for thousands of years the stone bridge stood as guardian of the galaxy. that was a time before the darkness, before the rise of trucks that twatted it as they, i am reliably informed, went around the corner of it too fast and evidently far too tight.
the web seems pleasantly blessed with many pictures of the damaged bridge, but so far as i know none of them feature it via the medium of Commodore 64 mode with the scan lines turned on. as i happened to have the iTwat on me, going as i was for a stroll as i listened to Morrissey's Your Arsenal album, i thought i should correct this circumstance.
Morrissey's Your Arsenal album has been re-released, featuring no (zero) extra tracks and a live DVD. i have oodles of live DVDs of Morrissey showing disdain and contempt for audiences, so i have decided to skip the investment. a lot of people claim that it is Morrissey's best solo album; to them i say i am very sorry indeed to learn that you have not thus far in your life heard the Vauxhall & I album.
i am aware of the proprietor, or retailer, whose truck did this damage, but as i did not see it myself i suspect i cannot name them. let me be co-operative with this assumption of mine. blimey, co-operative - that's quite a word to get your pronunciation around the corner of. much faster, then, to just say co-op to say the same thing, no?
as to how long the bridge will remain in disrepair, who knows. one would think that the proprietor, in the interests of decency and PR, would make arrangements soonest, but conversely one knows this is likely to be tied up in all sorts of legal paperwork and insurance reviews. in this day and age, someone knacking a bridge in a truck is no more an immediate sign of guilt than someone shooting someone through a bathroom door is.
i find it somewhat close to quite class that i cannot presently get employment doing one of the few things that i am halfway decent at, yet someone is doing a job that i would not make such a mess of, even with my less than stellar driving skill. i mean, sure, i might have brought a whole load of traffic on a bridge to a stop with the odd minor engine blowing up, but i've never challenged the integrity of the bridge itself.
so if anyone wants me to drive a truck or something for them, pay attention - i might not be the best, i may get lost now and then, but i am certain i will not knack a bridge in doing it.
it would be quite tedious and not at all interesting, i suspect, to say too much more on that. actually, looking at the stats, many of you are at last accepting that this blog of mine is quite tedious and not at all interesting, so there's a pretty good match i suppose. some sort of ying-yang business, perhaps.
on my travels i discovered that my iTwat thing is a little bit cleverer than i thought as it can, in a fashion, multi-task. to that end, here's a picture of me taken as i listened to the Morrissey album i mentioned; the name of which escapes me for the moment.
i do somehow look better, i think, in Commodore 64 mode than i do in the real world. don't we all, you may well say, don't we all.
as i got, as you can no doubt presume, all excited about the fact that this device - which recently did one of them update things without erasing everything on it - could do two things at once, i took further pictures as i strolled in my strides. i would not wish to bore you with all that many of the pictures, but here is a nice one of them.
my stroll took me in the general direction of a store, which was most convenient as i was obliged to purchase some milk and bread for the house; things like that. as i was conducting the transaction for those i noted something of interest - one of the premier, elite and, if you will bourgeois brands of cigarettes in South Africa seems, price wise, to be one of the cheaper and thus presumed to be nastier brands here. the interest level, then, was of an impulse buy status.
yes, friends and family over there, that price is cheap here. that, mindful of the wildly fluctuating exchange rate at present, works out at roughly R115, which would equal at least three packets of the same in any store you like in Johannesburg. they probably charge more in the Town of the Cape, mostly because they are like that down there.
do they taste and perform the same as South African ones? no idea, really, as i have not cracked them open yet. at the price i am kind of thinking they are a trifle expensive to simply ignite and burn.
there are some obvious differences, however. the size, for one thing. these are, apparently "king size", which is quite strange as England has not had a king for quite some time now. well, except for King Freddie the Aussie slayer, of course, but i suspect the reference king size does not pertain to him. bonus if i am wrong and it does, like.
king size, as per the below comparative picture, means that they are slightly longer. and, width of packet wise, seem to be somewhat thinner too.
my mate Spiros, who is not really known or renowned for smoking much at all, does say that when he does indulge he really, really likes a long, thin white one in his mouth. he may well like these, then, i shall mention it to him when we next agree to talk.
you may well be able to make out the packet shows off what looks like quite a smart bit of surgery, in which it seems a crack squadron of ace surgeons are refurbishing or doing some other sort of customization to the lungs of someone; someone that is probably meant to be a smoker but they have not confirmed that it is. it might be some chap that just fancied his lungs fiddled with.
i wonder if that image is one of a series. i seem to recall that once upon a time something called "cigarette cards" existed; a series of related images one collected, featuring pictures of cars and assorted endeavours from the Cold War. it would be excellent if this is a continuation of this.
if they were hoping to put on the packets an image that would persuade people not to smoke, they should rather take the approach of them clever people in India, or Egypt, or wherever it was. them that put the picture of Mr Chelsea, the greatest ambassador football or indeed the world has ever known, John Terry, on the packets. if they put him on the packet, not only would people say "if i smoke then that means i am going to be like him and i do not want to be like him", but they would probably walk around with planks of wood - quite possibly with nails in it - and assume that anyone they saw was in some way a representative of "JT 23" or whatever he calls himself. nature would duly take its course for a few moments thereafter.
yeah, i probably should cease, stop and quit and all that. a total lack of willpower at the moment, though, and this is the only addiction i have, bar an addiction, of course, to quality music. hey ho, at these prices i believe i will have to try. unless i can somehow meet up and connect with one of them dodgy illegal cigarette sellers one hears so much of but seldom actually sees.
for the novelty factor, in the hope that it may well serve as some sort of inspiration or guidance in the world of contemplating just stopping with them as they are silly, this would be an image of the receipt to hammer home the point of the price, then.
anyway, that would be about it for this post. to the five or six people who still read this blog, many thanks indeed for doing so and i will do my best to keep going with whatever it is you find interesting here!
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!