View allAll Photos Tagged ,Retching
Originally known as Sandy Lake Towers, this hotel started out as a retched Pepto-Bismol pink pair of buildings in a constant state of construction before being sold to another developer, finished, and renamed.
What's still BUBOO about these towers? Just about everything from the faux columns painted/cheaply stuccoed to the front to the selection of colors, and right now the clashing color schemes (it is supposed to be all blue, or all earth tones?). It is an eyesore among eyesores on the north end of International Drive in Orlando.
In spite of the name change and the color changes over the years, it's still BUBOO.
Orlando Sentinel Link: articles.orlandosentinel.com/2005-05-17/news/0505170177_1...
This photo is the beginning of a new Flickr collection, as well as a new blog of the same name. More to come...
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
It was the name that did it. The label on the bottle said Wootonga and I just had to investigate. It was only 5 euro and it had a 19 volt kick. Wootonga, Australian sweet sherry.
It might have been fine if I had drunk it in small amounts as an after dinner tipple, but I drank the whole bottle in one go, and for some unfathomable reason decided to eat a jar of Ahti raw baltic herring in a mustard sauce to go along with it. Anybody would have thought I was pregnant.
Logic should tell you that Australian Sweet Sherry and raw baltic herring in mustard sauce is not a good combination, but let me just say that the unusualness of the flavours, the mingling of the sweetness and the bitterness was sufficiently interesting that three-quarters of the wine was gone and almost all of the raw herring before the nausea began to creep into my throat.
Having started a project I was loathe to give up, so operating on the principle of a "hair of the dog that bite you" I downed the remaining glass of Wootonga in one gulp and observing some onion rings and black peppercorns remaining in the raw herring jar I ate them as well.
It was when the molars crunched through the peppercorns that the projectile vomiting started, and after the stomach was empty the dry retching continued. There is nothing worse than the taste of sour bile in your mouth... well in actual fact there is... Wootonga and raw herring.
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
white ibis on Clearwater Beach
Eudocimus albus
--------------------------------------------
Surfin' Bird
~ The Trashmen
A-well-a everybody's heard about the bird
B-b-b-bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, the bird is the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, well the bird is the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, well the bird is the word
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, well the bird is the word
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a don't you know about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a...
A-well-a everybody's heard about the bird
Bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a don't you know about the bird?
Well, everybody's talking about the bird!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
A-well-a bird...
Surfin' bird
Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb... [retching noises]... aaah!
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-oom-oom-oom
Oom-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-a-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Papa-oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Well don't you know about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
Wednesday
A day of rain.
And a trip to Newcastle.
Hmmmm, Newcastle.
We woke up at half seven, outside it was overcast with the promise of much rain through the day. We planned to go to Hexham to catch the train into the city, wander round, have lunch, take shots and come back. And it still sounded a good idea in the morning. So, after breakfast, we gathered our stuff, our new waterproof jackets and walking boots, packed the car and set off down the valley to Hexham.
There is an even more local station nearer the cottage, but only has a two-hourly service through the day. A 15 minute drive to Hexham opens the possibility of half hourly trains, if we got bored in the city.
Two pounds to park the car all day outside the station, seven quid for a return ticket. A cheap day it seemed.
We had timed it just right, and 5 minutes after arriving, our train, a class 156, pulled up and we all got on for the half hour trundle into town. The line runs beside the river Tyne, and is very picturesque, even from a rattly diesel DMU.
We pulled into Newcastle, over Stephenson’s high level bridge, with glorious views over the river and city. It had just begun to rain, but we were prepared.
Outside the station, we looked up the wide street in front, and I saw a memorial, which should mean there was a square, maybe the centre of the city, so we set off, dodging shoppers and waiting bus passengers. However, we were thirsty. And hungry. And seeing an Italian ice cream parlour, we go inside to have breakfast.
I order sausage roll and a coffee: Jools has quiche. And a coffee. Now, that we did not specify what kind of coffee we wanted should have meant we got a cup of filter. Or so we thought. But what we did get was a cup of milky coffee, the kind that my parents used to drink, made with almost all hot milk, and horrible.
I tried to tell myself this was some kind of retro food experience, but my main thought was to drink it as soon as possible before a skin formed on the top, which would have made me retch.
Further up the street, we saw a sign saying ‘central arcade’; we thought it looked interesting and went in. Just as well we did, as inside it was decorated with splendid tiles, in a fine art deco fashion. In admiring them, we caught the attention of a woman, who engaged us in conversation. Turns out she was a guide, and for four pounds each would take us on a 90 minute tour round the city.
Sounded fair to us, so we paid, and our guide explained the history of the arcade and the surrounding area, all gentrified in the 1830s, which so resembled fine Parisian boulevards. It was a wonderful area, and the style, Tyne Gothic was very nice and almost chic. It has been renovated in recent times, and looks like it did when new, except for the pawnbrokers and other modern shops now occupying the ground floors.
We walk along a narrow alley past pubs and old workshops, our guide giving us history behind the buildings. The world's fattest man lived and died here, King Charles 1st had dinner there. And so on. Until we came to Bigg Market.....
Bigg Market is where the young Geordie goes to have fun, or used to; according to our guide. It is not as popular as it once was, as many now go down to the Riverside. And Bigg Market is to be 'redeveloped'. So, this may be the last chances to see some of these fine old buildings, some of which now have demolition orders against them. All things must change. Apparently.
From Bigg Market, we walked to The Black Gate, the old main entrance to the city, then onto the New Castle, which gives the city it's name.
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
From reddit user StupidDogCoffee:
The Cookie Crew
"Alright, guys, this is the plan." The dim light filtering into the old shed illuminated the map as Roxi, a brown and white terrier, unrolled it with her paw.
Ringo, the nimble australian shepherd, cocked his head to the side as he studied the crude diagram. He pointed with his nose as he spoke, "So I assume that this is the front door," he pointed to another area on the map, "and this looks like the back porch."
"No no no!" Roxi spun around in frustration. "That's the bedroom," she said, "and that is the kitchen."
Buzz, an overweight chocolate lab, was chewing on his butt while Roxi spoke, which agitated her to no end.
"Dognabbit, you big galoot," she said, "pay attention. This is important." She darted forward and gave him a light nip on his flank.
Buzz shrunk back with a cowed look, but she had his attention now. "I'm sorry, Roxi." he said. His eyes searched the shed, but he could find no clues. "Umm, what were we doing again?"
Roxi sat down and sighed, while Ringo tried and failed to hold in a chuckle. She looked Buzz in the eyes and spoke in a slow and clear voice. "The cookies, Buzz. For the fifth time, we're going to take the cookie jar." It wasn't really the fifth time. In fact, this was the first time she had mentioned the plan to Buzz, but she liked to exaggerate things.
