Foreign correspondence, you cunts

Apparently Dutch tolerance doesn't extend to the handicapped.

Views From a Window

For readers concerned by this, well let it be known that, for now, I am living in a home. With a real stove and everything. This is my actually pretty decent view. If I ever slept, it would be to the sound of the ocean doing it's thing.

SeaCast Over.

Calling Card, Drunk Mentor, Needed

Was sitting on the bus today when the old woman sitting next to me interrupted my TAL podcast (on living alone) to show off the fact that she had a giant live rabbit in her purse. I assumed she was some sort of escaped mental patient, and patronised the hell out of her. Possibly in response to this she went on to ramble about her days as a journalist, and then a philosophy professor (at VUW... but still...). Her key theme was how living alone with her rabbit allowed her to chain smoke and get pissed all the time. She also kind of hit on me a bit.

Anyway my point is that this brief interaction should have resulted in my inculcation into some bizarre circle of eccentric old animal-toting intellectuals, who would share with me their wisdom about local politics, ply me with sherry, and eventually hook me up with a job at The Listener.

None of this happened though. Not because I'm socially inept. But because I don't have an awesome calling card . Post me your designs.