Took out maybe 4 old ladies in the brutal bastion of capitalistic carnage that is the Oerlikon produce market.
How will the Turtles fare against their newest, tangiest foe, Rhubarb-X?
Can Spider Man possibly stop the Hobgoblin’s relentless vegan protégé, Vegetal??
Is this tiny zucchini ON FIRE or merely flowering?!?!
Last weekend went to Milano.
Off the scale seafood food explosion. At a Sardinian restaurant called Osteria Al Molo 13 the waiter quickly picked up on our inability to order italian food, much to our benefit.
“Antipasti for 6?” said he.
“No, just for 3,” said we.
Even though we were 6 I think we were trying to be conservative so we would have room for more courses later. I don’t know if what he brought was intended to be for 3 or 6, but it was enough for 10.
Huge plate of perfect steamed mussels, huge bowl of mixed seafood with arugula + lemon juice, huge pan of shells baked with bread-crumbs and scallops or shrimp, tiny squid tentacles in chili sauce with polenta, undersea snails (not as good as escargot, but deadlier shells), all totally awesome.
Pasta course (a whole course just for awesome pasta, awesome) == fresh tagliatelle with seafood & minitomato sauce.
A whole lobster sliced in half cooked in OO, minitomatoes, onions, very simple. Perfectly cooked. I call them minitomatoes because it sounds cooler and they actually taste good, unlike most cherry tomatoes I’ve had.
After of course the espresso that somehow the rest of the world can’t figure out how to make.
Then they just leave chilled bottles of limoncello and a sardinian booze called mirto–which looks and tastes exactly like robitussin–on the table and walk away. I guess they assume that you won’t/can’t drink a lot of it; they are wrong.
I have a theorem that the Italians and French are the only ones who can make decent loaf of bread because they’re the only ones who can consistently make decent sauces that are *worth* licking the plate clean of. But as you know, noses get in the way of plate licking, thus bread was invented.
The only problem all command-line all-the-time in fullscreen-sized xterms or ratpoison, the bad-as-fuck windowless X window manager is that your cursor is always at the bottom of the screen, which is the least convenient place to have it, ergonomically. How does one solve that problem?
Does anyone actually like spell check while you type?
Yesterday I had two hours off, today is a holiday, saturday is NOT a holiday, sunday is of course sunday (I think the only officially condoned activies are walking around and sitting silently) AND easter, which I think rules out walking, and monday is a holiday. Saturday is always crazy shopping day for the whole of Zürich; now it will be 5x worse because of the enveloping not-allowed-to-do-anything days.
to me, a metal show in is like rainbow-flavoured kitties frolicking in a meadow full of delicious raspberry ice cream
i believe the name of this song was state of the pigs, as in: we don’t wanna live in the
My mom is a dealer
http://indexed.blogspot.com/2007/03/they-look-so-innocent.html
I noticed this morning that I haven’t smoked a cigarette in over a year. Now I have to give up something else that is killing me faster than normal speed death approach. Fear? Addiction to material items? Rock-Bash-Rock-Head?
I just spoke the sentence “You have to download the jars to your ears before the ejbs will work.” A voice in my head is screaming that something has gone horribly wrong. It’s not supposed to be like this.
Night before last we went to yet another Indian restaurant. This particular one was chosen partly because it was close to Celine’s apartment, but mostly because its web site advertised BOWLING@#(%&, or Kegelbahn as the germans say in german. Apparently it’s called skittles in britain. Wankers.
skittle |ˈskitl| noun 1 (skittles) [treated as sing. ] a game played, chiefly in Britain, with wooden pins, typically nine in number, set up at the end of an alley to be bowled down with a wooden ball or disk.
1st good sign: From the outside it looks like a seedy 2nd-story Juarez bar where old men drink tequila and wait for Anthony Banderas to come shoot them. 2nd good sign: On the inside there is a floor-to-ceiling sculped banyan tree in the middle of the room and branches with leaves sticking out of walls. It is completely awesome: the craftsmanship and attention to detail impressive; the garishness blatant; the sheer ballsiness of putting a fucking tree in the middle of your restaurant admirable. There is also a carved canoe filled with gourds.
Food was very good and actually spicy which is unusual for Zürich. I’ll definitely be back to try the… Exotic Tandoori Ostrich. Wait, OSTRICH!?!
And then the bowling machine in the basement. The Kegelbahn machine is Swiss or German (i.e. HaRD-CoRE), has a pig on it, and is circa 1950s. The mechanism is amazing. Well-designed, yet ancient and mechanical unlike our modern whirleygigs. Rube Goldberg-esque; pullies and pins on ropes and conveyor belts and serious robot light buttons. I thought about how much more impressively designed and built the thing was than any of the enterprise software I’m forced to use for my job every day.
Crazy wooden balls with HUGE holes cut out of the sides to accomodate hands up to gorilla size. They “roll” lumpily and veer sharply if thrown without sufficient force. The atmosphere completed by the tiny your-grandpas-basement-if-your-grandpa-was-indian, 6’2″ ceilings, cheap boom box, and two cds each containing 1/2 of the soundtrack that they use for all Bollywood movies. It even has the smell down.
Celine posted pictures: http://flickr.com/photos/c-space.
PS Celine has done an excellent job of photodocumenting Swiss interestingness lately.