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Musique concrète
11 comments
A sublimely entertaining post, consisting mainly of your thoroughly enjoyable paranoia in regard to authority, large Glaswegians and your inability to fully understand the local dialect. You fail however, to realise the fact that you are rather interesting in a comical self-destructive kind of way.
I suppose it would be ill-timing of me to mention that the Co-op outside of the station pays a subsidiary company of mine for the use of its security staff? I will inform psycho Dave that the misappropriated bottles will be returned forthwith. Tell him, Jimmy sent you back in. That way he will at least leave you with a smaller scar my friend.
Yeah I would Chef but looking for someone called Jimmeh in Glasgow doesn’t really narrow the field down that much.
A glass in your direction for a grand comment. Really–I’ll be with Kitty in a sec–ooh, that came out as sex, hardly likely although often thought of–and I’ll point it northwards. My glass I mean.
i’ve been known to smuggle a flask into establishments that are stingy with the whisky… but i tip the servers well.
i find the banter between you and the Glaswegian to be as entertaining as it is unlikely.
We don’t tip here, we have what you call labour laws.
Nice vignettes.
Those motherfucking mobile phones during performances. It makes me much madder than it should. I sit in theaters and see faces in the audience lit up in a blue glow. The actors can see it, too. I’m beginning to regret mobiles were invented.
One of my childhood friends back in Cleveland is an owner/operator of a concrete mixing truck. It’s actually a pretty fascinating topic. Really!
Why all the irritation? Were they being insincere?
Have you got the back rent issue sorted out? I haven’t read of any magistrates banging on your door.
I just think “Why have you bought a ticket to see such-and-such? Do you say to your friends–’hey, the next night in the complete Ferneyhough chamber music is coming up. Fancy a night out texting?’”
Concrete’s an interesting topic! It should be, it’s the world’s most widely-used building material.
I went to see the first building in the UK made with pre-stressed concrete, which is in Glasgow. It’s listed, as is notable for its narrow interior walls, (something to do with load-bearing and how concrete diffuses stress differently to any other material), but amidst the painstaking, expensive, proud Victorian beauty of Glasgow, it looks like the plain girl at the party.
The night with my friends–it was just me. I just can’t cope with lack of sleep (which I’d brought upon myself through methods you can imagine) and nothing they’d have said would have done anything but irritate me.
The rent will be dealt with in the next post.
I’ve had my moments in regard to introducing one or two work colleagues to the joy of concrete. It’s surprising just how much of a deal maker/breaker it can be when introduced in a certain type of environment. Personally, I favour the hours between 3-4am, especially during the summer months, and always before the site foreman arrives for his work.
Aren’t you picky, Looby? You really got cranky because of that unfortunate misunderstanding?
Oh my! You need your beauty sleep!
Hm… don’t spoil your manly charm just for that, Looby. Would you get cross at me if you noticed that I can hardly tell SHIPS from SHEEPS, from CHEESE or CHIPS?
Well you aren’t alone in never knowing there was a British Concrete Council.
Anyway - what did the Roman’s ever do for us? eh?
I knew the proper Weegie round here would have had a more direct experience of concrete than one can get from a little video.
Re the narkyness–I’m not normally like that. I’d had a bit of this and that, and had missed out on my sleep. That’s the only reason.
Hipster—your language is very easy for us to understand.
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