Losing my religion

The pilgrimage has been called off, because my religion that took a life is dead for me and the demigods have fallen from grace.

From Russia with Love

Some notes to myself….

Day 0

I am not sure what I need to be more worried about when I get picked up by a designated chauffeur in Russia, the strong smell of vodka on his breath or the unbearable smell of gasoline floating inside the car that makes you think that 30 more seconds of inhaling those fumes you could immolate yourself. Then you are gruffly told that there is no need to wear seat belts, on your non compliance, the chauffeur will proceed to unhinge the seat belt (thinking that I can’t do it myself) and tie it to the back of the seat, from where it’s humanly impossible to reach for it again (unless of course you are an Indian god with 4 sets of arms).

Your spine feels like a wound up spring with all the tension from the 72 minute drive on wet roads with no ABS Brakes in a Volga GAZ 311005, all you want is to check in to the hotel and make it to the bar in 1 piece to get yourself a drink to take the edge off.

You are told your hotel room will cost 200$ for day 1 and the price will increase from Day 2 to 300 $ because of the high occupancy. I am too tired, too scared and too not bothered to question why high occupancy relates to high rates? Imagine the prospect of having to get out of the hotel again, flag down another cab and find another hotel. Quick check in, hand over passport and Credit Card for them to register you with the Local Police and max out your credit card.

Move to the bar -> Young man of 21 working at bar.. looks like his dog died this morning… Ask for beer, no acknowledgement, he has walked away from bar to the kitchen, comes out with new glass, why not stock glasses at the bar? Isn’t that what a bar is supposed to have – Alcohol and those little things to serve the alcohol in?. Barman still looks like he is grieving the death of his dog. His colleague appears a drop dead gorgeous blonde who stands 2 head lengths taller than him and me. She has got that look in her eye that she killed someone’s dog this morning.

Swig the beer down quickly to avoid being assassinated, work my way to restaurant with colleagues. Another hot blonde with assassin looks (no pun intended) offers to serve us. The concept of “service with a smile” has not reached this part of the world as yet. We ask for a table with a view of the city, a short and crisp response “NO”. We wait to be seated, while being seated a colleague mentions, “Before we order, could we get some water and bread?”, another short response, “Wait”!

We order 2 medium and 1 well done steak and plate of fresh Halibut, what we get is 2 burnt steaks which are the size of a medal and ready to crumble at the first prick of our forks, we also get 1 well done steak and fish fingers for the rest of the order. The dinner has cost us 200$. We decide to not order desserts, hop out of the hotel, walk across to the McDonalds and order ourselves a McFlurry.

Day 1

Long day today, early start at 6 in the a.m. The shower keeps going from hot to cold every 30 seconds, I decide to limit my shower time to 120 seconds, end on a high, when the water is still warm.

Visiting customers, it’s been one meeting after the other, snarling traffic, crashing cars a plenty, convoys of Black Mercedez being patrolled by huge Humvees on the roads. They are not politicians; they are just medium sized business owners. That’s Russia for you. It’s inching towards 14:00 and I am feeling hungry again. Gesture to my Russian colleague that we must eat something quick before I swallow my tongue, maybe some fast food will do as well. He assures me, we will eat soon, very soon, he is driving us straight to our food. He makes long call in Russian, sounds like he has just ordered to get some humans eliminated from this planet, with the definitive Russian “Da” which means yes.

20 Mins more of driving around crazy traffic, all I can see is Golden Arches around me, it’s a mirage!!! Suddenly colleague screeches to a halt in the middle of a busy intersection, orders us to leave car and walk across to the other side where we will find colleague 2. We sputter – “But, but, what about the food??”. He smiles – First smile I’ve seen since I landed, and drives off.

Our mothers are very heavily abused at in rough Russian. Don’t know if it was the fact that we couldn’t understand what the irate drivers shouted or the enormity of our hunger or the fear of being driven over, but we managed to stay focused and cross the street. Inside the car of colleague 2, we were hoping for Chicken Nuggets, Slices of Pizza, Quarter Pounders with Cheese, Milk Shakes and Cokes. What we got was dry bread, hot water with vegetables(also known as soup), dry piece of meat which would work very well as a shoe sole with cabbage leaves which were a few days older than my dog’s mother. The hunger pangs disappear in a jiffy.

Evening falls we settle for some local expertise to find a decent restaurant to have a square meal. This has gone off wonderfully well. Post dinner: The Russians are good at entertaining; they take us to the local hot spots. The women in Russia need to be given a lifetime achievement award for redefining the word “HOT”. If only they’d learn to smile once in a while.

Day 2 and Day 3 to follow soon…..

