"The London Olympics will have, what's the word I want?, an intimacy. The site will be smaller than the Beijing Park, it will be cosier, as estate agents would put it.

"It will still be a vast site and there will be many spectacular things to see there, but there is no need, we think, to spend that amount of money."

Now, normally, I'd be a bit suspicious of cost-cutting exercises with something of this scale but -- especially given the tumultuous effects of the excesses of recent years, which we are now having to deal with -- I actually quite like the sound of a cosier, more intimate and thrifty Olympic Games. In fact, if it were up to me I'd make the athletes get rid of their fancy, high-tech footwear and run in Marks & Spencer carpet slippers, which would fit in quite nicely with the "cosy" theme, I think.

Also, we could decentralise it. Never mind these flash stadia, let's stage the track and field events on school playing fields! Hell, we could even introduce new events -- which I know Boris would approve of. We could have Olympic standard egg and spoon races, a three legged race and (my favourite) a fat dads race. Yes, I can see it now! Families scattered about on their picnic blankets, pouring from thermos flasks of tea and eating potted beef sandwiches (white bread, with the crusts off.) The Olympics à la John Betjeman?

And then there's that other word the Boris uses; an "intimacy". Something else to conjure with -- but perhaps best left for another day ;)

© 2008 Gary William Murning

Good old Boris...

This will help cyclists deal with the madness of traffic by teaching them the cyclist's highway code,  teaching them how to avoid getting knocked down or run over, and how they can be more considerate of other road users and pedestrians.

The amount of traffic on London's roads needs to reduce before it comes to a stop, or Boris makes it to expensive for you to be there.  Looking for a space to park in is just about impossible,   if you do find a space, you are more likely to get some kind of high charge or even a parking ticket.

We are also hoping that the government will go ahead with scheme that gives cyclists free secured parking 24 hour a day. This will help make bikes less vulnerable to theft, there by reducing the cost of insurance. The government is looking for a 40% increase in bikes being used for traveling around London over the next 3 years, helping reduce the carbon footprint, making the public a lot healthier and reducing costs to the health service.

Shares continue to fall in London, as the credit crisis continues to take its toll on the banks and the economy, and on TV we still have to listen to that little Hobbit, Yvette Cooper - Treasury Minister and Mrs Balls, - as she continues to try to defend her Government's record.

At least her husband, Ed, admits Mandy's appointment is a "risk" -- and we thought the Government was against taking "excessive risks"?

No, that's only if it is other people's money.  That's why the Government is going to bail out banks by taking on shares.  The taxpayer will be exposed significantly.

A bit of Blonde Sense from Boris

Boris has shown some common sense not only on Sir Ian Bliar, but now he has ordered an enquiry on racism in the Met. 

In particular, the disgraceful treatment of Tarique Ghaffur and Ali Dizaei, either of whom if it had not been for their skin colour, would have been a shoe-in as Sir Ian's successor.  Why shouldn't the Met be led by someone of Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Caribbean, or any other non-English descent? 

Boris's much welcome enquiry is an important first step to deal with racial disharmony in the Met.  London is a multi-ethnic place and Boris (himself of Turkish descent) is showing that he can lead the city, for everyone, no matter what their colour, creed, or whatever.

Amerikaanse truckers deden het al in de jaren zestig tijdens hun lange ritten
over de highway: koken op het motorblok van hun truck. De opkomst van
wegrestaurants betekende het einde voor deze creatieve manier van koken. De
Vlamingen Bob van Laerhoven en Olivier Elen, pakten het idee weer op en
schreven er een vermakelijk boek over.

Door Boris Peters

Het kooktoestel in de garage onder het station van Leuven is op zijn minst
opmerkelijk te noemen; het is een oude Toyota. 'Een ST TA 22, uit 1972',
preciseert eigenaar en kok van dienst Olivier Elen. De Vlaming die zijn brood
verdient als journalist, fotograaf en muzikant schreef samen met
journalist/schrijver Bob van Laerhoven het boek Motorkoken voor Beginners.

