Cider with ZooMusicGirl
Mar. 14th, 2004 10:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zotzWhy isn't there a band called Mexican Shitbath? This is, of course, a reference to Steve Bell's excellent "If . . ." cartoons, and the one on Friday in particular. I may scan it at some point. Why doesn't the man have a bloody website,then?
It was a good weekend. It was a very good weekend. I picked Fiona up from the airport sometime during 1925 and brought her back to the flat for a mixed veggie fry-up and grill, and then Complicity, from Alphabet Video round the corner, which has for all of the (nearly?) decade it's been there has been about the best video shop I've come across. For a single shop unit it has a staggering array of films out on display, and I was solemnly told that they have almost as much again hidden somewhere, so I should ask if there was anything I was looking for. They don't try the usual stunt of having fifty copies of whatever's just come out. Instead, they have much more world, art and genre cinema than they do of the more mainstream stuff. Well, this is Marchmont, after all. Presumably there's a more extreme version of this down in Stockbridge, but I've never lived there. Anyway, we both claimed to like the film (which I notice featured both of the actresses who starred in Tipping the Velvet a couple of years later), although it could have done with being a bit longer. I had been threatening to make popcorn, but it didn't end up happening.
Saturday started fairly late with mushroom pate on toast, with newspapers and tea. After we'd had as much useful as we could from that, we went for a walk, with the notional goal of finding the first two issues of a comic Fiona's after. The first didn't seem to be in evidence, although deadhead and FP both had the second. We dropped into Greyfriar's churchyard for a brief walk (William McGonagall's buried there, you know) and then bumped into Charlie (Clang!) and Ken (Clang!) just outside, on their way from the comic (or maybe rôle-playing) thing at Teviot. After a further walk down to Princes Street, into a couple of shops and then back up through Princes Street Gardens (I hadn't realised that the ugly fountain is actually cast-iron and was made for the Great Exhibition), up the Kings Stables Road steps, up Lothian Road to Tollcross and home.
A brief trip out to take the DVD back and pick up a couple of snacks (miniature pecan pie for me) from Haddows and then it was roughly time to think about the evening. The rôle-playing (or maybe comic) thing (as already mentioned, in Teviot) had two or three bands on afterwards, and after that a short bit of discoing by myself and the usual associates. I'm not sure who was behind the whole thing. I suspect that GEAS was involved if there was a rôle-playing angle, and the evening entertainment was billed as .Conception, which implies the Goth & Rock society (EdGAR to its friends). Usually EdGAR would have its own DJs, so it was a bit odd to find ourselves working for them, but not odd in any unpleasant sense as they're a good bunch. Anyway, a quick call to Seth and Lara told me the times, and after flirting with the idea of dropping our stuff off and going to Kushi's (fine Indian restaurant - first in Edinburgh, apparently. Established about 1947) across the road, we decided we were too hungry and set to making dinner. Mushroom Stroganof was perpetrated, and then I looked out a couple of boxes of records and we headed over. Everything seemed to be working, including the decks (Fliss, who I think was organising it, said she's never used a turntable, of any flavour. Oh well). They were the inevitable 1210 mk2s, so of course they worked perfectly. I shouldn't have worried. Most of the old lighting-rig is gone. All that's left these days are the roboscans, which really isn't enough. The old pinspots and parcans at least had the virtue of being more powerful than the lights behind the bar.
We didn't hang around for the bands, but went over to the Monkey (Tobias' birthday, apparently) and when we saw how crowded it was, the Auld Hoose, which had![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fuzzygoth and his brother in attendance. Looking at the jukebox, it struck me how appropriate the name Evanescence is for a band who have one hit and then evaporate. It also struck me, when looking at the bar, that more pubs should have Addlestones and Caley 80/- on tap.
We got back to the Park Room in time to catch the end of the last band (789 lemmings called Ermintrude, or something similar[1]). Actually, they didn't seem at all bad, if you like fast punky bands. Which I do.
It took us two or three records to persuade people that they did indeed fancy dancing, and it went pretty well. I wasn't at all convinced that we'd persuade anyone to come along or stay, but quite a few apparently had nothing better to do that lounge around in the Park Room until three, which is quite gratifying. We played the usual nonsense, including a couple of McGeoch tracks (Monitor and . . .Under the Floorboards). And so to bed.
Today started even later, which torpedoed the suggested noon breakfast at the Elephant and Bagel with Lara, Seth and possibly others (breakfast in town at noon? We'd only been awake for fifteen minutes). Actually, we did very little apart from breakfast (applewood-smoked cheddar on toast) and papers before it was time to take Fiona back to the airport. I've just been getting on with the papers and doing some washing-up since then.
The Spanish General Election seems to be going to the Socialists, according to the Beeb. Obviously, being filthy commie pinko lefty whalehugging scum, I'm in favour of this (as opposed to the alternative, at least). I don't really know anything about their party or its leadership, though, so it's an abstract pleased rather than any great joy. Putin seems to be getting back in too, though, which is a touch less pleasing. More deaths in Israel and the Occupied Territories, too. A nice weekend, but the world goes on regardless.
