Tuesday, October 1, 2013

As Long As You Brush Me

Every day, I wake up to gently place Justin Bieber in my mouth. I move him back and forth vigorously until a fine white lather encompasses my teeth and then I spit it all out, take a deep breath and think about what life has done with me. 

I mean, if I could afford the 6 pound toothbrushes at Superdrug I wouldn't have to buy the children's Bieber brush from 99P. For some reason soft toothbrushes can't be found except in pharmacies over here, like some sort of specialty item. People care about their teeth, man. The UK needs to take note. So anyway, I want a special toothbrush and so you could take it as a symbol, if you like, of me wanting a job. The day I get Bieber out of my mouth, the day I pull him from my lips and slam him upon the counter top and say "NO MORE!" is the day I've got things going the way I want them.

I could try to wax philosophical over my trials and tribulations, joys and victories over the past few weeks and months but instead I'd rather just make fun of duck boats catching on fire and stuff like that:

So here's a duck boat on fire :


When Marine and I take our walks along the Thames, we often point out the indigenous, amphibious landing craft that is the Duck Boat to each other with great smiles upon our faces. It is a sort of bird watching, you could say, and we just love spotting the world war 2 era duck boat and its wonderful yellow plumage.

The most interesting thing about the duck boat is that all of its passengers look either completely terrified or confused. In fact, the only time I think I've ever seen a duck boat full of people that looked reasonably happy was when they had not yet entered the water and were instead being driven safely across London Bridge. Even the post-bathing duck boats are full of what I would call more or less "victims" who look as if they've been pulled from a faulty rollercoaster. I've never been on one but I'm almost positive that there's a moment as the duck boat enters the water where the engine starts to chug and choke on sea water, emitting various diesel fumes, and the passengers exchange nervous glances suggesting something like "Did we bring enough ammunition" or "This is still operational, right?"

The answer is no; no it isn't, as the engine on the duck boat above appears to have received a mortar blast from the past. According to the Guardian, everyone on board had to bail, including a pregnant woman who suffered "some smoke inhalation". Oh dear. The UK seems to take on US traits by the day, let's hope lawsuits are not one of them or we won't have any more terrified duck boatees to point at on future romantic walks.

Funny thing, walks. London's huge but most of my walking is kept local. I keep trying to tell myself that all I have to do is get on a bus and I'll be in a whole new crazy area to check out, but some times the idea just feels so daunting. It's all those days spent back in America, I think. Spending all that time in towns where a car was necessary and people treated you like you were abnormal if you didn't want to drive. Now I'm in the perfect place but have the old world mentality. Only one way to fix that: head out on a god damn duck boat and post some incredibly fabricated CV's! And then bailing before we get anywhere near the Thames.