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[13 Apr 2008|12:39am] |
Another torrid evening, and another seventy. It looks like the weekends are once again, kicking. I did myself no great harm by tonight being the everyman. I was kitchen porter, I was starter chef. Dan and David were incredible upfront, despite the flurry of orders. We were under the kosch, but we rocked it. I helped with starters, I was out by eleven thirty, guzzling in quick succession the Murhpys in pints of three.
Absolutely knackering, but ultimately rewarding, I feel.
Christ, my hand looks huge in that picture. What is it, a clown's hand?
Her darkness is divine, in her light, I am blind. I clatter against walls, drunk and desiring. Her eyes tease me from the hiding place, I am on all fours, like an animal. I want to kiss her lips, I want to lay promise on her fingertips. I wish she would come to me in the night, and that her hair would hang against my brow. I am in love, yet I am not. I am confusion, yet I am more in control that I have ever been.
A beautiful mess. Come and see me, my aphrodite. Lay upon me and breathe my life to purity.
Goodnight, kids.
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[13 Apr 2008|11:33am] |
Do you remember that last week I told you Dan David and I had taken a picture? Our handsome faces, all together, in a chortlesome candid. Or Kitchen Awesome, in other words. Well, I was going to scan the resultant picture and show it to you. The picture, has gone forever. But the attempted print out didn't quite go to plan.
Dan and Dave went to ASDA on Monday.
"Yeah, you can print 'em out in ASDA for seven pence each, mate." beamed Dan. Dave's response was positive.
"Bargain! Let's go! YEAH MATE!"
So they went to ASDA and linked up the camera with the picture on, as well as some others we'd taken. Somehow, the twisted gnarled finger of fate decreed that this was not to go smoothly. They didn't end up with pitctures of us, they ended up with miles and miles of till reciept, with - get this - my face, elongated and stretched, along the entire length of miles of reciept.
"Yeah mate, you could have stretched it around the world!" said Dan. "And it had your mouth on it, blown up well big"
Dan and Dave legged it from ASDA, discarding the till roll. So now, an employee of ASDA will have found an earth length stretch of reciept. With my face all over it.
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[13 Apr 2008|05:07pm] |
If, as is ever likelier the more time wears on I do not achieve my ambition of becoming famous for writing poetry or sketches about Sir Shittington, I decide to rely on the catering industry, I may not find it so difficult an area to break into. I appear to have over the years with no real qualifications at all managed to acquire certain skills, outside the actual contracted requirements of my proffession. I can now prepare and send various types of food, including the starters I mentioned last night. I have discovered that a little presentation makes a difference, and I have to say that I have learned well from my chef counterparts, especially Dan, whom takes a particular interest in what i'm doing. This is one reason why I like Daniel, it's because he's encouraging towards my need to experience and learn new working things.
You lot would have liked them, honest. I made some trout starters, some liver (Yes, there is a liver starter), and a pate or two. All nicely arranged. All while I was doing my usual washing up. That's a term I hate, but it's the only one for what I do that isn't patronising. Kitchen Porter, my fucking bell end. I'm a washer up. But I have desire to learn. And I have. I can also now assist in preperation of other things.
So, you could say that from what was a rather mediocre existence of unemployment, I have carved myself something of a niche. I don't like what this village does to me, and I don't like being here a lot, but I am constantly good at my job and good at adding strings to my bow. That gives me some satisfaction.
On that subject, the weekend has been very busy. Today was a pig's arsehole of a shift. Not in the least bit enjoyable. But every shift pays, and it pays my way to greater things. Like America Part II: Californiacation. I hope I don't meet the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.
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[13 Apr 2008|05:20pm] |
Tentatively, i've been keeping a cautious eye, with some sort of trepedatious focus on the flight prices. British Airways (Good old chicken chassuer!) are the most stable, I think, give or take the fuck ups at Terminal 5 (A name now taken literally by most passengers using it). It's currently 524 pounds. I can easily afford this, and a bit more besides. It's well worth it, I think. I shall swoop in May, but I really need to confirm other things too.
Still, life's all about risks, eh?
I need to think carefully. If I get the afternoon flight, I can fly out the day after I am off work. It would be at four in the afternoon too, because I quite fancy an evening flight.
What will America bring this time?
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[13 Apr 2008|05:43pm] |
I want to buy some more Frasier, but...er..what? What's happened here?
Don't be sad. It's not real. I just changed the text.
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