This time I've added 6 songs. Some of them sound a little weird - perhaps because I have to record them before noon, which is not usually my own personal high time. More likely it's because I'm not the world's best singer... The player is on the right, above the archive. This is the updated playlist (new songs bold):
1. There and Back Again
2. I wonder if it Rains at Home
3. Hair
4. Hospital
5. Mouldy
6. Tales of a Fish 2009
7. Mommy
8. The Bathtub of Love
9. My Heart is a Strawberry
10. Peanutbuttersandwich (La Version Électrique de Bière)
11. Pauline
12. Kind of a Downer
(and of course the old 13. Bibabup & 14. Mach ma das Licht aus)
There are still more songs to come.
Feel free to comment or email (brato dot useba at gmail dot com).
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
3 More Songs Online
3 songs have been added. This is the updated playlist:
1. There and back again
2. I wonder if it rains at home
3. Hair
4. Hospital
5. Mouldy
6. Tales of a Fish 2009
(and of course the old 7. Bibabup & 8. Mach ma das Licht aus)
Feel free to comment or email.
1. There and back again
2. I wonder if it rains at home
3. Hair
4. Hospital
5. Mouldy
6. Tales of a Fish 2009
(and of course the old 7. Bibabup & 8. Mach ma das Licht aus)
Feel free to comment or email.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Three Tracks Released!
Available now through the player on the right:
1. There and back again
2. I wonder if it rains at home
3. Hair
(of course the old tunes are also still available: 4 and 5)
1. There and back again
2. I wonder if it rains at home
3. Hair
(of course the old tunes are also still available: 4 and 5)
Monday, July 27, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The List is in the Open!
NakNakOverThere is happy to present an exclusive first glimpse at what seems to be the complete tracklist of the upcoming Brato Useba album! The list was leaked into the open when a convoi carrying instrumental raw versions of the songs was attacked by middle eastern terrorists, supposedly they call themselves Bad-Ass-Jihad. This was doubtlessly an attempt to shake the very heart of every single lover of super-classical-mega-punk-indie-funk-emo-rock-music! Fortunately the attackers were completely wiped out by Brato Useba's automatic defense systems. The tracks are secure. The list however was taken and later found in the cold fingers of a dead terrorist. Here's what we could reconstruct:
al (3:02)
s (3:28)
mmy (3:37)
4. Mouldy (4:13)
05. Peanutbuttersandwich (3:04)
06. Rain (2:49)
07. Herbert (4:12)
08. There and Back Again (2:30)
09. Vertigo Calling (3:42)
10. Android (2:02)
11. Breakfastsong (2:3
12. Secret Agent Fro
13. The Bathtub of
14. Tales of a Fis
15. My Hear
16. Pau
NakNakOverThere almost wishes the terrorists had succeeded, or at least managed to get their hands on one of the tunes! Well, another day, another cell...
al (3:02)
s (3:28)
mmy (3:37)
4. Mouldy (4:13)
05. Peanutbuttersandwich (3:04)
06. Rain (2:49)
07. Herbert (4:12)
08. There and Back Again (2:30)
09. Vertigo Calling (3:42)
10. Android (2:02)
11. Breakfastsong (2:3
12. Secret Agent Fro
13. The Bathtub of
14. Tales of a Fis
15. My Hear
16. Pau
NakNakOverThere almost wishes the terrorists had succeeded, or at least managed to get their hands on one of the tunes! Well, another day, another cell...
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Having Fun With the Moving Company, Are We?
Imagine this: You hire a moving company over the phone. You have a somewhat unusual request: Several boxes need to be picked up, then stored for a certain time, approximately two or three weeks, and then shipped via major city X to a remote location that will be given later. They say: No problem. You think: Cool. You suggest once they have picked it up they ship it to X right away and store it there until you can tell them the final destination, just to make matters more easy. They say: We can do that. You ask for a quote, they tell you the amount will be around price Y.
So far so good. They show up, load your boxes into a delivery truck and drive away.
Two weeks later you call them, just to check in, and to tell them they'll get the destination shortly. They say: No problem. They also say that once they have the adress, it should take a week to ten days until delivery.
Another week later you tell them the final destination. You ask how long does it take, the answer is: A week to ten days. You verify the price: Around amount Y, as before. Anything else, they say, you shall phone their partner company in city X.
You wait.
You wait.
You wait.
Three weeks later you call the partner company in city X:"Hi, I just wanted to ask where our stuff is." And the guy seems all confused and you hear him filing through paperwork like crazy, and finally he tells you:"I believe your shipment hasn't gotten here yet. It must still be at the point of origin. You have to call them."
You can't believe it. Angrily you call them, but it's after hours, so you leave a message, and you also send an angry email.
The next day they call you back. "Yes, the shipment is still here... but it's scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow..."
Well, what can you do. You reluctantly agree to that.
Next monday you call them again, just to see how it's going. Turns out the shipment still hasn't left. What's with the ships-last-week-thing? What's with the delivery date? Every question you have is answered by the same sermon: It's scheduled for shipping tomorrow.
You feel like smashing your head at the wall at such behaviour. Finally you give in to that and you verify the price again. Still amount Y. At least that.
You wait three days and call them again. Oh, miracle, the stuff has shipped.
After the weekend (we're in week 5 from the date you gave the destination adress to them now) you call the partner company in city X. Guy again goes through files, and says another guy, who right now unfortunately is out for lunch, will call you back asap.
Guy doesn't call back.
You call back the next day.
Same guy from yesterday this time confirms they have the shipment in city X, but the other guy works on that, he's gonna call you back.
Guy doesn't call back.
You call back the next day. This time you ask to speak to someone higher up the foodchain, and they connect you to a woman. She's all apologizing and this and that and understanding and whatnot, and she promises to look into it and will get back to you.
You're sceptical.
She calls back about 20 minutes later and says the problem is that they were under the assumption the destination was a town just outside of city X, and thus not far away. You tell her that's their problem. She promises to work it all out and have word by tomorrow. You say okay.
She doesn't call back the next day.
You call back. She says she was busy. Aha. Then she gives you a delivery date roughly 11 days away. She cannot guarantee it, though. You lose it a bit and pour all your non-satisfaction
as a costumer over her. She again is all understanding and whatnot. You say 11 days from now is ridiculous and they have to do better. She promises to look into that and to call back.
Another weekend passes. Week 6.
Monday evening, after she hasn't called, you call her. She's all like the date I've given you is the best we can do. You say:"You must be kidding, we want a serious discount." She says, for that we have to talk to the main company people back in the city of origin.
On wednesday you talk again to the woman, and because you're finally tired of this whole bullshit, and because by now there are only like 5 or so days to go, you tell them to just deliver it on the date they've given.
On thursday you get a call from a guy from the main shipping company back in origin-city. First you think something like now they're going to apologize a bit for all the delay, and for not informing their costumers on a regular basis and so on. But then you realize the guy has nothing of this sort in mind. Instead he tells you, that he has to double the price Y, because the original agreement was only for delivery to city X and no further.
You: "Excuse me?"
He seriously repeats what he just said. You say there's no way you can accept that. He actually asks: "Do you want me to leave the stuff in city X?"
You are not a person who gets angry easily. You are not a person who rants a lot. You don't get loud, you don't usually lose it.
This time you do.
