Monday, July 27, 2009

Why I should have been born in Spain

Firstly, good morning, good afternoon and good night. (I don't know where in the world or when you will read this so I'm covering my bases).

Today is Monday, and as per usual I should have gone to bed early last night but I didn't. I was enthralled in the most captivating fantasy trilogy ever. You got it peeps, the Lord of the Rings. Part III baby. Viggo Mortensen (aka Imahotmo Therfker) is so delish in that scene where he goes into the mountains to get the ghost army to fight for him. "What say you?!!!" (I say yes, yes, oh yes!)

So obviously I'm not regretting it one bit, but now I'm totally zombified with no fresh brains anywhere in sight. I need a jagerbomb (jagermeister and redbull). Which brings me to my point. Spain. Beautiful country, beautiful people, and best of all a beautiful culture.

Not only is it normal to have beer or wine with your breakfast (I know, I almost cried too), but they have the most beautiful work system in the world. I'm talkin' bout the siesta. The time you get to leave work and go have some lunch, take a nap and maybe do some laundry. Or you could go to the movies, take a swim or even go to the gym! The possibilities are endless!

Time baby! They give you time. They give anywhere from 2-3 hours. And today is one of those days where I need time. Mind you I've just come back from the bank which is on the other side of the peninsula (not really but just go with it) and I've been gone for almost 2 hours. But if I had siesta, the bank would be closed, forcing me to go home and chill out. Even though it meant I would have to be back at work at 15:00 and then work until 19:00, it would still be sooo fucking fantastic. Imagine what you could do in those precious 3 hours!

Besides the siesta, coloured people (most of them, not all) look like people from the south of Spain. I went there last year and everybody thought I was Spanish. It was mildly amusing (and I'll admit, very flattering) that people would speak spanish to me in the streets.

Pretend this is in Spanish: "What's the time? When is the bus coming? Are you a supermodel?"

Ok, so the last one I made up but it SO could have happened...:-D

Thursday, July 16, 2009

WTF is wrong with pink!!!

So here it is, my first blogpost on my very own blog. It’s strangely exciting, like everything else I start with much enthusiasm and gusto and then after a few weeks stop doing because it’s lost that new car smell. Like the time I bought myself a R800 guitar and only learned to play like 10 songs. And not even very well. But whatever.

So I got some help from Sid on setting this thing up, and when I picked the layout she was like “Oh. You chose pink.”

Add generous layer of condescension and judgement here.

WTF is wrong with pink?! I’m no girly girly, but pink is fucking awesome man! Even guys wear pink these days. (FYI: there is no such colour as salmon, ITS PINK!).

AND and and… it was the title of one of the hottest Aerosmith songs in history. I don’t see nobody writing a song about brown, or red or fucking fuschia for that matter. Pink baby. PINK!

And then Sid gets on my case because I have glitter on my Ipod. Fuck you, ok! I am a delicate fucking flower who likes glitter and pink. So. WHAT.

It’s like red but not quite….

PS: But she’s right, if I were her, I’d be ragging me too. :-P