The title of this post is a recurring line from the song, “Mother Nature” by Swedish artist, Andi Almqvist. I usually don’t do music reviews or recommendations but, seriously folks, you gotta listen to this guy. His hauntingly beautiful lyrics are the result of a personal tragedy of the worst kind, the death of his son.
Here are a couple of selections, “Mother Nature”
And “Low Dive Jenny.” This one gives me the shivers.
My French, I know,
Is beaucoup bad.
So, please pardonnez.
Mais oui, c’est vrais.
But it is an homage,
(Another French word)
To those trousers blue,
Worn by me and you.
We think of them,
As American, but,
They came from France,
Those indigo pants.
More precisely from,
La Ville de Nîmes.
From whence denim came,
And got its name.
So I’d just like to say,
Merci beaucoup.
Sans jeans I’d be nude,
And I’d hate to be rude.
I felt the rain,
Late tonight,
Against my pane,
So I thought I might,
Take a chance,
In the wee wee hours,
When neighbours slept,
And enjoy the showers,
So out I crept,
With a dark porchlight,
Into the rain,
And it felt so right,
To stand there naked.
From cleanshaven vegan
To bearded carnivore,
Like to mix and fix and tricks it up,
See what life has in store,
A million crayons in the box,
Though they say there’s sixty-four,
Don’t fool me with your silly talks,
I know there’s so much more,
Want to be and free and see it all,
Shake it up down to the core,
Do things I think I haven’t thought,
Too much world to ignore,
Want to sail away on brand new waves,
And never come ashore,
Climb highest hills dive deepest caves,
Open every single door,
People, places, points of views,
Experience galore,
Whatever direction you choose,
Life should not be a bore,
No new chance should you refuse,
Stop meowing and roar!
It’s all just sitting there for you,
What are you waiting for?
Don’t wait, create, go celebrate,
Life’s not meant to be a chore,
And beige,
Is not a colour.
I’m a kitten. Don’t know better.
Wanted to escape the weather.
Now I’m alone and stuck up here.
A tiny little ball of fear.
For my life has just begun.
Should be full of joy and fun.
But instead it’s full of strife.
As I hold on for dear life.
Not knowing what’s to come.
Or what happened to my mom.
Holding on and holding tight,
As I scream with all my might.
A tiny noise. May not go far,
Over the engine of the car.
Can you hear me? Cease to drive!
And I might make it out alive.
Oh please! Please come and get me.
Give me lots of love and pet me.
I swear I’ll be a loving friend.
And I’m never doing this again!
Inspired by this news article: Kitten straddles gas tank in 70-km ride of terror
I don’t believe in pseudo-science, I’m a Skeptic. UFOs, the Flying Spaghetti Monsters, the Loch Ness lake monster, are all bullshit. I repeat: BULLSHIT. However, if there was indeed intelligent life out there wishing to conquer earth and ravage us, I believe that they scanned our planet and found the following music videos before they decided that this planet is definitely not worth it!
When it’s a medical center. Even if it calls itself a hospital.
I left work early yesterday because I was feeling very poorly: dizzy, lightheaded, disoriented, and feeling in my head as if I was riding a roller coaster. I told my boss I had to leave and he told me to go to the nearest hospital. He even offered to put me in a taxi and pay for me to get there, but I said I could probably make it on my own. Anyway, I called Tobias (Swedish boyfriend) and he said he’d meet me at Capio Lundby Hospital, since it was the nearest one. At least I thought it was.
When we got there the staff seemed confused as to why we were there, since this was apparently not a hospital but a local clinic or medical center (vårdcentral in Swedish), despite the fact that the sign on the outside clearly reads, “Hospital.”
“So, uh… why did you come here?” the receptionist asked.
“I need to see a doctor right away and this is nearest hospital to where I live.” I said.
“Oh,” she said, “Well, that’s an easy mistake to make. It says hospital on the building but it’s not really a hospital. We don’t take emergency patients. For that you need to go to one of the emergency hospitals.”
She agreed that it was a stupid rule but that rules are rules.
At this point, I began to get really upset, since I was feeling genuinely awful and no one seemed willing to help me. They then took me into a room and let me sit down while a very kind and sympathetic nurse talked to me and calmed me down. She looked up the number of my neurologist and had Tobias call his office. He didn’t speak to the doctor but after giving an explanation of my symptoms to one of the nurses there, it was I suggested I go to the emergency room ASAP.
The problem was that the nearest emergency room was across town, and it would take us an hour to get there on public transport. So, the hospital/medical center arranged for a taxi to take us there at their expense. They did seem sincerely sorry that they couldn’t treat me and were being as helpful as they could. The taxi ride took about fifteen minutes.
