Chernobyl’s once-thriving pet industry faced many challenges in the early nineties.
I Can Almost See The Finish Line From Here.
This has been one of the busiest work weeks of my existence. Midnight oil, multiple client meetings – and it’s not over yet. Friday is chock full of phone calls too. But the end is in sight. I can almost see the trophy, and it’s made of Mousakka. I have a lovely little list of weekend plans, including but not limited to – getting all Greek, a deep conversation about squirrel fishing, hot chocolate and perhaps even a new desk if the GoonSquad will allow.
My phone has been ringing off the hook with aggrivated clients like it’s my job. Actually, it is my job – but the way things have been going I’m starting to feel like P-Diddy had his digits been published on the PETA website. I’m not sure if I like that reference, but it’s late and I’m going to stick with it.
It’s been a busy 7 days, but one of the more eventful of my knucklehead life. I don’t usually call my shots, but things are getting interesting again. Although, it’s probably just the medication.
Wednesday Wadio: Inspiral Carpets ‘This Is How It Feels’.
“Behind the Roses and Mondays, Inspiral Carpets were always imagined as the third of a triumvirate…”
So maybe I’m feeling a little Manchester tonight, again. Back in the early 90’s I didn’t really like this Carpets‘ song. I much preferred ‘Joe’ and ‘Commercial Rain‘ or anything off of ‘Revenge of the Goldfish’. But this is the only one of their songs that has really endured for me. Classic Manc from that period, with heavy multiple organs fluttering over a 3-part harmony (which I think is all the one singer, Tom Hingley). Drop an ‘E’, get in line at the Hacienda and click on Radio Pye.
‘This is How it Feels’ is “distinctive and specifically northern in flavor”. The Carpets early songs, all pretty much backed with organs, influenced The Charlatans and many other bands from the era – “it’s worth noting how ubiquitous Hammond-style keyboards became in British music over the next few years — most notably with Portishead and PJ Harvey.” I remember I had this song on a little tape I would listen to right after I’d gotten my driver’s license. As I clutched the wheel white-kuckled, I’d bop along and carefully try not to hit any Concordians.
“Hardly bandwagon jumpers, they were playing their psychedelic punk pop in the mid-eighties way before anyone was putting the ‘Mad’ into Manchester.”
Their popularity was helped along early on by a crappy T-Shirt that became all the rage in the English city. It was simply a cow’s head with “Moo! Cool As Fuck” emblazoned underneath. Incidentally, this was also the name of their greatest hits album that was released in 2003. The band flared up and died out very quickly, enjoying a lifespan of about 6 years and 4 albums, but they remain a fun timecapsule of the era. And thank goodness I wasn’t old enough to be able to afford bell-bottoms at the time.
Let’s Talk About The Greek Salad I Had Today For A Second.
Between getting my tooth fixed, and running reports, I’ve had little time to come up for air today. But perhaps I can take just a moment just to talk about the amazing salads coming out of Emilio’s at the moment. Coal miners are dying, a mummified woman was found in front of her TV, Lou Rawls shuffled off and Alito’s on deck – but none of this will ever interest me as much as a South American Fire Anthill-sized mound of feta cheese. Except maybe the fact that The Shield starts tonight.
Did a loose, giant Greek mouse make this salad? I don’t know. I can sort of picture one, with a moustache and a bottle of Ouzo – sneaking into the kitchen and getting all crazy with the fromage, before then sodomizing anything with a pulse. I mean, this was truly remarkable. Like a remake of Close Encounters with Dreyfuss using crumbly white goodness to sculpt that mountain in his house instead of mashed potatoes. Just like that.
Whoever was working the lunch shift today obviously had no idea how much feta costs. And I sincerely hope they don’t read this site and get clued in all of a sudden. Because I hear I’m big with the Brazilians. I would instead encourage them to think of it as a sort of condiment. Emilio, when you throw the 5 bags of ketchup in the bag, go ahead and fire in a $7 block of my own personal dairy crack right on top. No, it’s fine. Grows on trees and costs less than matchbooks. There’s a good Emilio.
I need to go home.
Monday’s Quotelet: Turn Your Head And Coffee.
I like my women like I like my coffee – sewn into a burlap sack and thrown across the shoulders of an Argentinian.