Which he referred to as 'Teletubby Valley', a not-entirely-inaccurate description. He did lose a few points by asking the crowd to 'bring a black friend with you next time', which is a bit annoying, frankly, as I'm getting rather tired of people pointing out that Cornwall isn't that ethnically diverse, as if we didn't know. Like everyone's going to start looking around, saying 'well we did have some black people around, I put them down earlier, but no, they seem to have just wandered off, maybe they're forming a steel drum band, that's the sort of thing they do, isn't it?'.
In fact we do all have a black friend, but it's the same bloke, he's called Zion*, and he couldn't come tonight because he's home with Crohn's Disease ARE YOU HAPPY NOW RUFUS?
Also, it's quite hard being lectured on being too white by a man wearing lederhosen. Anyway, sorry. Other than that, the concert was great, as were Hot Chip who supported. Although they weren't that interesting to look at, frankly, so here's a picture of some big lighty-up
In other news, I went into the bathroom this morning to find a really quite extravagant slug trail all over my towel (photo not provided). The culprit was lurking up in the corner of the ceiling, giggling at me. Until I flushed him down the loo, the giggling sluggy bastard. You don't mess with a man's towels.
* Yes it's his real name.
25 comments:
you're lucky it was just lederhosen he was wearing - at glastonbury we were treated to stockings and high heels.
sod him and his ethnic diversity lectures, the eden project looks beautiful.
a great big fat yellow bastard of a slug slimed all over my favourite (admittedly quite tatty and due for a long delayed chuck-out) shoes the other day. i found him smirking on the recycling box, so i poured lo-salt on him and chucked him outside to think long and hard about what he'd done in his salty-melty death throes.
and then i felt really guilty. and watered him with a watering can to get the salt off. although it was only lo-salt. so it was probably only a minor scald, really. and he'd slimed off the next morning. i'm sure he was fine.
lovely photos!
Last summer, I lay down in my garden and watched a slug eat an entire leaf, close-up, over half an hour.
I was bored.
You should have asked if he had any spare...
Inexplicably, in a room I was renting many moons ago, I was plagued by slugs crawling all over the ceiling and leaving trails everywhere. I never worked out where the damn things were coming from.
Suffice to say, I didn't stay long...
Found two big ole slugs, fat and ORANGE in the cutlery drawer one weekend in Rock.
Lederhosen? This wasn't the naked weekend then?
I was at the Eden Project last month. And I drove through Falmouth. Inexplicably I failed to bump into you.
Well I did wave at you.
Oh, I thought that was one of those Cornish Nationalists, gesticulating.
I did meet a Cornish Rambler, in Waterstones in Truro, though.
So that must be pretty well the entire blogging community of Cornwall.
The slug invasion continues apace, eh? I found another one writhing around on the front room carpet yesterday: couldn't quite face the salt technique, so I flung him out of the window instead. I have a nasty guilty feeling that he landed on next door's cherished rosebush. Ah, well...
I don't think they eat rose bushes
So that must be pretty well the entire blogging community of Cornwall.
Ahem.
I was writing satirically.
I'm sure that Cornwall is no more backward in matters technological than, say, Norfolk.
Urrgh, slugs are so... wrong. We were inundated with the fuckers in our living room most autumns until we hit on the idea of covering the edge of the carpet near the front wall (where we thought they were getting in) with about a centimetre thick layer of salt. That was two years ago and they haven't been back. I fear that their corpses are piling up inside the wall though, and considering the state of repair of Violet Towers I sincerely hope to be Away when the weight of them caves the wall in.
I once tried to chase a slug out of the house by threatening him with salt, pouring a menacing little pile in front of him so he'd turn around and go back the way he came. He went sideways instead, up the mesh front of one of Mr Violet's speakers. I freaked and salted him ferociously, and then spent about an hour trying to scrape his icky squishy gooey icky body out of the mesh, eyes squeezed firmly closed, whimpering softly.
That is the End of my slug stories, you will be pleased to hear.
I suspect that Cornwall has more bloggers than black people.
And more slugs than both put together.
This is probably true - I just get annoyed with people who point out the lack of black people as if 1) we didn't know and 2) we were in some way responsible and 3) it's actually important in some way.
There's notably chinese and asian people down here since I were a lad (and they don't all run restaurants) but that's not good enough for some people.
I was writing satirically.
Ah - I did see some satire going over my head earlier, but I thought it was a plane.
You could just go to Lagos or Nairobi and say "Can't see many Cornish people here, you bunch of rednecks."
Incidentally, I can't see that many black people in Rufus's band.
Well exactly. And he's from fucking Canada as well, the big from-Canada-coming white poof.
(I still love you though Roof)
I've had this argument with someone else, and it turns out only Martha is from Canada - Rufus is from New York.
Dammit.
He's from New York?! But my favorite line from the entire McGarrigle Christmas Hour CD is something like "Mom's making dinner for twenty of Rufus' L.A. friends."
I feel so disillusioned now.
(Actually, I, too, assumed he was Canadian.)
Martha and Rufus both grew up in Montreal, but Rufus just lives in New York now... so don't worry. He really is just a smelly Maple Leafer after all.
Rufus, whose father celebrated his birth with the song "Rufus is a Tit Man" only to be proven very wrong when Rufus grew up.
The Eden Project Arms Trade Trustees:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75fBCO6Fsbw
+ click 'more'
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