Post Aggression
You could have knocked me over with a feather. The stupid 'judges' at MasterChef Goes Large chose Peter the 59 year old, upper-crusty snot who couldn't pull off a good sauce throughout the entire contest! I was traveling last week when the final decision was made. I have been too dumbfounded to mention anything since. Hottie Dean must have burned something or Girly Gujarati must have had another hissy fit. For the judges to pick Peter, something drastic must have happened. Move over Gordon Ramsay, there's a newcomer to your industry who is more pretentious than you. (If 3 of the top food critics in London feel Peter was pretentious, then don't argue - they know pretentious- they invented pretentious). Hey, Keith Floyd - get out that bottle of 1978 Montrachet hidden in your cave - a toast is in order - there's a new toffee-coated snob on the block. Heaven help us - Peter's head is likely to explode from all the adulation heaped upon him for winning MasterChef 2006 - nice job.Last night, while I was walking Bunny Dog before bed, my hideous neighbor came out with her new puppy. She was with a friend and of course, screaming at her precious puppy at top volume, yanking on his lead viciously and kicking him every once in a while. This woman - this creature - regularly has violent freak-outs, screams and yells and throws things at her partner. They live in the maison arrier behind the building next to mine and this means we share a wall. It is not unusual for her to be screaming at 4 am in their garden. I have no idea why the people in her building put up with it. I guess no one wants to get involved. Sadly. However, when the dog is abused, that's where I get involved. Bunny Dog and I passed this freak imp last night and I asked her - very politely not to hit, yell at or treat the dog badly. Well, after a good 2 minutes of horrendous verbal abuse and violet flailing arms and legs, she ended up landing a couple jabs on my chin. She had mittens on - so it didn't hurt, but unleashed she could do some damage. As suspected - she was on something pretty strong - her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated to the point where you couldn't actually tell what colour her eyes were.
I calmly walked home and called the police. Yeah. I could have walked on by and not said anything but you know, I will get rid of that putrid pile of human waste if I do nothing else. The police went over there and gave her a warning or something - which unleashed a barrage of violent verbal abuse - she must have sat in her closet to make sure I could hear through the wall. Her partner was trying in vain to calm her down. The police waited and listened and made a note of the verbal barrage. So I guess I've made an enemy of an unstable drug addict who lives next to me - safe hey? The next time she makes serious noise, I will call the police again. I will call the landlord today to make a formal complaint and do everything I can to get this freak animal off my street and far away. I will call the police each and every time she screams and yells. I will get the local authorities to take away her puppy. Imagine that poor little puppy in a house like that. The best thing about Belgium is that they consider poor treatment of dogs paramount to murder. Should be that way everywhere.
The Commonwealth games. What a bunch of crap. Sorry guys, but come on. The Nations and territories of the Commonwealth - translation: British Colonies past and present come together for this 'feel good', 'pretend it's as important as the Olympics' spectacle. In a throwback to empirical grandeur, the Queen herself shows up to start the ceremony. It's in Melbourne Australia this time - and Australia's got a lot of medals - they always do in any sporting event. Australia spends a disproportionate amount of money and time developing sport in their educational system - noticeably more than education itself I might add. But it's medals that count and they are good at pretty much everything non-snow related. But look at the rest of the bunch. Come on - Scottish men's gymnastics team. Yes, I said the Scottish men's gymnastics team... Those guys look like a bunch of monkeys on caffeine. Hilarious watching the women's gymnastics - how many times can one fall off the balance beam and still medal? 3 times as it turns out. The quality of skill and expertise in the commonwealth games is no where in the league as the Olympics - so excuse me if I don't look for the Malaysian guy who won the 3-meter springboard diving event when the next summer Olympics happen. Of course, I am the consummate armchair sporting event commentator and couldn't even do a lap in an Olympic sized-pool in the time it takes any of these guppies to do 5 laps. But I can still critique can't I?
One last moan. Am I wrong to feel that we have a moral responsibility to give work to Iraqis when possible? I mean, if there's an Iraqi person who is qualified, willing and able to do something, shouldn't we be making it possible for that person to do the job and get paid for it? Am I wrong to think it's morally reprehensible that the US government (And others) send contractors to Iraq by the airbus-load - squandering millions of dollars on fat-arsed, pale-skinned civil engineers and communications experts who not only get 10 times what they are worth but also get 'danger pay'? As my friend Charles reminded me the other day - Winston Churchill said 'You can always count on Americans to do the right thing - after they've tried everything else'.
posted by Brussels Confidential @ 9:24 AM
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