Guy, however seems totally unimpressed by it. You feel helpless, but then you remind yourself that the price doesn't really matter to you personally, since you'll be third-party-reimbursed completely anyway. Still, the ignorance of your moving company drives you crazy. You keep ranting. Finally, the guy offers some kind of compromise, price won't be 2 times Y, but Y and a half. Weirdly exhausted you want him to guarantee delivery for sunday. He talks his way out of it. You don't say fuck you, but yes to Y and a half and hang up.
Since then you're hoping they'll deliver on sunday.
To be continued.
So far so good. They show up, load your boxes into a delivery truck and drive away.
Two weeks later you call them, just to check in, and to tell them they'll get the destination shortly. They say: No problem. They also say that once they have the adress, it should take a week to ten days until delivery.
Another week later you tell them the final destination. You ask how long does it take, the answer is: A week to ten days. You verify the price: Around amount Y, as before. Anything else, they say, you shall phone their partner company in city X.
You wait.
You wait.
You wait.
Three weeks later you call the partner company in city X:"Hi, I just wanted to ask where our stuff is." And the guy seems all confused and you hear him filing through paperwork like crazy, and finally he tells you:"I believe your shipment hasn't gotten here yet. It must still be at the point of origin. You have to call them."
You can't believe it. Angrily you call them, but it's after hours, so you leave a message, and you also send an angry email.
The next day they call you back. "Yes, the shipment is still here... but it's scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow..."
Well, what can you do. You reluctantly agree to that.
Next monday you call them again, just to see how it's going. Turns out the shipment still hasn't left. What's with the ships-last-week-thing? What's with the delivery date? Every question you have is answered by the same sermon: It's scheduled for shipping tomorrow.
You feel like smashing your head at the wall at such behaviour. Finally you give in to that and you verify the price again. Still amount Y. At least that.
You wait three days and call them again. Oh, miracle, the stuff has shipped.
After the weekend (we're in week 5 from the date you gave the destination adress to them now) you call the partner company in city X. Guy again goes through files, and says another guy, who right now unfortunately is out for lunch, will call you back asap.
Guy doesn't call back.
You call back the next day.
Same guy from yesterday this time confirms they have the shipment in city X, but the other guy works on that, he's gonna call you back.
Guy doesn't call back.
You call back the next day. This time you ask to speak to someone higher up the foodchain, and they connect you to a woman. She's all apologizing and this and that and understanding and whatnot, and she promises to look into it and will get back to you.
You're sceptical.
She calls back about 20 minutes later and says the problem is that they were under the assumption the destination was a town just outside of city X, and thus not far away. You tell her that's their problem. She promises to work it all out and have word by tomorrow. You say okay.
She doesn't call back the next day.
You call back. She says she was busy. Aha. Then she gives you a delivery date roughly 11 days away. She cannot guarantee it, though. You lose it a bit and pour all your non-satisfaction
as a costumer over her. She again is all understanding and whatnot. You say 11 days from now is ridiculous and they have to do better. She promises to look into that and to call back.
Another weekend passes. Week 6.
Monday evening, after she hasn't called, you call her. She's all like the date I've given you is the best we can do. You say:"You must be kidding, we want a serious discount." She says, for that we have to talk to the main company people back in the city of origin.
On wednesday you talk again to the woman, and because you're finally tired of this whole bullshit, and because by now there are only like 5 or so days to go, you tell them to just deliver it on the date they've given.
On thursday you get a call from a guy from the main shipping company back in origin-city. First you think something like now they're going to apologize a bit for all the delay, and for not informing their costumers on a regular basis and so on. But then you realize the guy has nothing of this sort in mind. Instead he tells you, that he has to double the price Y, because the original agreement was only for delivery to city X and no further.
You: "Excuse me?"
He seriously repeats what he just said. You say there's no way you can accept that. He actually asks: "Do you want me to leave the stuff in city X?"
You are not a person who gets angry easily. You are not a person who rants a lot. You don't get loud, you don't usually lose it.
This time you do.
Guy, however seems totally unimpressed by it. You feel helpless, but then you remind yourself that the price doesn't really matter to you personally, since you'll be third-party-reimbursed completely anyway. Still, the ignorance of your moving company drives you crazy. You keep ranting. Finally, the guy offers some kind of compromise, price won't be 2 times Y, but Y and a half. Weirdly exhausted you want him to guarantee delivery for sunday. He talks his way out of it. You don't say fuck you, but yes to Y and a half and hang up.
Since then you're hoping they'll deliver on sunday.
To be continued.
Rain Rain Rain
Today it rained the whole day. Again. My wife likes rain, I don't. It gives me the feeling I can't go out. Although, a few nights ago, just before we lost our internet connection for 2 days, there was a rainstorm at night. That was actually kind of cool.
It was raining like a motherfucker that night, buckets of cats and dogs. Curtains of rain. Complete with thunder and lightning. I could hear it drumming on the windows and gurgling and dripping and whatnot. I even almost found myself tempted to go outside and jump around in it, but luckily only almost. I've seen a commercial once, for creme that supposedly felt like a warm summer rain on your skin. Fuck that. From whatever side you look at it, it's always cold water falling from the sky. Not warm. Maybe the creme felt like the idea of warm summer rain. Though it didn't. I tried it.
By the way, I made chickpea-burgers the other day. Very tasty, to my wife, that is, I find them... uhm...tolerable. So I made real burgers today, and, who would expect otherwise, they were awesome. No pictures though, I forgot to take one of the chickpea-meal, and a burger-picture has been posted earlier already.
It was raining like a motherfucker that night, buckets of cats and dogs. Curtains of rain. Complete with thunder and lightning. I could hear it drumming on the windows and gurgling and dripping and whatnot. I even almost found myself tempted to go outside and jump around in it, but luckily only almost. I've seen a commercial once, for creme that supposedly felt like a warm summer rain on your skin. Fuck that. From whatever side you look at it, it's always cold water falling from the sky. Not warm. Maybe the creme felt like the idea of warm summer rain. Though it didn't. I tried it.
By the way, I made chickpea-burgers the other day. Very tasty, to my wife, that is, I find them... uhm...tolerable. So I made real burgers today, and, who would expect otherwise, they were awesome. No pictures though, I forgot to take one of the chickpea-meal, and a burger-picture has been posted earlier already.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Jesus Fucking Fish
I went fishing today, which was nice: Everything was calm and quiet, except for the splish-splash of water, some insects buzzing or an occasional car in the background. Until the three big-ass vans pulled up, and out poured a fuckload of VBS children, instantly running around everywhere, looking for bugs and worms and going all oh and ah on finding rotten sticks and mouldy roots as if they had never seen a lake before.
VBS? What the fuck is VBS? A little boy told me that VBS stands for Vacation Bible School. Now isn't that great. Vacation Bible School? Isn't that a threesome-paradox in itself already? And then this guy walks up to us, with his little nametag on, saying B.J., which probably stands for BlowJob (and no child's behind left), and grinning stupidly and probably trying to be funny, BlowJob says something like: "Nothing like a bunch of children throwing rocks in the water to enjoy the serenity of fishing."
Yes, BlowJob. You named it. Nailed it. Exactly that. Fuck off, Vacation Bible School from Montana! Go play somewhere else! Then I overheard another teacher talking to a local kid. He had put one of those cheesy Christian smiles on his face: "I heard you've attended Vacation Bible School today for the first time, and you hung out. That's great!"