Terwijl hij een koelbox met etenswaren en drank in de achterbak van de Japanse
klassieker zet, vertelt Olivier dat hij de auto van zijn opa kreeg voor zijn
achttiende verjaardag. 'Opa gebruikte hem om zo nu en dan een bak bier te halen
en eens per jaar naar de kust te rijden.' Hij start de motor en stuurt de garage
uit.
Als kind las hij over Amerikaanse en Canadese truckers die, toen er nog amper
wegrestaurants waren, tijdens lange ritten kookten op de motor van hun truck.
Dat wilde Olivier ook wel eens proberen, maar vader noch opa waren bereid hun
auto bloot te stellen aan zo'n experiment. Eenmaal dertig greep hij dan toch
eindelijk zijn kans. 'Ik wilde altijd al een boek schrijven en dacht opeens aan
mijn oude verlangen om dit uit te proberen.' Vriend Bob van Laerhoven, een
bekend Vlaams schrijver en journalist werd overgehaald mee te doen en Olivier
begon het internet af te struinen naar tips, kooktijden en technieken over
motorkoken. De Toyota stond nog bedrijfsklaar in de garage, dus het experiment
kon beginnen.
Bob en Olivier wilden het boek vooral niet te Amerikaans maken en kozen voor
streekgerechten. 'De eerste rit ging naar de zee en we maakten hotdogs met
zuurkool. Al snel roken we allerlei vreemde luchten. Bij motorkoken wordt de
kooktijd berekend in kilometers, niet in minuten. Ik had gelezen dat we
tenminste honderdvijftig kilometer nodig zouden hebben, maar ging ervan uit dat
die kooktijd minder zou zijn als we sneller reden.' Niet dus. Het resultaat, zo
is in het boek te lezen, waren halfgare worstjes met weinig aangenaam smakende
zuurkool.

De motor van de Toyota is inmiddels warmgedraaid en Olivier stopt om een
bescheiden demonstratie van zijn kookkunsten te geven. Zalm wordt zorgvuldig in
een envelop van aluminiumfolie gevouwen. Als ervaringsdeskundige weet de kok
inmiddels waar hij de envelop het best plaatst. Startende motorkokers wordt
aangeraden de nattevingertechniek te gebruiken om de beste warme plek te
ontdekken en 'draaiende delen en het luchtfilter vrij te laten' waarschuwen de
auteurs. 'Vastzetten van de envelop doen we met grote proppen aluminiumfolie'
zegt Olivier. De motorkap gaat dicht en we gaan weer op weg. Onze motorkok is
optimistisch, want sinds de eerste, niet echt geslaagde, poging hebben Bob en
Olivier doorgezet en inmiddels weten ze van wanten. In hun boek zijn talloze
recepten beschreven, stuk voor stuk in de praktijk getest. Paardensteak, verse
schelvis uit Oostende, kip met zwammen, zomaar een paar gerechten voor op het
motorblok. Tijdens het kookproces rijden de auteurs naar opmerkelijke
bestemmingen in België, Nederland, Frankrijk en Duitsland. Het levert
vermakelijke verhalen op zoals het Michael Jackson-beeld in Best, de Elvis van
Poperinge, het Centrum van de Ronde van Vlaardingen, het Computermuseum in Aken
en de Nürburgring.

Vaak, zoals in onderstaand fragment, leiden de kook-experimenten tijdens die
ritten tot smakelijke maaltijden.
'Het ruikt hier naar frituur.'
'Dat zijn de Vlaamse Ardennen die je ruikt', riposteert Bob.
Een kwartier later, op weg naar het Geutelingenmuseum van Elst.
'Het riekt hier nog altijd naar frituur.' Als door een wesp gestoken draaien de
weinig fraaie hoofden van de broeders zich naar elkaar toe.
'De kip!'. Gillende remmen. Noodstop.

Soms ook, gaat het mis, zoals bij het bereiden van een croque- monsieur: 'De
aluminium envelop scheurde en de kaas liep de carburateur in'. De wegenwacht
werd gebeld maar die weigerde aanvankelijk te komen toen Olivier op de vraag
'wat denkt u dat eraan scheelt', meldde dat er waarschijnlijk kaas in de
carburateur was gelopen.

Vandaag gaat het beter. Olivier stopt de auto en opent de achterklep. Uit de
koelbox haalt hij een fles mousserende wijn, ambachtelijke mosterd, olie en wat
dille. Behendig maakt hij met wat wijn en de overige ingrediënten een sausje
dat hij vervolgens over de inmiddels halfwarme, net gare, zalm drapeert. De
rest van de fles, wordt ingeschonken. 'Proost!', zegt hij en we toasten op een
bij voorbaat geslaagde lunch.

What, shock horror, me ask that? Well, sure. After all the piccaninnies that live in this fair city that must have voted for him, has he done a good job for London. Well, let us start the good...

Firing Sir Ian Blair: This is a particularly good move. I know that Boris is just wielding his political stick, but thankfully it is in the right direction. Who he wants in the top spot however will be an interesting choice. Will it be someone who serves Londoners or someone who serves government?

Getting Rid of the Bendy Bus: Mostly good. Other than routes 507 and 521 which really need the bendies, it would be great to see them off the streets of London. I just hope they actually increase the frequency of those routes that will be double decked.

Cycling: Cheaper than putting in a new tube lines, expanding roads or reusing bendy buses. Thankfully a cycle happy mayor means that we are more likely to see better facilities for us guys on two wheels.

Keeping the Cost of the Olympics Down: It probably won't happen, but it is nice to hear some rhetoric about keeping the budget for 2012 under control, now that we are in a recession...

Increasing the wage for the lowest Paid Workers: Yeah, I was shocked by this, but he did do it!

