Pimp My... Pimp

My friend Anton and I were a bit bored this evening and decided to show the latest pimp fashion from the streets of... I really dunno. Some rather shabby streets, I would guess. Sadly, we had no ladies at hand, or we would have dressed them up, too.


As you can see from my forlorn and somewhat vulnerable look, the life of a pimp is certainly not easy.

Suit: Some sort of Chinese polyester zoot suit I found on eBay for $60
Shirt: Vivienne Westwood
Shoes: Rizzo


Here, Anton can be seen wearing a turban made from a scarf. You need not much to be pimpin' it up.


Suit: Versace Jeans Couture
Shirt: My design
Hat: Paul and Friends
Shoes: Shoto
Lamp: IKEA


Suit: Jan Björk
Shirt: Dunno (and that is not the name of a label)
Hat: As above, so below


Jacket sort of thing: Andrew MacKenzie
Shirt: J Lindeberg
Jeans: Richmond


Suit and shirt: My design and tailored by a nice guy in Thailand
Tie: Röda Sigillet


Snacky Cracky Butter Cheese Sticks: The worst bloody snack I have ever had the malpleasure of tasting

Really. I bought these at Lidl, which is like a foodstore except most of the stuff is crap. You would think that the name Snacky Cracky would be an indication that this was indeed the case with these... sticks. Still, they were sort of funny, and I am not one to balk when an interesting challenge presents itself. This was a mistake, because they taste like dry fat, turning into moist crumbs of wickedness in the mouth. Snappy Crappy have no place in this world.

Ugly (Yet Delicious!) Food

I make my own food most of the time, generally because the pre-made solutions, save for those from unreasonably expensive restaurants, are way too often icky. However, while I am extremely picky with the aesthetics of other things, like my clothes, my apartment, my friends... I care not at all about how the food looks, as long as it tastes good and does not contain nasty shit.

This is just a close-up of my brie, penne rigate, soy sausage and dark bread dish. I never knew brie looked so revolting! Well, it is mold, so it should not exactly be surprising.

I have never felt more American than when I made this last week. It is a garlic baguette. Covered in mozarella cheese! Mmm... It took its toll, though, after eating it I almost felt like puking from all the fat.

This was supposed to be a chocolate cake. Unluckily, we improvised a little regarding the recipe, so it turned out to become the largest chocolate donut I have ever eaten, and it looked like a turd. Good going!

This was great! Mashed potatoes with some cheese and pepper mixed in, together with chanterelles, carrots and soy sausages. The stuff in the picture is the leftovers, it looked better at dinner.

A friend, a flower, a wild strawberry

Hey, I am all grown up, bitter and artsy. Since I have a camera, everything must now be in black and white. Also, I am honestly trying to learn to like jazz of the Bix Beiderbecke kind, but it is not going too well. I always switch to VNV Nation or Einstürzende Neubauten after five minutes.

I found a friend, a flower, a wild strawberry (which was not so wild since it grew on a balcony, so I would call it a tame strawberry, but then I would have a hard time conveying the fact that it is one of those small strawberries, Fragaria vesca, which we Swedes call smultron), a sunglasses-wearing child in a church holding a fish in front of the altar (oh, the symbolism) and a big clay butt next to flowers.







I also found I could fry some Quorn in lots of Kikkoman soy and white rice vinegar, add various vegetables and then throw in a bunch of udon noodles. Needless to say, this is a damn tasty dish which I fear I may get tired of very soon if I continue to make it all the time.

I also finished reading Dance Dance Dance which I felt was strangely familiar at times, I cannot really place it, but it was very much like some other book I read a long time ago. It also bore a passing resemblance to Lolita, which is not a bad thing. All in all I liked Kafka on the Shore a bit better, though. Of course, I have already started on my next Murakami book - The Wind-up Bird Chronicle - which hitherto is decidly better than both of the above. That might change though. The ending is so often the crucial part. The funny thing is that The Wind-up Bird Chronicle is certainly feeling eerily pertinent right now.

Cardboard Box Coffee

Being at work, one of the things I like the most is the industial foodstuff they provide us, free of charge. Today, I found a bucket (!) of almond cookies, which tasted as stale as cookies in buckets can be expected to. I also drank stale cardboard-ish coffee, procured from the machine that one of my co-workers shuns. My life started long after the second world war ended, and surrogate coffee disappeared into the mists of time, but I think this is not far from the taste. And still, I rather prefer it (in small doses) to my go fasta red Nespresso machine at home. It is not like I do not appreciate good food or good coffee, but I really somehow like the cheapo stuff here. Whereas some people are drawn to the aesthetics of fascism, I am drawn to the foodstuffs of communism.

Well, not really.

This weekend will bear with it a damn lot of work for me. In addition to studying for two of my three last exams, I will also be spending time on cutting and producing a movie for the benefit of kids in India. Basically, what I do is make films about various charities in India which will make the moneyfolks in Europe open up their wallets to give these kids a proper education.

I think it is quite a worthwhile way to spend my free time. It can cost as little as something like $10 to teach a kid in the slums of Delhi or Mumbai to read and write. Now, that is what I call value for money!

Speaking of cardboard, try to find the song Cardboard Box City by Levellers (or let the magic of the 'net provide you with a copy), for it is damn good.