Eventually I was admitted to triage and was seen to by a whole team of nurses and doctors. They did an EKG test, took lots of blood and urine, asked me a bunch of questions, and fixed me right up. It was nice that I didn’t have to wait very long either. It was the shortest emergency room visit I ever experienced. In and out in about two hours time.
So, to make a long story short, if you ever find yourself in Sweden and need to go to the emergency room, make sure that the hospital you go to really is a proper emergency hospital. Not all of them are. I found out the hard way.
I love dictionaries. I really do. They’re almost porn to total word nerds such as myself. All those lovely words. I used to read them (along with the encyclopedias) when I was a kid. An excessively weird kid. As I’ve discussed previously.
Anyway, today I was flipping through the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) to pass the time while my students were working on an in-class writing assignment. Eventually I intend to read the definition of every single word in the OED. I know, how very Malcolm X of me. Yet, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to achieve this feat since the unabridged version of the OED is comprised of several thick volumes that are revised and updated regularly. This is because the English language is the most dynamic language in the world, and new words are being added to it all the time.
There are several words in the A section that I feel are particularly noteworthy. Aardvark is worth mentioning because it’s the first actual word in the OED. It’s apparently a large nocturnal burrowing animal that lives in South Africa. The word itself is in Afrikaans, which is a South African dialect derived from the Dutch language.
The next word that I was a bit taken aback to see in the OED is “Aargh!” You know, the sound people make when they are frightened, angry or frustrated. This is an example of an onomatopoeia, a word which is the spelling of a sound. Other examples include: meow, beep and plop.
Finally, there is the word abreast . It’s normally associated with walking side by side, as in, “The stroller pushers were walking three abreast on the sidewalk, so I was forced to walk into oncoming traffic to get around them.” (Yes, this actually happened.)
Despite its pedestrian definition, this word is the subject of oh so many bad puns and jokes for obvious reasons. It’s one of those old-fashioned words that nobody ever uses anymore because speaking it aloud would cause everyone in the area to titter like teenagers in a sex-ed class. Now that I think about it, the word titter also causes people to titter in the same way.
…call Ginger at the Morrisville, NC branch of TruGreen. Her number is: 919.481.1172. Please be sure to ask for the High Priestess Kang stalking special.
In 2010, fed up with my trainwreck of a garden, I contracted TruGreen for service. I freely admit that I was beyond excited since Dock wants nothing to do with yard maintenance and there is very little I can do with my deteriorating spine. Alas, like many things in this wicked world, TruGreen broke my heart. Shattered it in a billion pieces, I tell you.
TruGreen couldn’t be arsed to keep to its agreement. As I mumbled many times over, it was if I had to call TruGreen and remind it that I had bags of money at my house with its name on it. The service was that horrendous.
2011 rolled around and I figured I would give them a chance at redemption, mostly out of sheer laziness on my part. This was a very poor decision.
After waiting twelve weeks for service that should be performed at six-to-eight week. intervals, I gave up. Then…the phone call came. TruGreen wanted to swing by to seed my lawn for a not so nominal fee. At this point, I cancelled the agreement. It’s just not worth doing business with an organization that drives you batty. The customer service rep I spoke with was entirely ambivalent but agreed to terminate the contract.
Shortly after noon today, a TruGreen truck was idling right in front of my house. Rather than dealing with otherwise lovely men who do not speak English well, I called the local office. It is my lucky day. Ginger answered the phone.
I begin to explain the situation, express my displeasure with the truck idling outside of my house, etc… and cunty Ginger says “Well, it’s not as if they are stalking you.”
Aaaaah. Wrong. Words.
/me waggles tentacle
You know, in this stellar economy, where jobs are abundant, it would be prudent to maintain a professional decorum lest one ends up with a pink slip in their grubby paws and no opportunity for unemployment. Either Ginger is sucking some major TruGreen cock or she is as dumb as a fence post. Perhaps it’s both. I have never met her.
I will say that I do not plan on meeting Ginger. I find her narrow lexicon tedious and do not necessarily appreciate dealing with a snotty customer service troll who thinks she is omnipotent because she is paid to speak on the phone.
Look…we all know customer service jobs suck. We all know these people are abused by angry customers and they’re not compensated well. That’s fine. But when you turn your vitriol on me, please do not sound appalled when I call you a pedantic, little shit in return.
So…if you’re looking for something to do today, go ahead and call Ginger. Alternatively, if you live in the Raleigh-Durham area of North Carolina, you should consider refraining from contracting TruGreen. Unless, of course, you like talking naughty cunts like Ginger.
Random Misanthrope 