Increasing suburban express bus services: Another transport topic, but particularly good for us South Londoners, the X26 is being doubled in frequency. Woop-woop!

---

And some of the bad...

Rescinding the Kengestion Charge: Although this is 'under consultation', this is definitely a shoe-in. A bad move.

Allowing the Elderly Freedom Pass to be 24/7: I may be treading in hot water with this one, but this is a big mistake. Expect rush hour journeys to be much slower as driver's cater for the needs of OAP's. Also expect your journey to get much more crowded...a populist move that is ill thought out.

Reintroducing the Routemaster: The big reason why that beloved icon of London was disposed is that TFL did not want to see the headline, 'Conductor Stabbed for £2 fare' splashed all over the Evening Standard. Such is the sorry state of London today. It wss nothing to do with the DDA or the fact that the Routemasters were too small. It is simply the reality that is inadequate policing and sh**ty kids. And the 'competition' to design a new bus is a complete waste of money.

---

Well, on balance, Boris seems to be doing a good job so far. Scoring political kudos for dumping Ian Blair like a bad date put a huge grin on my face, something I never expected Boris to do. He is playing to the populist wind however, and that seems to be his biggest problems to date.

Compared to Ken's first years, he is not as revolutionary nor are his ideas as bold, but compared to Ken's latter years, Boris is a breath of fresh air...

Nope, he left, because Boris and he had a tiff

Now, there has been howls in the press and blogs about how Uncle B's actions were unlawful and how he stepped over his mark. Sod that, as taxpayers, Londoners should have the right to choose who is going to shoot us point blank in the head. After all, we are the primary tax payers for this farce, sorry, force. The howling by the press, methinks, is a little too loud. Boris (and you can quote me on this), did the right thing by removing his support for Blair. Who he is going to 'support' as the next commissioner will be interesting.

(Incidentally, there are more police officers in London then there are bus drivers, but you never see a copper unless it is a speed trap on a sunny weekend morning. Could also explain why there is never a bus when you need one.)

On paper Sir Ian Blair looked like a good choice for commissioner. He seemed dedicated to eradicating racism from the MET (something very necessary after Stephen Lawrence), and unlike many of the coppers in the past, seemed to have a more compassionate approach to plodding. But ultimately, he is a police officer and any hopes of a sea change in the MET was brutally shot down in Stockwell tube station. The fact that under his watch he allowed police officers to shoot first and ask questions later, was simply an order only fit for the very best countries of the world such as Iran, Sri Lanka and Sudan. The unwavering support of Livingstone was disgusting and was the reason why I am glad he was ousted from the mayoralty. You can see my angry arguments against the MET's justification for point blank fun HERE.

The bottom line is this. Sir Ian Blair did not police for London, he policed for Central Government. The Metropolitan Police Force is possibly the most hated institution in this city, commanding zero respect from many of the citizens of London. If a crime occurs, they take their time, but they are swarming like bees when their tea break calls. They are arrogant, drive like maniacs and in effect have a licence to kill us all. Personally, I have never had that much of a problem with the rank and file officers. If ever I have had to use them, they do what they have to do, with the enthusiasm of a child tackling his/her greens. I know their job is abusive and they are basically there to mop up the s**t of this city, but that is what they signed up to. Essentially, police officers are far too keen to exercise their power rather than actually police the streets. Oh, by the way, the PCSO's while completely useless, are great fun!

How effective and more reassuring would it be to see police officers walk and cycle through neighbourhoods instead of speed around in cars with tinted windscreens? How much more good would it be if there were easy access to police officers, to talk to them and so they could actually interact with the community rather than have swarms of boys off to have some fun in a pig wagon. And wouldn't it be nice if they actually obeyed the law they are here to enforce? Example, no skipping traffic lights or parking in marked bays instead of hoofing their cars on the pavement in order to get some fried chicken.

Unfortunately, the MET police commissioner is not there to serve London (although that is his job) but to look good on the TV when a bomb blows up or when another raid on a mosque occurs. Terrorism would be better prevented by a bottom up approach, by involving people of all backgrounds in the wider community. Of course, this is more of a pipe dream than me becoming a film maker. So with our current sledgehammer to nut method of policing, our next commissioner will continue along the same lines and the circle of degeneration within the MET will increase.

Policing ultimately requires the consensus of the people who are being policed. The image of the MET today is one of a bunch of unruly thugs on good pay, unable to be sacked for incompetence and looking forward to a generous handout when they retire. The people of London do not feel protected by this now gun-toting, free wheeling bunch of hooligans who can protect Whitehall with pinpoint accuracy but let innocent Londoners get stabbed on the suburbs' streets. The MET police does not have the consent of the people they are there to protect. It is up to the police force to gain that consent, to gain that trust. It will take someone visionary to really make the MET a respected part of London again. About as likely as a decent tube service.

If only Boris would eat the ants after observing them, he would solve my problem of ants.

