Stolen from a source I can no longer recall:
Due to an oversight in reprogramming the Diebolt voting machines flown in from Florida, George Bush gets 51% of the vote in Iraq.
Well, here I am, hanging in my new pad (map) while the TV guy is trying to make the satellite work. Satellite! Ooo! Now I can ignore even more channels. Tonight I will perform some sort of ritual to consecrate this soon-to-be-hallowed ground. There’s only one beer left, though, and it’s a long way to get more. Having the grocery store so far away is enough to drive a man to liquor.
I’m not sure the satellite guy really knows what he’s doing. He’s just fiddling with the buttons and the remote control, when the connector on the cable is broken. He’s just spinning through the channels that get no signal. He’s on 189 now. Every once in a while he finds a channel that works, though.
OK, he’s gone now, but the non-satellite channels still work, and now I’m sitting in the comfy chair, sipping a frosty Budvar, watching professional hockey. Yep, that’s right. Sparta’s up 1-0 in the first period. It took me a while to figure out which team was which; there are so many corporate logos on the uniforms there’s not much room for the team identity. It looks like a contest between Siemens Mobile VW Hi-Tec (all the players are named Ferrari) and TCHAS Buska Vjačka (all the players are names Dalkia). The refs are all named ARC impex, all are members of team Skoda, and they have Aquasoft written across their butts. The ice itself looks like it belongs in NASCAR.
But it’s hockey. Right now they’re skating 4 on 3. It’s been a very physical game.
As far as things around the house go, the appliances are definitely used, but the cabinets and countertop are new. The kitchen faucet is a trip. When you turn it on you can hear water running somewhere. A trickle starts, and eventually there is decent flow. That’s when you turn it off. Water will continue to flow for quite a while as the water that had been filling the pipe drains out. Nutty. Shower works as advertised (note to self: towels).
I figured out how to have the temp go down at night to save on heating bills. This morning I am appreciating how long it takes for the temps to recover. (Note to self: house shoes). It’s going to take extra tea (note to self: kettle) in the morning to get me going. I still plan to let it get pretty chilly in here at night (note to self: extra blankets), at least until guests arrive (note to self: extra extra blankets). The fridge (note to self: food) keeps the beer (note to self: more beer) cold but the freezer (note to self: cleaning supplies) is untested.
Since 05-05-05 is right around the corner, I’ve been assessing how many guests I can host at once. The answer: a lot, as long as they’re short. So please, when you send me your reservations, tell me how tall you are. Remember: in this case, short is good!
Mainly this is to tell all y’all that I will be moving today. The new digs are nice, but I won’t have Internet access there until I can get the cable run up to the flat. That requires talking to several people who don’t speak English. In the meantime I’ll pop by fuego’s pad periodically to check in.
On a related note, I will be starting czech lessons next week with a very pretty tutor whose boyfriend is a buddy of fuego’s. Here’s hoping Ivanka introduces me to her cute friends for “conversation practice”.
Here in the Muddled world, February 2th, or 02/02, is oughto oughto day. It’s kind of like a reverse New Years day; its a time to finish something. It’s that deadline you need to get that open-ended project done. Here are my oughto oughto goals:
In order to get number 2 done above, I need suggestions. The others are up to me. What ought you to do?
“You ever been to the British Museum?” he asked me.
“Couple of times.” I like museums.
“There’s a tablet there. Babylonian; before the Bible. Bunch of cats exiled or something. The were called Amankandu. ‘People who in sorrow roam’. Their leader was named Ka’in.”
It made sense. Kicked out of the garden, wandering. “Banned be thou from the soil which has received thy brother’s blood,” I said.
“They’re still out there, the Amankandu. Still wandering. And when they meet, they know one another.” He raised his glass to me.
It it probably far more interesting to me than to anyone else just what it is that brings people here. This is just a small sample of the silly things people look for on the Web, and it’s pretty obvious that what they were looking for was not to be found here. As usual, words that I would prefer Google send to the original reference have been obfuscated here with spaces.
There has been a surge lately in people who can’t spell “picture” correctly, and thus are led to my episode P i t c h e r s. Beethoven is big, but searches concerning squirrel violence are on the decline. As always there are plenty of people looking for cooking advice, especially on the weekends.
I spent the evening writing at Roma. After the batteries were dead and the brain cells were well on their way, fuego and I played some pool. I am not very good at the game at the best of times, and last night was not the best of times. I lost, and then fuego started playing against the bartender. I played a couple more games, but most of the time I was standing at the bar talking to a czech guy who didn’t like being a czech guy.
“I am mad,” he said. I laughed it off, but he convinced me he was right. Nothing like talking to a drunk suicidal misogynist with violent urges on a Tuesday evening. Or on a Wednesday morning, for that matter. The sky was getting lighter when we came home, and at this lattitude in winter that’s saying something. The crazy guy walked with us. I think he wanted to sleep with fuego. He had already given up on me, so I was free to give him drunken pseudo-philosophical advice. I’m sure he will treasure the nuggets of wisdom I offered. At some point I stopped drinking beer, because, well, there wasn’t anything more it could do.
The rest of the night will have to wait for fiction.
The sun is up now, and has been for a long time. I’m listening to the Karel Gott, the Czech Elvis equivalent, cover “Seasons in the Sun” and watching the wind blow outside. It looks mighty cold out there.