new GE fridge has an ice dispenser in its door (oh and that it's quite big)
Well how the merry hell did this get through research. I can only think that the 6 women in Jersey focus group (a kind of advertising Supreme Court) were too pissed on free Hungarian Red to raise voice in concern and that the 106 women that they stopped in a mall for the quant' work (a kind of bogus ad' election) were so mesmerized by the thought of cake or too distracted by the view of a pair of Elastic Waisted pastel Capri pants in the window of Old Navy that they merely drooled their response.
GE fridges - they're for filthy, OCD whores who'd rather poison your party than put down an over iced, under decorated bit of sponge. That you? Buy away
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Back from Vacation
So we’re back from Anguilla, which was small, quiet and perfect for what we needed. Lots of beaches, occasional great meals in scenic restaurants and the chance to be ‘1000 miles from care’
It doesn’t seem THAT long ago that I was coughing up pieces of lung on the poor people unfortunate enough to be sitting in a room with me on the JetBlue pitch.
Or that long ago that I was crawling to the bathroom in order to throw up what I couldn’t cough up.
Nor does it seem that long ago that that I was walking to the doctor’s office in Greenpoint to be told that I had lymphoma but would ‘probably be alright after a miserable 6 months or so.”
And the six months since then haven’t actually been all that miserable. Certainly not in comparison to the misery that you’re told to expect. But then managing expectations is the key to keeping people happy, this I’ve realized.
I’ve been thin, fat, bald, swollen, nauseous, euphoric, knackered, jelly legged, mercury ankled, optimistic, pessimistic and realistic.
But I’ve never been alone.
And I have you people to thank for that.
What next?
A bigger fight I think. A fight against the prejudice that I’m now, somehow, damaged goods. A fight against work’s new found ‘wrap him in cotton wool’ attitude. A fight against falling back into the acceptance of mediocrity that’s so comfortable a cage.
And some new challenges. The next year should see a new job for Jude. Perhaps a new city or country as a result of that new job (and hopefully a new job for me if a move does happen)
What next? Most importantly a chance to live ‘off schedule’ – without treatment dates and SCAN schedules dominating the calendar.
I’m not sure how much interest there will still be in this blog, now that it doesn’t have the draw of imminent death – add a comment if you’d like to see it continue, otherwise I’ll let it do what I, to date, have not. I’ll let it quietly die.
It doesn’t seem THAT long ago that I was coughing up pieces of lung on the poor people unfortunate enough to be sitting in a room with me on the JetBlue pitch.
Or that long ago that I was crawling to the bathroom in order to throw up what I couldn’t cough up.
Nor does it seem that long ago that that I was walking to the doctor’s office in Greenpoint to be told that I had lymphoma but would ‘probably be alright after a miserable 6 months or so.”
And the six months since then haven’t actually been all that miserable. Certainly not in comparison to the misery that you’re told to expect. But then managing expectations is the key to keeping people happy, this I’ve realized.
I’ve been thin, fat, bald, swollen, nauseous, euphoric, knackered, jelly legged, mercury ankled, optimistic, pessimistic and realistic.
But I’ve never been alone.
And I have you people to thank for that.
What next?
A bigger fight I think. A fight against the prejudice that I’m now, somehow, damaged goods. A fight against work’s new found ‘wrap him in cotton wool’ attitude. A fight against falling back into the acceptance of mediocrity that’s so comfortable a cage.
And some new challenges. The next year should see a new job for Jude. Perhaps a new city or country as a result of that new job (and hopefully a new job for me if a move does happen)
What next? Most importantly a chance to live ‘off schedule’ – without treatment dates and SCAN schedules dominating the calendar.
I’m not sure how much interest there will still be in this blog, now that it doesn’t have the draw of imminent death – add a comment if you’d like to see it continue, otherwise I’ll let it do what I, to date, have not. I’ll let it quietly die.
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