Buzz's ears perked up and his eyes shone. "Treats? We're going to get treats?" His tail was wagging so hard that he could barely keep his back feet on the ground. "I like treats."
"Yes, stupid. Now try and pay attention. We need your help for the plan to work."
A glob of drool rolled out of the side of Buzz's mouth as he sat up straight and tried to look as dignified as possible. "Ok. I'll be good, I promise."
"Good boy." Roxi gave buzz a wary look out of the corner of her eye before going back to the map. They spent twenty minutes going over the plan in detail before Roxi ordered Buzz to eat the map and they set their plan in action.
......
They didn't have much time to carry out the plan. It was essential for them to act while Daddy was at work and Mommy was home alone.
While Buzz prepared by munching on grass and Roxi practiced her jumps, Ringo went up to the back door and scratched at it, just as planned. When Mommy came up to the door he gave her his very best 'poor me' expression and let out a soft whine.
Mommy sighed and opened the door. "Fine," she said, "You can come in. After he had trotted into the house she stuck her head into the back yard and called out for the other dogs. They appeared to be playing and didn't seem to want in. She shut the door and went back to her desk. Ringo licked her hand and she gave him a scratch on the head before he wandered off to the dining room, right off of the kitchen. He waved his tail in front of the window to signal Roxi before taking his position under the dining table.
When she saw Ringo's signal, Roxi directed Buzz to lay on the porch beside the door then went into a barking frenzy. Mommy looked out the door and saw Roxi jumping up at the big oak tree in the corner of the yard, barking like it was full of murderous pirates. She opened the door and called out, "Cut it out, Roxi." but the little dog was paying her no mind.
It wasn't like Roxi to bark like that for nothing, so she went out into the yard to investigate. While she approached and looked up into the tree, expecting to see a cat or something up there, Buzz slipped into the house, his stomach already rumbling from all the grass he had eaten, and took his position on the sofa while ringo started to nose a dining room chair into the kitchen. When he had the chair in position he looked up at the cookie jar on top of the fridge and gave a low bark, not quite loud enough for Mommy to hear from outside, but enough for Roxi's sensitive ears to pick up
On hearing Ringo's signoal, Roxi stopped barking and sat down, looking up at Mommy with an expression that seemed to say "Aren't you proud of me for chasing off that nasty deathmonster?"
Mommy just rolled her eyes and shook her head before turning back towards the house. "Come on, Roxi," she said, "let's go inside."
Ringo and Buzz watched carefully as they came inside, but Roxi was good. She jumped around playfully as Mommy shut the door to keep her attention away from the out-of-place chair by the kitchen counter. Mommy gave Buzz a pat on the side as she passed and went back to her computer desk. Once Roxi was satisfied that Mommy's mind was back on her work, she went to join Ringo in the kitchen and they exchanged knowing nods then waited patiently for Buzz's signal.
They didn't have long to wait. Buzz sat up on the sofa as his upset stomach set off the alarm bells in his body. He started to cough, then gag, and Mommy immediately jumped up. "Oh no," she said "not on the sofa!" She grabbed Buzz by the collar and attempted to drag him off the sofa, but he refused to budge.
While this was going on Ringo hopped up onto the chair, then onto the counter next to the fridge. Roxi was right behind him. When they heard Buzz retch up a steaming pile of green goo and Mommy exclaim "Oh god! No... Buzz, why the sofa?" Roxi made her move. She hopped up onto Ringo's shoulder's and held on as he stood on his hind legs with his paws against the fridge, bringing Roxi closer to the prize. Roxi made sure of her footing then made one nimble jump up onto the fridge. Her tail wagged as she pawed the top off of the jar, being careful to catch it in her mouth and set it down to not make too much noise.
As buzz continued to retch in the other room and Mommy scrambled to the bathroom, cursing under her breath, to fetch the cleaning supplies, Roxi looked down into the jar, her mouth watering. The plan was for her to tip over the jar and spill the bounty of dog cookies to the floor below, then she would climb down across Ringo's back and the two of them would scramble to hide the cookies around the house while Mommy was busy cleaning up Buzz's mess. Everything was going according to plan, even Buzz had managed to remember exactly what he was supposed to do.
Ringo could sense her hesitation, and he gave her a light whine as he looked up at her. Roxi looked down at him from her perch then back to the cookie jar. It was a big jar, but split three ways there would be only a handfull of cookies for each of them. Besides, Buzz was almost certain to eat more than his fair share, he had a bottomless appetite. As she pondered her choices a drop of saliva dribbled off her chin and splashed on the treats in the jar. She looked down at Ringo and whispered "I'm sorry." before turning her back to him and sticking her head in the jar.
As she gorged herself on the cookies, gulping them down as fast as she could, the look on Ringo's face went from one of hurt and betrayal to one of anger. Roxi always underestimated the other dogs, but Ringo knew that he was a very smart dog, and a Good Boy to boot. Mommy and Daddy always told him so. He gave Roxi a brief, angry growl, but she was too engrossed in her feast to notice his protests, so he took action.
Ringo hopped down to the floor and, while Mommy was still busy dealing with Buzz's mess, he pushed the chair away from the counter and back towards the dining table. He returned to the foot of the fridge and looked up. Roxi's head was still buried in the jar as she greedily gulped down cookie after cookie. He gave one sharp, loud bark and Roxi looked up, crumbs falling out of her mouth. She gave him a sharp look, but her annoyance soon turned to fear, it was a long way down to the slippery stone counter, and longer still to the hard tile floor below. If she jumped down now she knew that she risked serious injury.
She looked down at Ringo, as if to ask why he had betrayed her, but he just grinned up at her and barked again, louder this time.
"What now?" said Mommy, obviously flustered. "You two had better not be getting into trouble."
Roxi swallowed the wad of cookie in her mouth and cowered down. Her saliva suddenly dried up and she looked once again to Ringo for help. He just grinned up at her with a satisfied smile, his tail wagging. She heard Mommy's footsteps approaching fast and she knew, in that moment, that she was a Very Bad Dog.
Phyllis Nan Sortain Pechey, better known as Fanny Cradock, was an English restaurant critic, television cook and writer frequently appearing on television, at cookery demonstrations and in print with Major Johnnie Cradock who played the part of a slightly bumbling husband.
As a result of 'The Big Time' TV show Fanny alienated the public, lost her contract with the BBC and became fair game for a drubbing by the media, which revealed that she and Major Cradock were not married.
In 1976 a housewife in Devon, Gwen Troake, won a competition called Cook of the Realm, leading to the BBC selecting her to organise a banquet to be attended by Edward Heath, Earl Mountbatten of Burma and other VIPs. The BBC filmed the result as part of a series called The Big Time, and asked Fanny Cradock, by then a tax exile in Ireland, to act as one of a number of experts giving Mrs Troake advice.
