This recreated Dark Age settlement
just beyond the walls of Jórvík
took volunteers 9 years to construct
- using wattle and daub and plenty of elbow grease.
Today the dwellings are standing-in for the hamlet of Crowhurst;
an insignificant boghole, 8 miles from the beach at Pevensey,
where William The Bastard and
his conquistadors first put ashore.
Crowhurst and the hinterland surrounding it
were razed to the ground. Its tiny population
put to sleep by sword. And borne to their Maker.
Today's a Sunday, and the abattoir next door is closed for business.
Now, I’m not an expert on these things, but it certainly smells
as if a couple of cadavers may have been left to rot overnight.
The fetid aroma, it has to be said, only helps add to the authenticity.
It’s just a shame about the constant rumble
of traffic pounding the A64 dual-carriageway.
I’m not an expert on these things,
but I suspect I'm right in thinking
that this vital trunk road
wasn’t quite so busy back in yee olden times.
Murton Park Danelaw Village
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
TIA CARRERE MUNCHING ON AMERICA FERRERA...
Ah! SALUT!
I've been on hiatus on a majestic beach in Thailand, far removed from cyberspace and tabloid fodder.
It's been real because Tilda Swinton wasn't even all that crazy in retrospect, eventhough she has quite prominent cheekbones...
...and slapped me around a few times when I called her Cate Blanchface and yeah, she wasn't really that crazy eventhough I felt physically pained when she rolled her eyes harder than eyes have ever been rolled before after I told her she needn't be so icy and conniving outside of Narnia...
Then came the dirty look to soil all dirty looks...
And THEN Tilda rose up from all that jiggy stardust and we actually horsed around a bit and it was kind of sweet and romantic like Scottish countryside...
Enough about the beach.
It's great to be back in the real world now, eventhough I'm still a bit off from when I went a little bit nutso and started living my life like a violent video game but it happens to the best of us but what can you do, eh?!
I'm cybering it up and I just got an awesome e-mail of a happy picture of me and all those people on that majestic beach in Thailand before shit went batty and I lost my marbles and my beach cred.
More importantly, these days my pockets are filled with more than pocket lint and I got to money jane my steady a bit this past weekend with some shine and dine action and some spying on a middle-aged couple making out like teenagers after dark by the fountain at Carre St Louis.
There's nothing like falling for the first time...
I'm moving along with the world and I know have this mini computerish device that allows me to go on the internet and create word documents and that is cool because I am sick of the library and my apartment and I hate being that person who is checking their e-mail at house parties or that person who writes a blog when they go home to Ottawa for Canada Day where the internet runs free, instead of eating paella in the garden with one's family, and SO...maybe I will be more vicious with RAID THA FRIDGE now that I have this mini computerish device that I can take with me to the beach even!
Thattagirl.
I have yet to figure out how to do FRENCH ACCENTS and if my fingers were any fatter, it would probably make for a problematic relationship with this dwarfified keyboard....
Other big news includes the sweet fact that I am riding Tia Carrere again and loving every soft-core minute of it.
Tia Carrere being my turquoise bicycle that answers to the name of Tia Carrere.
Just like Tia Carrera!
She has yellow and pink accents that make for semi-exotic romps and a big black box to put my junk in at the back, which comes as a surprise, all things considered.
The best part was when my mom asked me what I decided to name my bike and I told her Tia Carrere and she thought it sounded nice enough but asked why.
And then I said "She's kind of like, she's like this B-list actress sort of, well...B list?? She's in some soft core and ummm, you know the movie High School High??"
Blank stare.
"Or remember that time we were in that hotel that time and we got the Playboy channel in our hotel room in that hotel??"
In retrospect, I only watched it when they left the room...
I'm getting cozy enough with one of my coworkers that it seemed fit to disclose to one another our "number" and thoughts on "doing it".
One, of course, is not the loneliest number if you happened to find true and lasting love as a teenager, as did one of our Ben and Jerry's elders, he that will be married next July to his girlfriend of like 9 years.