20 September 2008

Further proof I have the cutest dog in the world.

I’ll leave the discussions of the merits or otherwise of Sir Ian Blair’s tenure to others. A positive and powerful precedent has been set, and a clear example of real devolution has emerged.

Anyone who has ever been below the Brooklyn Bridge on the Manhattan side has at least passed through the South Street Seaport.  Though it used to be a highly active center of harbor happenings, and also served as the backdrop to one of my favorite scenes from Annie Hall, nowadays, besides the awesome South Street Seaport Museum and a few inspiring tall ships, the Seaport exists mainly, as a nifty looking mall.

As I approached the Seaport for the first time, I was greeted by the dozens of kids on leashes and at least fifteen fanny pack and/or khaki parades, streaming through this once essential New York port, on their way to stuff their faces (as they probably would at home) with eats from Uno’s Chicago Grill, and Haggen Dazs Ice Cream.

When embarking as a tourist, one must be ready for surprises and to an unsuspecting soul, the fifth year anniversary party thrown by super amazing East Village Radio must have come as quite a shock.  In the past five years that EVR has been broadcasting for free via the internet, it has come to represent something essential to the idea and ideals of not only New York City, but of communitarian urban life everywhere.  In a time of mass gentrification not only here in this city, but everywhere, they have managed to not only survive but thrive, broadcasting 24 hours a day from a tiny storefront on Manhattan’s First Avenue. EVR represents all that can and should be right with radio today and the diversity of the line up at the Seaport show serves as a perfect example of what the station has to offer. You won’t find this stuff playing on a Clear Channel station folks.

Though i could write for at least a Blog’s length about any of the bands that played the Seaport, I will spend this time briefly gushing about my two favorites, not very surprisingly the two bands i came to see;
High Places and Boris.

High Places hail from Brooklyn, New York (as more and more bands I’m digging seem to nowadays) and this was my third time seeing them. The band’s sounds are full of lovely contradictions. The music that they write feels like summertime, but not in a loud, beach party sort of way as on the albums by The Ruby Suns and El Guincho that dropped earlier this year.  High Places music is more like a summer you have likely had or are having. Summer to me has always seemed distant, even while I’m in the middle of it. Only as I reach its conclusion do I realize how much has really happened. The music that High Places makes, seems to take hold of this feeling and shape it as their own. As Rob Barber tends childlike, tempest storms of burping and jingling percussion and Mary Pearson sings in her sweet and distanced little voice, you find yourself caught somewhere between a tapping of your feet and an actual swaying of your body. Hooks come and go with the tide and these little re-verb laden songs  leave their lines in the sand. As with the other two shows of theirs I’ve been to, only as High Places announced their last song did I realize how long I had been smiling.

The Duo release their first full length album on the 23rd of September and from what i have heard of it, we are in for a treat, however, a compilation of their singles has been available for a while and should be picked up at once to tie you over for the next week or so. I also recommend checking out their BLOGSPOT, since it’s updated often and gives you lots of insight to cool things that you may want to know about Rob Barber, Mary Pearson and the pretty sounds they make together.

Here is some of those sounds for you. Sample and cherish:
High Places-Shared Islands

High Places-From Stardust to Sentience

High Places/Hawnay Troof Remix-Head Spinz

Thank God for Boris. Hearing this band play live makes my bones vibrate in exactly the right way. Hailing from Japan and just getting ready to set out on tour with Nine Inch Nails, Boris’ music is hard to pin down. Their styles swing often violently from mood to mood, stopping to play around with sounds of metal, drone, shoegaze, punk, and very loud psychedelic rock. Their newest album, Smile ( like the Brian Wilson Album in name only ) dropped a few short months ago and effortlessly shows off a great deal of the diversity that Boris is constantly expanding upon. The men in the band; ridiculously awesome  drummer Atsuo and no less awesome bass guitar/lead vocalist Takeshi bring a raw energy to the stage that is a force to be reckoned with, but it’s electric guitarist Wata (the only female in the band) who keeps things from falling into the abyss. When the band took things down about 10 notches in the middle of their set to play “Rainbow,” the only song that Wata sings lead vocals on, you could feel the crowd and all of the Uno’s Pizza customers take their first breath in about thirty minutes.  Even if loud music isn’t your thing, this is the kind of song that makes you stop and ask someone about who’s playing.  “Rainbow” is sort of an extended hand from the band to the audience, a simplified introduction like a puzzle piece revealed, or at least it seems this way until the guitar solo from Takeshi comes screaming out its shoegazy, film noirish surroundings, reminding you once again of what you’re listening to. The song served as the eye of the storm, only giving us a brief chance to catch up with ourselves before quickly being swept away again by gong banging and writhing guitars.  Here is a video of the song from a Knitting Factory show a bit earlier this year that I couldn’t get into.