How fucked up is this? They take a fuckload of already poisoned children from Montana, put them in some vans, drive them to a place a thousand miles away, so they can use them to poison the kids here, too. And the local kids will then connect the experience of joy and playtime with fucking Jesus, and then they will grow up to sing gruesome versions of Haleluja on the local radio, as their parents already do, and without noticing they will have given themselves to an institution that symbolizes genocide, killing, immorality and whatnot in the name of the fucking Lord, who was completely made up by some crazy people in a desert thousands of years ago. I don't get it. (I didn't get any fish, either. But I definitely wasn't there to catch fucking ichthys!)
That's Religion at work, always going for those who can't defend themselves.
At least when they start hemorrhaging out of their eyes they'll probably regard it as some kind of fucked up miracle revelation, so they won't call in for emergency medical help and my wife can finally sleep a night through.
VBS? What the fuck is VBS? A little boy told me that VBS stands for Vacation Bible School. Now isn't that great. Vacation Bible School? Isn't that a threesome-paradox in itself already? And then this guy walks up to us, with his little nametag on, saying B.J., which probably stands for BlowJob (and no child's behind left), and grinning stupidly and probably trying to be funny, BlowJob says something like: "Nothing like a bunch of children throwing rocks in the water to enjoy the serenity of fishing."
Yes, BlowJob. You named it. Nailed it. Exactly that. Fuck off, Vacation Bible School from Montana! Go play somewhere else! Then I overheard another teacher talking to a local kid. He had put one of those cheesy Christian smiles on his face: "I heard you've attended Vacation Bible School today for the first time, and you hung out. That's great!"
How fucked up is this? They take a fuckload of already poisoned children from Montana, put them in some vans, drive them to a place a thousand miles away, so they can use them to poison the kids here, too. And the local kids will then connect the experience of joy and playtime with fucking Jesus, and then they will grow up to sing gruesome versions of Haleluja on the local radio, as their parents already do, and without noticing they will have given themselves to an institution that symbolizes genocide, killing, immorality and whatnot in the name of the fucking Lord, who was completely made up by some crazy people in a desert thousands of years ago. I don't get it. (I didn't get any fish, either. But I definitely wasn't there to catch fucking ichthys!)
That's Religion at work, always going for those who can't defend themselves.
At least when they start hemorrhaging out of their eyes they'll probably regard it as some kind of fucked up miracle revelation, so they won't call in for emergency medical help and my wife can finally sleep a night through.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Rise of a Family
Once upon a time in a galaxy not too far away there was a man, who had left his home country to seek his fortune abroad, and he happened to meet a woman, who also was traveling, because no soil had ever welcomed her roots.
And in the red glow of sunset, waves kissing the shore, when they both were breathing heavily, side by side on the beach, he said:"My name's Smorgasbord Farrago. Do you want to marry me?" And she smiled and said: "I am Melange, and yes, I do."
So they got married, and they lived on love alone, but that didn't buy them hifi-stereo systems, so they decided to start a catering service. And they named it "Mrs. Melange's", registered in the name of Smorgasbord Farrago, and it offered the best food in the business.
And before long they had four little girls, and their names were Selma, after the Simpsons character, Gundi, after Melange's grandmother, Galli, to honour Smorgasbord's ancestors, and Maufry, because they both liked that name. And the four girls grew to be four beautiful young women, and they worked as waitresses in their parent's business, and it flourished and all was well, because "Mrs. Melange's" had become the best catering service on the continent.
At the same time it came to pass that a quite different man rose to quite different fame and genius, and when he became the master he is today, he felt like eating good food, and so "Mrs. Melange's" was hired by him himself, genius among the gifted, gentleman among apes, big hard fuckin' metal rod among pencils, Brato Useba, and he's never been more healthy or better nourished since.
(Mrs. Melange's Catering: Call 1-800-FORMIDABLE)
And because caterers have sharp eyes and eager ears, NakNakOverThere has secretly contacted a member of the Farrago family, who provided the following insider information about Useba's latest projects.
M****y: I've seen at least 11 big files, it said "Breakfast" on one of them, so I opened it, you know, maybe I could see what Mr. Useba really finds delicious, so we could serve him better, but it was all sheet music and stuff... and then there was one called "Maggots", and I wondered if Mr. Useba was suddenly into Asian and African food, so I opened that file, too, but it was only evil words like poison and law suit. And there was a file with just "v.c." on it, but then I heard something from the hallway, and there was this...pain...in my neck and... I don't remember what happened after that. Where am I? How I did I get here? Who are you?
That's all poor M****y could tell NakNakOverThere before she suffered a nervous breakdown. She is currently under medical observation, and doctors keep telling everyone that they expect her to make a full recovery.
Her information, however, is valuable: There are at least 11 new songs, and one of them is called "v.c." How mysterious. Makes one wonder what it stands for.
Give us a revelation, oh Brato Useba! We kneel before you in the dust!
And in the red glow of sunset, waves kissing the shore, when they both were breathing heavily, side by side on the beach, he said:"My name's Smorgasbord Farrago. Do you want to marry me?" And she smiled and said: "I am Melange, and yes, I do."
So they got married, and they lived on love alone, but that didn't buy them hifi-stereo systems, so they decided to start a catering service. And they named it "Mrs. Melange's", registered in the name of Smorgasbord Farrago, and it offered the best food in the business.
And before long they had four little girls, and their names were Selma, after the Simpsons character, Gundi, after Melange's grandmother, Galli, to honour Smorgasbord's ancestors, and Maufry, because they both liked that name. And the four girls grew to be four beautiful young women, and they worked as waitresses in their parent's business, and it flourished and all was well, because "Mrs. Melange's" had become the best catering service on the continent.
At the same time it came to pass that a quite different man rose to quite different fame and genius, and when he became the master he is today, he felt like eating good food, and so "Mrs. Melange's" was hired by him himself, genius among the gifted, gentleman among apes, big hard fuckin' metal rod among pencils, Brato Useba, and he's never been more healthy or better nourished since.
(Mrs. Melange's Catering: Call 1-800-FORMIDABLE)
And because caterers have sharp eyes and eager ears, NakNakOverThere has secretly contacted a member of the Farrago family, who provided the following insider information about Useba's latest projects.
M****y: I've seen at least 11 big files, it said "Breakfast" on one of them, so I opened it, you know, maybe I could see what Mr. Useba really finds delicious, so we could serve him better, but it was all sheet music and stuff... and then there was one called "Maggots", and I wondered if Mr. Useba was suddenly into Asian and African food, so I opened that file, too, but it was only evil words like poison and law suit. And there was a file with just "v.c." on it, but then I heard something from the hallway, and there was this...pain...in my neck and... I don't remember what happened after that. Where am I? How I did I get here? Who are you?
That's all poor M****y could tell NakNakOverThere before she suffered a nervous breakdown. She is currently under medical observation, and doctors keep telling everyone that they expect her to make a full recovery.
Her information, however, is valuable: There are at least 11 new songs, and one of them is called "v.c." How mysterious. Makes one wonder what it stands for.
Give us a revelation, oh Brato Useba! We kneel before you in the dust!
