There's an undying clang-pocalypse coming unyieldingly crescendo from the kitchen, thoroughly overpowering the abundant deathrattles of legions of videogame monsters and their various rare bosses. Apparently electric sound columns punctuating putative events of virtual importance are to be cast entirely into shadow by the belaboured manual noises of... Bang! Clash! Shppt-shhhptpt...FGHSZBBBPT!
"What's she doing in there?!"
"I don't know..."
"Causing general havoc."
"It sounds like a really angry badger trying to pretend like it's all calm and considerate, you know ?"
SMASH! BANG! BANGBANG! SHRRRRCHHH-bing!
"And improve things."
"Oh no... the shards are all flaaaat..."
GBLOOOOWING!! Psssshhhrrschhhhhhttt! Klog! Blong! BLIFDJUBUNGBUMB!"
"Maybe she really is a bear."i
"God help us!"
"Maybe she lost a grape."
"Yeah. The grape of wrath!"
"She is trampling forth the kitchen where the grape of wrath was lost."
True story ; I'm sure she'll be delighted to read all about it, whoever she is.ii
Anyways, pictures :
We also met billymg and his homemaker-in-trainingiv over coffee at some local sportsbar, a rather pleasant affair. Originally we were going to meet at this nice Italian place, but shockingly enough their maitre d' is irresponsible enough to actually take reservations which then omit calling when they decide to fucking close. We mayhap shall have words on the matter...v
I really don't know how much of the civilised Costa Rica will be left standing once the spurious idiots' hysteria blows over, to be honest. No top shelf restaurant can weather three weeks of 0 custom no matter what happens, and I can't eat all my meals out just to try and keep the country afloat. (Not to mention it's really really hard for any restaurant currently extant to meet the professional excellence of my very own harem.)
In fact, it's fully my expectation that once this thing blows over, the whole pretense to "wealthy" and "rich" and "first world", "developed economies" etcetera inherited by the current set of wasters through their slightly less deadbeat parents from their almost-human grandparents is permanently going away. Come Q3 there's going to be exactly no difference between Zimbabwe and America, Congo and Germany, etcetera. Which, I suppose, was "the plan" in the first place, rite ?
The other available title was "you've made your bed, I'm curious if you'll enjoy sleeping in it", but I decided to save it for a closer. Laters.———
- At one point I had 0 champagne flutes left. Took me a day to buy them, a year to enjoy them, then in a few weeks they were all flattened. [↩]
- I just can't remember the name, is all. [↩]
- Since decommissioning the whole irc always-on infrastructure I have so much gear I no longer need it's scary. In retrospect I suppose it's quite mindblowing what a man's capable of doing while smoking the whole "better world" pipe -- god knows entire slut villages could have lived whole lifetimes out of the dough I blew on pointless hardware. [↩]
- Endonym, I didn't come up with it.
It's also possible he's kidnapped her, I've not probed the matter too extensively. They seem happy enough together, what more. [↩]
- I fully expect the place's going out of business, actually. It offered excellent everything at very reasonable prices, which means that on the days I didn't take my friends there the place lingered ~empty.