a bitch slapper is essential equipment
It’s been that kind of a week. Ah yes, welcome back to Vancouver, self!
UPDATED TO ADD something I need to keep in mind on G+ as well as in meatspace:
I am NOT the Jerk Whisperer. Wait, I'm not????
Let me tell you a story.
No, let me set a scene, then tell you a story. That’s probably not the way max would have it done, but then max isn’t pulling an all-nighter and watching a thunderstorm out the window while slurping porridge (mixed “apples and cinnamon” and “maple and brown sugar”; what can I say, I’m a rebel) which I don’t mean to say means I shouldn’t write well, but that I am undoubtably the best writer in the world pulling an all-nighter and watching a thunderstorm out the window while slurping porridge (mixed “apples and cinnamon” and “maple and brown sugar”; what can I say, I’m a rebel) right now.
Or prove I’m not!
In any case, the scene is:
I’m pulling an all-nighter and watching a thunderstorm out the window while slurping porridge (mixed “apples and cinnamon” and “maple and brown sugar”; what can I say, I’m a rebel). Today I was going through a stack of unmarked CD’s for reasons of my own which shall remain nameless here for no particular reason except dramatic tension, frantically looking for one that was empty, and found a bunch with music files on them. I stuffed them into the backpack to transfer to the Zune later, and then Later arrived and I picked one up and put it in the laptop, preparatory to stuffing on the Zune, and it started to play and I stopped cold and went, “What IS that? That’s terrific!”
And “terrific,” I will have you know, is far too wholesome a word for me to use lightly.
Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar.
And what was it, this song that was so terrific? Well, I had to wait till it was ripped to find out, because I don’t care how good your eyes are, staring at an unmarked CD will NOT give you that information, not even if you tilt it. And does anyone remember the name of that guy? That guy who could tell you what album, what version, he was looking at just by, you know, looking at it? WITHOUT the album cover, duh. Well, do ya, punk?
Right, the song. It was this song, quelqu’un qui m’a dit, which you can download here. It’s by Carla Bruni, now First Lady of France. If you like whispery, fragile brunette Euros who can carry a delicate tune, you’ll like this.
On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud que de nos chagrins il s’en fait des manteaux pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit…
Refrain:
Que tu m’aimais encore,
C’est quelqu’un qui m’a dit que tu m’aimais encore.
Serais ce possible alors ?
On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu’il ne nous donne rien et qu’il nous promet tout
Parais qu’le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit …
Refrain
Mais qui est ce qui m’a dit que toujours tu m’aimais?
Je ne me souviens plus c’était tard dans la nuit,
J’entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
“Il vous aime, c’est secret, lui dites pas que j’vous l’ai dit”
Tu vois quelqu’un m’a dit…
Que tu m’aimais encore, me l’a t’on vraiment dit…
Que tu m’aimais encore, serais ce possible alors ?
On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
Que de nos tristesses il s’en fait des manteaux,
Pourtant quelqu’un m’a dit que…
Refrain
I’ve been thinking a lot about vegetables lately (speaking of which, today I made fun of a mental patient, cuz that’s how I roll). No, really. I have been thinking a lot about vegetables. Must be a vitamin imbalance or my blood alcohol level has dropped too low or something. Yeah, that’ll be it.
Tonight, I am thinking of sugar snap peas, otherwise known as mangetout.
Specifically, I am thinking of this: Why, when they are called mangetout, do you only mange part of them? Perhaps ella can enlighten me.
Yes, yet another self-referential blog post. After all, what else is there for me to talk about but…you know…me? I’m an expert on me. I know me backwards and forwards, inside and out (or at least I do since I saw that CAT scan) upside and down.
In Bizarro World, raincoaster falls asleep every night promptly at a reasonable hour, beside one of: Viggo Mortensen, Johnny Depp, Steve Jobs, James Tiberius Kirk, Henry V as played by Kenneth Branagh, Michael Lewis, or Sebastian Junger; the bed is stuffed with fluffy, fluffy Krugerrands, and the nightgown is carved from one solid, flawless diamond. Ah, for a life of ease!