Meet Mr. Lunch
Ladies and Gentlemen,
meet Lunch. Mr. Lunch, that is. I caught him yesterday and he looked like this:
Then I carried him home in a plastic bag, every now and then he was twitching, so I said: "It's okay, fish, I know, I know. It's okay." When I finally put him on the counter in my kitchen, he was still alive, his gills were still trying to get him some oxygen. I hadn't expected that, it made me a little hesitant. But what could I do: I took a knife, and remembering the instructions another fisherman had given me, I grabbed hold of Mr. Lunch (which proved to be more difficult than one would think, those fish are very slippery) and cut him close to his front fins in order to remove the head. Well, that didn't do the trick, so in the end I rammed the knife behind his gills and sawed away at whatever was there until the head came off. A whole bunch of guts flowed out of the fish. I cut open his belly and removed his rectum and the one long thingy that connected his asshole with the rest of the guts. After that I started working on getting the meat out. When I was finished with him, Mr. Lunch looked like this:
I managed to get 3 of his 4 fillet stripes out intact, and kind of messed up with the 4th one. It was my first time filleting a fish after all. I put the meat into the freezer overnight, and today I cooked it. Here's Mr. Lunch on a plate:
What an experience. I felt kind of bad for killing a living creature, and I had a hard time falling asleep last night, because I kept seeing Mr. Lunch's severed head swimming in his guts, and his one glazed eye staring at me accusingly. But such things pass. I think I'll go fishing tonight again.
meet Lunch. Mr. Lunch, that is. I caught him yesterday and he looked like this:
Then I carried him home in a plastic bag, every now and then he was twitching, so I said: "It's okay, fish, I know, I know. It's okay." When I finally put him on the counter in my kitchen, he was still alive, his gills were still trying to get him some oxygen. I hadn't expected that, it made me a little hesitant. But what could I do: I took a knife, and remembering the instructions another fisherman had given me, I grabbed hold of Mr. Lunch (which proved to be more difficult than one would think, those fish are very slippery) and cut him close to his front fins in order to remove the head. Well, that didn't do the trick, so in the end I rammed the knife behind his gills and sawed away at whatever was there until the head came off. A whole bunch of guts flowed out of the fish. I cut open his belly and removed his rectum and the one long thingy that connected his asshole with the rest of the guts. After that I started working on getting the meat out. When I was finished with him, Mr. Lunch looked like this:
I managed to get 3 of his 4 fillet stripes out intact, and kind of messed up with the 4th one. It was my first time filleting a fish after all. I put the meat into the freezer overnight, and today I cooked it. Here's Mr. Lunch on a plate:
What an experience. I felt kind of bad for killing a living creature, and I had a hard time falling asleep last night, because I kept seeing Mr. Lunch's severed head swimming in his guts, and his one glazed eye staring at me accusingly. But such things pass. I think I'll go fishing tonight again.
Declaration
Due to the increased number of people being confused about the identity of Brato Useba, NakNakOverThere hereby declares:
I, Brato, the person who has posted this post, am not the musical mastermind and genius of the same first name Brato Useba. I merely adopted his first name out of awe and as a sign of honour and respect to him. I also run this website in order to bring the latest news about Brato Useba to you, the fans. Be assured that Brato Useba loves you.
Read it from my lips: Brato =! Brato Useba.
Now please refrain from contacting me for autographs and please stop proposing to me. I am just one medium (of many) chosen by the master to communicate with you.
Thank you.
I, Brato, the person who has posted this post, am not the musical mastermind and genius of the same first name Brato Useba. I merely adopted his first name out of awe and as a sign of honour and respect to him. I also run this website in order to bring the latest news about Brato Useba to you, the fans. Be assured that Brato Useba loves you.
Read it from my lips: Brato =! Brato Useba.
Now please refrain from contacting me for autographs and please stop proposing to me. I am just one medium (of many) chosen by the master to communicate with you.
Thank you.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Fishing Results
Results from two times fishing with my new very own fishing gear.Fish caught: 4 (1 yesterday, 3 today. 3 pickerels, I threw them back in. And Jack Fish, I threw him back in, too.)
People met: 2Things lost: 3 pickerel rigs, 3 weights (2 got stuck on the bottom, 1 got taken by a fish due to bad attachment to line. The unknown fish escaped with it. One day I will catch him, and he will be the fish with all these lost hooks and pickerel rigs in him. I hereby declare him my arch enemy. My own personal Moby Dick.) The first picture shows fishing scenery. The other one shows me and Jack Fish.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Confirmed: Uskanov plays Useba
Russian pianist Boris Borisovitch Uskanov, widely considered to be the best piano player in the world (ever since his legendary 1979 concert in Moscow, when he played the Rach 3, Chopin's Etude Op. 10 No. 2 and Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 1 simultaneously on three grand pianos while at the same time smoking large numbers of Sobranie Black Russian Cigarettes), is indeed working with Brato Useba. NakNakOverThere has met the master for a quick word on his way to the airport.
Uskanov: Yes, yes I am vorking vis Mr. Useba. It is for my advanced technique. He vrites music vhich he himself cannot even play, zat is vhy I came to zis vonderful country. But now I have to go back to Mother Russia and play for my president.
Uskanov: Yes, yes I am vorking vis Mr. Useba. It is for my advanced technique. He vrites music vhich he himself cannot even play, zat is vhy I came to zis vonderful country. But now I have to go back to Mother Russia and play for my president.
Announcement: More New Tunes
The preliminary list of songs to be released has been updated. Unfortunately not all of the collaborating bands were revealed. Here's what's new:
Mouldy, which according to fresh information is not as mentioned incorrectly earlier beeing recorded with The Hurricanes Of Rock. The legendary rock band is working on a song called Hospital. It is rumored that V. van Horstssohn is involved with Mouldy instead.
Additional rumors have it famous Russian pianist Boris Borisovitch Uskanov is working with Brato Useba on a song called Herbert. NakNakOverThere has no further information on that, but we do know that there's going to be another track called Mommy.
So far that makes a total of 7 songs altogether (that we know of). We can hardly wait.
Mouldy, which according to fresh information is not as mentioned incorrectly earlier beeing recorded with The Hurricanes Of Rock. The legendary rock band is working on a song called Hospital. It is rumored that V. van Horstssohn is involved with Mouldy instead.
Additional rumors have it famous Russian pianist Boris Borisovitch Uskanov is working with Brato Useba on a song called Herbert. NakNakOverThere has no further information on that, but we do know that there's going to be another track called Mommy.
So far that makes a total of 7 songs altogether (that we know of). We can hardly wait.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Insects, Burgers and Religion
On rainy days the high speed internet, which is more like moderate speed here, becomes low speed or breaks down completely. As it did yesterday. That's why I'm asking the following question today: What kind of insect is this?It can be found sitting motionless on doorframes or windowpanes. When I went outside at 1 AM sunday night, I found a a great number of them piled up outside, ankle-deep against the front door. Very weird.
(Also present were those little greenish-looking see-through flies, which back in the day I used to kill with deodorant spray. On this continent however they seem to be bigger.)
About food: On tuesday I made burgers. They received a rating unheard of so far: Five levels of awesomeness! Wow. That's something. We ate them with whole wheat buns, potato wedges and the usual condiments: ketchup, mustard, mayo, pickles, mozarella cheese.
