The thoughts & opinions of Sassarella, the Queen of Sass as she cavorts in 's Gravenhage & beyond. Brought to you by CES's (Chief Executive Slaves) of Big Skanky Ho Inc.
Alleen, truly the Big Skany Ho. Why? Because she is biggest, the skankiest, the most ho.
My heavens. That was a hell of an outfit. On both of us.
I got a bike! That's right, folks, I've gone completely Dutch. I now have a bike. I rode in the bike lane. I have bike equipment, like a lock, and carry bags and things. A lovely Dutch gentleman gave me his old bike, which is a big tall old school Raleigh. So far, I've ridden it twice. It's very exciting. I look ridiculous no doubt, but this will probably work wonders on my butt and thighs. I will think I'm cool, though the Dutch will think I'm retarded for my inability to follow street signals. Too bad, Dutch people, I know and my mommy knows that I am c-o-o-l, cool. So there.
In other news, I got rained on and for one very awful morning I had dreads. I forgot that it's salt rain here and if you don't wash it out quickly, you get full-on rasta dreadlocks the next morning, provided, of course, that you have a fricking mop on your head, which, as evidenced by this picture, I certainly do. A few more rainstorms, and I might convert to Rastafarianism just to be consistent with my hair.
I found a coffeeshop two blocks from my house today, as well as a video store. This means that I can spend my evenings in a manner not unlike how I spent them in Canada, only without David and Jess and some Baskins Robbins Bobsled Brownie ice cream, truly the greatest invention known to man. Sweet ice cream. Sweet drugs. Sweet David and Jess.
The resident Rottweiler at this internet cafe is now licking his balls. He's been chemically castrated recently, so I wonder what he gets out of this. Something other than back pain I hope.
Tomorrow I'm going to make an effort to fix up my place, so that it looks semi-decent for my dad's visit. I don't think he's going to like the place, smelly bathroom or no smelly bathroom. Hopefully some nicer furniture will cushion the blow. Sunday, Antwerp baby Antwerp! posted by Alleen at 8:54:30 PM
As promised, the New Year's picture of cuteness:
p.s. Congratulations on vanquishing the smell... posted by Rocketbride at 4:40:12 PM
Tuesday, June 04, 2002
Picture it, my friends, BB King on a stage, thousands of spotlights trained on his massive belly and matching breasts, holding Lucille. The band starts to play softly behind him and all of a sudden he belts out: "The smell is gone!"
Yes, folks, the wierd stench in my bathroom, the bathroom of my much hated apartment is gone. How, you ask?
Well, the landlord called a plumber. This guy showed up at around 8am, him and his buddy, sauntered into my bathroom, and fixed it in about 5 seconds flat. Then he went away and I revelled in the grandeur and majesty of my non-stinky bathroom.
Okay, I have to describe this because it's so wierd. He walked into the bathroom, noticed that I had a drain in the middle of my floor. Obviously this drain doesn't get much use, because it's in the middle of the floor. Apparently, he says to me, there is usually water in drainage pipes. This water prevents the smelliness of the sewer from entering through the drain. But if you don't use the drain much, this water evaporates. So, in a case like this, instead of water, you pour in some oil, which doesn't evaporate and hey presto, no more sewage smell. So here's this guy, this big tall blond Dutch guy, on all fours on the floor of my bathroom, pouring my cooking oil down a drain at 8am. Was it worth waking up in the morning for that?
Anyway. No more smell. As he was leaving, he gives me the wink and the gun and says, maybe next time I can pour down some garlic and chives.
And my phone works too. I even got a wrong number today. posted by Alleen at 2:46:43 PM
Sunday, June 02, 2002
I was looking through the archives of the Varsity Online and I found the funniest CD review known to man. I don't think that enough people read this the first time around, so I've reproduced it here. I wish I'd written this. I really wish I had. Props to Noel Nichol, though, wherever he may be.
Various Spitfire Records – A Heavy Metal Compilation EMI
Heavy fucking metal. First we are attacked by the black vengeance of Ronnie Dio’s band DIO, who delivers a blasphemous blast of blasphemy straight from the horrifying depths of hell. Songs like “Lord of the Last Day” will forever sanctify DIO’s reputation as true gods of heavy fucking metal!!
Metal maniacs prepare to melt your minds. The much feared and hated Hair of the Dog return with the songs “Rise” and “Can’t Fight You,” both of which possessed my soul with pure evil! I had no choice but to slam my body to the frothing stomping madness of their satanic metallic beat. My neck is still sore from the head banging that Hair inflicted upon me. Of this you can be sure!
It was while carving a pentagram into my arm that the insane madness of Union first injected its shrieking guitars into my metalified mind. “Dream Weaver.” Man, that song touched my heart. My black evil heavy fucking metal heart, you bastards.
Zack Wylde. Dude! Zack Wylde played with the living god of metal Ozzy Ozbourne. I had no choice but to place both my hands in the metal position and offer my soul unto the dark lord. Heavy fucking Metal! The song “Counterfeit God” must be considered among the greatest song-writing achievements in the bloody saga of the human race! LONG LIVE METAL!
Okay, it's a whorehouse. Not surprisingly, the tasteful poster, the little plaque, and the nice location in a nice neighbourhood only serve to point out that the Mayfair is an upscale whorehouse. Obviously I can't go in without an undue expenditure of my currently greatly depleted funds, but I can certainly imagine what it's like. Probably big and swanky, with whores in it. Maybe they do wierd things like in Eyes Wide Shut. Maybe they're all like Dolly Parton in the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (is that what that movie is called? I'm not sure.) I guess the basics of the transaction are still more or less the same though.
Other than that, nothing much to report. Didn't make it to Antwerp this weekend, again, and the truth is I'll probably miss it next weekend. I went to the Ethnic Market in Den Haag instead, and a crappier collection of junk you'll never see again this side of the Atlantic. On the plus side, one whole section of it is dominated by fruit stalls, which sell some seriously gorgeous and cheap fruit, and another section has fresh fish. Yummy fish. Fish that has only recently emerged from the sea, so it kind of lies there looking at you, like maybe it's passing judgement on your outfit or the fact that you don't eat all that much fish. Yummy fish.
If you buy one and tell them to cut it up, they'll do it for you right there, with large knives. It makes a hell of mess, but at the end you get neat little fillets or whatever you asked for. This put me right off the fish for some reason, (or maybe it was the fact that I was carrying around a huge watermelon and didn't have room for fish) so I didn't buy any. Yummy fish.
On the plus side, I now have a big bag of grapefruit, so we can all breathe a sigh of relief that I won't die of scurvy. It will have to be something more mundane for me, like a car accident, or falling off my couch (yesterday morning, like a big loser), or maybe all this damn exercise and sunshine I've been getting in my desperate search for the KPN store, so that I can have a phone and maybe even some internet at home. Here's hoping. posted by Alleen at 2:15:23 PM