The result brought the end of Fanny Cradock's professional television career. Fanny, grimacing and acting as if on the verge of retching (Picture above from the TV Show) claimed not to know what a bramble was., She told Mrs Troake that her menu was too rich and insisted that it was not suitable, declaring, "You're among professionals now, dear." She also scorned Mrs Troake's use of an ingredient for being too "English", insisting that the English have never had their own cuisine, and that "even the good old Yorkshire pudding comes from Burgundy".
Robert Morley had also been consulted on the menu and said he felt that Mrs Troake's coffee pudding was perfect.
The public was annoyed that Fanny Cradock had seemingly ruined Mrs Troake's special day. Fanny wrote a letter of apology to Mrs Troake, but the BBC terminated her contract two weeks after the programme was broadcast. She never presented a cookery programme for the BBC again.
Speaking about the incident in 1999, The Big Time 's presenter Esther Rantzen described Cradock as "hell on wheels", and that she had "reduced this poor little lady [Troake] to nothing".
Fanny famously worked in various ball-gowns without the customary cook’s apron, averring that women should feel cooking was easy and enjoyable, rather than messy and intimidating.
In her early anonymous role as a food critic, working with Major Cradock under the name of ‘Bon Viveur’, Fanny introduced the public to unusual dishes from France and Italy, popularising the pizza in England. She is also credited as the originator of the Prawn Cocktail. She and Johnny worked together on a touring cookery show, sponsored by the Gas Council, to show how gas could be used easily in the kitchen and as their fame increased, Fanny’s shows transferred to television, where she enjoyed 20 years of success.
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
A day of rain.
And a trip to Newcastle.
Hmmmm, Newcastle.
We woke up at half seven, outside it was overcast with the promise of much rain through the day. We planned to go to Hexham to catch the train into the city, wander round, have lunch, take shots and come back. And it still sounded a good idea in the morning. So, after breakfast, we gathered our stuff, our new waterproof jackets and walking boots, packed the car and set off down the valley to Hexham.
There is an even more local station nearer the cottage, but only has a two-hourly service through the day. A 15 minute drive to Hexham opens the possibility of half hourly trains, if we got bored in the city.
Two pounds to park the car all day outside the station, seven quid for a return ticket. A cheap day it seemed.
We had timed it just right, and 5 minutes after arriving, our train, a class 156, pulled up and we all got on for the half hour trundle into town. The line runs beside the river Tyne, and is very picturesque, even from a rattly diesel DMU.
We pulled into Newcastle, over Stephenson’s high level bridge, with glorious views over the river and city. It had just begun to rain, but we were prepared.
Outside the station, we looked up the wide street in front, and I saw a memorial, which should mean there was a square, maybe the centre of the city, so we set off, dodging shoppers and waiting bus passengers. However, we were thirsty. And hungry. And seeing an Italian ice cream parlour, we go inside to have breakfast.
I order sausage roll and a coffee: Jools has quiche. And a coffee. Now, that we did not specify what kind of coffee we wanted should have meant we got a cup of filter. Or so we thought. But what we did get was a cup of milky coffee, the kind that my parents used to drink, made with almost all hot milk, and horrible.
I tried to tell myself this was some kind of retro food experience, but my main thought was to drink it as soon as possible before a skin formed on the top, which would have made me retch.
Further up the street, we saw a sign saying ‘central arcade’; we thought it looked interesting and went in. Just as well we did, as inside it was decorated with splendid tiles, in a fine art deco fashion. In admiring them, we caught the attention of a woman, who engaged us in conversation. Turns out she was a guide, and for four pounds each would take us on a 90 minute tour round the city.
Sounded fair to us, so we paid, and our guide explained the history of the arcade and the surrounding area, all gentrified in the 1830s, which so resembled fine Parisian boulevards. It was a wonderful area, and the style, Tyne Gothic was very nice and almost chic. It has been renovated in recent times, and looks like it did when new, except for the pawnbrokers and other modern shops now occupying the ground floors.
We were shown the indoor market, the Theatre Royal, all the time heading down towards the river. We stop at The Black Gate, the old main entrance to the city, and next to it the Norman, or New, castle. I know that from the top fine views of trains arriving and leaving from the station could be had, and so I planned to return later in the day.
We walk down the old main road, the old Great North Road, as was, now a quit pedestrianised street, leading steeply down underneath two of the 5 bridges that cross the river. More history down there; merchants houses, where wharfs unloaded good from around the world, and just beyond, the once busy river.
That was the tour, we thanked the guide, and she said that along the river we would find many places to have lunch. We walked on, coming to a modern glass and steel building, a posh eateries and bar: looking at the menu, we both decide burgers were in order. So we go in, take a table, order drinks and our meal and watch the people. It is graduation at the university, and many people are in gowns, joyful with their friends and families, out celebrating their degrees and awards.
Our burgers were good, as were the drinks; Jools has a margarita, which was OK, but strong. Once we finish, I leave Jools on a bench as I cross the blinking bridge to snap the views along the river.
As the rain falls again, we walk back up the hill to the castle: I buy a ticket and go straight to the roof of the keep to snap the trains. But no Flying Scotsmen or Deltics this day, just the usual class 91, now rebranded to Branson’s Virgin company.
----------------------------------------------------
The Gateshead Millennium Bridge is a pedestrian and cyclist tilt bridge spanning the River Tyne in England between Gateshead's Quays arts quarter on the south bank, and the Quayside of Newcastle upon Tyne on the north bank. Opened for public use in 2001, the award-winning structure was conceived and designed by architect Wilkinson Eyre and structural engineer Gifford.[1] The bridge is sometimes referred to as the 'Blinking Eye Bridge'[2] or the 'Winking Eye Bridge'[3] due to its shape and its tilting method. In terms of height, the Gateshead Millennium Bridge is slightly shorter than the neighbouring Tyne Bridge, and stands as the sixteenth tallest structure in the city.
The bridge was lifted into place in one piece by the Asian Hercules II,[4] one of the world's largest floating cranes, on 20 November 2000. It was opened to the public on 17 September 2001,[5] and was dedicated by Queen Elizabeth II on 7 May 2002.[6] The bridge, which cost £22m to build, was part funded by the Millennium Commission and European Regional Development Fund. It was built by Volker Stevin.[7]
Six 45 cm (18 in) diameter hydraulic rams (three on each side, each powered by a 55 kW electric motor) rotate the bridge back on large bearings to allow small ships and boats (up to 25 m (82 ft) tall) to pass underneath. The bridge takes as little as 4.5 minutes to rotate through the full 40° from closed to open, depending on wind speed. Its appearance during this manoeuvre has led to it being nicknamed the "Blinking Eye Bridge".[5]
The bridge has operated reliably since construction, opening to allow river traffic to pass. It also opens periodically for sightseers and for major events such as the Northumbrian Water University Boat Race and the Cutty Sark Tall Ships' Race. One of the principal requirements for opening the bridge is to allow access to HMS Calliope where Royal Navy patrol boat HMS Example is based.