Back to my Ben and Jerry's equal. If anyone is 19ish (or into 19ish guys) and brunette and into microbiology and down for kinky shit and not just kinky during phone sex and totally lame otherwise, kinky all the time, and owns their own whip (because he doesn't have the cash for a good one right now because he blew it all on "good ropes" and "safe harnesses"), well I've got the guy for you and he's smart and well-travelled and quite possibly well-hung considering his particular racial hybrid classification...
I'm also taking a creative writing class that I'm having fun with and my steady just found an apartment on Mount Royal with a private rooftop terrace fit for a friendly game of GERMAN HANDBALL and if they approve him, then I'll be set for three awesome outdoor 23rd birthday parties, not unlike when Paris Hilton turned 21 and rocked that shit in Tokyo, New York, Las Vegas, London and Hollywood (but oddly enough, not Paris...) or the time Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale got married twice in one month in two different continents like it was no big whoop.
No big whoop. You know, like going to jail.
Maybe John Galliano will throw in a gown in exchange for publicity and street cred...
If anyone talks to him, let him know I don't MIND something floorlength but I'd kind of prefer to show some thigh, I mean I know it will be late August and possibly chillier than it is today but ask that John Galliano bear with me considering all the free publicity he'd get for giving me a free outfit for my birthday party/parties.
Bye now!
I've been on hiatus on a majestic beach in Thailand, far removed from cyberspace and tabloid fodder.
It's been real because Tilda Swinton wasn't even all that crazy in retrospect, eventhough she has quite prominent cheekbones...
...and slapped me around a few times when I called her Cate Blanchface and yeah, she wasn't really that crazy eventhough I felt physically pained when she rolled her eyes harder than eyes have ever been rolled before after I told her she needn't be so icy and conniving outside of Narnia...
Then came the dirty look to soil all dirty looks...
And THEN Tilda rose up from all that jiggy stardust and we actually horsed around a bit and it was kind of sweet and romantic like Scottish countryside...
Enough about the beach.
It's great to be back in the real world now, eventhough I'm still a bit off from when I went a little bit nutso and started living my life like a violent video game but it happens to the best of us but what can you do, eh?!
I'm cybering it up and I just got an awesome e-mail of a happy picture of me and all those people on that majestic beach in Thailand before shit went batty and I lost my marbles and my beach cred.
More importantly, these days my pockets are filled with more than pocket lint and I got to money jane my steady a bit this past weekend with some shine and dine action and some spying on a middle-aged couple making out like teenagers after dark by the fountain at Carre St Louis.
There's nothing like falling for the first time...
I'm moving along with the world and I know have this mini computerish device that allows me to go on the internet and create word documents and that is cool because I am sick of the library and my apartment and I hate being that person who is checking their e-mail at house parties or that person who writes a blog when they go home to Ottawa for Canada Day where the internet runs free, instead of eating paella in the garden with one's family, and SO...maybe I will be more vicious with RAID THA FRIDGE now that I have this mini computerish device that I can take with me to the beach even!
Thattagirl.
I have yet to figure out how to do FRENCH ACCENTS and if my fingers were any fatter, it would probably make for a problematic relationship with this dwarfified keyboard....
Other big news includes the sweet fact that I am riding Tia Carrere again and loving every soft-core minute of it.
Tia Carrere being my turquoise bicycle that answers to the name of Tia Carrere.
Just like Tia Carrera!
She has yellow and pink accents that make for semi-exotic romps and a big black box to put my junk in at the back, which comes as a surprise, all things considered.
The best part was when my mom asked me what I decided to name my bike and I told her Tia Carrere and she thought it sounded nice enough but asked why.
And then I said "She's kind of like, she's like this B-list actress sort of, well...B list?? She's in some soft core and ummm, you know the movie High School High??"
Blank stare.
"Or remember that time we were in that hotel that time and we got the Playboy channel in our hotel room in that hotel??"
In retrospect, I only watched it when they left the room...
I'm getting cozy enough with one of my coworkers that it seemed fit to disclose to one another our "number" and thoughts on "doing it".
One, of course, is not the loneliest number if you happened to find true and lasting love as a teenager, as did one of our Ben and Jerry's elders, he that will be married next July to his girlfriend of like 9 years.
