So its another Zombie Messiah Holiday here on the lava-lump, which means I've got this grey Monday free of Ebola Monkeys and other such stuff. I had planned on being all kinds of productive this weekend, but now, sitting at the coffee table with a steaming cup of its name-sake, I have to admit that that plan went down in flames.
Like The Human Torch giving a blowjob.
So what did I do this weekend?
Well, Friday I watched a whole lot of Margaret Cho, and fell asleep on the couch, cradling the padded "axe" that I made for the kiddies' "Viking Club".
Woke up the next day, cleaned up a tad, went to the pool with the roomy, met some friends downtown (they were putting on Vórhátið for the disabled youth organization they all volunteer with) and then bought beer.
Thing about the buying beer downtown is that despite the liquor store being right next to one of the only utilized parks in all of Rvk, where people tend to gather on sunny days to sip brews in the sun and remove as much clothing as they feel they can get away with, there is no cold beer for sale. Mainly I suspect because the local cafes know that should the liquor store start chilling the beer before they sell it, no one's gonna bother buying their over-priced pints at the sidewalk tables.
Later on I took the padded axe and two similar swords along with the makings for a HUGE bowl of pico de gallo and the slightly warm beer and bussed out to Sælból (home of the Notorious K.Á.R.Í) for the first bbq of the summer. It went swimmingly. Beer and wine, chicken and fresh veg, Embla, Klaus, adorable little Askur, Ulli, and Kari's cuz Heiða with her boyfriend Gunnar made up the guest list.
We ate, drank, wore silly hats and were merry. Later on some of us drunkenly fenced while the rest laughed uproariously and videoed the whole thing. Then it was a very long game of Liar, up until one guest got bored, hid the dice, and started a typically drunken argument.
At which point I went downtown to dance, only to find the clubs closing (thanks a bundle Zombie Jesus!) which led me via a circular route to a house party with Addi. Where I sat and talked about politics and the remarkable breasts of one of hosts and DRANK until nearly 8am.
Needless to say Sunday didn't involve a lot of anything. Talked to my Ma, newly returned from the Seattle Folk Life Festival (which made me homesick as all hell), made enchiladas, and eventually got bored enough to make Ragnar rent videos for me (still blacklisted, me). Lady in the Water was awesome, the perfect blend of weird and poetic and all that. Silverhawk was just crap. Not even fun crap at that...
So now I've got to do about 8 loads of laundry, scrub the place down for the impending return of Urður, take the box of rapidly reproducing mice (long story) to the pet store, go pick up the padded weaponry from the West Side, see my client for the Social Services, and maybe, just maybe get to see The Reaping before it, and every other movie in Iceland, disappears to make way for Pirates of the Caribbean 3. Which will play on every single fucking screen in the entirety of Iceland for the next two months.
God I miss independent theatres...
1 comment:
Silverhawk is a phenomenon that no one should have to pay to experience. I rate it just below the world's most deadliest joke; it'll make you hahahandicapped.
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