The construction of the bridge won the architects Wilkinson Eyre the 2002 Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) Stirling Prize.[8] and won Gifford the 2003 IStructE Supreme Award.[9] In 2005, the bridge received the Outstanding Structure Award[10] from International Association for Bridge and Structural Engineering (IABSE).
Bollards, known as the Vessel Collision Protection System, were installed when the bridge was built to protect it from collisions. However, the bollards became unsightly, and it became noted that they were not really needed. They were removed in March 2012.[11]
Tilt times for the bridge are displayed both on the bridge itself, and also on a page on the Gateshead Council website.
Nothing beats a phone call from your long time friend asking for "a favor"...except a favor in 30° weather.
My long time friend Colt has been trying to sell his one of a kind custom fully built acura TL (see Colt's TL set). He struggled with finding someone wanting such a VIP style car in our retched town, but eventually found a willing candidate to trade for a sport bike, the all black 04 honda cbr 600rr.
Colt doesn't ride, (he's more of a 500hp v8 guy) but jumped at the opportunity to sell something a little bit more liquid, so he got the car to 'trade' value, removing his work vs-xx rims, bodykit, and other small customized pieces.
While they were working on the title work, I snuck the bike behind a church and tried to grab a few shots. 2pm isn't exactly my favorite time to shoot but i made it work. I forgot my tripod and my g/f drove my flashes / camera behind me so I just had to make due.
Shots were done mainly with the tamron 17-50 f2.8 with an nd8 filter set in AEB mode. The first shot was set to sync at 1/200 and fire the flashes (3 @ full power), while the second shot was set to 1/500ish to get the sky nice and dark. If i would've had a tripod it would've been much easier but they layered nicely. A few other edits were done once behind the computer but I really liked how this set turned out, as I'm afraid to shoot black cars / bikes and also shoot at such a 'bad' time of day.
I called this set "face your fears" because of the many obstacles on different levels it entailed...riding someone else's bike for one, riding it in freezing weather, shooting mid day, trying to light up a black vehicle, and the headaches we entail while dealing with purchasing or trading a new vehicle.
hope you all enjoy!
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
Front: Helen Fry, Marcia Mohre, Mark Miller, Alex Naton, David Plant
Back: Chad Peter, Sarah Bowling, Marv Retcher, Robyn Small, Richie Peters, Matt Gilroy, Jon Gathman, Jack Palmer
A day of rain.
And a trip to Newcastle.
Hmmmm, Newcastle.
We woke up at half seven, outside it was overcast with the promise of much rain through the day. We planned to go to Hexham to catch the train into the city, wander round, have lunch, take shots and come back. And it still sounded a good idea in the morning. So, after breakfast, we gathered our stuff, our new waterproof jackets and walking boots, packed the car and set off down the valley to Hexham.
There is an even more local station nearer the cottage, but only has a two-hourly service through the day. A 15 minute drive to Hexham opens the possibility of half hourly trains, if we got bored in the city.
Two pounds to park the car all day outside the station, seven quid for a return ticket. A cheap day it seemed.
We had timed it just right, and 5 minutes after arriving, our train, a class 156, pulled up and we all got on for the half hour trundle into town. The line runs beside the river Tyne, and is very picturesque, even from a rattly diesel DMU.
We pulled into Newcastle, over Stephenson’s high level bridge, with glorious views over the river and city. It had just begun to rain, but we were prepared.
Outside the station, we looked up the wide street in front, and I saw a memorial, which should mean there was a square, maybe the centre of the city, so we set off, dodging shoppers and waiting bus passengers. However, we were thirsty. And hungry. And seeing an Italian ice cream parlour, we go inside to have breakfast.
I order sausage roll and a coffee: Jools has quiche. And a coffee. Now, that we did not specify what kind of coffee we wanted should have meant we got a cup of filter. Or so we thought. But what we did get was a cup of milky coffee, the kind that my parents used to drink, made with almost all hot milk, and horrible.
I tried to tell myself this was some kind of retro food experience, but my main thought was to drink it as soon as possible before a skin formed on the top, which would have made me retch.
Further up the street, we saw a sign saying ‘central arcade’; we thought it looked interesting and went in. Just as well we did, as inside it was decorated with splendid tiles, in a fine art deco fashion. In admiring them, we caught the attention of a woman, who engaged us in conversation. Turns out she was a guide, and for four pounds each would take us on a 90 minute tour round the city.
Sounded fair to us, so we paid, and our guide explained the history of the arcade and the surrounding area, all gentrified in the 1830s, which so resembled fine Parisian boulevards. It was a wonderful area, and the style, Tyne Gothic was very nice and almost chic. It has been renovated in recent times, and looks like it did when new, except for the pawnbrokers and other modern shops now occupying the ground floors.
We were shown the indoor market, the Theatre Royal, all the time heading down towards the river. We stop at The Black Gate, the old main entrance to the city, and next to it the Norman, or New, castle. I know that from the top fine views of trains arriving and leaving from the station could be had, and so I planned to return later in the day.
We walk down the old main road, the old Great North Road, as was, now a quit pedestrianised street, leading steeply down underneath two of the 5 bridges that cross the river. More history down there; merchants houses, where wharfs unloaded good from around the world, and just beyond, the once busy river.
That was the tour, we thanked the guide, and she said that along the river we would find many places to have lunch. We walked on, coming to a modern glass and steel building, a posh eateries and bar: looking at the menu, we both decide burgers were in order. So we go in, take a table, order drinks and our meal and watch the people. It is graduation at the university, and many people are in gowns, joyful with their friends and families, out celebrating their degrees and awards.
Our burgers were good, as were the drinks; Jools has a margarita, which was OK, but strong. Once we finish, I leave Jools on a bench as I cross the blinking bridge to snap the views along the river.
As the rain falls again, we walk back up the hill to the castle: I buy a ticket and go straight to the roof of the keep to snap the trains. But no Flying Scotsmen or Deltics this day, just the usual class 91, now rebranded to Branson’s Virgin company.
----------------------------------------------------
The Gateshead Millennium Bridge is a pedestrian and cyclist tilt bridge spanning the River Tyne in England between Gateshead's Quays arts quarter on the south bank, and the Quayside of Newcastle upon Tyne on the north bank. Opened for public use in 2001, the award-winning structure was conceived and designed by architect Wilkinson Eyre and structural engineer Gifford.[1] The bridge is sometimes referred to as the 'Blinking Eye Bridge'[2] or the 'Winking Eye Bridge'[3] due to its shape and its tilting method. In terms of height, the Gateshead Millennium Bridge is slightly shorter than the neighbouring Tyne Bridge, and stands as the sixteenth tallest structure in the city.
