Gonna dig up that new site from somewhere soontime. It'll be so menthol and moreish. It'll be Jenny Holzer meets Kool A.D. It'll take me another fifteen months and still be ahead of its bloat.
I can't thank-bomb you all enough, whoever you all are. While I've been away from here working on things I've also been working on other things. Here is one of the other things.
Showing posts with label cheesecake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cheesecake. Show all posts
I Can Explain
I got trapped in a well and Sarah's arms fell off and also there were some manufacturing/delivery undesirables so we've whacked the jackanory back to Christmas 2015 yes 2015, to ensure its readiness and frightening dominance, a lot like when Nasty Ways was on dubplate for eighteen months and when they finally let people buy it Dillinja became prime minister for a week which is why everything is fine now, and if you don't remember this it's because either you were too far away or you had the wrong ears. It's not too late.
Turns Out It's People
If everyone in this cafe right now formed a band, we'd be called Loudmouth Donny and The Cosmic Douchebags. It's unfair, but accurate. Like this pen would be named The Clicky Bulbous Struggler, at the South-West Pen Afficionados' annual pen-naming convention and hog roast, to which I've never been invited. There's a stupefying mismatch between its shape and its purpose, like someone's stuck a nib to a balloon and said well boss we've made it user-friendly for people who don't want to use it too much, the fuck else you want? And using it solely to make complaints about it was what qualified me to become a member of The Douchebags, Donny-less and non-cosmic until four minutes ago, when a young spam-cannon wrapped in a woollen rainbow walked in, enunciating into his phone and dragging our futures behind him, and instantly we realised our purpose. We haven't, strictly-speaking, practised, or met, yet, but we've definitely been brought together.
The Main Event
The Rockin' Sausages came to town. They didn't give us sufficient warning. They headlined the fete. It was on The Other Grass Triangle down the road, for one night only and cheesecake was available. New York cheesecake, from the English couple. With cherry vanilla sauce on top. And an unexpected sponge base.
Does a proper cheesecake always have a biscuit base?
What makes it a New York cheesecake?
Was the rectangular shape of the portion a subtle echo of Manhattan's grid layout?
I didn't ask but I want to know. It was two Euros and worth it and eaten while making the rounds of the eight stalls, set in a semi-circle around the performance area, in which a boy stood with a black cloth bag on his head while a hairy man in medieval dress repeatedly threw an apple at him. This was apparently a magic trick. The boy was supposed to catch it. Sixty people watched and waited. He didn't catch it. The hairy man dismissed him and started doing tricks with sticks instead.
Opposite the semi-circle of stalls was a stage with a banner at the back. "Les Rockin Saucisses!" I think it declared, quite boldly, and maybe there was a picture of a sausage in the middle and the writing went round it like in the Arm & Hammer logo. The stage was empty and the time was nearly ten so we assumed we'd missed them and went to the beach down the road to see if the clouds would leave the sun alone for once. No. In the darkness we went back up the road. The bit between our campsite and The Two Grass Triangles is streetlightless and lined with large trees, possibly oak, so it's dark at night, unless someone is camping on the triangles. They are actually designated camping / picnic spots, for people who like to remain very close to roads. This time it was not dark, there was a thumping and a hubbub and a weak yellow light. We went to our tents and re-filled our drinking bags and went up and there they were, the sausages, rockin, slightly disappointingly not dressed in giant sausage outfits, four of them, a singer / bass drum player, a double bassist, an acoustic guitarist and a percussionist, doing that one from Pulp Fiction, I think it's called Misirlou, Dick Dale and The Somethings, at top speed, and the guitarist had his guitar behind his head and the percussionist was doing the lead guitar part through a kazoo and it abruptly ended halfway through. A bit of applause leaked out from the crowd and we did our best to whoop. They probably won't be back.
Does a proper cheesecake always have a biscuit base?
What makes it a New York cheesecake?
Was the rectangular shape of the portion a subtle echo of Manhattan's grid layout?
I didn't ask but I want to know. It was two Euros and worth it and eaten while making the rounds of the eight stalls, set in a semi-circle around the performance area, in which a boy stood with a black cloth bag on his head while a hairy man in medieval dress repeatedly threw an apple at him. This was apparently a magic trick. The boy was supposed to catch it. Sixty people watched and waited. He didn't catch it. The hairy man dismissed him and started doing tricks with sticks instead.
Opposite the semi-circle of stalls was a stage with a banner at the back. "Les Rockin Saucisses!" I think it declared, quite boldly, and maybe there was a picture of a sausage in the middle and the writing went round it like in the Arm & Hammer logo. The stage was empty and the time was nearly ten so we assumed we'd missed them and went to the beach down the road to see if the clouds would leave the sun alone for once. No. In the darkness we went back up the road. The bit between our campsite and The Two Grass Triangles is streetlightless and lined with large trees, possibly oak, so it's dark at night, unless someone is camping on the triangles. They are actually designated camping / picnic spots, for people who like to remain very close to roads. This time it was not dark, there was a thumping and a hubbub and a weak yellow light. We went to our tents and re-filled our drinking bags and went up and there they were, the sausages, rockin, slightly disappointingly not dressed in giant sausage outfits, four of them, a singer / bass drum player, a double bassist, an acoustic guitarist and a percussionist, doing that one from Pulp Fiction, I think it's called Misirlou, Dick Dale and The Somethings, at top speed, and the guitarist had his guitar behind his head and the percussionist was doing the lead guitar part through a kazoo and it abruptly ended halfway through. A bit of applause leaked out from the crowd and we did our best to whoop. They probably won't be back.
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