I want to do everything, and that seems to be a problem. We have a week long break coming up, and I simply don't know what to do, for the simple reason that I simply want to do every damn thing I can in the entire United Kingdom. The house where J.M. Barrie grew up in Scotland is "on display" as a museum and gift shop, and fuck yeah I wanna go there. While we're on the topic, I wanna go to the Kensington Gardens in London to see the Peter Pan statue that Barrie designed in the early 1900's. I wanna go to Edinburgh. I wanna go to Loch Ness and find the damn monster everyone's been freaking out about. While I'm there I also wanna walk around wearing a fanny pack, sneakers, jorts, and a T-Shirt that says "I <3> Nessie".
Point is, I don't have enough time to do all this shit. And, moreover, I don't think anyone's interested in taking a 9-hour train ride to Scotland to see J.M. Barrie's suburbian home.
I reckon I'll figure something out. I always do, I'm scrappy like that.
At any rate.
The lingo of England is something to be admired. Many words can mean many different things. Take, for instance, the word "cheers".
Woman walks up to another woman standing on the street corner. They're old friends, Jane and Julia, who haven't spoken to each other in a while. This is the first time they've seen each other in...6 months. Let's watch.
Jane: Julia! Cheers! I heard about your baby, cheeers!
Julia: Going to Hawaii I hear? Cheers on your trip!
Jane: Oh bollocks, I'm out of pence, could I borrow 20 p to catch the coach?
Julia: Cheers, 'course you can, here you go.
Jane: Cheers for this, best be off, cheers.
Julia: Ta! Talk to you soon, cheers!
Also, the brits have rather interesting habits when it comes to bachelor parties (no, I haven't seen the Hangover). In England they call bachelor parties "stag parties" and bachelorette parties are called "hen parties". Hen parties are generally benign and consist of a bunch of women dressing up in whore outfits (Brittney Spears, Madonna, slutty nuns, etc.) and walking about town wearing sashes that say "so-and-so's Hen Party! Cheers!". Stag parties are a little more intense. I was talking to a taxi driver the other day with Kate Kelly and he told us how stag parties generally involved the obvious (drunkenness) and the slightly less obvious (public nudity). One time, he said, he was driving his cab around Cambridge at 6 in the morning and saw a drunk naked man duct-taped to a pole. His friends had left him there all night, poor soul.
That's what you get for getting married.
I'm in a hostel in Exeter, and the song that goes "how can we dance while the Earth is turning? How can we sleep while our beds are burning?" came on the radio and I automatically thought of Hambone and Hunter and their European trip and how they heard that song everywhere they went. Honestly, it's all 80's and techno all the time, baby. So be it.
I messed up hard core yesterday. We traveled, as a group, by bus to Bath. So I didn't need my special Britrail pass to take the train or anything. But...I needed it for today and tomorrow, because obviously I had to get to Exeter and tomorrow I'm going to Stonehenge. I forgot it. I woke up the day we were supposed to leave for Bath at 7:13 A.M. clutching my cell phone like I was in rigor mortis, the alarm obviously silenced for good. We were supposed to be on the bus by 7:15. I made it there by 7:20, and forgot the Britrail pass. Remembered when we got to Bath, though, so it was (through much pomp and circumstance) courriered to me (personally) today. Someone actually got in a car, with my britrail pass, and drove it across the country. People actually do that shit. And it's gonna cost me 40 pounds! These courrier dudes make bank, traveling across the country like the fucking Pony Express, delivering shit, and getting paid in cash to do it. I want that job. I would love that job.
I could be a courrier, couldn't I?
We partied in Bath, which was kinda funny because the whole point of Bath during the 18th and 19th centuries was to see and be seen, promenade and find a husband and all that shit. And we embodied that in our clubbing experience. At least, we embodied the part about seeing, I'm not so sure we necessarily wanted to be seen. At least I didn't. I tried to blend in. But it's difficult when Kate and Eissa find the stripper pole...
We wound up at this bar/restaurant that was having a trivia night, and Kate and I completely owned everyone.
I'm dog fucking tired. I'll give you more later.
P. I. Staker
That's what you get for getting married.
I'm in a hostel in Exeter, and the song that goes "how can we dance while the Earth is turning? How can we sleep while our beds are burning?" came on the radio and I automatically thought of Hambone and Hunter and their European trip and how they heard that song everywhere they went. Honestly, it's all 80's and techno all the time, baby. So be it.
I messed up hard core yesterday. We traveled, as a group, by bus to Bath. So I didn't need my special Britrail pass to take the train or anything. But...I needed it for today and tomorrow, because obviously I had to get to Exeter and tomorrow I'm going to Stonehenge. I forgot it. I woke up the day we were supposed to leave for Bath at 7:13 A.M. clutching my cell phone like I was in rigor mortis, the alarm obviously silenced for good. We were supposed to be on the bus by 7:15. I made it there by 7:20, and forgot the Britrail pass. Remembered when we got to Bath, though, so it was (through much pomp and circumstance) courriered to me (personally) today. Someone actually got in a car, with my britrail pass, and drove it across the country. People actually do that shit. And it's gonna cost me 40 pounds! These courrier dudes make bank, traveling across the country like the fucking Pony Express, delivering shit, and getting paid in cash to do it. I want that job. I would love that job.
I could be a courrier, couldn't I?
We partied in Bath, which was kinda funny because the whole point of Bath during the 18th and 19th centuries was to see and be seen, promenade and find a husband and all that shit. And we embodied that in our clubbing experience. At least, we embodied the part about seeing, I'm not so sure we necessarily wanted to be seen. At least I didn't. I tried to blend in. But it's difficult when Kate and Eissa find the stripper pole...
We wound up at this bar/restaurant that was having a trivia night, and Kate and I completely owned everyone.
I'm dog fucking tired. I'll give you more later.
P. I. Staker
No comments:
Post a Comment