[1] Oh, alright. I think it's closer to "25 cats called Joe".
It was a good weekend. It was a very good weekend. I picked Fiona up from the airport sometime during 1925 and brought her back to the flat for a mixed veggie fry-up and grill, and then Complicity, from Alphabet Video round the corner, which has for all of the (nearly?) decade it's been there has been about the best video shop I've come across. For a single shop unit it has a staggering array of films out on display, and I was solemnly told that they have almost as much again hidden somewhere, so I should ask if there was anything I was looking for. They don't try the usual stunt of having fifty copies of whatever's just come out. Instead, they have much more world, art and genre cinema than they do of the more mainstream stuff. Well, this is Marchmont, after all. Presumably there's a more extreme version of this down in Stockbridge, but I've never lived there. Anyway, we both claimed to like the film (which I notice featured both of the actresses who starred in Tipping the Velvet a couple of years later), although it could have done with being a bit longer. I had been threatening to make popcorn, but it didn't end up happening.
Saturday started fairly late with mushroom pate on toast, with newspapers and tea. After we'd had as much useful as we could from that, we went for a walk, with the notional goal of finding the first two issues of a comic Fiona's after. The first didn't seem to be in evidence, although deadhead and FP both had the second. We dropped into Greyfriar's churchyard for a brief walk (William McGonagall's buried there, you know) and then bumped into Charlie (Clang!) and Ken (Clang!) just outside, on their way from the comic (or maybe rôle-playing) thing at Teviot. After a further walk down to Princes Street, into a couple of shops and then back up through Princes Street Gardens (I hadn't realised that the ugly fountain is actually cast-iron and was made for the Great Exhibition), up the Kings Stables Road steps, up Lothian Road to Tollcross and home.
A brief trip out to take the DVD back and pick up a couple of snacks (miniature pecan pie for me) from Haddows and then it was roughly time to think about the evening. The rôle-playing (or maybe comic) thing (as already mentioned, in Teviot) had two or three bands on afterwards, and after that a short bit of discoing by myself and the usual associates. I'm not sure who was behind the whole thing. I suspect that GEAS was involved if there was a rôle-playing angle, and the evening entertainment was billed as .Conception, which implies the Goth & Rock society (EdGAR to its friends). Usually EdGAR would have its own DJs, so it was a bit odd to find ourselves working for them, but not odd in any unpleasant sense as they're a good bunch. Anyway, a quick call to Seth and Lara told me the times, and after flirting with the idea of dropping our stuff off and going to Kushi's (fine Indian restaurant - first in Edinburgh, apparently. Established about 1947) across the road, we decided we were too hungry and set to making dinner. Mushroom Stroganof was perpetrated, and then I looked out a couple of boxes of records and we headed over. Everything seemed to be working, including the decks (Fliss, who I think was organising it, said she's never used a turntable, of any flavour. Oh well). They were the inevitable 1210 mk2s, so of course they worked perfectly. I shouldn't have worried. Most of the old lighting-rig is gone. All that's left these days are the roboscans, which really isn't enough. The old pinspots and parcans at least had the virtue of being more powerful than the lights behind the bar.
We didn't hang around for the bands, but went over to the Monkey (Tobias' birthday, apparently) and when we saw how crowded it was, the Auld Hoose, which had
fuzzygoth and his brother in attendance. Looking at the jukebox, it struck me how appropriate the name Evanescence is for a band who have one hit and then evaporate. It also struck me, when looking at the bar, that more pubs should have Addlestones and Caley 80/- on tap.We got back to the Park Room in time to catch the end of the last band (789 lemmings called Ermintrude, or something similar[1]). Actually, they didn't seem at all bad, if you like fast punky bands. Which I do.
It took us two or three records to persuade people that they did indeed fancy dancing, and it went pretty well. I wasn't at all convinced that we'd persuade anyone to come along or stay, but quite a few apparently had nothing better to do that lounge around in the Park Room until three, which is quite gratifying. We played the usual nonsense, including a couple of McGeoch tracks (Monitor and . . .Under the Floorboards). And so to bed.
Today started even later, which torpedoed the suggested noon breakfast at the Elephant and Bagel with Lara, Seth and possibly others (breakfast in town at noon? We'd only been awake for fifteen minutes). Actually, we did very little apart from breakfast (applewood-smoked cheddar on toast) and papers before it was time to take Fiona back to the airport. I've just been getting on with the papers and doing some washing-up since then.
The Spanish General Election seems to be going to the Socialists, according to the Beeb. Obviously, being filthy commie pinko lefty whalehugging scum, I'm in favour of this (as opposed to the alternative, at least). I don't really know anything about their party or its leadership, though, so it's an abstract pleased rather than any great joy. Putin seems to be getting back in too, though, which is a touch less pleasing. More deaths in Israel and the Occupied Territories, too. A nice weekend, but the world goes on regardless.
[1] Oh, alright. I think it's closer to "25 cats called Joe".
