July 2011
4 posts
Meat Eater.
Meat Eater!
You’re a motherfucking meat eater!
Meat Eater!
You’re fucking meat eater!
- buck utter of the almost legendary hog
Well, maybe so. It’s weird what punk rock kids get riled up about. Animals, authority, the price of fish. Buck’s poetry wasn’t even about *that* kind of meat I’m sure. But here in Romania I find meat challenging. It either comes in a...
death.
So today while I was partying, having an amazing time and being frivolous, shallow, non feeling and whatnot* I deleted 3 people from my phone, all of whom were dead. It’s been that kinda week.
Lets talk about death.
Once a band arrived REALLY late at the studio.
I was “pissed off mr shouty where the fuck have you been” and trust me, I am patient, having been in the company...
that one restaurant
I think I have a favourite restaurant. It’s in the shittest location in the world, well, in this town at least.
The outdoor terrace nestles at the base of a concrete monstrosity, a mess of (presumably fake) marble and concrete pillars. I may have just hallucinated some small furry animal run past. I’m not sure. I am joined by four regulation ugly dudes and two over made up beauties,...
I love to count.
“So, Adam, I was wondering…did this kitchen come ‘distressed’?”
He smirks. Very funny, fucker.
Laughter ensues.
My guests remind me of my old life, which is both good and bad. Yes, my kitchen is horrible, unmatched, has a spare set of taps that do nothing, a creepy cupboard that opens by itself, and a number of third world features that not too long ago would have had...