My latest talent

The things that you can learn and develop in yourself by just having people who communicate with you from different time zones is amazing.

The latest thing that I am exploiting my talents in, is the art text messaging in my sleep with one eye half shut and the 1/4 of a brain that I was gifted with at birth - completely shut off.

A few of my friends live in the far east which means they are 7-8-9 hours ahead of me, quite a bit of my family is about 4 hours ahead of me, none of these people pay any heed to timezones, they believe it's bright and shining where they are therefore it's the same everywhere

Message from Sister: "What is a good site to post my pics, so that everyone can see"
Snoring me: "Well you could use Picasa, or Flickr, but that requires people to have to sign in, what could be a good idea is that you start your own blog, this would make it a good interface"
Reply from Sister: "How do i do that"
Message back from me: "I'm trying to catch the next flight out to your city, just hang tight"

Message from Friend who lives way too far: "Dude, would you like to get introduced to a 30 year old hot girl in your city?"
My response: "Why not? but are you sure she's 30 and still a girl and hot?"

This one takes the cake though:

Message from Mom: "Which is the 1st team that India will play against in the Cricket World Cup"
Groggy me at 0430 AM after having returned from a party at 0330 AM "I think it's Bangladesh on the 17th, you never liked cricket, watched cricket, why the question?"
Reply from Mom: "Crossword ... Haha"
:-/ I am still in a state of Shock

I am getting there, trust me I am...

Take that quote off

As promised my 100% plagiarized post. I will keep adding on, as and when I remember memorable quotes. I want to post a similar one with lyrics and paragraphs from books too... but that requires a lot of effort, especially the books, where I need to read and type things out... anyway here goes

Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

Eddie: They're armed.
Soap: What was that? Armed? What do you mean armed? Armed with what?
Eddie: Err, bad breath, colorful language, feather duster... what do you think they're gonna be armed with? Guns, you tit!

Nick the Greek: Just get me a sample.
Tom: No can do.
Nick the Greek: What's that? Some place near Katmandu? Meet me halfway, mate.

Winston: Charles,why have we got that cage?
Charles: Uh,security.
Winston: That's right, that's right security. So what's the point in having it if we're not goin' fucking use it?
Charles: Well I would've used it but this is Willie and Willie lives here.
Winston: Yes but you didn't know it was Willie until you opened the door did you?
Willie: Chill Winston, it's me. Charlie knows it's me. What's the problem?
Winston: The problem is Willie is that Charles and yourself are not the quickest of cats at the best of times. So just do as I say and keep *the fucking cage locked!* What is that?
Willie: That's Gloria.
Winston: Yes I know that's Gloria, what's that?
Willie: Fertilizer.
Winston: You went out six hours to buy a money counter and you come back with a semi-conscious Gloria and a back of fertilizer. Alarm bells are ringing Willie.
Willie: We need fertilizer Winston.
Winston: Mmmhmm. We also need a money counter. This money's got to be out by Thursday, I'm buggered if I'm gonna count it. Just make sure if you do need to buy sodding fertilizer could be a bit more subtle.
Willie: What do you mean?
Winston: We grow copious amounts of ganja, yah. And you're carrying a wasted girl and a bag of fertilizer. You don't look like your average horti-fucking- culturalist! That's what I mean Willie.

Eddie: Oh, and if Tom or anyone else for that matter feels like givin' them a bit of a kickin', I'm sure it won't do any harm.
Soap: Yeah, little bit of pain never hurt anybody. If you know what I mean. Also, I think knives are a good idea. Big, fuck-off shiny ones. Ones that look like they could skin a crocodile. Knives are good, because they don't make any noise, and the less noise they make, the more likely we are to use them. Shit 'em right up. Makes it look like we're serious. Guns for show, knives for a pro.
Tom: Soap, is there something we should know about you?
Bacon: I'm not sure what's more worrying. The job or your past.

Bacon: What's that?
Samoan Joe's Barman: It's a cocktail. You asked for a cocktail.
Bacon: No. I asked for a refreshing drink! I didn't expect a fucking rainforest? I could fall in love with an orangutan in that! Bring me a pint.
Samoan Joe's Barman: You want a pint, you go to the pub.
Bacon: This is a pub!
Samoan Joes Barman: It's a Samoan pub.

