concepts for a buntiful world
Friday, March 28
So, this time, I am baking because it is Sianodel's birthday this weekend, and one of my earliest memories of enjoying his hospitality is sitting eating blueberry muffins and drinking caffe latte, usually qhile also smoking a cigarette. Since neither of us smoke any more, and making coffee is not as exciting, I decided to make blueberry muffins.
I had to make them without muffin cases, as the shop was fresh out, but thankfully I was given a silicone muffin try for my birthday, so ahoy with the non-stick.
Due to my chronic inability to wait for the entire time the recipe says I should before taking things out of the oven, something which I must work on, they are a trifle moist on the bottoms, but hey, what's a muffin for if it isn't being moist?
So, I shall pick the best for Sianodel, and take the rest twerk.
Aah... a productive day. Now I can go play Xbox.
- posted by Buntifer @ 3/28/2008 12:10:00 pm
Thursday, March 13
The Night Before Opening - a poem by Wheezil McFlynn
Twas the night before opening, not a voice could be heard,
Stage management working, sleep being deferred,
The silence of tiredness, beaten and cowed,
No music or chat, only tools working loud.
The set has been changed, so it fits now at last,
Nails, screws and now battens are holding it fast,
The first set of flats has been tossed in the bin,
Measurements being skipped meant the set was too thin,
A third coat of paint has been left to dry out,
With a slight change of colour that removes any doubt
of it being, "a little too bland for the play."
A director's opinion on the next to last day.
The stage manager coughs, in the theatre echoes
From cast iron furniture and boxes of gekkos,
All fake, of course, rubber and painted plywood
That upon close inspection stops looking so good.
The technicians grumble, and tend to agree
Upon lack of respect for the stuff you can't see,
Of course visible props and the dressing of set,
Is the province of ASMs struggling to get,
The right dolls for the play, which must look like a poet,
Also period condoms and non-alcohol "Moet,"
The designer stressed and "It isn't my job!"
He's trying to find a cheap wig he can bob.
Now tempers are short and deadlines are passed,
And it's reaching the point when no-one can be arsed
There is only one remedy, tried tested and true,
"Down tools folks, fuck it - let's have a brew!"
- posted by Buntifer @ 3/13/2008 01:20:00 pm