How shopping made me lose my marbles
I do like shopping but not at the same time as everybody else. It all starts at home. I am frantingly looking for that last slice of bread which is not too stale or too moldy. Just when I found one that has not yet gone the same color as my lawn I realise that I have nothing to put on it. Some eggs but I think they are about to hatch a dodo because I do not know how long they are there yet and that is it...
It's 11 pm and all I have is a not-so-green piece of bread an almost empty jar of jam and a baby dodo....all the shops are closed and the only ones that are actually open are these so called "night shops"...Especially designed for people like me...hungry, cold and alone in a kitchen. I went to one once...big mistake...I thought I was in St-Tropez or some other place where the jet-setting crowd lives.... Not because it was so beautiful that Versailles looks like a garden shed after a nuclear attack but because of the prices... How come hungry people at night are seen as stupid? Do they really expect me to pay 8 million Euro for a jar of jam the size of that tiny guy of Big Brother? I do not even have a small enough spoon to get to the jam in the first place...a loaf of bread...also astronomical...I wonder if they sell by the slice...
And the reason why I am being ripped off at night is old people....Whenever I try to go to a shop during normal hours the place is packed with old folk. Now before I go along, I do like old folk...really...especially when they are all in 1 place...I think it's called old folks home or something...Old folk don't move like Michael Jackson, even not now he is dead they don't move like Michael Jackson...Just to say they are slow... After a long day all I want is to pop into the shop, whiz around with that lovely trolley which has 4 wheels, all with a mind of their own making the thing harder to control then a moon landing buggy driven by a monkey juggling 5 flaming hamsters.
When you finally learn to control the thing all you want is to speed up, throw a loaf of bread into it, find a decent size jar of jam and get out of there... No go...why? 2 Reasons. Firstly the nice old folk...while using the trolley as a free walker they tend to stop unexpectedly almost causing you to create a pile-up in isle 7. Then they start reading the label of whatever they would like to eat only to find that the last E something something causes them to have an animated night filled with gas and trips to the bathroom...So they trot along. All that time you were standing behind them, blocked in front by a reader and behind you, guess...another one who found something to read...
At an end of an isle I usually try to make a run for it and on autopilot I go left, right and left again....only to bring myself to reason 2 why a shopping trip is never just a whiz around.... After the autopilot move I look up only to find myself between the big-ladies underpants....Why? Because the nice Marketing people found it funny to move the bread to the other part of the shop..again.. It's like landing on that "go to jail" spot at the Monopoly game...you try to avoid every difficulty on your journey and with 1 role of the dice you are back to square 1. For me it was again queuing behind old folk reading labels and making a run for it, this time in the opposite direction.
When finally, you are happy that you got your loaf of bread and your jam and you did not park that out of control trolley into a "buy 18 get 1 free" custard can pyramid and decide to stroll to the register. But what do you see there, always to my disbelieve...the same old folk in front of you as the ones you so frantingly were trying to outrun in the shop... Counting those microscopic copper euro coins as if their lives depend on it, only to find after 15 minutes of counting and re-counting with the friendly shop lady, they can't eat beans after all and wonder off without actually having bought a thing...
And that ladies and gentlemen is how shopping made me lose my marbles,
vrijdag 30 april 2010
donderdag 29 april 2010
How Politics made me lose my marbles
I live in Belgium...
I know, famous for its' chocolate, beer, peodofiles both cleric and non-cleric...yes we have the whole range.... woohoo.......and recently for carnival politics....
Let me explain the last. For you guys not so familiar with Belgium, it's located below Amsterdam: prostitutes and marihuana and above Luxembourg: tax-haven. The part closest to the prostitutes we call Flanders and we speak Dutch...the part closest to the place without prostitutes is called Wallonië, they speak French.
These are the major differences but by far not all because in the North, we work, have a gazillion speedcamera's, have a beach, pay for upkeep of the South, have a sence of humor...in the South well...non of the above but they have rocks with trees on which they call mountains and where they kill wild boars and make pate out of them.... a kind of meat spread for on a sandwich...tasty if you like wild boar taste....
Our politicians trying to keep this plot of prime development land as 1 country. Better said, are trying to keep as 1 country because they otherwise would be out of a job and most of them are even too stupid to shoot a wild boar in the South.......
Only the other day our prime minister Mr Leterme tripped once more over his election victory dated 2007, he then won the elections stating, "only 5 minutes of courage would be needed to split Brussel-Halle-Vilvoorde (BHV)". I should explain, BHV is a patch of land where both Flemish people and Wallon people are trying to leave their mark. Kind of like doggs...they piss on it all the time to mark it as theirs.... sometimes they piss on each other and then we have elections...
5 minutes of courage turned out to be almost 3 years of brutal agony... and as a result Leterme I and now also II will go into Belgium's history books as a 1 grey and a half black page. He will be learning to shoot wild boars in the South soon.