Some Boris tracks that were short enough to upload:

Boris-Furi

Boris-Electric

Boris-Pseudo Bread

Originally scheduled for the day before the festival ended up going down, but postponed by extremely heavy rains, it is amazing that things went off as smoothly as they did for EVR.  With a great increase of historical areas like The Seaport becoming malls of their former selves, it is good to see that this one at least still has the taste and good intentions to bring an event like the East Village Radio station’s to their confines.  Somewhere in the middle of the Boris set however, I glanced up to the outdoor dining patio of Uno’s Pizza and tried to imagine for a moment, what must have been running through the heads of all their customers. It is hard for me to think about going out to dine among chain restaurants and stores period, but it’s even harder to imagine someone who enjoys doing just that, being confronted with some of the loudest and least compromising music being played today.  It’s nice that EVR still has the balls to shake things up in a city that seems to be settling more and more often for the mass produced and the mundane but ultimately the following day things will return to normal at The Seaport. More leashes on children, more deep dish pizza eaten with adult contemporary playing in the background, and only those marvelous tall ships to add any diversity or uniqueness to the landscape.

Bonus: Because I'm nice here is an mp3 of "Rainbow" as well.  You're welcome.

Boris-Rainbow

P.s. If you put this song on while trying to get into someones pants and they don't let you, chances are you should look for lovin' elsewhere.

Live at the Factory Theatre, Enmore, Sydney, Australia.

De repente Boris percebeu uma pólvora, uma pólvora verde que estava em sua roupa e parecia sair da sua sacola de estudos. Este examinou o material e o guardou para examiná-lo na sua aula de ciência que vinha em seguida desta aborrecida matéria. O resto do produto ele o assoprou respandindo aquele pó em toda sala.

Ao inspirar o produto seu tutor começou as contorcer de dor pressionando fortemente as mãos contra cabeça e gemendo como um cão. Boris se aproximou do homem agonizante, mas em pouco tempo este parou de se mexer e a vida o deixou.
Intrigado com a morte do velho Boris levou o corpo a sua aula de ciências que ficava no necrotério do hospital. Esta aula era mais inspiradora as memórias de sangue da guerra o ódio tudo ficava mais fresco e fazia mais sentido para o brutamonte que era Boris.

Abriram o corpo do tutor, não encontraram nada. Ao abrirem a cabeça mais pólvora verde se expandiu no ar nem Boris nem o médico tiveram problemas com a substancia mas um jovem garoto que prestava a suas ultimas homenagens a sua vó começou a gemer de dor seus olhos ardiam.

Pouco a pouco os choros do garoto mudaram da dor para o medo. O menino de olhos fechados se encolheu num canto do necrotério e ficou lá. Suas calças estavam encharcadas de urina e seus pais não sabiam o que fazer. O médico ao se aproximar para examinar a pobre criatura percebeu que a cada passada em direção a criança ela se encolhia mais como se tivesse medo dele. Ao chegar perto do garoto este convulsionou até a morte. O médico levantou e começou a raciocinar sobre o caso. Perguntou a Boris quando o homem morreu de fato de onde vinha a bolsa e o que poderia ser este pó. Chegou à conclusão que o pó não afetava os homens da guerra como ele e o seu aluno.

It has taken a whole year - but London mayor Boris Johnson has finally got his own back on Arnold Schwarzenegger.

As he was waiting to address last year's Tory conference via video link, the California Governor seemed highly amused by Mr Johnson's speaking style.

In a a clip which became a hit on YouTube, he can be heard whispering to aides about Mr Johnson "fumbling".

But now the London mayor has had the last the laugh, describing "Arnie" as a "monosyllabic Austrian cyborg".

BBC NEWS | Politics | Boris terminates 'cyborg' Arnie.

The perfect way to start a Monday morning. I do, however, think it's a little early to claim that Boris has had the last laugh. There's no telling what the monosyllabic Austrian cyborg might do next.

Not to worry, though, I'm sure Boris will be more than a match... as long as it doesn't get physical...

© 2008 Gary William Murning

Sie wissen sehr gut: Makedonien wird als ihr eigenes von den Bulgaren, den Serben, den Griechen betrachtet. Dafür Bulgarien, Serbien, Griechenland, Montenegro scharfen ihre Zähne. Sie alle sagen: Es ist meins. Ist das nicht der beste Beweis dafür, dass es - niemandes ist?  Makedonien sollte sich selbst gehören, und schließlich wenn wir es befreien, werden wir es nicht für die Nachbarn befreien sondern für sich selbst...