Snatch

Bullet Tooth Tony: So, you are obviously the big dick. The men on the side of ya are your balls. There are two types of balls. There are big brave balls, and there are little mincey faggot balls.
Vinny: These are your last words, so make them a prayer.
Bullet Tooth Tony: Now, dicks have drive and clarity of vision, but they are not clever. They smell pussy and they want a piece of the action. And you thought you smelled some good old pussy, and have brought your two small mincey faggot balls along for a good old time. But you've got your parties mangled up. There's no pussy here, just a dose that'll make you wish you were born a woman. Like a prick, you are having second thoughts. You are shrinking, and your two little balls are shrinking with you. And the fact that you've got "Replica" written down the side of your gun...
[Zoom in on the side of Sol's gun, which indeed has "REPLICA" etched on the side; zoom out, as they sneak peeks at the sides of their guns]
Bullet Tooth Tony: And the fact that I've got "Desert Eagle point five O"...
[Withdraws his gun and puts it on the table]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Written down the side of mine...
[They look, zoom in on the side of his gun, which indeed has "DESERT EAGLE .50" etched on the side]
Bullet Tooth Tony: Should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence. Now... Fuck off!

Cousin Avi: Is there gambling involved?
Doug the Head: It's a boxing match, Avi, a boxing match.
Cousin Avi: Did he have a case with him?
Doug the Head: Yes, he had a case.
Cousin Avi: And this schmuck is gambling? You're talking about Franky "I've got a problem with gambling" fucking Four Fingers Doug.

Doug the Head: Avi, I'm not telepathic.
Cousin Avi: Well you're plenty fucking stupid, I'll give you that. Do you know why they call him Franky "Four Fingers" Doug? Because he makes stupid bets with dangerous people, and when he doesn't pay up, they give him te chop, Doug. And I'm not talking about his fucking fore-skin either.

Franky Four Fingers: So the biblical scholars mis-translated the Hebrew word for "young woman" into the Greek word for "virgin," which was a pretty easy mistake to make, since there is only a subtle difference in the spelling. But back then it was the "virgin" that caught people's attention. It's not every day a virgin conceives and bears a son. So you keep that for a couple of hundred years, and the next thing you know, you have the Roman Catholic church.

Doug the Head: Avi, I'm not telepathic.
Cousin Avi: Well you're plenty fucking stupid, I'll give you that. Do you know why they call him Franky "Four Fingers" Doug? Because he makes stupid bets with dangerous people, and when he doesn't pay up, they give him te chop, Doug. And I'm not talking about his fucking fore-skin either.

Scent of a Woman

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Ooh, but I still smell her.
[inhales deeply through nose]
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here.

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: When in doubt... fuck.

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Out of order, I show you out of order. You don't know what out of order is, Mr. Trask. I'd show you, but I'm too old, I'm too tired, I'm too fuckin' blind. If I were the man I was five years ago, I'd take a FLAMETHROWER to this place! Out of order? Who the hell do you think you're talkin' to? I've been around, you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen. Boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there isn't nothin' like the sight of an amputated spirit. There is no prosthetic for that. You think you're merely sending this splendid foot soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs, but I say you are... executin' his soul! And why? Because he's not a Bairdman. Bairdmen. You hurt this boy, you're gonna be Baird bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there, FUCK YOU TOO!

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Clear them little bottles off. And when I get off the phone here, call up Hyman and tell him I want it wall to wall with John Daniels.
Charlie Simms: Don't you mean Jack Daniels?
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: He may be Jack to you son, but when you've known him as long as I have... that's a joke.

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

Jim Byrd: You're 32 years old, and you've achieved nothing. Jesus Christ was dead and alive again by 33. You better get crackin'.

Come and see...

Dave Matthews performed last night, him, his voice, his guitar and his buddy Tim Reynolds on guitar. Acoustic Set.

If you get a chance to see them, do so... this was a small hall for about 1500 people, it was a really intimate environment, sound quality was brilliant and the show was mind blowing.

DM has a lot more variations and modulations to his voice than I could imagine and the whole idea of seeing, listening, experiencing something so stripped down was a brilliant experience.

It hardly ever happens that an artist I see in concert will play the songs I want to listen to, but this was 1 freak incident when he did and I was giddy with delight.

Enough said... I am still on a high... and ya it was a "Brilliant Night"

Friday Mar 9 2007
Ancienne Belgique

Bartender
Crash Into Me
Save Me
Grace Is Gone
So Damn Lucky
Satellite
Old Dirt Hill
Smooth Rider
Stay Or Leave
Crush
Oh
(Still Water)
Don’t Drink the Water
Tim Solo
Gravedigger
Little Thing
When The World Ends
#41
Lie In Our Graves
Dancing Nancies

__________________

Some Devil *
Sister
Warehouse
The Maker
Two Step

Show Notes:
Dave And Tim appear on all songs except where noted
* Dave Solo

(song name) indicates a partial song
indicates a segue into next song