Thursday, September 16, 2004
Cos this old world has been fine with me really
And I’m thankful for seeing another spring
It’s gonna be better this time another spring
It’s gonna be groovier this time another spring
It’s what’s happening this time
- Nina Simone
Looks like winter's over! Hurrah! I hope so anyway, I'm trying my darndest to usher it in by wearing suggestive clothing, or at least clothing suggestive of spring. So out go wooly jerseys and silly hats and in go T-shirts, micro shorts and jandals. Hooray.
But like winter, my love affair with the sardine may be over. It began like any other serving of sardine a la chuck, except that when I peeled the can open I was struck by abnormal size, they were more like a puppy's paw than little fish. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound as grandfather used to say and I smeared them across toast. But ah ah, something ain't right here, sardines aren't supposed to feel crunchy. What is that sticking in my throat? Well Frankie, it was none other than sardine vertebrae, about four centimetres long, white and prickly like an old man's toenail. I spat the rest out, threw away the can and laughed heartily. No doubt I’d angered Poseidon, and it was poetic piscene justice for my exploding whale story. Good one... fish.
But my sardine munching came about after a minor disaster in the freezer, which for about 12 hours didn't really live up to its name. Rather, everything turned soggy and smelly and I couldn't work out why. I checked the back, checked the front and was on the point of ringing my hearing impaired landlord to give him an earful, when I noticed the plug hanging out of the wall. Nerts!
Right, enough chit chat, I'd better go and return some library books and grab my coat on the way, because dammit, it’s absolutely freezing outside.
And I’m thankful for seeing another spring
It’s gonna be better this time another spring
It’s gonna be groovier this time another spring
It’s what’s happening this time
- Nina Simone
Looks like winter's over! Hurrah! I hope so anyway, I'm trying my darndest to usher it in by wearing suggestive clothing, or at least clothing suggestive of spring. So out go wooly jerseys and silly hats and in go T-shirts, micro shorts and jandals. Hooray.
But like winter, my love affair with the sardine may be over. It began like any other serving of sardine a la chuck, except that when I peeled the can open I was struck by abnormal size, they were more like a puppy's paw than little fish. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound as grandfather used to say and I smeared them across toast. But ah ah, something ain't right here, sardines aren't supposed to feel crunchy. What is that sticking in my throat? Well Frankie, it was none other than sardine vertebrae, about four centimetres long, white and prickly like an old man's toenail. I spat the rest out, threw away the can and laughed heartily. No doubt I’d angered Poseidon, and it was poetic piscene justice for my exploding whale story. Good one... fish.
But my sardine munching came about after a minor disaster in the freezer, which for about 12 hours didn't really live up to its name. Rather, everything turned soggy and smelly and I couldn't work out why. I checked the back, checked the front and was on the point of ringing my hearing impaired landlord to give him an earful, when I noticed the plug hanging out of the wall. Nerts!
Right, enough chit chat, I'd better go and return some library books and grab my coat on the way, because dammit, it’s absolutely freezing outside.
