Busted!
Hello fiends
I'm afraid for those of you hoping that today's blog is about the early naughties (a ridiculous time expression) boyband Busted, you will be sadly mistaken. However, it will hopefully be more entertaining.
I've actually called it this because I was apprehended by a bus inspector for not paying for a ticket. I tried to play the 'I'm a foreigner' card, but sadly said-inspector turned out to be the only one with an education, and he spoke pretty good English. I also tried to weedle out of it by telling a porky pie, but again, he didn't accept this and in fairness, his English was pretty good when he explained to me that the jig was up. He asked where I lived, and as I honestly didn't know what building number it was, I made one up. I was then racked with fear that I'd inadvertently guessed my actual number, and so would receive a fine in the post, but thankfully all my good karma-related work came back back to help me, and I guessed someone else's building.
Michael 1 the man 0. It's a 40 euro fine, which frankly I have no intention of paying, as they'll be unable to track me down. Stevie and I have joked that they'll deport me in a Steve-Buscemi-off-of-Con-Air way, but unless they show a decidedly un-Italian sense of beaurocratic efficiency, I shouldn't be getting led of my return flight in manacles and a jump suit.
I know it's not big or clever, and although I make allusions to both, I don't actually believe I'm the latter, so I don't really mind.
In other news, in a moment of Nostradamus-like clairvoyancy, I think I may meet my end trying to get out of the bath/shower/seat. I'm just too damned gangly, and for those who wonder what it's like to have a shower while sitting down, let me tell you, it's quite tricky, and doesn't work as well as I would like. Also, as it has a seat, it's pretty hard to stand up, which is why I think I might slip, fall, and die a thoroughly un-rock'n'roll death. Fingers crossed I don't though. If I do, you heard it hear first, in the futire I'd like some kooks to believe the following outlandish claims: Hibs will win the Scottish Cup within 5 years, George W Bush will be remembered as a modern day genius, and McDonald's sell high-quality food from sustainable, ethically sourced producers.
My neighbour directly below my room seems to enjoy the marijuana while listening to the worst dance music this side of Amsterdam. I don't really mind the former as it billows into my room, but as for the latter, it's terrible, and he plays it quite loudly at unsociable times. I would go and have a word in his ear (he's just a child so no fear of angry reprisals), but I don't think me swearing at him in English would change anything. At first I though he fancied himself as a budding Carl Cox or Paul van Dik (name deliberately misspelt) and was trying to mix, but I've decided that it's just really badly produced piddle (the beat doesn't seem to follow any pattern and is occassionally interspersed with funny synth noises. I'm not laughing though).
One night he was playing it quite late and I heard his dad come in his room and shout at him. The music stopped and then the child started to half-cry/half-reply like a 5 year old. I generally don't condone physical violence, however, I hope he gave him a good rap round the chops.
I went to see Sampdoria v Kaunas the other night, and was amazed at the Lithuanian's lack of general football skills. The stadium was only about half full, but the atmosphere was still pretty good. Samp won at a canter, 5-0, but it should have been a few more. I half expected to hear a chant of "You're shite and you know you are" (which I did learn earlier today but have now forgotten), but sadly, although the Italian's might be better at football than us, they don't have the same imagination when it comes to insulting songs. I will try to rectify this when I go to see Samp v Juventus next weekend.
I think that's all folks. Barring me being thrown in jail for refusal to pay my fine, I'll try to update this stream of consciousness in the not too distant future.
Until then, arrivederci.
I'm afraid for those of you hoping that today's blog is about the early naughties (a ridiculous time expression) boyband Busted, you will be sadly mistaken. However, it will hopefully be more entertaining.
I've actually called it this because I was apprehended by a bus inspector for not paying for a ticket. I tried to play the 'I'm a foreigner' card, but sadly said-inspector turned out to be the only one with an education, and he spoke pretty good English. I also tried to weedle out of it by telling a porky pie, but again, he didn't accept this and in fairness, his English was pretty good when he explained to me that the jig was up. He asked where I lived, and as I honestly didn't know what building number it was, I made one up. I was then racked with fear that I'd inadvertently guessed my actual number, and so would receive a fine in the post, but thankfully all my good karma-related work came back back to help me, and I guessed someone else's building.
Michael 1 the man 0. It's a 40 euro fine, which frankly I have no intention of paying, as they'll be unable to track me down. Stevie and I have joked that they'll deport me in a Steve-Buscemi-off-of-Con-Air way, but unless they show a decidedly un-Italian sense of beaurocratic efficiency, I shouldn't be getting led of my return flight in manacles and a jump suit.
I know it's not big or clever, and although I make allusions to both, I don't actually believe I'm the latter, so I don't really mind.
In other news, in a moment of Nostradamus-like clairvoyancy, I think I may meet my end trying to get out of the bath/shower/seat. I'm just too damned gangly, and for those who wonder what it's like to have a shower while sitting down, let me tell you, it's quite tricky, and doesn't work as well as I would like. Also, as it has a seat, it's pretty hard to stand up, which is why I think I might slip, fall, and die a thoroughly un-rock'n'roll death. Fingers crossed I don't though. If I do, you heard it hear first, in the futire I'd like some kooks to believe the following outlandish claims: Hibs will win the Scottish Cup within 5 years, George W Bush will be remembered as a modern day genius, and McDonald's sell high-quality food from sustainable, ethically sourced producers.
My neighbour directly below my room seems to enjoy the marijuana while listening to the worst dance music this side of Amsterdam. I don't really mind the former as it billows into my room, but as for the latter, it's terrible, and he plays it quite loudly at unsociable times. I would go and have a word in his ear (he's just a child so no fear of angry reprisals), but I don't think me swearing at him in English would change anything. At first I though he fancied himself as a budding Carl Cox or Paul van Dik (name deliberately misspelt) and was trying to mix, but I've decided that it's just really badly produced piddle (the beat doesn't seem to follow any pattern and is occassionally interspersed with funny synth noises. I'm not laughing though).
One night he was playing it quite late and I heard his dad come in his room and shout at him. The music stopped and then the child started to half-cry/half-reply like a 5 year old. I generally don't condone physical violence, however, I hope he gave him a good rap round the chops.
I went to see Sampdoria v Kaunas the other night, and was amazed at the Lithuanian's lack of general football skills. The stadium was only about half full, but the atmosphere was still pretty good. Samp won at a canter, 5-0, but it should have been a few more. I half expected to hear a chant of "You're shite and you know you are" (which I did learn earlier today but have now forgotten), but sadly, although the Italian's might be better at football than us, they don't have the same imagination when it comes to insulting songs. I will try to rectify this when I go to see Samp v Juventus next weekend.
I think that's all folks. Barring me being thrown in jail for refusal to pay my fine, I'll try to update this stream of consciousness in the not too distant future.
Until then, arrivederci.
posted by michael | 09:35
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