Idle post-weekend blogging
Despite me being the worst friend ever, my dear mate Matthew and his gorgeous partner Michelle* are coming back to my city for a visit, and staying with us for part thereof. So Matt and I are going out this Wednesday to our favourite Cheap Dive to drink too much wine and gossip. This makes me very happy. This will in due course make me very hung-over, because the dive in question boasts a wine selection apparently geared to the group of dead-eyed gamblers glued to the pinball machines in the corner, but for the sake of old times, I'll deal with that.
You know, now that I put it like that, I'm not entirely sure it's a good idea. Would it be cheating to have one drink at The Dive, toast to old times and then go somewhere where the wine is made from real grapes?
Or is that sort of soft-hearted liberal entitlement why the terrorists are winning?
In unrelated-but-for-being-a-good-thing news, we bought some new fish to replace the ones that died. We figured that they were killing each other because there were too many males and not enough females in the tank* so we tried to pick female fish. Obviously you can't just pick a fish up and flip it over to insert its nether regions, so this involved us standing by the fish tank in the shop and saying things like That One Looks Like It Has Hips and Not That One, It Looks Too Strong/Determined/Fast**. Obviously I have no problems with gendered behavioural stereotypes when they apply to amphibians.
They seem happy enough so far. Insomuch as they have not yet torn each other's fins off in a fit of rage. I'm not entirely sure how they even do this - having not caught them in the act I imagine some sort of coordinated attack involving specially sharpened gravel - but I swear they do. Behind those shiny fins and innocent flicks of the tail lie the hearts and minds of evil little killers.
And apart from an enjoyable afternoon strolling around galleries filled with antiques and artworks for sale and pretending I was rich enough to buy them, that was my weekend. And you wondered why I don't blog as often any more.
*First mentioned in the days before I started in with the cute nicknames. Possibly luckily for them.
**Disproving the old homily that fish have died and worms have eaten them, but not for caviar.
***In the speed sense, not in the sexual sense. A fast female fish, in the latter sense, is exactly what we want. The more baby fish the better, if you ask me.
You know, now that I put it like that, I'm not entirely sure it's a good idea. Would it be cheating to have one drink at The Dive, toast to old times and then go somewhere where the wine is made from real grapes?
Or is that sort of soft-hearted liberal entitlement why the terrorists are winning?
In unrelated-but-for-being-a-good-thing news, we bought some new fish to replace the ones that died. We figured that they were killing each other because there were too many males and not enough females in the tank* so we tried to pick female fish. Obviously you can't just pick a fish up and flip it over to insert its nether regions, so this involved us standing by the fish tank in the shop and saying things like That One Looks Like It Has Hips and Not That One, It Looks Too Strong/Determined/Fast**. Obviously I have no problems with gendered behavioural stereotypes when they apply to amphibians.
They seem happy enough so far. Insomuch as they have not yet torn each other's fins off in a fit of rage. I'm not entirely sure how they even do this - having not caught them in the act I imagine some sort of coordinated attack involving specially sharpened gravel - but I swear they do. Behind those shiny fins and innocent flicks of the tail lie the hearts and minds of evil little killers.
And apart from an enjoyable afternoon strolling around galleries filled with antiques and artworks for sale and pretending I was rich enough to buy them, that was my weekend. And you wondered why I don't blog as often any more.
*First mentioned in the days before I started in with the cute nicknames. Possibly luckily for them.
**Disproving the old homily that fish have died and worms have eaten them, but not for caviar.
***In the speed sense, not in the sexual sense. A fast female fish, in the latter sense, is exactly what we want. The more baby fish the better, if you ask me.
posted by tanya at 4:47 pm
3 Comments:
1. They do have nicknames, or rather, Matt does. You called him "English". :)
2. You screwed up your asterisk system there.
3. Fish are not amphibians, they're fish. Amphibians do pretty well out of the water; I suspect your fishy friends do not. :P
1. Yeah, but in the post I linked to, I called him Matt.
2. Yes. Yes, I did.
3. ...Who knew? That could explain the death rate. I figured they were just dancing.
I really WAS wondering why you don't blog as much. I was also wondering why I don't.
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