When writing this blogg meetings are still going on on how the agenda will look like to set a meeting that will determine the agenda of the meeting on the elections...lost? wait you will be...for the meeting of the agenda of the pre-meeting of the king.
Yes we have a king too... He is only an old guy in a large house, for us people in the North that is...for the people in the South he is like the pope or that Oracle in Greece...all knowing and holy... We give him money...let me rephrase...he takes our hard-urned cash without asking and spends it on yachts, helicopters for his son and some eyeliner for his wife....
That is the king taken care off. Now, new elections will be necesary to get us out of yet another North-South difference.... Some say..."split Belgium"... others say "NON"... bottom line is we will have new elections and it will make no difference at all because politicians in the North do not want to go boar shooting in the South and politicians in the South can only shoot boar and we do not have that in the North....
And in the meantime the king and all of the politicians are partying with my hard-urned cash like it's carnival in Rio.
And that ladies and gentlemen is how politics made me lose my marbles...
I know, famous for its' chocolate, beer, peodofiles both cleric and non-cleric...yes we have the whole range.... woohoo.......and recently for carnival politics....
Let me explain the last. For you guys not so familiar with Belgium, it's located below Amsterdam: prostitutes and marihuana and above Luxembourg: tax-haven. The part closest to the prostitutes we call Flanders and we speak Dutch...the part closest to the place without prostitutes is called Wallonië, they speak French.
These are the major differences but by far not all because in the North, we work, have a gazillion speedcamera's, have a beach, pay for upkeep of the South, have a sence of humor...in the South well...non of the above but they have rocks with trees on which they call mountains and where they kill wild boars and make pate out of them.... a kind of meat spread for on a sandwich...tasty if you like wild boar taste....
Our politicians trying to keep this plot of prime development land as 1 country. Better said, are trying to keep as 1 country because they otherwise would be out of a job and most of them are even too stupid to shoot a wild boar in the South.......
Only the other day our prime minister Mr Leterme tripped once more over his election victory dated 2007, he then won the elections stating, "only 5 minutes of courage would be needed to split Brussel-Halle-Vilvoorde (BHV)". I should explain, BHV is a patch of land where both Flemish people and Wallon people are trying to leave their mark. Kind of like doggs...they piss on it all the time to mark it as theirs.... sometimes they piss on each other and then we have elections...
5 minutes of courage turned out to be almost 3 years of brutal agony... and as a result Leterme I and now also II will go into Belgium's history books as a 1 grey and a half black page. He will be learning to shoot wild boars in the South soon.
When writing this blogg meetings are still going on on how the agenda will look like to set a meeting that will determine the agenda of the meeting on the elections...lost? wait you will be...for the meeting of the agenda of the pre-meeting of the king.
Yes we have a king too... He is only an old guy in a large house, for us people in the North that is...for the people in the South he is like the pope or that Oracle in Greece...all knowing and holy... We give him money...let me rephrase...he takes our hard-urned cash without asking and spends it on yachts, helicopters for his son and some eyeliner for his wife....
That is the king taken care off. Now, new elections will be necesary to get us out of yet another North-South difference.... Some say..."split Belgium"... others say "NON"... bottom line is we will have new elections and it will make no difference at all because politicians in the North do not want to go boar shooting in the South and politicians in the South can only shoot boar and we do not have that in the North....
And in the meantime the king and all of the politicians are partying with my hard-urned cash like it's carnival in Rio.
And that ladies and gentlemen is how politics made me lose my marbles...
Jabba The Hut made me lose my marbles
Ever been in a hurry and stopped in your tracks by roadworks...?
Then this is right up your alley....
I was motoring along at an agreeable cruzing speed when the first sign, litteraly, appeared that I might sit longer in the car then I really would want. A sign we all know, a little black guy, I am not being racist here, he was painted in black... with a shovel and next to him a pile of some more black paint.... But that was not what caught my eye...it was a large dod and a humming sound about 40m in front of me, kind of dumbo meets a bumble bee.... I was closing in rapidly and my fears became true. Not only had I stumbled on roadworks with only 1 narrow lane available, I was now also stuck behind Jabba The Hut on a mopet...not muppet...mopet (small motorbike...) Jabba The Hut on a muppet is the "after dark" version of this blog...
Really...this guy was so fat that I thought: "dude, you better not move around a lot because 5 million people in China will have move just to keep this rock we are flying on in balance, otherwise we will be all flung into the sun...."
That humming noise came unmistakenly from the little engine that couldn't....smoking, wobbling, coughing...just my aunty at Christmas...and on top of it...Jabba The Hut....To be clear..Jabba The Hutt does not do the horizontal monkey with my aunt at Christmas, she is just wobbly etc....
I started to zig-zag a bit to see if I could see the end of the misery...but apparently the car behind me thought I was swerving to avoid potholes or something and he joined in.....funny...where it not that due to Jabba's fat ass I could not see a thing....
