May I start off by drawing your attention, kind folk, to the apparent similarity between Johnny Rotten circa 1977 and my son, Felix, circa bathtime last night. I am proud, so proud.
A short post, dear readers, before the missuz, the bairns, and I head away tomorrow for the long Easter weekend. We're off to Mayne Island for a spot of rest, relaxation, and otter-bothering. And guess what??? We'll have NO internet connexion! Nor will we have cable! Can you believe it?? We may even be forced to *gasp!* talk with each other.
I bought some lovely cheese today, which I am looking forward to enjoying. Yes, this is what blogging is all about, telling you of my cheese. I get it now. Anyway, decent cheese was one thing I feared missing in Vancouver - the Canadian stuff is largely tasteless wax. So thank GOODNESS for Les Amis du Fromage (sacre bleu, formidable, quelle chance!), a veritable temple of the pressed curd. I picked up a nice bit of Mimolette Vieux, a slab of Manchego, and half a log of a wonderfully runny ashed French goat's cheese. ZAP! BUZZZ!! Dang, drooled on the keyboard...
Helas, I must flit away, but before I do, allow me to draw it all together yet again...
Captain & Tennille - Love Will Keep Us Together (buy here, if you must)
Sex Pistols - Holidays in the Sun (buy here, yes you must)
Public Image Ltd - Poptones/Careering on American Bandstand, 1980 (most brilliant, you must watch here)
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Cheese is the new punk rock
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2 comments:
M'sieu FiL, you would have loved the party I was at two weekends ago - there was more cheese there on one table than I've ever seen - a lovely epoisse, some manchego, a fol d'epi - yum yum yum! Plus Blitz, Toots & the Maytals and la lovely Kate on the ster-ery-ery-o.
Is Felix indulging in some Anarchy in the pre-K?
Ah, Bishakh, sounds absolutely divine! Wot I wouldn't do for a spot of the old crinkly, orange-rinded Epoisse. And the soundtrack! "Do you feel alright? (Oi Oi Oi!) Have some cheese tonight!!"
Colin, thanks for boosting my already inflated paternal pride. What I remember most about the CJ gig were the scores (well, maybe half-a-score) of wispily coiffed Roberst Smith-alikes. I couldn't figure it out until the strains of "A Forest" gronked out of the amps and the wee Cure-ites began to mosh. Didn't know they had it in them...
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