Another thing: We were given the book God is not Great by Christopher Hitchens. It's nice to read something that backs one's own opinion with prudently researched evidence. On the other hand becoming aware of what religion really means and does (as opposed to just somehow knowing or suspecting it) also makes one quite angry. I am now even more convinced that the human race will achieve enlightenment only after fully completely overcoming all religion.*
*I've decided not to include my own rant about the blatant stupidity of religion. To those who are interested I'd like to suggest Christopher Hitchen's book instead.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Vadder van Horstssohn to collaborate with Brato Useba?
According to a source in Brato Useba's inner circle, controversial reverend Vadder van Horstssohn has been seen at Useba's studio. Wether van Horstssohn is working with Brato Useba on one of his upcoming tracks or providing spiritual guidance to the master as of yet remains unknown.
Amsterdam-born but now Swedish citizen van Horstssohn, once celebrated member of the Roman-Catholic Church, later banned from it, has come to international attention for his anti-dogmatic interpretation of the bible. His 1983 presentation at the Vatican claimed the Book beeing full of plot-holes, and van Horstssohn suggested to use parts of other religious writings of non Christian groups to fill in the blanks. While believers of basically every single religion on this planet merely cocked their eyebrows a little over this, they reacted with pure outrage when van Horstssohn presented a chain of circumstancial evidence suggesting all gods were in fact a bunch of gay black nazi-jews, plotting to destroy earth, and the associated prophets were just the corresponding equivalences of fluff-girls, plotting to have a good time. "With that assumption", van Horstssohn said, "we can give the old rock-the-church-is-built-upon-thingy a whole new meaning."
Worldwide outbursts of religious leaders demanded, inter alia, to:
-cut out van Horstssohn's tongue
-burn him on a stake
-remove his testicles and/or penis
-have his brain fried
-perform multiple exorcisms on him etc.
Reverend van Horstssohn, of whom his believed that his friends call him Horst, however is still alive and well, though him being spotted at Useba's marks the first time* in 22 years that he has left his 243.000 acre ranch in Carnivore, Utah. Rumors have it Brato Useba may once again be assisting a fallen star to renewed fame. If anyone official had been available to comment on this, NakNakOverThere can't but think the comment would most likely have been: This is it.
*NakNakOverThere has access to information that suggests van Horstssohn might have visited Germany in 2002. The validity of said information could not be confirmed yet.
Amsterdam-born but now Swedish citizen van Horstssohn, once celebrated member of the Roman-Catholic Church, later banned from it, has come to international attention for his anti-dogmatic interpretation of the bible. His 1983 presentation at the Vatican claimed the Book beeing full of plot-holes, and van Horstssohn suggested to use parts of other religious writings of non Christian groups to fill in the blanks. While believers of basically every single religion on this planet merely cocked their eyebrows a little over this, they reacted with pure outrage when van Horstssohn presented a chain of circumstancial evidence suggesting all gods were in fact a bunch of gay black nazi-jews, plotting to destroy earth, and the associated prophets were just the corresponding equivalences of fluff-girls, plotting to have a good time. "With that assumption", van Horstssohn said, "we can give the old rock-the-church-is-built-upon-thingy a whole new meaning."
Worldwide outbursts of religious leaders demanded, inter alia, to:
-cut out van Horstssohn's tongue
-burn him on a stake
-remove his testicles and/or penis
-have his brain fried
-perform multiple exorcisms on him etc.
Reverend van Horstssohn, of whom his believed that his friends call him Horst, however is still alive and well, though him being spotted at Useba's marks the first time* in 22 years that he has left his 243.000 acre ranch in Carnivore, Utah. Rumors have it Brato Useba may once again be assisting a fallen star to renewed fame. If anyone official had been available to comment on this, NakNakOverThere can't but think the comment would most likely have been: This is it.
*NakNakOverThere has access to information that suggests van Horstssohn might have visited Germany in 2002. The validity of said information could not be confirmed yet.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Bear Watching
Elsewhere people go whale watching, but not here. Here people go bear watching.
Bear watching is easy:
You don't need any skill.
You don't have to travel far.You don't have to go into the woods or something.
You don't need a guide, you can do it by yourself, it's completely safe! Really!
All you need is a car.
Then you drive to the local dump. Et voilá, bears.
The dump is also the place where the human being and the bear coexist peacefully. Papa bear, mama bear and children bears dig through the garbage happily some thirty meters away from men and women and little children, who on their part, seemingly oblivious to the animals, are looking for stuff.
We were there for like 15 minutes. In that time we saw a about dozen bears and half a dozen people. I didn't take any pictures of people, though. Only bear pictures. Go figure.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Fishing Rod / A Cooking Misfortune
Yesterday we made a trip to the cultural, economical and whatever else centre of the general area we live in. This centre is a town, a 3 hour drive through the vast nothingness away, and according to Wikipedia it has an estimated 12.000 inhabitants.
Well, what can I say. Fruit's less expensive, the variety of yoghurts available for purchase is bigger, and I got myself a fishing rod.
Curse me, I bought it at evil Walmart.
I also got line, a bunch of weights, a number of hooks and one little box to put all the stuff into. Paid 48 bucks for it. Seems like now I have to go fishing. My wife said she's expecting me to bring fresh fish home at least thrice a week.
Today evil fate had me fall victim to a serious cooking misfortune. I made pork with mashed potatoes, spinach and carrots and salad. My wife rated the meal: Good meal. Meat's crispy, food's hot.
So far, so good. Only in my opinion the meat was dried out and the mashed potatoes smelled funny. They smelled funny in a way that suggested a certain rottenness. As if a rotten potato had somehow snook its way into the pot. Argh. One of the last ones out of the 20 pound bag. The ones that had gotten wet.
We passed on eating it.
Conclusion number one: Don't use oil if you have butter, and don't let your potatoes get wet a.k.a. MAKE FUCKING SURE they are not rotten.
Indicators for rottenness:
- funny smell in potato-storage
- weird brown liquid in potato-storage that seemingly comes out of potatoes
- potatoes are soft to the touch or go pfft when applying pressure
- potatoes have interesting non-potatoish-colours: shades of grey and brown, mostly
- presence of flies and other insects
Conclusion number two: Act according to what's there. Stop believing everything will be okay. Not every potato is good just because you want it to be.
I should have known better.
Well, what can I say. Fruit's less expensive, the variety of yoghurts available for purchase is bigger, and I got myself a fishing rod.
Curse me, I bought it at evil Walmart.
I also got line, a bunch of weights, a number of hooks and one little box to put all the stuff into. Paid 48 bucks for it. Seems like now I have to go fishing. My wife said she's expecting me to bring fresh fish home at least thrice a week.
Today evil fate had me fall victim to a serious cooking misfortune. I made pork with mashed potatoes, spinach and carrots and salad. My wife rated the meal: Good meal. Meat's crispy, food's hot.
So far, so good. Only in my opinion the meat was dried out and the mashed potatoes smelled funny. They smelled funny in a way that suggested a certain rottenness. As if a rotten potato had somehow snook its way into the pot. Argh. One of the last ones out of the 20 pound bag. The ones that had gotten wet.
We passed on eating it.
Conclusion number one: Don't use oil if you have butter, and don't let your potatoes get wet a.k.a. MAKE FUCKING SURE they are not rotten.
