Vote for the microbrewery in the Arndale

OK, if I were to say I was taking you out for a decadent drink you may not be overly impressed to find yourself sitting in the Arndale’s food market, with the waft of fish and hyperactive kids drinking those stupid cake in a shake drinks.

But this little bar is a diamond, and deserves all the votes it can get

It serves Boggart and Brew Dog beers all for £2.50 a bottle, you can get two pints to take home, and they have ever changing guest ales voted for by it’s drinkers.

On order for a very special treat, me and Adam have purchased two bottles of Brew Dog’s Tokyo ale, which retails in at £10 a pop and knocks up 18.2%abv.  

I think my favourite drink so far is Brew Dog’s Dogma, which has been described as speedball, it’s excellent, I also like the Boggart’s Rum Porter and I found the Dark Star Espresso beer bottled and available to take away from this nifty little bar.

Drinking in or taking away the landlady is a pleasure and she knows her stuff

Please try it and vote for them in the MFDF the link is http://www.foodanddrinkfestival.com/awards and it’s the macro brewery

Cheers drink responsibly, drink good beer

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Reviewing my week

Festivals – (1) Green Man even though it’s grown in size the festival still remains with the feeling of friendly intimacy, not that I ever went to it when it was half the size.  I don’t think I can see myself booking for something like Glastonbury, after festival experiences like this, and End of the Road in 2 weeks woop.

Films – Inglorious Basterds, ten years in the making, what?!  I can’t say I didn’t laugh because the whole concept seemed to be hodgepodged together combining a mock attempt at Cohen brothers style, with a poor man’s Ocean’s 11 and Hot Shots. It made me laugh because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing hailed as a masterpiece, I thought there were some scenes that worked really well, the opening one especially, but then Brad Pitt came along.

Things I’ve bought: a lame example of an iced latte from Coffee Tempo on the motorway, I never live and learn with this one.  2 shit coffees from the cinema ,I never learn with this one and the coffee costs more than the film, Beetroot crisps, Brew Dog beers, some razor blades which  got ID for.

Bizarre occurances: seeing Amy’s mannequin dressed up as a person with a pink wig, nearly using a jar of Tikka sauce that had been opened for three months and had turned slightly grey, Wilko wees, Waking up

Tonight is DJ Jay Krause hope he doesn’t puke on the turntables

Market Research

This morning I found myself googling words:

dupuytren’s contracture

an afflicted hand or 20 decadent beers?

I was going to write 3 bottles of vodka

yet that made the idea of consideration too lame

 

hyperplastic palmar aponeurosis

I realised a date with me could be scary

my brain like a hyperactive chickens

as I consider selling my thumb for the money

 

I must have been crazy to consider wishing I was 15 years older

I don’t want to talk about my mobile phone contract at all

yet this morning I found myself googling words

and thanking myself I got bored

The Green Man Festival

What a treat we all had, with the delights of bands I already knew and sought out like Animal Collective, Gang Gang Dance, Camera Obscura and Grizzly bear, to the unfamiliar Wilko, The Lesuire Society, The Gentle Good and Peter Broderick, just a few of the delights I saw stowed away in the Brecon Beacon’s last weekend.

The festival is all but a dream now, and it’s hard to imagine that I was ever there squatting on Andysloos and drinking chai brandies.

The moments were exceptional, to share beautiful music with friends and for me be the most open I have ever felt around people who I adore, was a real experience.

Some festival classics

Me getting Bon Iver confused with Akron Family, I wondered why they weren’t wearing headbands

Dom comparing everything to Battles and saying she’d have a cup of tomato ketchup

Owen’s incredible love of everything, “let’s have a lovely sit down,”  “this wine it’s really lovely,”  “that’s really lovely that is,”  “that’s a great photo,”  his enthusiasm obviously fuelled by his double breakfasts

Jay and his willy wees, pork scratchings and oh yes philosophy

Adam in his I’m moving vigour and real ale party antics till 6am

Amy “chai wallah wallah”

Mish to India, a rave in a cave, and the wicker man – all in five minutes

Chris, my little moomin friend, King Kreosote doesn’t suck, and if you think he does don’t say it to the man himself.

We had fun, we had chai, we had rain, we had laughs, we had scran (that one’s for Mat), it was a honkin time that will be documented

Green Man

Here we come . . . whoop 

Irony and Morisette

Ironic or just bad timing? more tomorrow, it’s bad timing

I am reading or rather dipping in and out of a book called the Alluring  problem by D I Enright,  which I have just foud out retails on Amazon marketplace for 1p.

So far I have learnt, that in 1985 crocodile meat was to be sold for human consumption in Australia because the reptile was no longer an endangered species.

The more I start to think I understand irony, is often when I get more confused.

Irony should be a disconnect of the outward message to what it is actually saying, so the irony of the croc is that we should celebrate the fact that they are no longer endangered by killing them for the barbie.

Makes sense, but then Alanis Morisette came along.

