Smorgasbord, schmorgasbord

To keep the Africa blues at bay we thought we'd book cheap flights to somewhere in europe, so it was all about closing your eyes and pointing at the map of Europe - except that it's more like check out ryanair and see what are the cheapest flights you can get - the winner ladies and gentleman was Stockholm. Ah yes, the land of the Swedes - and I'm not talking about turnips or swedish people here, i'm talking about The Swedes - hello, Abba anyone? yeah. Turned out that while the flights were cheap, everything else was OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE. Yes I needed to utilise my Caps buttons since it was OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE. Think £100 for the cheapest room you can find in a hotel. Forget hotel, hostels themselves were working out at £35 per person in a dorm! Get real... Guess it was because we chose to go there in August, during the UK's bank holiday weekend. Anyway, we had to try and forget the costs and enjoy ourselves. So we booked into a studio in a suburb, since staying in the centre was crazy expensive. I mean - EXPENSIVE. Otherwise it was all good good, except the Swedes, and I mean swedish people, as opposed to Abba, were not the most you know, um, whats the word, friendly? forthcoming? interesting? I think they're a fairly reserved lot, unless they are drinking. Also we decided to go for the smorgasbord, i mean when else in your life are you going to be eating a smorgasbord, and splashed out at the smorgasbord experience at the Grand Hotel. But it's only when we were there, not thinking about the £100 we were spending on our dinner, that I realised, I actually really don't like herring - and smorgasbord is all about herring. Poached herring, pickled herring, herring in mustard, herring in pesto, herring in vinegar, herring in a hat and coat wearing a monocle singing hello my baby, hello my darling, hello my ragtime dooolll - no that's the frog from the Looney Toons cartoons. After a few mouthfuls of herring i was feeling rather ill, so I spent my £100 swedish dinner experience eating - crackers. Nice. Oh well. At least it got us out of London and Notting Hill carnival madness - nice to arrive home and see that it was all mostly cleared away - aside from the dried vomit and smell of urine emanating from every doorway - which reminds me of the first time I spent the Notting Hill carnival, watching the action from our balcony when a guy walked past and asked if he could piss in our doorway - yeah at least he asked, and when we said, uh, no, he just pulled down his pants along with his girlfriend and they just did their business right there in front of everyone to see. Now that is NICE.

Whats going on?

So did you hear? Apparently there's a war on. Sorry, which war are you referring to specifically, you may ask? Exactly, is what I would say. Like what the fuck is going on? A woman having a panic attack on a plane is suspected of being a terrorist. Some idiot writes something about Al Qaeda on a sick bag and the plane is being escorted by Fighter jets and making an emergency landing. A woman carrying a moisturiser and a bottle of water is thought to be a terrorist just because she was Asian in appearance and getting on a flight in Hicksville USA where they aren't used to seeing them there coloured folk. And then yesterday a whole planeful of passengers, YES, an entire planeful of passengers refused to fly because two of the passengers were Middle Eastern in appearance. Can you believe it? Yes, here, in the UK, this very thing happened. Not Hicksville, although Manchester... well I can't comment, but from what I hear about the city, it aint all good, and yes so the plane was Monarch, and it was going to Malaga... But still... And then these innocent men, not only had to suffer that humiliation, but had to be taken off the plane, put through interrogation by the Police and then had to be cleared to fly, just because of the paranoia of some, narrow-minded, xenophobic Middle-Englanders. Should've left all complainers on the ground and flown with just the two middle eastern men on board living it up. See ya suckers! They would've shouted as they left.... Yeah, in another life maybe.

Little Jonny goes on the tube

Little Jonny and his mother enter the tube. Little Jonny is probably no more than 4 years of age, his mother is a rather prim and proper lady who probably hankers for the day ladies wore gloves and spent their days crocheting and gentleman wore hats and threw down their jackets for any ladies about to cross puddles. There are lots of empty seats on the tube but Little Jonny and his mother don't sit on any. Instead they stand unsteadily, not holding on to anything as the train starts to rumble forward. Slightly wrong footed Jonny leans forward to grab on to a hand rail.
Mother: No! I said you were not to touch anything on the tube!
Jonny: But..
Mother: It's dirty! Do you know how dirty it is? You don't know whose touched what...
Jonny: OK...
The train jolts. Jonny is pushed forward and attempts to grab the seat.
Mother: All sorts of people sit on these seats. We dont know where they've been. A lot of them dont even wash their hands.
She then pulls out a wet wipe and starts to clean his hands. A few stops later they get off.

True tales of the underground, people.

I watched them incredulously and wondered about what kind of adult Little Jonny (most likely not his name) will grow up to be, and how much therapy he'll need before he can undo the damage his mother has inflicted on him. Poor boy. Sometimes I realise, it isn't too bad not being rich, don't think I could stand all that rich person's guilt to be honest.

Posh bikini wax

So Victoria Beckham was in my local bikini wax store - not that I've ever been there mind. I've just walked past it and thought about going in there to enquire about their prices (which as it turns out are outrageous by the way - £50 for stripping off a bit of hair from your nether region!). But my friend (who is a regular bikini waxer) was in there the other day, asking about what types of bikini waxes they offer (there are so many now the mind boggles) and the sales assistant was patiently explaining the different types to her (she ended up settling for a Hollywood - wax off! It all off that is), all the while Victoria Beckham is standing patiently behind her listening to every word. Apparently she's very thin and very orange. And there was a crowd of people outside the store staring in to catch a glimpse of Posh. Like why was she in there in the first place, yeah its Notting Hill but not the posh part, you know.
Anyway you bump into quite a few "celebrities" around here and this friend suggested I create a star map to Notting Hill to sell around Portobello road. Kind of like they do in LA you know. But uh, i dont think it'll translate. Does anyone want to know where Jude Law and Sienna miller go for a drink? Or where Damon Albarn rides his bike? Yawn.... God I must be so bored to be writing about Posh spice. My brain's still in Africa I think.

Weirdo art people

So I was thinking of joining this writers group that this girl (I'm assuming she's a girl) with the email address "artslut" was advertising. It sounded interesting and I sent her an email showing my interest and asked her about what she did (since after a few emails all I knew about her was that her initial was D). Like what her background was, and why she was interested in starting the writers group. I then told her about my writing background. Her response:
"About my background, etc: I have sent you all you need to know. I am not interested in plaudits; I don't want to see your CV or know what you've achieved. I am not hiring you for a job"
Whoa - yeah I want to be in a writers group lead by you lady! Yeah!!
I'm just thinking of what to respond to her.
Uh, I'm sorry, I thought I was writing to join the writers group, not apply to be a prison officer...
Or
You sound really scary, no thanks.

I dont know, she gives me the hibby jibbies so I probably wont respond with anything. I just deleted all her emails.

PHB

Gotta massive dose of PHB (post holiday blues) sleeping in your own bed just doesn't compare to camping out in the wild with hyenas scratching around your tent and lions roaring in the distance, or seeing the sunrise up in the Serengeti, or driving around for ages only to be rewarded with the sight of a pack of 15 or so lions lazing around a pool so close you could almost touch them and seeing baby lion cubs at play teasing each other and annoying their mum, or listening to waves lapping on a deserted island off Zanzibar, or snorkelling with a turtle as your companion... pooh reality sucks!