Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Hot! Hot! Heat!

The last couple of days have been absolutely scorching. 38 degrees centigrade and more... Well, I never had such a rush of hot and cold fever as I had just now. I was being interviewed by this lady from a headhunters agency. Well, she can give me head any day of the week. Hallelujah! She tied me to her kitchen chair, she broke my throne and cut my hair. And from my lips she drew the Hallelujah! Imagine the body of Angelina Jolie, the face of Femke Janssen, the eyes of Alyssa Milano... (I'm not even gonna go into the really important body-parts... Unfortunately).

-"Ideal occupation?"
-"Befathering your children."
-"Ambition?"
-"Make you lose that skirt within 15 seconds."
-"What do you want to make?"
-"The animal with two backs."

Not to sure if I got the job, but who cares. I saw God's creation in all her beauty and she even gave me her phone number. Hallelujah!

PS Actually, she gave the same business card to the loser who left the office just before me, and I'm sure he blogged a similar post on majorloser.blogspot.com...

Posted by Bietje at Wednesday, June 22, 2005 | | Comments

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Eire sick?

Is that a word? Who cares! I just made it one. Whilst roasting in Flanders by 38 centigrade, I'm thinking of the cool breeze blowing through my hair on the top of Killiney Hill (obviously some time ago...). The cemetery of Glendalough, the High Cross of Monasterboice, Connemara,...Still not to sure if this xenofobe piece of turf stuck between France and the Low Countries is any better than the Celtic plains... You Danny Boys are surely a though lot to get over (and don't get me started on the lasses...)

Your skin is cold
But the sun shines within your hold
Your hair is gold
But you see through a goldfish bowl
I feel old, sick, and tired
We walk the streets
Gently staring, wondering what to do
The sun in sheets
Pouring down those streets to eyes green and blue
And a ship with eight sails could come round the bend
Or a heard of bulls charging stop lights red
I'd be blind
You broke my heart, Danny boy
Not your fault, Danny boy
I was had at the doorstep
Played, like a two to a four-set
Had, like poor Job in the bible by god
Day comes, I wake
I wake with a hard heartache
I go down to your place
We sit and chat about New York
And trips to the Bayou
My smile, a trick
Tricking me and trying not to scare you
And a ship with eight sails could come round the bend
Or a heard of bulls charging stop lights red
I'd be blind
You broke my heart, Danny boy
Not your fault, Danny boy
I was had at the doorstep
Played, like a two to a four-set
Had, like poor Job in the bible by god

Posted by Bietje at Sunday, June 19, 2005 | | Comments

Depeche Mode are back
...and so is Bietje

It's been a while. Actually it's been nearly four years since the Mode have been touring the world. After those Irish wankers wreaked havoc all over the globe - whilst ending world hunger, saving the Israeli-Palestine peace process, securing Belgian social security and finding a cure for gravity- it's time for some serious sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. Arguably the best live band around, the Mode make a roar from Bono seem like a feeble cry for help. Dave would kick your behind any day of the week, Mr. Hewson.
Anyway, can't wait to find how good there latest work will be (hopefully it's a tad more exciting then their previous album...)
Mr. Gahan, Mr. Gore and Mr. Fletcher, please include the following on your playlist: Behind the Wheel, Lie to me, Black Celebration, Stripped, Barrel of a gun, Freelove, Something to do and Strangelove. Thanks guys...

Posted by Bietje at Sunday, June 19, 2005 | | Comments

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