Das Interview mit Boris Sarafov, 1902 in Sofia, das von Alexander Valentinovich Amfiteatrov interviewt ist, setzte in seinem Buch Земја на раздорот [Land der Dissonanz (Separation)], Skopje fest: Makedonska kniga, 1990

hable con mi amigo Boris!! Boris?? kien es Boris?? pues es mi amigo Español!!! yo lo amo... me diverti tanto con el alla cuando viví en España.... jaja y viajamos a Barcelona y bebiamos.. e ibamos al antro Pk2 y me decia bailaaa y yo mmm no bailooo jajaja (esk ahi solo ponian reggeaton... asko) y luego yo tenia mucho sueño y me iba a despertar a la pieza jajaj como le decian

los argentinos.. al cuarto... vaya la habitacion!! y luego Bosris me decia k no me fuera de alla... y el siempre siempre me hacia reir jaaj y derrepente enojar... y yo le gritaba Asturiaaassss..... pork el es de Asturias jajajaj y luego me abrazaba y me decia: no te enfades... y luego yo: jajaja me reia tanto tanto.....

El ahora ya no esta en San Sebatian.. ahora esta en Tenerife... y sigue en el restaurante de Martin Berasategui y ahora k hable con el me topo con  k ya es jefe de partida de carnes!! woooo!!! y me emocione mucho... y muero por ir a visitarlo a el y a Miguel

Boris Fernandez te kiero...

Stephanie (Spencer's sis that NO ONE trusts but has somehow become LC's best friend) is asked out on a date by LC's ex Doug. Now I'm not a brain surgeon here but any person in their right mind that's already trying to prove themself to be trustworthy wouldn't knowingly go out on a date with their best friends ex- anything. Good job MTV for inciting drama though because I was getting a little bored with the best friend fights and such. How many best friends does LC have anyway?

Anyhoo this genius that can't distinguish between a hamster and guinea pig, goes out on a date with Doug. I forgot to mention the Doug has become fast friends with Brody and Brody was one of the main people saying Steph was shady and couldn't be trusted. Confusing, yes but it will all make sense.

So Doug and Steph are at dinner talking about how they DID NOT tell Brody of their date and guess who pops up.....BRODY'S MOM! [I'm making the sarcastic BBM face :-S] Even better, Brody's Mom says, "Hey what are you guys doing here? You're not on a date are you?" Really? Out of ALL the restaurants in the "Hills" Brody's mom chooses the same one as Doug and Steph. BOO Hills! We've been playing this game where I pretend that you're a real reality show but you're making it hard for me to believe you!

Now on to Diddy!

Diddy wakes up the eager beavers and tells them, "Multiply my money!" They're supposed to be working individually but then they have to pair up and figure out how to make $500 multiply. There are 3 teams, our good friend Poprah and Suzanne, Kendra and Mike and Boris and Stephanie. Now let's start with the biscuits, Boris and Stephanie. They have no real plan, just some lotion. I think they would have made more money giving out handjobs! These geniuses decide to "hustle" by asking a businessman if he needs help. He says yes he actually needs transcription services done. He tells them this job will take 4 hours and I will pay $75 per CD ($150). They say yes because they think, oh this won't really take that long. Mid -way in they quit of course and go back to the lotion and massages. Boris doesn't really do anything. He acts more like Stephanie's pimp.

Next group Mike and Kendra. They have a better idea; sell useless junk for cheap. Why they decided Union Square I don't know. I think if they they took that stuff up to 125th they might have had better luck. Even 42nd would have been better cause tourists buy lots of useless crap. Perhaps they were restricted in terms of location. I don't remember. They look as if they're selling however everything is $1 so they aren't really making that much.

Now on to Poprah and Suzanne. Suzanne is a biscuit. I'm an ivy-league grad and she is living proof that HARVARD TEACHES YOU NOTHING! The next time someone tells me Harvard is better than Cornell I'm going to bring up Suzanne and that America's Next Top Model girl who didn't know anything about any of the literary references Tyra mentioned while she claimed to be an English and American Literature major.   She couldn't even name a favorite.  Anyway back to Diddy. Poprah had a dumb idea that was just dumb enough to work. Guess her age! The idea was so simple that people on the street were willing to pay $5 to guess her age in hopes of winning a mystery prize. (True testament that we are dumb enough to take a gamble on a prize that might be worth less than what we initially put down).

As you probably know by now Poprah's little game won. (She's 40 btw). They made close to $500 dollars. That means they duped almost 100 people into guessing Kim's age. WOW

In the end it was Kendra against Boris. Boris of course says something about Kendra having a plot to kill someone. Really Boris, that's the best you can do. If you're going to lie, let's make it believable. The judges finally had enough. They eliminated both of them. For that I must give Diddy KUDOS!

Last week, Steph almost got the boot (and would have if Capricorn had her way) because she couldn't make a decent Ciroc and Lemonade. At least that's what it amounted to in my opinion. Red bounced since his so-called club promotion experience left the team with a big fat L.

This week, it was All About The Benjamins: The Money Hustle. I love the way the show started with Diddy appearing in the middle of the night to wake up the wannabes. Dude is sitting over Mike, eating Doritos. Then he wakes up Kendra and says, "I wish I could sleep" (chomp chomp chomp). BWAHHAHAHA. It kind of reminded me of the Burger King King when he's in the bed with folks.