Indicators for rottenness:
- funny smell in potato-storage
- weird brown liquid in potato-storage that seemingly comes out of potatoes
- potatoes are soft to the touch or go pfft when applying pressure
- potatoes have interesting non-potatoish-colours: shades of grey and brown, mostly
- presence of flies and other insects
Conclusion number two: Act according to what's there. Stop believing everything will be okay. Not every potato is good just because you want it to be.
I should have known better.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Exclusive Interview with legendary rock band The Hurricanes of Rock's guitarist Greedy MacWanterson
With the release of new Brato Useba songs on the horizon, NakNakOverThere is proud to present an exclusive interview with Hurricanes of Rock guitarist Greedy MacWanterson, who not only tells us about working with Brato Useba, but also reveals the title of the upcoming tune.
NNOT: Mr. MacWanterson-
G.MacW: Call me Greedy, Man.
NNOT: Okay, Greedy. Brato Useba has collaborated again with The Hurricanes of Rock--
Greedy: Yeah, man. He just called one evening. We were just...er-- having a good time. And he said, I mean-- Man, it's been an honour to work with the guy in the first place and then he calls again? Fuck man, we we're thrilled!
NNOT: How is it to work with a musical mastermind like Brato Useba?
Greedy: Man, the guy's a genius. He does things nobody dares to do!
NNOT: Can you give us an example?
Greedy: Man, you know, we're a rock band, man. Everything goes by the book. Like... we wanna re-record, because someone played a wrong note or so, but then Brato says: Stop right there! There's no such thing as a wrong note! That's why they call it music! And so we discover a shitload full of new frontiers in music making!
NNOT: Yet there a voices claiming that all Brato Useba projects sound kind of the same...
Greedy: Fuck them! Why do you think he works together with so many different bands? They want him! Because he's got the ideas, man! He opens the doors! He makes it happen!
NNOT: The new song doesn't sound like a typical Hurricanes of Rock song at all. How much Hurricanes is in there, and how much Brato Useba?
Greedy: Fuck man, aren't you listening to me? If you work with Brato Useba, you work with Brato Useba. Everything else is secondary. It's a revelation, man!
NNOT: About the new song. What can we expect? Will it again give people what by now is known as the Brato Useba-ish sensation?
Greedy: You man the WTF? Yeah, man. And you know what? That's what it's all about. Having something to say! And some people get it, other people don't. Have you ever listened to a Hurricanes of Rock album?
NNOT: Er-
Greedy: All we ever sing about is getting drunk and shooting H and fucking hookers and driving motorcycles, man. 17 records, man! 17 records! But then Brato Useba showed us the important things in this world!
NNOT: Can you be more specific?
Greedy: Man, stuff that doesn't have a voice, man, stuff that can't speak for itself! The new track will open people's eyes, man!
NNOT: When will the new song come out?
Greedy: When it's done, man, when it's done.
NNOT: Can you tell us the title?
Greedy: Yeah, why not. Song's called Mouldy.
NNOT: Thank you for this interview, Greedy.
Greedy: You're welcome, man.
NNOT: Mr. MacWanterson-
G.MacW: Call me Greedy, Man.
NNOT: Okay, Greedy. Brato Useba has collaborated again with The Hurricanes of Rock--
Greedy: Yeah, man. He just called one evening. We were just...er-- having a good time. And he said, I mean-- Man, it's been an honour to work with the guy in the first place and then he calls again? Fuck man, we we're thrilled!
NNOT: How is it to work with a musical mastermind like Brato Useba?
Greedy: Man, the guy's a genius. He does things nobody dares to do!
NNOT: Can you give us an example?
Greedy: Man, you know, we're a rock band, man. Everything goes by the book. Like... we wanna re-record, because someone played a wrong note or so, but then Brato says: Stop right there! There's no such thing as a wrong note! That's why they call it music! And so we discover a shitload full of new frontiers in music making!
NNOT: Yet there a voices claiming that all Brato Useba projects sound kind of the same...
Greedy: Fuck them! Why do you think he works together with so many different bands? They want him! Because he's got the ideas, man! He opens the doors! He makes it happen!
NNOT: The new song doesn't sound like a typical Hurricanes of Rock song at all. How much Hurricanes is in there, and how much Brato Useba?
Greedy: Fuck man, aren't you listening to me? If you work with Brato Useba, you work with Brato Useba. Everything else is secondary. It's a revelation, man!
NNOT: About the new song. What can we expect? Will it again give people what by now is known as the Brato Useba-ish sensation?
Greedy: You man the WTF? Yeah, man. And you know what? That's what it's all about. Having something to say! And some people get it, other people don't. Have you ever listened to a Hurricanes of Rock album?
NNOT: Er-
Greedy: All we ever sing about is getting drunk and shooting H and fucking hookers and driving motorcycles, man. 17 records, man! 17 records! But then Brato Useba showed us the important things in this world!
NNOT: Can you be more specific?
Greedy: Man, stuff that doesn't have a voice, man, stuff that can't speak for itself! The new track will open people's eyes, man!
NNOT: When will the new song come out?
Greedy: When it's done, man, when it's done.
NNOT: Can you tell us the title?
Greedy: Yeah, why not. Song's called Mouldy.
NNOT: Thank you for this interview, Greedy.
Greedy: You're welcome, man.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
I Don't Run in the Rain
Today I made a rather regular and seemingly unexiting meal*, but it received the best rating so far. And not even for the real meal, but for the leftovers.
My wife rated them:
Fuckin' awesome!!!
That's something.
Apart from that it is raining today. All the time. And today is a running day.
I don't run in the rain.
Where I come from, people don't run in the rain. In this country, however, I've seen people running in the rain. And not just some spitting, real pouring rain. Crazy! Completely weird! Pouring rain is not the time for running. It's the time for sitting in a hot bathtub eating chocolate-covered vanilla icecream on a stick.
So I'll run tomorrow.
*Mashed potatoes, beans, carrots, chicken, salad. A picture showing a similar dish should be in one of the older posts.
My wife rated them:
Fuckin' awesome!!!
That's something.
Apart from that it is raining today. All the time. And today is a running day.
I don't run in the rain.
Where I come from, people don't run in the rain. In this country, however, I've seen people running in the rain. And not just some spitting, real pouring rain. Crazy! Completely weird! Pouring rain is not the time for running. It's the time for sitting in a hot bathtub eating chocolate-covered vanilla icecream on a stick.
So I'll run tomorrow.
*Mashed potatoes, beans, carrots, chicken, salad. A picture showing a similar dish should be in one of the older posts.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Announcement: New Tunes
Chopped spinach is a pain to drain, but chopped is the only kind available here. We enjoyed its flavour with mashed potatoes, yellow beans and pork the day before yesterday.
Then it was time for a little variety, so I made rice. Rice goes well with chili, so I made chili. Ratings for both meals range between Very good meal and Man, I love your chili.Workout: Still running regularily.
And one more thing:
I hereby announce new music. Pretty soon, rather sooner than later, soonish, so to speak, it will be possible to listen to new tunes (through the player on the right). The preliminary list currently involves, among others, the following artists and songs:
- Brato Useba and The Pentagrams of Death - Maggots Under My Roof
- The Brato Useba Orchestre de Danse - Peanutbuttersandwich (La Version Électrique de Bière)
- Brato Goes to Exile - Breakfastsong
Recordings are in progress. However, since certain delays are a daily occurance (artist's attitudes, delayed delivery of necessary equipment (hookers, booze, crack)), as of right now no specific release date can be given.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Ghosts
Apparently they've got ghosts over at the medical clinic. The houskeeping staff has been seen spraying the premises with some liquid out of a big bottle. It says Holy Water on the bottle, and they use it to keep the ghosties at bay.
