Better be excused.

So our internet has been giving us hell, simply by not working. Meanwhile, I have. Very much, at that. But I am the stronger one in this household, so I'll live. At least for now. Marty's been taking walks, I hear. Apparently she's going to post something on that. But the light-footed smartass is having dinner at the moment, and wants me to join:

Marty: Your food is rottening!
Mousse: I don't believe that.
Marty: In fact, all food is, at some stage.
Mousse: *sigh* True.

Lately, she's been more obsessed with food than usual. We're leaving this place in less than two weeks and Marty, who hates throwing food away, has been feeling the need to empty our well-filled stores. She's repeatedly been stuffing herself to the point of nausea. I don't mind. It's for a good cause. If only she wouldn't whine so much about it.

What else...


Yesterday, we decided to act a little more like not us. What we did was that we went to a café and ordered a bottle of wine. Normally, we sit at home, we sink a one-euro bottle or two and call it a pre-party. This time, the wine cost more, but in some way, we still felt very much like ourselves. Don't know if it was because of the same barbaric yet determined way of finishing a bottle in no time or because of the fact that when the bottle was empty, we somehow managed to overturn the table and thus made the two wine glasses and the ashtray fall and loudly smash against the stone floor. The incident was closely followed by other people's staring and our awkward "Check please!"

The night went on with my drunken vintage clothes shopping, Marty's drunken Nutella pancake shopping, more wine-drinking, and us deciding that generally, we don't like people very much.

Peace, folks.
..............................
PS. Finally watched Family Guy the movie, and it was a disappointment. Not true to the characters and milking their otherwise original and appreciated traits until boredom. Stranger Than Fiction, however, was a good one. Refreshing, even, with refined characters and great acting. Young Tom Cruise!

Be better.

You'd think someone with as little to do as me could find the time to blog more often. But no.

My father and sister was here. The followning conversation took place in the restaurant (obviously):

Dad: Did you also get lemon-pieces on your skewer?
Marty: Yes... Why?
Dad: I think I'm eating mine.
Marty: Dad! Spit it out!
Dad: Too late.

(I'm uninspired.)

Better be Wednesday May 16

Snapshot no. 456 (maybe I should've washed my hair)

This morning, after Marty's sister had left us to go back to mother Sweden, and we had finished an important rendez-vous at our beloved La Poste, we decided to go to the local Wednesday market and look for fruits and vegetables. We came home empty-handed...

Mousse (To Marty, in Swedish): Oh, apples! But they're not overly cheap.
Salesperson (pointing in another direction): There are the flowers!
Mousse (in Swedish): Why is this man showing me tacky plastic flowers?
Salesperson: There are the flowers!
Mousse (in French): I want fruit, not flowers.
Salesperson (still pointing): Flowers!
Mousse: Nevermind.


Snapshot no. 46 (it's official, my blond spray works)

Later today, having spent the day shopping cheap Belleville clothes, we went home for lunch...

Mousse: Gah! My soup is gone!
Marty: You can have some of mine.
Mousse: Your soup is contaminated. This water i contaminated. Tee-hee. What film?
Marty: What? I don't know.
Mousse: SIGNS!
Marty: Haven't seen that one.
Mousse: Oh. It's with that annoying little girl. You know... And her name is not Denzel Washington.
Marty: You mean Dakota Fanning?
Mousse: That's the one!
Marty: Well, you're excused. American states, both of them, who can keep track anyway.
Mousse: Denzel is a state?

Snapshot no. X (have we perchance been watching too much Family Guy?)

Dinnertime.

Marty: My sausages look like the Elephant man.
Mousse: ...
Marty: Too soon?


This has been a good day. And tonight, we have been promised to be on a certain guestlist at this nightclub. Apparently, a free Cosmopolitan is included.

Be gawd!

..........................
Sidenote: We later found out that Dakota Fanning was nowhere to be seen in M. Night Shyamalan's movie Signs, but starred in the somewhat better doomsday movie War of the Worlds directed by Spielberg. She will later this year appear in Winged Creatures together with Kate Beckinsale. Denzel Washington keeps away from the tedious topic of world crises, stays local, and works with Ridley Scott in American Gangster. Lastly, Tom Cruise. Enjoy!

Snapshot no. 375

Heated discussion, ended in...

Mousse: You know what your problem is? Huh? YOU HAVE NO PRIDE!
Marty: Yeah, THAT'S WHY I'M LIVING WITH YOU!
Mousse: ...
Marty: Touché.
Mousse: Yeah, actually.
Marty: Maybe not...
Mousse: Yes, Marty, it WAS touché.
Marty: I don't know...

And there really wasn't anything anyone could say to prove her wrong.

Dinner convo, about how pathetic we are, and how we wish we could at least reach nerd status...

Marty (Knowingly. In English): The only difference between us and nerds is that nerds is smarter.

Je t'emmerde, Sarkozy!

As everyone knows, the French president was elected Sunday. Mousse and I were feeling the acute disappointment (well... we had been hoping for the lesser of two evils) when we heard a cheery "woho" outside our window. I got curious. Turned out it was a couple of guys from across the street, who were not cheerful at all, but also bitterly disappointed. They tried to communicate.

Marty: "Je suis pas Francaise."

I was immediately demoted to imbécile. I tried to engage Mousse in the conversation, but she shook her magnificent head, put on "Hungry Eyes" and started cooking dinner.

Guys: "Tout le monde pleure." (everybody's crying.)

We closed the window.

The point is: we have spoken to French people about the outcome of the election. We're involved.

Also, prompted by me, Mousse bought a very large jar of Nutella. Life is sweet.

Gosh!

Yesterday we were cut off from conversing with our group because of logistic reasons as well as general social ineptitude.

Mousse: "It's because we want to communicate on our level, in quotes and high-fives. We should high-five more often."

Tomorrow the museums have free entrance. Maybe then.

Tu m'as trahi ce soir!

Said my boss to me when I refused to work overtime tonight. But I had a concert to attend. The Whitest Boy Alive played at La Flèche D'Or.

"Did you see that? He was almost too weak to open the bottle of water. I love this band!" Marty, while they're playing...

And they were good. They gave the impression of super nerds haphazardly put together to form an unsynchronized pop band. The drummer looks like a blond Napoleon Dynamite and the organist produces corny tunes and no one seems to know what the other ones are up to. Then you realize that it's actually music they're creating, and that it's pretty good. Had Erlend Öye (the singer) not refused to sign my cd at the end, I would probably have liked them more. Rejection does not sell.

Or... I did buy their cd, after all.

Damn!


Anyway, why didn't anyone inform us about Anna Nicole Smith's death?

Ode to Ape.

A week ago, when Marty marks that I have, more or less involuntarily, copied one of Ape's gestures...

Mousse: I miss Ape! She's my cuddly bear!
Tiny: Do you really miss her?
Mousse: She IS soft.

Today, upon reading her comment...

Tiny: I miss Ape!


We miss a lot of people. But today, our thoughts and words go to Ape. (And also to my mother, because it's her birthday.)