Plated

Sometimes I think the universe is conspiring to make all my dreams come true.

For example, discovering that there was a metal/hardcore/other band in the Hawke’s Bay called Gunt, and episode one of the BBC’s language series “Balderdash and Piffle”, where they looked at Polari, the 1960s gay London slang, while Morrissey’s “Piccadilly Palare” played.

And I have found another instance. It’s this plate:

trellick-tower-plate

It depicts Trellick Tower, a block of council flats in London, designed by Erno Goldfinger in 1966. It is in the Brutalist style, which I ♥ very much, though many people don’t*. So I’m glad to see it’s been immortalised in china by the People Will Always Need Plates potters.

Sadly they don’t have a stockist in Aotearoa, but just knowing it exists makes me very happy.

* Ian Flemming hated it so much, he named one of the Bond villains after the architect.

Cheese is evil

I’d heard about cheese nightmares. A friend of mine claimed that if he had cheese before he went to bed he’d end up having really freaky nightmares, but I didn’t think too much about it.

Last night I was lying in bed trying to get to sleep. I was sort of in a half awake, half asleep state. I was thinking about various things, and sometimes my thoughts turned into dreams. I was thinking about walking along the side of a harbour. Suddenly Christopher Walken appeared in my dream and his face suddenly became hideously disfigured.

The cheese!

About two hours before I went to bed I’d had a fairly small about – only about 25 grams – of Kapiti gouda with cumin seeds. It was messing with my head!

I lay in bed wondering what to do. Every time I closed my eyes I kept experiencing weird sensations. I decided that the best antidote for this evil cheese was some berries. I trudged into the kitchen and finished off the blueberries, raspberries and boysenberries in the fridge then got back into bed.

The weird dreams stopped.

I have decided that cheese will no longer play an active part my diet.

Rock rock rock

Hey, you know how when people write about their dreams in their LiveJournal it’s really boring because essentially it’s just fiction? Yeah, shut up. I had two dreams last night featuring musicians, the boys from Nesian Mystik and Alex James, the bass player from Blur.

In the Nesian Mystik dream I was driving down the road I park my car on, looking for a parking space. I saw a big van filled with guys and parked near them and asked if they were going to be moving soon. I noticed it was Nesian Mystik in the van. They said they would be moving right then. I asked if I could have their parking space. They said it was actually going to be used by someone else. I thanked them and parked my car in the space right in front of them, then went back and told them how much I loved their album. For the record, I have not heard Nesian Mystik’s album.

The Alex James dream was… well, it was exactly the right kind of dream that should be dreamed about Alex James.

The WBC possibly have a new logo. I think it may actually be a prototype, open to refinements. The new logo has: roses, dice, flames, tattoo-style wavy lines, stars, a microphone and the band’s name. Are there enough elements in the logo, or is there room for more? I think a Coop-style devilwoman should be resting her arse on the top of the W.

<stuuu> omg the dice are on fire. thats new
<stuuu> the dice werenty on fire in teh prototypes

I went to the King’s Arse to see the Shrugs play. I got there just as they were playing the final notes in the last song of their set. Dammit. But I was able to pick up the special CD commemorating the evening that included a new track from the Shrugs. Oh, but then when I got it home and tried to play it I discovered that the CD was blank. I took it back and politely yelled at the munter on the door and made him give me a new one. I did stick around to see a bit of the next band, The Feds, but they were very boring so I left.

The rest of my day has been somewhat unrockin’.