Does it work?
Well, I can only speculate. If it works, is it because...
- it renders any ghosts invisible/makes them friendly?
- it is a general fact that all ghosts can't stand holy water?
- holy water only works on ghosts that are still or at least were once themselves believers?
- the person spraying the holy water is a believer?
- ghosts don't exist in the first place, so spraying stuff only gets rid of what isn't even there, which means we could smear strawberry jam into every corner to make the place whatever-we're-afraid-of-proof?
Well, I don't know. But they do frequently spray the medical clinic with holy water here. It's part of the routine. Take out garbage, mow lawns, get supplies, have lunch, fix roof, spray holy water.
By the way, what happens if one drinks holy water? Is that a way to save oneself from becoming i.e. a zombie or vampire after one dies? Or will it make one a 'good' ghost? Or will it prevent one from ever becoming a ghost at all?
Perhaps holy water doesn't have any powers, maybe it works like the magic potion in 'Asterix in Britain'. Holy water. It simply has to be more exquisite than plain water.
Does it work?
Well, I can only speculate. If it works, is it because...
- it renders any ghosts invisible/makes them friendly?
- it is a general fact that all ghosts can't stand holy water?
- holy water only works on ghosts that are still or at least were once themselves believers?
- the person spraying the holy water is a believer?
- ghosts don't exist in the first place, so spraying stuff only gets rid of what isn't even there, which means we could smear strawberry jam into every corner to make the place whatever-we're-afraid-of-proof?
Well, I don't know. But they do frequently spray the medical clinic with holy water here. It's part of the routine. Take out garbage, mow lawns, get supplies, have lunch, fix roof, spray holy water.
By the way, what happens if one drinks holy water? Is that a way to save oneself from becoming i.e. a zombie or vampire after one dies? Or will it make one a 'good' ghost? Or will it prevent one from ever becoming a ghost at all?
Perhaps holy water doesn't have any powers, maybe it works like the magic potion in 'Asterix in Britain'. Holy water. It simply has to be more exquisite than plain water.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Horse Story
Once upon a time there was a horse walking down the road. It was dusty and thirsty, for it had come a long way. As dusk was setting, the horse came to a little town and made its way straight to the saloon. In it walked and up to the bar, where a bored bartender was polishing the same glass over and over again. The place was empty, except for three drunk men who were sitting at a corner table, playing poker.
"Whisky", said the horse.
The bartender didn't respond.
"I said: Whisky!"
No answer.
"I said Whisky", said the horse again, louder this time.
Finally the bartender turned his head a bit and said: "We don't serve horses here."
"Excuse me?" said the horse.
"I said: We don't serve horses here." The bartender went back to polishing his glass.
The horse stared at him.
"So where do they serve horses?"
"Across the street."
The horse nodded slowly, said "Thank you" and walked out of the saloon, across the street, and into the other saloon.
The place was packed. There were people everywhere, dancing, singing, talking, laughing and of course drinking. Music was playing and everybody was cheerful and happy. The horse made its way through the crowd and up to the bar, where no less than seven bartenders were struggling to get drinks to everyone.
"Whisky", said the horse.
No-one seemed to notice.
"Whisky", said the horse, louder this time.
The seven bartenders kept flying, serving drinks to everybody but the horse.
"I said: Whisky!" said the horse again, when suddenly someone was tapping it on the shoulder.
The horse turned around, and there stood a little girl.
"Excuse me", said the little girl, "but in this saloon we say 'please'."
"Oh", said the horse, "of course. My bad." And turning back to bar it said: "Whisky, please."
And in an instant all seven bartenders were right there, asking: "On the rocks?"
"Yes, please."
One moment later the drink was there, and the horse took a long sip.
"Ah!" it said. "How refreshing after such a long day of travel."
"You're not from around, are you?" asked the girl. "Where are you from?"
"Kamchatka", said the horse. "And you?"
"Alaska", said the girl.
"Wow", said the horse. "What a coincidence. I heard one can see Kamchatka from there! Fancy we're meeting here in-- where are we exactly?"
"This is Bumfucknowhere North America", said the girl.
"Oh", said the horse.
The girl smiled: "Want another drink? My treat."
"Sure."
And so the horse and the girl kept drinking, and they drank happily ever after.
"Whisky", said the horse.
The bartender didn't respond.
"I said: Whisky!"
No answer.
"I said Whisky", said the horse again, louder this time.
Finally the bartender turned his head a bit and said: "We don't serve horses here."
"Excuse me?" said the horse.
"I said: We don't serve horses here." The bartender went back to polishing his glass.
The horse stared at him.
"So where do they serve horses?"
"Across the street."
The horse nodded slowly, said "Thank you" and walked out of the saloon, across the street, and into the other saloon.
The place was packed. There were people everywhere, dancing, singing, talking, laughing and of course drinking. Music was playing and everybody was cheerful and happy. The horse made its way through the crowd and up to the bar, where no less than seven bartenders were struggling to get drinks to everyone.
"Whisky", said the horse.
No-one seemed to notice.
"Whisky", said the horse, louder this time.
The seven bartenders kept flying, serving drinks to everybody but the horse.
"I said: Whisky!" said the horse again, when suddenly someone was tapping it on the shoulder.
The horse turned around, and there stood a little girl.
"Excuse me", said the little girl, "but in this saloon we say 'please'."
"Oh", said the horse, "of course. My bad." And turning back to bar it said: "Whisky, please."
And in an instant all seven bartenders were right there, asking: "On the rocks?"
"Yes, please."
One moment later the drink was there, and the horse took a long sip.
"Ah!" it said. "How refreshing after such a long day of travel."
"You're not from around, are you?" asked the girl. "Where are you from?"
"Kamchatka", said the horse. "And you?"
"Alaska", said the girl.
"Wow", said the horse. "What a coincidence. I heard one can see Kamchatka from there! Fancy we're meeting here in-- where are we exactly?"
"This is Bumfucknowhere North America", said the girl.
"Oh", said the horse.
The girl smiled: "Want another drink? My treat."
"Sure."
And so the horse and the girl kept drinking, and they drank happily ever after.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Pippi Longstocking & Spunk
I don't know what the hell came over me to watch the English dubbed version of Pippi Langstrump aka Pippi Longstocking, a Swedish movie made in 1969 after the children books of Astrid Lindgren. I had last seen it (dubbed German) as a kid, when I was 8 perhaps. I remember I quite enjoyed it, and the sequels, too.
Watching carefree Pippi lifting up her horse, climbing rooftops and flying in a balloon with her friends Tommy and Annika again as a grown-up however isn't nearly as much fun. That might largely be because of the English dubbing, though. Remember when Pippi invents a new word? Well, in the English version the word is SPUNK. Yes. Spunk. Kind of funny when Pippi asks the store clerk if he's selling a spunk, or when she shows up at the kindergartener's house looking for the spunk. So either back in 1973 (the year they dubbed it) the word spunk hadn't yet entered into everyday's slang vocabulary, or the dubbing people were on crack. I think they were, because they also must have been hallucinating when they picked a person who can't seem to hold a note to sing the theme-song.