To see who is really going to be able to make money and hustle, Diddy breaks up the teams and puts everyone out there on their own. (Aside: Does your personal assistant really have to be able to make money for you? End Aside) Well, sort of alone. Each person will be judged alone, but they have to do work in pairs. $500 goes to each team to get busy.

Kendra and Mike: Buy white tees, batteries and water. Basic hustleman stuff. I know I've bought water off the street.
Suzanne and Poprah/Kim: Carnival acts - Guess Poprah's age!
Boris and Stefanie: Sell Sex! Make Stefanie give out massages. Way to move the movement for women!

I think it's important to be a hustler. Hustler has two different definitions, though. There's a negative definition for a hustler. Means you're trying to hustle somebody out of something. My definition of a hustler means i want to hustle harder. I want to work harder. I want to strive harder to get to a certain goal.
- The Tao of Diddy™

Oops #1, Boris and Stefanie notice that their money is missing. At almost the same time, Mike and Kendra realize that they mistakenly took the money. Boris ain't hearing that though... he believes they took it on purpose. DRAMA!

Oops #2, the police roll up on Mike & Kendra. Guess they didn't know that being an Unlicensed General Vendor can get you arrested in New York City.

Oops #3, Boris and Stefanie agree to transcribe two DVDs for $75 which they're told will take 4 hours, but they figure they can do it in one. They found that it really does take 4 hours. FAIL.

WHY oh WHY does Poprah insist on rapping as a "hint" so people can guess her age? Is it to throw them off? If she raps about being from the A, will they assume she's young? Apparently it's working, though, because only one person guessed correctly, FORTY! Truth: She does look younger than that. Another Truth: I think it's because when you're plump, you're less likely to show wrinkles. Isn't that the science behind Botox?

Nah, let me back off. Cuz once again, after Poprah's antics and craziness, she proves to be on top. She and Suzanne beat out everybody and beat 'em badly. Team Guess My Age made over $400 compared to Mike & Kendra's $27.42 and Boris & Stef's $98.64.

Like I said in the beginning, each person was judged individually. This elimination saw Boris up against Kendra... again. Unlike last time they were on the block, when they both got saved, this day the axe fell on both of their necks. See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!

What started off as a slow start at Ravenscourt Park (one of the hubs leading you to The Mall where the official start line was) at 9am, we managed to arrive at The Mall around 10 having belted through back roads, main roads and Hyde Park. On arrival, we decided to take a pit stop and look around the Sky Sports Cycling Zones and Resting Area, where the highlight of that scene was the free Ocean Spray and packs of dried fruit. Unknowingly, my friend decided to stock up on the free goods and packed my backpack full with the help of a steward. Another highlight was to race the likes of Chris Hoy and other Olympic Gold medalists but I decided against embarrassing myself.

The route itself was short but sweet, traveling through tunnels and past London landmarks, and at points having the radio blasted down the road which made the route more entertaining. Not only this, we got a free bib too. A very enjoyable day which I no doubt will do again next year, but maybe as part of St. John's or as a marshall.

This page is completely dedicated to the Israeli Rolling scene, which is so small yet so cool. NST has been around for 10 years now and they always will. In this blog you'll get to see some of our local finest talents such as Avichai W., Eyal A., Anton and Tommy B, Yair V., Vassily and many more.

So here's a short One Footer picture post to show how awesome those guys are!

Well,  I know its not much yet, but I hope for great stuff in the future.

Much love.

P.S. All pics taken By Dima V. and Vas S.

-Boris

In Poperinge, de 'Hopmetropool van de Lage Landen', trekt op zondag 21 september de driejaarlijkse Hoppestoet door de straten. Een goede aanleiding voor een bezoek aan het kleine stadje in de Vlaamse Westhoek.

