RE: How are you today?
July 14, 2013 at 9:17 pm
(This post was last modified: July 14, 2013 at 9:18 pm by Cyberman.)
Just had an interesting week or so. Last Saturday, I was staying over at Shell's place as has become the custom in recent months (sleeping on the sofa - 
) and we went to Victoria Park in nearby Smethwick (for non-native English speakers: the "th" is voiced and the "w" is silent) as there was a huge Asian music event going on over the weekend. We caught the tail-end of it that day, since apparently the Council had only granted them a license up until 7pm, so we went back on the Sunday. We had a great time, lots of sun, nice food, great music, and a funfair to boot. Shell had a rare old time on the rides.
At one point we came upon an impromptu Bollywood style dance display, and the very fit-looking ladies doing the dancing were dragging people in from the crowd to join in. I didn't have a go but Shell did, as dancing and especially this particular style of it is her thing. Everyone was really getting into it, especially when one old bloke in a turban and full beard that made him look like a prototype Papa Smurf started throwing himself into the rhythm as well - I've rarely heard so much cheering.
This weekend, we went to a park in Handsworth, scene of the infamous riots, for another festival; this time celebrating Jamaican culture. They were just setting up for today when we went yesterday, but we still had a lovely time walking round the park in the sunshine; watching a family of swans, then a bit later coming upon the local cricket club who had just finished (they lost, apparently). Then on the way back we stopped off at a local arts centre and sat in on a jazz gig. A most civilised way to round off an evening. Of course, we had a run-in with a taxi driver with a bad attitude who turned up close to an hour after we rang his firm, but hey.
Today we went back to the park, and what an amazing day! There must have been tens of thousands of people there, mostly Jamaican of course but not exclusively by any means. Live open-air reggae, magnificent Caribbean food, optional ganja, plus of course cricket. We had delicious curried goat for our lunch, though I was torn between that and the ackee and saltfish. A bit later on found us drinking from a jelly coconut and eating chunks of sugar cane. Wonderful!
The only thing that would have made these weekends just perfect is if I'd been allowed to share them with my Sam. She would have been in her absolute element. <deep sigh>
I'm breaking here because the day also had its darker side and I want to separate the good from the bad. Remember the other week when I said I'd had a bust-up with Shell and her twat of an ex, and later when I learned the little wanker had stolen my personal stuff? Well, as you may have spotted Shell and I are back and maybe even stronger than before - as she said, we've known each other for over eleven years and we're bound to have the odd bump now and again, but our friendship has survived worse.
Anyway, this morning Shell's landline phone rang. We thought it was the taxi firm calling like they said they were going to about last night. However, it turned out to be that twat of an ex, so luckily the machine picked up before either of us could answer it. She doesn't want anything to do with him and especially since he's a bit too happy with his fists. So we decided to just go out as planned and bollocks to him.
When we got back tonight we found something like a dozen missed reverse-charge calls to her landline, no messages just the calls, which really pissed her off. Moreover, throughout the day I'd been getting Facebook messages on my Blackberry from the git, basically asking me to pass a message to Shell that he was going to come up to her house to pick up some things of his. The only things she knows of that might be there are some clothes, which she's already slashed and chucked in her fire bin ready for a nice bonfire. I informed him, politely, that after the way he treated both of us and stealing my property I am going to do jack shit for him. I also told a little untruth and said I haven't seen Shell for ages. I think it was the assumption that we would be together that I found annoying.
I really wanted to stay with her tonight but she has a full day and an early start in the morning and said she'd be ok anyway. Besides, she has really reliable naighbours who happen to hate him and adore me, so I know she's in good hands. I got back home a little while ago and was able to check my Facebook proper. Turns out he sent me a longish message about how he's sorry for not understanding what I'm going through and how I've got nothing to be sorry about. Check this out: Apparently he didn't steal my things, he's just holding onto them until the repairs are made to his bastard TV that he still blames me for wrecking. - he must be using the biblical definition of 'stealing'. He's "prepared" to give me the things back if I meet him next Saturday with Shell and "apologise" for breaking the fucking thing! I told him what to kiss and where to find it. I also told him that I am getting the stuff back, but it's going to be at a time and place of my choosing and this shit's just between me and him. No Shell involved. (I don't intend to go on my own though; I have some very powerful support who will make sure the little fucker's going to behave himself.) There were also a lot of red herrings concerning a very private matter but I'm not going to be thrown by his manipulative games. And the best part is, nor is she.
So basically that's the plot of the latest episode. Sorry it's been longer than I expected.