The bridge was lifted into place in one piece by the Asian Hercules II,[4] one of the world's largest floating cranes, on 20 November 2000. It was opened to the public on 17 September 2001,[5] and was dedicated by Queen Elizabeth II on 7 May 2002.[6] The bridge, which cost £22m to build, was part funded by the Millennium Commission and European Regional Development Fund. It was built by Volker Stevin.[7]
Six 45 cm (18 in) diameter hydraulic rams (three on each side, each powered by a 55 kW electric motor) rotate the bridge back on large bearings to allow small ships and boats (up to 25 m (82 ft) tall) to pass underneath. The bridge takes as little as 4.5 minutes to rotate through the full 40° from closed to open, depending on wind speed. Its appearance during this manoeuvre has led to it being nicknamed the "Blinking Eye Bridge".[5]
The bridge has operated reliably since construction, opening to allow river traffic to pass. It also opens periodically for sightseers and for major events such as the Northumbrian Water University Boat Race and the Cutty Sark Tall Ships' Race. One of the principal requirements for opening the bridge is to allow access to HMS Calliope where Royal Navy patrol boat HMS Example is based.
The construction of the bridge won the architects Wilkinson Eyre the 2002 Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) Stirling Prize.[8] and won Gifford the 2003 IStructE Supreme Award.[9] In 2005, the bridge received the Outstanding Structure Award[10] from International Association for Bridge and Structural Engineering (IABSE).
Bollards, known as the Vessel Collision Protection System, were installed when the bridge was built to protect it from collisions. However, the bollards became unsightly, and it became noted that they were not really needed. They were removed in March 2012.[11]
Tilt times for the bridge are displayed both on the bridge itself, and also on a page on the Gateshead Council website.
A day of rain.
And a trip to Newcastle.
Hmmmm, Newcastle.
We woke up at half seven, outside it was overcast with the promise of much rain through the day. We planned to go to Hexham to catch the train into the city, wander round, have lunch, take shots and come back. And it still sounded a good idea in the morning. So, after breakfast, we gathered our stuff, our new waterproof jackets and walking boots, packed the car and set off down the valley to Hexham.
There is an even more local station nearer the cottage, but only has a two-hourly service through the day. A 15 minute drive to Hexham opens the possibility of half hourly trains, if we got bored in the city.
Two pounds to park the car all day outside the station, seven quid for a return ticket. A cheap day it seemed.
We had timed it just right, and 5 minutes after arriving, our train, a class 156, pulled up and we all got on for the half hour trundle into town. The line runs beside the river Tyne, and is very picturesque, even from a rattly diesel DMU.
We pulled into Newcastle, over Stephenson’s high level bridge, with glorious views over the river and city. It had just begun to rain, but we were prepared.
Outside the station, we looked up the wide street in front, and I saw a memorial, which should mean there was a square, maybe the centre of the city, so we set off, dodging shoppers and waiting bus passengers. However, we were thirsty. And hungry. And seeing an Italian ice cream parlour, we go inside to have breakfast.
I order sausage roll and a coffee: Jools has quiche. And a coffee. Now, that we did not specify what kind of coffee we wanted should have meant we got a cup of filter. Or so we thought. But what we did get was a cup of milky coffee, the kind that my parents used to drink, made with almost all hot milk, and horrible.
I tried to tell myself this was some kind of retro food experience, but my main thought was to drink it as soon as possible before a skin formed on the top, which would have made me retch.
Further up the street, we saw a sign saying ‘central arcade’; we thought it looked interesting and went in. Just as well we did, as inside it was decorated with splendid tiles, in a fine art deco fashion. In admiring them, we caught the attention of a woman, who engaged us in conversation. Turns out she was a guide, and for four pounds each would take us on a 90 minute tour round the city.
Sounded fair to us, so we paid, and our guide explained the history of the arcade and the surrounding area, all gentrified in the 1830s, which so resembled fine Parisian boulevards. It was a wonderful area, and the style, Tyne Gothic was very nice and almost chic. It has been renovated in recent times, and looks like it did when new, except for the pawnbrokers and other modern shops now occupying the ground floors.
We were shown the indoor market, the Theatre Royal, all the time heading down towards the river. We stop at The Black Gate, the old main entrance to the city, and next to it the Norman, or New, castle. I know that from the top fine views of trains arriving and leaving from the station could be had, and so I planned to return later in the day.
We walk down the old main road, the old Great North Road, as was, now a quit pedestrianised street, leading steeply down underneath two of the 5 bridges that cross the river. More history down there; merchants houses, where wharfs unloaded good from around the world, and just beyond, the once busy river.
That was the tour, we thanked the guide, and she said that along the river we would find many places to have lunch. We walked on, coming to a modern glass and steel building, a posh eateries and bar: looking at the menu, we both decide burgers were in order. So we go in, take a table, order drinks and our meal and watch the people. It is graduation at the university, and many people are in gowns, joyful with their friends and families, out celebrating their degrees and awards.
Our burgers were good, as were the drinks; Jools has a margarita, which was OK, but strong. Once we finish, I leave Jools on a bench as I cross the blinking bridge to snap the views along the river.
As the rain falls again, we walk back up the hill to the castle: I buy a ticket and go straight to the roof of the keep to snap the trains. But no Flying Scotsmen or Deltics this day, just the usual class 91, now rebranded to Branson’s Virgin company.
----------------------------------------------------
The Gateshead Millennium Bridge is a pedestrian and cyclist tilt bridge spanning the River Tyne in England between Gateshead's Quays arts quarter on the south bank, and the Quayside of Newcastle upon Tyne on the north bank. Opened for public use in 2001, the award-winning structure was conceived and designed by architect Wilkinson Eyre and structural engineer Gifford.[1] The bridge is sometimes referred to as the 'Blinking Eye Bridge'[2] or the 'Winking Eye Bridge'[3] due to its shape and its tilting method. In terms of height, the Gateshead Millennium Bridge is slightly shorter than the neighbouring Tyne Bridge, and stands as the sixteenth tallest structure in the city.