Talking about fat ass....One thing I could see was Jabba's buttcrack...looking at me as it was trying to say "hello... I am a buttcrack"....well....what else would a buttcrack say...? It was a long time ago I last saw a crack like that..I think it was on Discovery Chanel.....The Grand Canyon Special....I wanted to throw up so bad from looking into that guy's rear-end....I could see what he had for breakfast.. and I really throw up violently from buttermilk pancakes...which I could clearly see he had....
Then it happened, a bridge ...now I have to say we were doing 40Km/h and looking at that mopet it could not handle much more going up that bridge...and I was right...my speedometer counted...40..39... etc all the way to F#ing 30.... my jaw dropped in disbelieve..I could accelerate with my shin....
All of a sudden his head dropped a bit and his back arched...I thought the guy got a heart-attack but nooooo...he was trying to be "aerodynamic"....ever seen a hippo crouch when trying to run...No? well...this did not help the guy either....still 30.....And with all that back-arching going on his buttcrack became even larger..I had to clench my jaws not to throw up all over the dash...The guy's ass looked like the Eurotunnel...complete with departing train...If you know what I mean......
Anyway..I could see we were over the worst part as my speedo went back to a I-will-not-shoot-myself-through-the-head 37 km/h. Unfortunately his mopet only barely survived the trip uphill..only 2 wheels and a tail light were showing...the rest moved so far up his sweaty ass I could not see it anymore...
Finally, after I had seriously thought about crashing my car into a brick wall, he went to 1 side of the lane...was it indeed a heart-attack, did his mopet die? I could not care less....the road was mine..ALL MINE I TELL YOU...hahahahha...
and that ladies and gentlemen is how Jabba The Hut made me lose my marbles....
Then this is right up your alley....
I was motoring along at an agreeable cruzing speed when the first sign, litteraly, appeared that I might sit longer in the car then I really would want. A sign we all know, a little black guy, I am not being racist here, he was painted in black... with a shovel and next to him a pile of some more black paint.... But that was not what caught my eye...it was a large dod and a humming sound about 40m in front of me, kind of dumbo meets a bumble bee.... I was closing in rapidly and my fears became true. Not only had I stumbled on roadworks with only 1 narrow lane available, I was now also stuck behind Jabba The Hut on a mopet...not muppet...mopet (small motorbike...) Jabba The Hut on a muppet is the "after dark" version of this blog...
Really...this guy was so fat that I thought: "dude, you better not move around a lot because 5 million people in China will have move just to keep this rock we are flying on in balance, otherwise we will be all flung into the sun...."
That humming noise came unmistakenly from the little engine that couldn't....smoking, wobbling, coughing...just my aunty at Christmas...and on top of it...Jabba The Hut....To be clear..Jabba The Hutt does not do the horizontal monkey with my aunt at Christmas, she is just wobbly etc....
I started to zig-zag a bit to see if I could see the end of the misery...but apparently the car behind me thought I was swerving to avoid potholes or something and he joined in.....funny...where it not that due to Jabba's fat ass I could not see a thing....
Talking about fat ass....One thing I could see was Jabba's buttcrack...looking at me as it was trying to say "hello... I am a buttcrack"....well....what else would a buttcrack say...? It was a long time ago I last saw a crack like that..I think it was on Discovery Chanel.....The Grand Canyon Special....I wanted to throw up so bad from looking into that guy's rear-end....I could see what he had for breakfast.. and I really throw up violently from buttermilk pancakes...which I could clearly see he had....
Then it happened, a bridge ...now I have to say we were doing 40Km/h and looking at that mopet it could not handle much more going up that bridge...and I was right...my speedometer counted...40..39... etc all the way to F#ing 30.... my jaw dropped in disbelieve..I could accelerate with my shin....
All of a sudden his head dropped a bit and his back arched...I thought the guy got a heart-attack but nooooo...he was trying to be "aerodynamic"....ever seen a hippo crouch when trying to run...No? well...this did not help the guy either....still 30.....And with all that back-arching going on his buttcrack became even larger..I had to clench my jaws not to throw up all over the dash...The guy's ass looked like the Eurotunnel...complete with departing train...If you know what I mean......
Anyway..I could see we were over the worst part as my speedo went back to a I-will-not-shoot-myself-through-the-head 37 km/h. Unfortunately his mopet only barely survived the trip uphill..only 2 wheels and a tail light were showing...the rest moved so far up his sweaty ass I could not see it anymore...
Finally, after I had seriously thought about crashing my car into a brick wall, he went to 1 side of the lane...was it indeed a heart-attack, did his mopet die? I could not care less....the road was mine..ALL MINE I TELL YOU...hahahahha...
and that ladies and gentlemen is how Jabba The Hut made me lose my marbles....
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