In Bizarro World, raincoaster works for Vanity Fair, or rather VF publishes old blog posts of mine, with the YouTubes embedded right in the glossy pages using special technology developed just for me.
And, most importantly, in Bizarro World raincoaster is profiled by Vanity Fair.
The raincoaster Proust Questionnaire:
1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Uh, didn’t you READ the post?
2. What is your greatest fear?
Server problems. If a blog falls in the forest and nobody’s subscribed to the RSS feed…
3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Modesty. I’ve almost completely succeeded in eradicating it, but not quite.
4. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
An inability to recognize my awesomenosity
5. Which living person do you most admire?
Besides myself?
6. What is your greatest extravagance?
Gin. My liver has a vested interest in keeping me poor and sober.
7. What is your current state of mind?
Fried. This getting up in the MORNING is for the birds. Right, birds wake up early. Birds eat worms. Therefore, getting up early sucks.
8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Getting up early, duh. Haven’t you been reading?
9. On what occasion do you lie?
When the truth would give a falsely modest impression of my awesomenosity. It just wouldn’t be fair.
10. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
My tentacles will NOT stay combed.
11. Which living person do you most despise?
Is Thatcher still alive? Bush? The guy who cancelled M.A.S.H.? WHY MUST THESE QUESTIONS BE SO HARD?
12. What is the quality you most like in a man?
The ability to be Viggo Mortensen.
13. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
The ability not to get between me and Viggo Mortensen.
14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Me, Myself and I would like you to define “overuse.”
15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
Again, I am forced to ask haven’t you been reading this?
16. When and where were you happiest?
Any day now.
17. Which talent would you most like to have?
The ability to fake sincerity.
18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My socks. And if you were sitting beside me, you wouldn’t need to ask why.
19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Earning the good home-maker badge and the whatchamacallit, housewife emblem, in Girl Guides, thus proving once and for all that I can do ANYTHING.
20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
The vindictive joke of a malevolent god, that’s what me coming back would be. The fucker.
21. Where would you most like to live?
Olympus. Failing that, Not-Ucluelet.
22. What is your most treasured possession?
My self-possession, obviously!
23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
No Followers.
24. What is your favorite occupation?
What are you hiring for, big fella?
25. What is your most marked characteristic?
Did you read this one?
26. What do you most value in your friends?
The ability to buy me drinks at the Heather.
27. Who are your favorite writers?
The ones who buy me drinks, and not just what they’re having.
28. Who is your hero of fiction?
I’d say Caspian the Tenth, King of Narnia, but he’s not fictional.
29. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Myself.
30. Who are your heroes in real life?
See #27
31. What are your favorite names?
Robin, Anastasia, Skippy the Klingon
32. What is it that you most dislike?
Blogathons
33. What is your greatest regret?
Volunteering to do this blogathon without laying in an adequate supply of gin and/or z’s.
34. How would you like to die?
Vindicated. Stole that one from Fran Lebowitz, but how could I not?
35. What is your motto?
49 degrees latitude, 360 degrees attitude!
This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!
No, seriously. Think about it. She’s got John‘s money and no particular need to be the ruling Rock Widow of Our Times, which goes to Courtney Love on sheer batshit-insane points. Sure, Yoko‘s meaner, and she’s smarter, and she’ll outlive Courtney by a good twenty years, but it’s time she moved on. Time she found a new man.
Time she found this man.
via WOWReport
William Lamson is clearly both deeply artistic and strange to the pink, gooey core. Check out his site: my particular favorite video is “Monument Valley Flight Attempt” but one has to come to it with preparation. One has to be ready. One has to wait it out, all two minutes, forty-one seconds of it. There IS no punchline. It, itself, IS the punchline. Or is the viewer?
Or the reader of this blog?
raincoaster 