The bridge was lifted into place in one piece by the Asian Hercules II,[4] one of the world's largest floating cranes, on 20 November 2000. It was opened to the public on 17 September 2001,[5] and was dedicated by Queen Elizabeth II on 7 May 2002.[6] The bridge, which cost £22m to build, was part funded by the Millennium Commission and European Regional Development Fund. It was built by Volker Stevin.[7]
Six 45 cm (18 in) diameter hydraulic rams (three on each side, each powered by a 55 kW electric motor) rotate the bridge back on large bearings to allow small ships and boats (up to 25 m (82 ft) tall) to pass underneath. The bridge takes as little as 4.5 minutes to rotate through the full 40° from closed to open, depending on wind speed. Its appearance during this manoeuvre has led to it being nicknamed the "Blinking Eye Bridge".[5]
The bridge has operated reliably since construction, opening to allow river traffic to pass. It also opens periodically for sightseers and for major events such as the Northumbrian Water University Boat Race and the Cutty Sark Tall Ships' Race. One of the principal requirements for opening the bridge is to allow access to HMS Calliope where Royal Navy patrol boat HMS Example is based.
The construction of the bridge won the architects Wilkinson Eyre the 2002 Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) Stirling Prize.[8] and won Gifford the 2003 IStructE Supreme Award.[9] In 2005, the bridge received the Outstanding Structure Award[10] from International Association for Bridge and Structural Engineering (IABSE).
Bollards, known as the Vessel Collision Protection System, were installed when the bridge was built to protect it from collisions. However, the bollards became unsightly, and it became noted that they were not really needed. They were removed in March 2012.[11]
Tilt times for the bridge are displayed both on the bridge itself, and also on a page on the Gateshead Council website.
Nothing beats a phone call from your long time friend asking for "a favor"...except a favor in 30° weather.
My long time friend Colt has been trying to sell his one of a kind custom fully built acura TL (see Colt's TL set). He struggled with finding someone wanting such a VIP style car in our retched town, but eventually found a willing candidate to trade for a sport bike, the all black 04 honda cbr 600rr.
Colt doesn't ride, (he's more of a 500hp v8 guy) but jumped at the opportunity to sell something a little bit more liquid, so he got the car to 'trade' value, removing his work vs-xx rims, bodykit, and other small customized pieces.
While they were working on the title work, I snuck the bike behind a church and tried to grab a few shots. 2pm isn't exactly my favorite time to shoot but i made it work. I forgot my tripod and my g/f drove my flashes / camera behind me so I just had to make due.
Shots were done mainly with the tamron 17-50 f2.8 with an nd8 filter set in AEB mode. The first shot was set to sync at 1/200 and fire the flashes (3 @ full power), while the second shot was set to 1/500ish to get the sky nice and dark. If i would've had a tripod it would've been much easier but they layered nicely. A few other edits were done once behind the computer but I really liked how this set turned out, as I'm afraid to shoot black cars / bikes and also shoot at such a 'bad' time of day.
I called this set "face your fears" because of the many obstacles on different levels it entailed...riding someone else's bike for one, riding it in freezing weather, shooting mid day, trying to light up a black vehicle, and the headaches we entail while dealing with purchasing or trading a new vehicle.
hope you all enjoy!
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
A day of rain.
And a trip to Newcastle.
Hmmmm, Newcastle.
We woke up at half seven, outside it was overcast with the promise of much rain through the day. We planned to go to Hexham to catch the train into the city, wander round, have lunch, take shots and come back. And it still sounded a good idea in the morning. So, after breakfast, we gathered our stuff, our new waterproof jackets and walking boots, packed the car and set off down the valley to Hexham.
There is an even more local station nearer the cottage, but only has a two-hourly service through the day. A 15 minute drive to Hexham opens the possibility of half hourly trains, if we got bored in the city.
Two pounds to park the car all day outside the station, seven quid for a return ticket. A cheap day it seemed.
We had timed it just right, and 5 minutes after arriving, our train, a class 156, pulled up and we all got on for the half hour trundle into town. The line runs beside the river Tyne, and is very picturesque, even from a rattly diesel DMU.
We pulled into Newcastle, over Stephenson’s high level bridge, with glorious views over the river and city. It had just begun to rain, but we were prepared.
Outside the station, we looked up the wide street in front, and I saw a memorial, which should mean there was a square, maybe the centre of the city, so we set off, dodging shoppers and waiting bus passengers. However, we were thirsty. And hungry. And seeing an Italian ice cream parlour, we go inside to have breakfast.
I order sausage roll and a coffee: Jools has quiche. And a coffee. Now, that we did not specify what kind of coffee we wanted should have meant we got a cup of filter. Or so we thought. But what we did get was a cup of milky coffee, the kind that my parents used to drink, made with almost all hot milk, and horrible.
I tried to tell myself this was some kind of retro food experience, but my main thought was to drink it as soon as possible before a skin formed on the top, which would have made me retch.
Further up the street, we saw a sign saying ‘central arcade’; we thought it looked interesting and went in. Just as well we did, as inside it was decorated with splendid tiles, in a fine art deco fashion. In admiring them, we caught the attention of a woman, who engaged us in conversation. Turns out she was a guide, and for four pounds each would take us on a 90 minute tour round the city.
Sounded fair to us, so we paid, and our guide explained the history of the arcade and the surrounding area, all gentrified in the 1830s, which so resembled fine Parisian boulevards. It was a wonderful area, and the style, Tyne Gothic was very nice and almost chic. It has been renovated in recent times, and looks like it did when new, except for the pawnbrokers and other modern shops now occupying the ground floors.
We were shown the indoor market, the Theatre Royal, all the time heading down towards the river. We stop at The Black Gate, the old main entrance to the city, and next to it the Norman, or New, castle. I know that from the top fine views of trains arriving and leaving from the station could be had, and so I planned to return later in the day.
We walk down the old main road, the old Great North Road, as was, now a quit pedestrianised street, leading steeply down underneath two of the 5 bridges that cross the river. More history down there; merchants houses, where wharfs unloaded good from around the world, and just beyond, the once busy river.
That was the tour, we thanked the guide, and she said that along the river we would find many places to have lunch. We walked on, coming to a modern glass and steel building, a posh eateries and bar: looking at the menu, we both decide burgers were in order. So we go in, take a table, order drinks and our meal and watch the people. It is graduation at the university, and many people are in gowns, joyful with their friends and families, out celebrating their degrees and awards.
Our burgers were good, as were the drinks; Jools has a margarita, which was OK, but strong. Once we finish, I leave Jools on a bench as I cross the blinking bridge to snap the views along the river.
As the rain falls again, we walk back up the hill to the castle: I buy a ticket and go straight to the roof of the keep to snap the trains. But no Flying Scotsmen or Deltics this day, just the usual class 91, now rebranded to Branson’s Virgin company.