door Boris Peters

Even buiten het centum van Poperinge prijken ze hoog boven de mais uit; velden vol hopperanken die, geleid door ijzerdraad, tot zo'n zeven meter de hoogte in reiken. Door toedoen van het grotere buurstadje Ieper, werd het Poperingen in de 14e eeuw onmogelijk gemaakt zich nog langer met de lucratieve lakenhandel bezig te houden. De 'Poperingse 'Keikoppen' zochten daarop hun heil in de hopteelt.
Vanaf de Grote Markt is et een korte wandling naar het Hopmuseum. Het is ondergebracht in de oude 'Stadschaal' uit 1866, waar de hop vroeger gewogen en gedroogd werd. Het is mooi weer en het museumterras zit vol met bezoekers die genieten van een van de producten waarin hop onontbeerlijk is: bier. Binnen wacht conservator Herman Degryse. Hij vertelt hoe Ieper in 1364, na de nodige scherpmutselingen met Poperinge, van de Graaf van Vlaanderen het alleenrecht kreeg op de handel in populaire lakentypes. Poperinge verloor hierdoor de belangrijkste inkomstenbron. “Gelukkig hadden de Poperingenaren van de monniken van de Sint-Bertinus-abdij in het Franse Saint-Omer al het een en ander opgestoken over de hopteelt”, zegt Degryse. Grond, klimaat en het doorzettingsvermogen van de Poperingenaren, die de bijnaam Keikoppen dragen, zorgde ervoor dat Poperinge zich al snel ontwikkelde tot het centrum van de Hopteelt in Vlaanderen. Met zo'n 180 hectare hopvelden, verdeeld over 34 telers, is het ook nu nog de 'Hopmetropool van de Lage landen'.
Het woord metropool moet overigens niet te letterlijk genomen worden. Poperinge oogt als een vriendelijk Vlaams stadje waar opvallend veel Engelsen rondlopen. Zij komen voor het Talbot House, een soldatenclub waar in WOI Engelse soldaten, die rond het nabijgelegen Ieper in de loopgraven vochten, wat konden bijkomen. Soms wilden ze vervolgens niet meer terug naar het front. Een gang langs de binnenplaats van het stadhuis leert wat hier de consequentie van kon zijn. Twee sobere, witgekalkte dodencellen zijn in hun oorspronkelijk staat teruggebracht. Hier wachtten deserteurs op hun executie. De executiepaal, omringd met briefjes van bezoekers, is de stille getuige van hun trieste lot. Zelfs de luidruchtigste bezoeker zie je hier heel stil worden.
Terug naar het, heel wat vrolijkere, Hopmuseum. Niet alleen leer je hier aan de hand van foto's, oude machines een audiogids alles over hop en de hopteelt, je kunt er de hop ook voelen en ruiken.
Hoppe wordt gewonnen uit hopbellen die in september geoogst worden. Hommel, zoals het in het Poperingse dialect heet, zorgt dat bier beter bewaart en houdt het schuim stevig.  Zo'n 95 procent van de hop gaat naar bierbrouwers. De rest wordt gebruikt voor onder meer shampoo, cosmetica en -althans in Poperinge-  zelfs in brood en paté verwerkt.
Hoppefeesten
Tot halverwege de vijftiger jaren werden de hopbellen met de hand geplukt. Daarvoor moesten in de oogsttijd tot zo'n 10.000 plukkers van elders aangetrokken worden. De intocht, het verblijf en het feest met hommelpap bij het einde van de hoppluk zorgden altijd voor veel ambiance. Met de introductie van de eerste plukmachines in 1956, dreigde deze folklore verloren te gaan. Het stadbestuur besloot daarom om een Hoppefeest te organiseren met als hoogtepunt een Hoppestoet.
De Hoppefeesten en de Internationale Hoppestoet, vinden eens in de drie jaar plaats en zijn hét topevenement van Poperinge. In de weken voor de stoet hangen er in het centrum al her en der posters waarop de kandidates voor de titel van Hopkoningin zichzelf aanprijzen. Die verkiezing vindt op zaterdag plaats op de  Grote Markt.
Dé grote dag is echter zondag 21 september. Om drie uur start de Hopstoet met meer dan 1300 figuranten en tientallen wagens, aan de tocht door de binnenstad. In het museum is op een video het hele jaar door te zien hoe het er bij de hoppestoet aan toe gaat. In de eerste jaren zien we soms nog een tractor maar de tegenwoordig wordt alles voortgedreven door mankracht of paarden. Daarnaast hobbelt er een ezel mee. Op die ezel zit Meester Ghybe, een parodie op de Graaf van Vlaanderen, die Poperinge de lakenhandel ontnam. Hij slaat op een grote kei, het symbool voor de keikoppen of Poperingenaren. Schoolkinderen verkleed als lieveheersbeestjes, een kwaadaardige Hopduivel, het plukkerskoppel Maai en Stjeppen, het is slechts een greep uit de figuren die de driejaarlijkse stoet bevolken. Voor wie tegen het eindevan de stoet, wanneer het brouwproces wordt uitgebeeld, dorst krijgt, is een Poperings Hommelbier misschien een suggestie.
I
Hoppestoet: Zondag 21 september, 15.00 uur
Toegang 5 euro (vvk) of 7 euro te plaatse. Kinderen < 1 meter gratis,
Tribuneplaatsen 10 euro. Dagtickets inclusief lunch, bier, tribuneplaats en het Hoppemusem: 50 euro.
Info en reserveringen: Toerisme Poperinge, Grote Markt 1 in Poperinge. Tel 0032 57346676.
www.hoppefeesten.be

Hopmuseum Poperinge, Gasthuisstraat 71. Open: 1 maart t/m 30 november. Dinsdag t/m vrijdag van 10 tot 18.00 uur. Zaterdag en zondag 14 tot 18.00 uur. Toegang 5 euro of 6 euro inclusief een streekbier, kinderen tot zes jaar gratis.
Tel 0032 57337992.
www.hopmuseum.be