Apparently her sense of irony is not ironic, is that ironic? maybe she’s called a double bluff, but here is why her lyric don’t live up to the label she’s slapped on the single. (ps this is not from Enright unless he is way ahead of his time)

An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It’s a black fly in your Chardonnay
It’s a death row pardon two minutes too late
Isn’t it ironic … don’t you think

It’s like rain on your wedding day
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take
Who would’ve thought … it figures

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
‘Well isn’t this nice…’
And isn’t it ironic … don’t you think

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face

It’s a traffic jam when you’re already late
It’s a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think
A little too ironic… and yeah I really do think…

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out

just shitty coincidence

completely mising the point of irony, which could be a double bluff

maybe ironic don’t you think?

she scores

Coco avant Chanel

I enjoyed it much more than I thought. Though I love Audrey Tautou, I couldn’t help thinking it might turn out to be another “Devil Wears Prada” that wasn’t saved by Meryl Streep.

But then Anne Hathaway has never been an actress with any flair in my book, in the same way that I never empathise with any Keira Knightley characters, who was actually offered the role. I wouldn’t have bothered to spend £3.20 if she’d accepted.

The film covers life for Gabrielle Chanel aka  Coco before she becomes the fashion designer we now have embedded in our subconscious. I remember Hello magazine from when Princess Diana was alive and her wearing a red and pink dress, which I was morbidly against. Now I might have only been 10 years old, but if I had to hazard a guess I would have told my friends, for elaboration, that the dress was a Chanel.

The two symbols that have become emblematic of the brand, are far from the bland Coco that we see in the film, her style was geeky, shapeless and carried with flair away from the frou frou of the tea cake tarts.

Chanel markets herself on the fact that it ain’t luxury if it ain’t comfortable.

I loved the portrayal in the film of Coco’s relationships with men, Balsen and Boy, though Boy annoyed me immensely. I wish he hadn’t bothered to utter any English, for me it took away from the beauty of the film, it seemed a sloppy  token gesture.

Some things I’ve learnt about Coco:

• Coco was born in 1883 and died in 1971 so she had a pretty good innings
• Her name was mis-spelt Chasnel when her birth was recorded, this made things tricky for biographers (I did not learn this from the film)
• In 1913 Coco introduced sportswear into her boutique in Deauville (I did not learn this from the film)
• not to be confused with Coco Channel, which seperates the coco islands and the North Andaman islands

I liked the film and find Coco an interesting character, I’d be tempted to check out some of the other films about different eras of her life even though they don’t star Tautou, and so far not Knightley.

I won’t be buying the perfume, not until I’m 67 and going on a cruise anyway.

Back a bit more spritely and stuffed with Shakespeare

Yesterday, I missed writing for the thought, as I was editing using Shakespeare and drinking Crabbies. The whole image doesn’t really fit it’s like this mathematical equation for which I will use pictures to illustrate

                  + 

 

                  = harking back to the hours and times

                      where lashings of ginger beer

                      makes summer welcome

                      flowed your dearest desire

                      and ham rolls thy beauties

                      were an ever fixed mark

here’s an old poem I’m too tired

Tea Stains

 

These days rain keeps falling

banging breaking skin

unfinished memories stick

replay another digit

 

Often I forget other pieces

these regrets sprawled

jogging cider vinegar

I remember taste

 

Blanket filth accompanies

cradling lukewarm tea

sugar numb pain

drinking mine black

 

The days trickle blank noise

pretence streaks made

disposable people

approach the mirror

 

I stare becoming south

discussions create disgust

introducing cognitive flaws

reality swept windwards

 

Other people ring harsh bells

I chime only deaf noise

tea selection remains static

black no sugar strong

Synchronicity and spelling mistakes

Firstly, I am going to point out that I have just been through all the posts in my blog to fix all of my spelling mistakes, there were loads.

I did mean to put public hair in the Marina Abramovich Presents review, but I have since changed it, due to my embarrassment in sloppy English. I have my pre-uni lecturer and friend to thank for pointing this out to me, good job my degree wasn’t in English.

 Oh damn it was

I’ve been thinking a lot today about history and collective guilt.

Reading Malcolm X writing on white people’s guilt for putting the black people down, has made me start to question race, nationality and think about the “collective unconscious.”

 Now I am not somebody who has ever suffered oppression because of Race or Religion, and I don’t know how to feel about the fact that we are all responsible for society’s actions.

Anyway I’m going to finish reading before I return to this,

It made me start thinking of what I refer to as synchronicity, where I think that something is going to happen and therefore it does.

On Sunday for instance Adam and I thought we were going to run into people we knew, but did not know so well and we both did.  Is this an instance of synchronicity I ask myself? Baring in mind we were in Manchester on Sunday.

Doing very little research for fun: here is what I have found

Events are synchronous because cause and effect work together, so when you think about something it transfers into reality.  

An event not causally related, but related through their occurrence in time, such as thinking about the phone ringing and it ringing.

Jung refers to this as a meaningful coincidence

Jung used the evidence of synchronicity to suggest that the collective unconscious exists;

I then learned of apophenia(would be a good band title) this is when connections are assumed when there isn’t any.

Like a book falling to the floor meaning the library is closing.  Or me thinking that apophenia would be a good name for a band and there turning out to be a band with that name and saying “how strange is that?”

Apophenia is controversial!! It may be a sign of a mental disorder

I thought I’d see if there were any funny or lovely stories of synchronous events and I found this

Amazing picture of a bat who hitchhiked a ride on a shuttle into space – mirror.co.uk

funny but not really synchronous