----------------------------------------------------
The Gateshead Millennium Bridge is a pedestrian and cyclist tilt bridge spanning the River Tyne in England between Gateshead's Quays arts quarter on the south bank, and the Quayside of Newcastle upon Tyne on the north bank. Opened for public use in 2001, the award-winning structure was conceived and designed by architect Wilkinson Eyre and structural engineer Gifford.[1] The bridge is sometimes referred to as the 'Blinking Eye Bridge'[2] or the 'Winking Eye Bridge'[3] due to its shape and its tilting method. In terms of height, the Gateshead Millennium Bridge is slightly shorter than the neighbouring Tyne Bridge, and stands as the sixteenth tallest structure in the city.
The bridge was lifted into place in one piece by the Asian Hercules II,[4] one of the world's largest floating cranes, on 20 November 2000. It was opened to the public on 17 September 2001,[5] and was dedicated by Queen Elizabeth II on 7 May 2002.[6] The bridge, which cost £22m to build, was part funded by the Millennium Commission and European Regional Development Fund. It was built by Volker Stevin.[7]
Six 45 cm (18 in) diameter hydraulic rams (three on each side, each powered by a 55 kW electric motor) rotate the bridge back on large bearings to allow small ships and boats (up to 25 m (82 ft) tall) to pass underneath. The bridge takes as little as 4.5 minutes to rotate through the full 40° from closed to open, depending on wind speed. Its appearance during this manoeuvre has led to it being nicknamed the "Blinking Eye Bridge".[5]
The bridge has operated reliably since construction, opening to allow river traffic to pass. It also opens periodically for sightseers and for major events such as the Northumbrian Water University Boat Race and the Cutty Sark Tall Ships' Race. One of the principal requirements for opening the bridge is to allow access to HMS Calliope where Royal Navy patrol boat HMS Example is based.
The construction of the bridge won the architects Wilkinson Eyre the 2002 Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) Stirling Prize.[8] and won Gifford the 2003 IStructE Supreme Award.[9] In 2005, the bridge received the Outstanding Structure Award[10] from International Association for Bridge and Structural Engineering (IABSE).
Bollards, known as the Vessel Collision Protection System, were installed when the bridge was built to protect it from collisions. However, the bollards became unsightly, and it became noted that they were not really needed. They were removed in March 2012.[11]
Tilt times for the bridge are displayed both on the bridge itself, and also on a page on the Gateshead Council website.
The Halo: Reach t-shirt that I'm wearing came shipped as a brick nestled into the box I'm holding. We wanted to see if it held its shape after the plastic wrap was removed. The answer is yes. Unfortunately, it also holds all the wrinkles for a long, long time. Might want to go with a cotton/poly blend next time, folks.
If you're curious to see what the t-shirt looked like in brick form, you can see it here. Warning: the photo contains shirtless Dave. Some of you (i.e., my girlfriend) will be delighted. The rest of you might want to retch.
Thanks to buddy Rob for donating the shirt. Playing Halo with him last night reminded me of two things: 1) I suck at first person shooters, and 2) the internet is turning today's 15-year-olds into sociopaths. Seriously. I would have never tried pulling any of that crap when I was 15, mostly because in those pre-XBL days my fellow players would have been in the same room and would have just punched me in the face.
It was the name that did it. The label on the bottle said Wootonga and I just had to investigate. It was only 5 euro and it had a 19 volt kick. Wootonga, Australian sweet sherry.
It might have been fine if I had drunk it in small amounts as an after dinner tipple, but I drank the whole bottle in one go, and for some unfathomable reason decided to eat a jar of Ahti raw baltic herring in a mustard sauce to go along with it. Anybody would have thought I was pregnant.
Logic should tell you that Australian Sweet Sherry and raw baltic herring in mustard sauce is not a good combination, but let me just say that the unusualness of the flavours, the mingling of the sweetness and the bitterness was sufficiently interesting that three-quarters of the wine was gone and almost all of the raw herring before the nausea began to creep into my throat.
Having started a project I was loathe to give up, so operating on the principle of a "hair of the dog that bite you" I downed the remaining glass of Wootonga in one gulp and observing some onion rings and black peppercorns remaining in the raw herring jar I ate them as well.
It was when the molars crunched through the peppercorns that the projectile vomiting started, and after the stomach was empty the dry retching continued. There is nothing worse than the taste of sour bile in your mouth... well in actual fact there is... Wootonga and raw herring.
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
It’s been about a week since that episode in the bathroom. She’s gone easier on the juice, and she’s feeling a little better about her tummy. I didn’t stop her from stepping on the scale this morning, and she saw a 3.5 pound difference.
When she left, I took a turn on the evil hate machine, and I’m down a few myself.
My mom and I used to joke about our inability to lose weight, saying we wish we could have anorexia for just a couple of weeks. When someone has that virus and spends ten days vomiting, losing ten pounds in the process, we stand a little closer to her. (But we know, of course, that we’d find a way to squeeze the calories in through retching episodes.) I even took diet pills for awhile, but I got used to them instantly and started eating more calories. I even thought I was onto something when I invented “Tapeworm in a Jar.”
Or I could give up my 6:00 Red Hook ESB; the one at 4:00 should suffice.
We all have a scale story—one that we will remember forever, like the day in Miss Brown’s ninth grade gym class. I think of it every time I see a doctor’s scale or a locker room in a spa or health club. I am thankful that my story had a Dawn in it. Without her, it would have been just another painful memory of my ever-expanding waist.
I hope everybody’s kid either has a Dawn or is a Dawn. And I hope none of our daughters grows up to be or have the skinny friend.
I'd have more pictures of the opening, but the both of us were too busy retching once the opening started. Like dumbasses, we began the process in the apartment. That lasted about thirty seconds. Once the hull gave way and the full force of the durian sensory experience began, we packed it up and ran down to the storage room of the building (we're assholes). This is not recommended, as any activity that involves you, a durian, and a closed space will result in victory for the durian. The taste wasn't so bad, kind of like a smokey custard. But the smell was so overpowering that we couldn't really taste it. Now when I burp? I smell durian. And the problem? Durian smells like a wet fart. A bad wet fart. The worst wet fart you've ever let. It's bad.
A Polaroid Picture a Day
Year 1
020309
34/365
Fever 103
Pure? What does it mean?
The tongues of hell
Are dull, dull as the triple
Tongues of dull, fat Cerebus
Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable
Of licking clean
The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin.
The tinder cries.
The indelible smell
Of a snuffed candle!
Love, love, the low smokes roll
From me like Isadora's scarves, I'm in a fright
One scarf will catch and anchor in the wheel.
Such yellow sullen smokes
Make their own element. They will not rise,
But trundle round the globe
Choking the aged and the meek,
The weak
Hothouse baby in its crib,
The ghastly orchid
Hanging its hanging garden in the air,
Devilish leopard!
Radiation turned it white
And killed it in an hour.
Greasing the bodies of adulterers
Like Hiroshima ash and eating in.
The sin. The sin.
Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.