) and we went to Victoria Park in nearby Smethwick (for non-native English speakers: the "th" is voiced and the "w" is silent) as there was a huge Asian music event going on over the weekend. We caught the tail-end of it that day, since apparently the Council had only granted them a license up until 7pm, so we went back on the Sunday. We had a great time, lots of sun, nice food, great music, and a funfair to boot. Shell had a rare old time on the rides.At one point we came upon an impromptu Bollywood style dance display, and the very fit-looking ladies doing the dancing were dragging people in from the crowd to join in. I didn't have a go but Shell did, as dancing and especially this particular style of it is her thing. Everyone was really getting into it, especially when one old bloke in a turban and full beard that made him look like a prototype Papa Smurf started throwing himself into the rhythm as well - I've rarely heard so much cheering.
This weekend, we went to a park in Handsworth, scene of the infamous riots, for another festival; this time celebrating Jamaican culture. They were just setting up for today when we went yesterday, but we still had a lovely time walking round the park in the sunshine; watching a family of swans, then a bit later coming upon the local cricket club who had just finished (they lost, apparently). Then on the way back we stopped off at a local arts centre and sat in on a jazz gig. A most civilised way to round off an evening. Of course, we had a run-in with a taxi driver with a bad attitude who turned up close to an hour after we rang his firm, but hey.
Today we went back to the park, and what an amazing day! There must have been tens of thousands of people there, mostly Jamaican of course but not exclusively by any means. Live open-air reggae, magnificent Caribbean food, optional ganja, plus of course cricket. We had delicious curried goat for our lunch, though I was torn between that and the ackee and saltfish. A bit later on found us drinking from a jelly coconut and eating chunks of sugar cane. Wonderful!
The only thing that would have made these weekends just perfect is if I'd been allowed to share them with my Sam. She would have been in her absolute element. <deep sigh>
I'm breaking here because the day also had its darker side and I want to separate the good from the bad. Remember the other week when I said I'd had a bust-up with Shell and her twat of an ex, and later when I learned the little wanker had stolen my personal stuff? Well, as you may have spotted Shell and I are back and maybe even stronger than before - as she said, we've known each other for over eleven years and we're bound to have the odd bump now and again, but our friendship has survived worse.
Anyway, this morning Shell's landline phone rang. We thought it was the taxi firm calling like they said they were going to about last night. However, it turned out to be that twat of an ex, so luckily the machine picked up before either of us could answer it. She doesn't want anything to do with him and especially since he's a bit too happy with his fists. So we decided to just go out as planned and bollocks to him.
When we got back tonight we found something like a dozen missed reverse-charge calls to her landline, no messages just the calls, which really pissed her off. Moreover, throughout the day I'd been getting Facebook messages on my Blackberry from the git, basically asking me to pass a message to Shell that he was going to come up to her house to pick up some things of his. The only things she knows of that might be there are some clothes, which she's already slashed and chucked in her fire bin ready for a nice bonfire. I informed him, politely, that after the way he treated both of us and stealing my property I am going to do jack shit for him. I also told a little untruth and said I haven't seen Shell for ages. I think it was the assumption that we would be together that I found annoying.
I really wanted to stay with her tonight but she has a full day and an early start in the morning and said she'd be ok anyway. Besides, she has really reliable naighbours who happen to hate him and adore me, so I know she's in good hands. I got back home a little while ago and was able to check my Facebook proper. Turns out he sent me a longish message about how he's sorry for not understanding what I'm going through and how I've got nothing to be sorry about. Check this out: Apparently he didn't steal my things, he's just holding onto them until the repairs are made to his bastard TV that he still blames me for wrecking. - he must be using the biblical definition of 'stealing'. He's "prepared" to give me the things back if I meet him next Saturday with Shell and "apologise" for breaking the fucking thing! I told him what to kiss and where to find it. I also told him that I am getting the stuff back, but it's going to be at a time and place of my choosing and this shit's just between me and him. No Shell involved. (I don't intend to go on my own though; I have some very powerful support who will make sure the little fucker's going to behave himself.) There were also a lot of red herrings concerning a very private matter but I'm not going to be thrown by his manipulative games. And the best part is, nor is she.
So basically that's the plot of the latest episode. Sorry it's been longer than I expected.
At the age of five, Skagra decided emphatically that God did not exist. This revelation tends to make most people in the universe who have it react in one of two ways - with relief or with despair. Only Skagra responded to it by thinking, 'Wait a second. That means there's a situation vacant.'