Back to my Ben and Jerry's equal. If anyone is 19ish (or into 19ish guys) and brunette and into microbiology and down for kinky shit and not just kinky during phone sex and totally lame otherwise, kinky all the time, and owns their own whip (because he doesn't have the cash for a good one right now because he blew it all on "good ropes" and "safe harnesses"), well I've got the guy for you and he's smart and well-travelled and quite possibly well-hung considering his particular racial hybrid classification...
I'm also taking a creative writing class that I'm having fun with and my steady just found an apartment on Mount Royal with a private rooftop terrace fit for a friendly game of GERMAN HANDBALL and if they approve him, then I'll be set for three awesome outdoor 23rd birthday parties, not unlike when Paris Hilton turned 21 and rocked that shit in Tokyo, New York, Las Vegas, London and Hollywood (but oddly enough, not Paris...) or the time Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale got married twice in one month in two different continents like it was no big whoop.
No big whoop. You know, like going to jail.
Maybe John Galliano will throw in a gown in exchange for publicity and street cred...
If anyone talks to him, let him know I don't MIND something floorlength but I'd kind of prefer to show some thigh, I mean I know it will be late August and possibly chillier than it is today but ask that John Galliano bear with me considering all the free publicity he'd get for giving me a free outfit for my birthday party/parties.
Bye now!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Vivat Harold Rex Anglorum!
The world sure is a big place;
full of many people seeking an escape
from the pressures and anxieties of everyday life.
Some choose to play World of Warcraft.
Some choose to learn Klingon (or tlhIngan).
Others still choose to dress in chainmail
and spend their weekends bashing 57 shades
of Living History hell out of each other
in muddy fields the length-and-breadth
of this Merry Olde Kingdom Of Enga-lond.
With a worldwide membership of around 600,
Regia Anglorum are one such organisation.
They're like the Sealed Knot "on acid". Or maybe bogmyrtle.
There’s Nigel and Roland and Big Joe.
There’s Johannah and Christine and Grace.
There’s Mike the field-archaeologist from South Wales.
And there’s Wōden-lookalike Kim, their self-appointed Eolder
(who doesn’t fight anymore, but takes 40% of all earnings).
Head shots are strictly banned in re-enactment combat.
As are all strikes to the hands and the feet and the joints.
When not skirmishing, members like to whittle wood,
drink mead and sew inside seams and undergarments
in a manner entirely appropriate to the period.
The gentleman playing King Harald Hardraada of Norway
is a systems-analyst from Nuneaton back in the “real world”.
He’s taken the day off work today.
Platted his hair before calling in sick.
Painted the skin around his eyes black with grease
whilst drinking a cup of tea from a polystyrene cup.
He’s promised to take a look at the stunt coordinator’s
broken laptop when we break for lunch.
But first, the small matter of the Battle Of Stamford Bridge...
Join Regia Anglorum
full of many people seeking an escape
from the pressures and anxieties of everyday life.
Some choose to play World of Warcraft.
Some choose to learn Klingon (or tlhIngan).
Others still choose to dress in chainmail
and spend their weekends bashing 57 shades
of Living History hell out of each other
in muddy fields the length-and-breadth
of this Merry Olde Kingdom Of Enga-lond.
With a worldwide membership of around 600,
Regia Anglorum are one such organisation.
They're like the Sealed Knot "on acid". Or maybe bogmyrtle.
There’s Nigel and Roland and Big Joe.
There’s Johannah and Christine and Grace.
There’s Mike the field-archaeologist from South Wales.
And there’s Wōden-lookalike Kim, their self-appointed Eolder
(who doesn’t fight anymore, but takes 40% of all earnings).
Head shots are strictly banned in re-enactment combat.
As are all strikes to the hands and the feet and the joints.
When not skirmishing, members like to whittle wood,
drink mead and sew inside seams and undergarments
in a manner entirely appropriate to the period.
The gentleman playing King Harald Hardraada of Norway
is a systems-analyst from Nuneaton back in the “real world”.
He’s taken the day off work today.
Platted his hair before calling in sick.
Painted the skin around his eyes black with grease
whilst drinking a cup of tea from a polystyrene cup.
He’s promised to take a look at the stunt coordinator’s
broken laptop when we break for lunch.
But first, the small matter of the Battle Of Stamford Bridge...
Join Regia Anglorum
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