The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss.
Three days. Three nights.
Lemon water, chicken
Water, water make me retch.
I am too pure for you or anyone.
Your body
Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern ---
My head a moon
Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin
Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive.
Does not my heat astound you. And my light.
All by myself I am a huge camellia
Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush.
I think I am going up,
I think I may rise ---
The beads of hot metal fly, and I, love, I
Am a pure acetylene
Virgin
Attended by roses,
By kisses, by cherubim,
By whatever these pink things mean.
Not you, nor him.
Not him, nor him
(My selves dissolving, old whore petticoats) ---
To Paradise.
-Sylvia Plath
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
This dude has the worst job I have ever seen. He is on his hands and knees at the main intersection in Shibuya scooping cigarette butts out of the ashtray water with a colander and putting them in the other box thing. This literally made me retch just watching it.
– Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia
I love this shot, both in its simplicity and power. This old truck that appears abandoned in this vast, unforgiving nothingness. The Bolivian Altiplano has some of the most desolate and surreal landscapes in the world. It is a land of steaming geysers, fumaroling volcanoes, salt flats, and mineral rich polychromed rocks and pools. I got a little more acquainted with the unbridled nature of this place than I bargained for, however, when two days before this shot, our party departed from an already-high 9,000 feet and drove to 16,000 feet in just a couple of hours. I got an awful case of altitude sickness, causing my traveling companions—one of them a med student from the UK—to wonder if my groaning and retching throughout the night wouldn’t be the end of me. In the day that followed, my hearty appetite for exploration was sufficiently dimmed to keep me inside our SUV at most scenic stops. When you’re constantly having to get your driver to pull over in response to your fickle bodily demands, using prickly scrubbed open acreage with howling winds as your bathroom, and in this condition feeling every little bump of the poor roads along a two-hundred mile stretch as they pass undiminished through the shocks of your SUV, you might wonder if this was all worth it. Having begun my return from the dead by the time I arrived to this spot made for a bittersweet experience.
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
I couldn't remember what or exactly where this was. No Google Street View coverage of Tangier, but you can "hover" your mouse over the map and see thumbnail photos of the locality. Soon found it. This is the Bab-al-Kasbah, or Entrance to the Kasbah, photographed on Friday 7th August 1987. The locals are touchy about being photographed; most simply cover their faces when they see you raise a camera, but there were sometimes retching and spitting noises, and one or two vociferous denunciations. It was said (by the Clarkson's couriers) to be connected with the idea that to possess the image is to hold power over the soul. I suppose this notion is fairly widespread ...the voodoo pin and doll idea for instance. We smirk in our clever, secular way at such "superstition", but isn't something of this primæval belief latent in most people? We all feel slightly uneasy, or at least selfconscious ("oh, ah, OK then ...er, how do you want me?") when being photographed. Savvy after a few days in the city, I employed my nice Chinon 35mm M42 screw-thread lens, whose wide angle of view, I conjectured, would deceive the two chaps in the foreground into thinking that I was shooting past them.
A nice inn and an even nicer mercenary. It would probably have looked a lot better with an ENB. Oh well.
2014/06/07(sat)
Asshole Carnival Vol.2
at Earthdom
ANAL VOLCANO
Mecosario (岡崎)
Retch
GO-ZEN
SAIGAN TERROR
ZENOCIDE
DJ : LOVEJUICE
Wednesday
A day of rain.
And a trip to Newcastle.
Hmmmm, Newcastle.
We woke up at half seven, outside it was overcast with the promise of much rain through the day. We planned to go to Hexham to catch the train into the city, wander round, have lunch, take shots and come back. And it still sounded a good idea in the morning. So, after breakfast, we gathered our stuff, our new waterproof jackets and walking boots, packed the car and set off down the valley to Hexham.
There is an even more local station nearer the cottage, but only has a two-hourly service through the day. A 15 minute drive to Hexham opens the possibility of half hourly trains, if we got bored in the city.
Two pounds to park the car all day outside the station, seven quid for a return ticket. A cheap day it seemed.
We had timed it just right, and 5 minutes after arriving, our train, a class 156, pulled up and we all got on for the half hour trundle into town. The line runs beside the river Tyne, and is very picturesque, even from a rattly diesel DMU.
We pulled into Newcastle, over Stephenson’s high level bridge, with glorious views over the river and city. It had just begun to rain, but we were prepared.
Outside the station, we looked up the wide street in front, and I saw a memorial, which should mean there was a square, maybe the centre of the city, so we set off, dodging shoppers and waiting bus passengers. However, we were thirsty. And hungry. And seeing an Italian ice cream parlour, we go inside to have breakfast.
I order sausage roll and a coffee: Jools has quiche. And a coffee. Now, that we did not specify what kind of coffee we wanted should have meant we got a cup of filter. Or so we thought. But what we did get was a cup of milky coffee, the kind that my parents used to drink, made with almost all hot milk, and horrible.
I tried to tell myself this was some kind of retro food experience, but my main thought was to drink it as soon as possible before a skin formed on the top, which would have made me retch.
Further up the street, we saw a sign saying ‘central arcade’; we thought it looked interesting and went in. Just as well we did, as inside it was decorated with splendid tiles, in a fine art deco fashion. In admiring them, we caught the attention of a woman, who engaged us in conversation. Turns out she was a guide, and for four pounds each would take us on a 90 minute tour round the city.
Sounded fair to us, so we paid, and our guide explained the history of the arcade and the surrounding area, all gentrified in the 1830s, which so resembled fine Parisian boulevards. It was a wonderful area, and the style, Tyne Gothic was very nice and almost chic. It has been renovated in recent times, and looks like it did when new, except for the pawnbrokers and other modern shops now occupying the ground floors.
We were shown the indoor market, the Theatre Royal, all the time heading down towards the river. We stop at The Black Gate, the old main entrance to the city, and next to it the Norman, or New, castle. I know that from the top fine views of trains arriving and leaving from the station could be had, and so I planned to return later in the day.
We walk down the old main road, the old Great North Road, as was, now a quit pedestrianised street, leading steeply down underneath two of the 5 bridges that cross the river. More history down there; merchants houses, where wharfs unloaded good from around the world, and just beyond, the once busy river.
That was the tour, we thanked the guide, and she said that along the river we would find many places to have lunch. We walked on, coming to a modern glass and steel building, a posh eateries and bar: looking at the menu, we both decide burgers were in order. So we go in, take a table, order drinks and our meal and watch the people. It is graduation at the university, and many people are in gowns, joyful with their friends and families, out celebrating their degrees and awards.
Our burgers were good, as were the drinks; Jools has a margarita, which was OK, but strong. Once we finish, I leave Jools on a bench as I cross the blinking bridge to snap the views along the river.