One of my professors at uni used to say that Milton, who was blind and so got his daughters to write down his poems for him, used to wake up in the morning full of verses he had dreamt about and say “he wanted to be milkd” which is a fun metaphor. Without comparing myself to Milton, or putting sick images in your head, I just want to give a pashut update.
Start with the general:
This country’s disregard for nut allergies has just caught up with itself. Someone was killed by a Belgium waffle she was told was not coated with Nutela but rather chocolate spread (Read more). The waiter was wrong, the girl died. We all knew this was going to happen sooner or later. You lawyers out there, I’m wondering, who gets charged for manslaughter?
In other news, university students are now entering their second week of camping outside the municipal building protesting the rent prices. You can smell the camp from a larger radius each day. There was a huge march in Tel Aviv as well
This started as a protest about the high prices of cottage cheese (which has become the icon/scapegoat for the high prices of all milk products). It’s funny to see the students merge the two causes in their banners which read: “Let’s go live in Bibi’s Cottage house!”
Cottage in English is a word used for a small house, but in Hebrew it just means a house made out of cottage cheese. Funny image.
Meanwhile up the road each Friday afternoon DJ’s and bands pack the streets for a pre-Shabbat street party which are a barrel of fun. This week they covered a small area with sand and small kiddie-pools and splashed around the blearing music. If your ears didn’t melt from the heat, they would have from the music.
Still working at the ice cream store. The ice creams still taste oh so sweet and are so brightly coloured that this week a kid actually smashed her face against the glass trying to get a closer look.
I publicly apologise for laughing.
But it was hilarious head this massive thud and seeing a face print on the glass, and then the three second pause before the crying begins. She was fine after her parents stuck some ice cream in her mouth.
Despite this, the work is actually sucking the life out of my soul. To hold my sanity together I decided to embrace the inevitable shattering of sanity hoping that the paradox would confuse the system and I would leave each shift unharmed.
Halfway through tribal dancing with my eyes coated over with white chocolate spread I remembered that my boss can watch the cameras from his computer at home. Too bad I had also just used the toilet with the door open. He can enjoy that in his spare time I guess.
The other way I not amuse myself is by turning each request into an innuendo – In your end-oh!
We have a flavour called ‘alfahores’ which is based on an Argentinean biscuit, but Americans come in drunk late at night and just read half the sign and ask “What’s an ‘Alpha-whore’?”
Then some people come in and ask “Can I try your Belgium chocolate?” Having dark skin I just take a moment, laugh to myself and carry on.
Then after they take eat my Belgium Chocolate they ask if they can pay me.
Then there’s the people who say “ah its dripping all over me” and when the freezers are on too high they say “it’s so hard” and I’m just like –“ YEH IT IS!”.
See what this place is turning me into, a sick old man!
Anyway, that’s all from me, I’m out!