Am I a bad person because I made my wife suffer through it? I thought I'd show here what I liked as a child. Emphasis on liked and as a child.
Well, well. I think we'll watch part 2 soon, too.
Last tuesday we gave all the cookies I had made away to the guys who took us fishing. A thank-you-thing. So my wife kept bugging me and bugging me to make new cookies. Even my cake experiment didn't put her off. So I finally made new cookies today. They look just like the ones I made before, so no new picture. The cookies are: Sooooooo goooooooood!
Mr. Delicious however deserves a picture. We ate what was left of him today. Rating: An awesome meal!
Went running, too. Yesterday, too. Tomorrow? Maybe.
Oh, I rewatched Terminator 3 last week. And I don't think it's under-appreciated or something. It still sucks. The whole TX-can-control-other-machines-thing just doesn't make sense. But I am looking forward to Jonathan Mostow's new project: Surrogates. With Bruce Willis. In theatres in september.
Oh, right. I forgot. I'm in bf-nowhere. There is no cinema. Well, in the grand scheme of things, that is probably good for something.
Whatever that may be.
Watching carefree Pippi lifting up her horse, climbing rooftops and flying in a balloon with her friends Tommy and Annika again as a grown-up however isn't nearly as much fun. That might largely be because of the English dubbing, though. Remember when Pippi invents a new word? Well, in the English version the word is SPUNK. Yes. Spunk. Kind of funny when Pippi asks the store clerk if he's selling a spunk, or when she shows up at the kindergartener's house looking for the spunk. So either back in 1973 (the year they dubbed it) the word spunk hadn't yet entered into everyday's slang vocabulary, or the dubbing people were on crack. I think they were, because they also must have been hallucinating when they picked a person who can't seem to hold a note to sing the theme-song.
Am I a bad person because I made my wife suffer through it? I thought I'd show here what I liked as a child. Emphasis on liked and as a child.
Well, well. I think we'll watch part 2 soon, too.
Last tuesday we gave all the cookies I had made away to the guys who took us fishing. A thank-you-thing. So my wife kept bugging me and bugging me to make new cookies. Even my cake experiment didn't put her off. So I finally made new cookies today. They look just like the ones I made before, so no new picture. The cookies are: Sooooooo goooooooood!Mr. Delicious however deserves a picture. We ate what was left of him today. Rating: An awesome meal!
Went running, too. Yesterday, too. Tomorrow? Maybe.
Oh, I rewatched Terminator 3 last week. And I don't think it's under-appreciated or something. It still sucks. The whole TX-can-control-other-machines-thing just doesn't make sense. But I am looking forward to Jonathan Mostow's new project: Surrogates. With Bruce Willis. In theatres in september.
Oh, right. I forgot. I'm in bf-nowhere. There is no cinema. Well, in the grand scheme of things, that is probably good for something.
Whatever that may be.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Twice As Good
I think I have sufficiently fulfilled the request for more food pictures, but here's yet another one. Today we had Pasta (shaped like little bowties) with tomato sauce. (Ingredients: A bit of olive oil, 1 onion, garlic, 1 can of crushed tomatoes, 1 small can tomato paste, water, salt, pepper, sugar. And of course (cut to pieces) Salami.) Rating: Very delicious!*My wife found out today that there's a car available for going to the store (at own risk). Of course now they're all crazy for buying heavy stuff. Like i.e. a 20 pound bag of potatoes. But what about carrying it home? Doesn't the food taste twice as good knowing it has been carried all the way home? Doesn't that fact alone makes us appreciate the food more?
I guess not.
By the way, I've added a music player on the right. It currently plays two songs. Sometimes it doesn't seem to work, reloading the whole page seems to fix that.
*Guess what. My wife said that. And I agree.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Today
Today was laundry day. So I did that. Took maybe 15 minutes. (Put in, take out, put in, take out, fold, put away.)Today was cleaning day. So I did that. Took me 2 hours.
(Bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, change sheets, vacuum the place.)
Today was cooking day. As it is everyday. Took maybe 35 minutes. (Rating: Soo good. Deliiiiicious!*)
Today was grocery shopping day. Took altogether perhaps 90 minutes. (I also went to the post office.)
Today was running day. So I did that. Took 20 minutes.
The rest of the day I spent surfing the net, checking out computers, reading forums, communicating with online stores. I also read some more Le Carré, The Honourable Schoolboy, but I find it hard to read. Too "British" somehow. Telling the story around too many corners. (Right now it's the only book I have.)
So I played guitar, too.
*Rated by my wife. Meal consisted of pork, mashed potatoes, yellow beans, green beans, corn. Salad on the side. Dessert: A piece of yesterday's cake-experiment.
Current Dream Notebook
Clevo D900F Barebone
17 Inch 1920x1200 WUXGA LCD
Intel Core i7 950 CPU 3.06 Ghz
6 GB 1333 RAM
NVIDIA GForce GTX 280M 1GB
3 x 320GB 7200 RPM SATA HDD
HARDWARE RAID 5
2x BluRay Reader/8xDVD SuperMulti Drive
Intel Wifi Link 5300AGN
etc.
Current lowest available prices:
US: about 3100$
Canada: about 4100 CAD
Europe: about 2900 Euro
Conclusion: Canadians pay approx. 500 US$ more, Europeans pay a 1000 US$ more.
Well, well. Guess where I am gonna shop.
Anyway, I will wait until Windows7 comes out in October. Intel has new CPUs on the way, too.
Three more months to dream.
17 Inch 1920x1200 WUXGA LCD
Intel Core i7 950 CPU 3.06 Ghz
6 GB 1333 RAM
NVIDIA GForce GTX 280M 1GB
3 x 320GB 7200 RPM SATA HDD
HARDWARE RAID 5
2x BluRay Reader/8xDVD SuperMulti Drive
Intel Wifi Link 5300AGN
etc.
Current lowest available prices:
US: about 3100$
Canada: about 4100 CAD
Europe: about 2900 Euro
Conclusion: Canadians pay approx. 500 US$ more, Europeans pay a 1000 US$ more.
Well, well. Guess where I am gonna shop.
Anyway, I will wait until Windows7 comes out in October. Intel has new CPUs on the way, too.
Three more months to dream.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Evening Baking Experiment
In the middle of the night (well, my mother would call it that, it was only about 9 PM) I decided to make a cake. Since we just got here but our stuff hasn't, I had to cheat a bit ingredient-wise. Replace cinnamon with coconut, leave out raisins etc, you know how it is sometimes.
The outcome of my baking experiment can be seen on the picture, it's an apple-cake, maybe a very distant relative of the Austrian Strudel. Maybe. It tastes alright, though.
My wife's rating: It's good. I like it.*
*I guess that could mean just about anything.
The outcome of my baking experiment can be seen on the picture, it's an apple-cake, maybe a very distant relative of the Austrian Strudel. Maybe. It tastes alright, though.My wife's rating: It's good. I like it.*
*I guess that could mean just about anything.
Out Of The Lake And Onto The Plate
There he is. Mr. Delicious. Well, what's left of him: His fillets. Oh, what a fish.Rolled in flour every so slightly, a dash of lemon juice, a pinch of pepper; then fried. Served with mashed potatoes, green beans and corn, a bit of salad.
Melts on your tongue.
Rating: Sooo goood! Very full of awesomeness!*
*The cook agrees.
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