Pineapple Surprise

I'm spent... completely spent...
Since sometime late last week, all my spare time and waking moments have been dominated by an impending deadline, that passed at 4:30pm yesterday. Needless to say, after many half-sleepless nights, the bastard is finished and sent off to its appropriate masters, where it awaits judgement.

So what did I do after, because, hell that's more interesting than you listening about me looking at over 30 hours of video footage...

At 5pm I headed over to the Russian Waterlogged Palace. Something strange was happening to my self, not unlike when you put several heavy books on top of a milk carton holding tapioca pudding inside... something weird and brainlike is going to squirt out. Did manage to whip up an incredible outfit, unitard, with graphic op art red and black suedette dress, sinched with a Conan the Barbarian-type hip belt... finished with black Audrey flats. Yup... smashing and delectable, if I do say so myself!

I sauntered over and noticed that the garage entrance was open. Pretending to play with my phone in the hopes of buying time, I saw a lovely looking boy standing by the doorway, all tousled chesnut hair and slightly scruffy shirt. So I gave him a shy smile and said my bonsoirs... he called after me... "hey, do you want to come in?" I mean, he didn't even know if I had any business in the Russian Palace! SCORE! I said, sure. He asked me my name, I gave it, and then he asked if I had been there before, and I said yes, I'm here to see Voin... after which I get the Royal Escort and am delivered to the doorway of my favourite Bulgarian Troublemaker.

Voin takes one look at my sorry condition, remember that at this moment I'd probably slept a grand total of 7 hours for two nights, and offers me some herbal remedies. We leave Ami Sioux, who looks positively MTV folk-esque against the aging white wall, dirty industrial floor and broad dusty window overlooking Paris, strumming her guitar and singing à la CatPower.

In the next room, another broad sunny industrial space with ceilings of glass, is a white table and yellow table. On the yellow table is a red capsule and a package of crayons. On the white table is a black desert-storm style cap. A skull hangs by the doorway and a picture of Christ is propped up against the window. Voin and I chat about future and past... laughing, giggling, he's so sweet and I adore him. I stretch myself on the low white table and look up at the blue sky. Fading spring golden light is still shining through.

Then we smoke a little, and, as this happens, we hear banging and clanging down the hallway. Usually, this whole section of the palace is reserved for us, so Voin runs out to check out what's going on. Turns out there's some Portuguese man, jolly looking with a rather pudgy doughlike face, do you remember the mute from The Heart is a Lonely Hunter... I always imagined he looked something like this Portuguese man, rather fleshy and blank yet amused eyes. And he's taking the industrial floor cleaning machine, but he doesn't have a clue how to work it. So Voin does the initial explanations...

Then we carry the crayons to yet another room, this one with a gigantic white wall, and, as so often happens when I'm sleep deprived and a little intoxicated, my hands act all on their own. We get lost in our sketches and doodles, a giant Marmot for me, with T-Rex fingers, eating a Johnny Halliday deer-man, and escaping octopii, followed by the saddest birdman in the world, his paunch quite turgid while his buttocks sag. I get lost in this....

Then Pedro, the Portuguese blankman, comes back and requests our specific aid. He really can't work the machine... I believe there's an off and on switch... But I like Pedro... he's funny and quite daft, in his Pink Panther-ish sort of way. We're all wobbly and fuzzy from the smoke, but agree to help. The next part is so crazy...

So we head down to the first floor, and enter the kitchen, which is massive, as you could expect from a Russian Palace. And the floor is completely encrusted in dirt... old industrial dirt on yellow tiles next to a chained grilled window. The boys run off in search of a pail, while I stand in the cavernous room, absorbed in the sheer luxury of having such a space to myself. Then they come back, throw bleach into the bucket and throw it in sparkling arcs all over the floor. Then Voin warns us to watch out, and he turns on the beast, which is basically just one round black brush that spins in one direction. He has problems controlling it and it seems to pull him where it wants to go, which is due left without fail. But he regains his edge and starts to move it across the tiles, scrubbing year and years of filth off of it. Then he passes it off to Pedro.

Pedro, who turns it on and is suddenly doing smurf steps to the right as the machine careens steadily towards the wall on his left. BANG... the machine slams against the wall, he does a little jump and lets go. Voin turns it off and moves the machine back towards the center. Pedro steps back up to the mound, turns the machine on, and repeats the same dance move, with smack-up against the wall included. I'm busting my sides laughing. He repeats this over and over, everytime turning on the machine and doing his smurf dance to the left. Finally, in a remarked improvement, he manages to just stand in the centre while the machine does a circle around him. The black beast, which he strains with all his might, spins soberly, round and round in circles, around this fat man on tiptoes. He has no control... an overgrown machine dog malfunctioning while some daft happy Pedro is holding on with all his might to the leash, pulled like a toddler behind it. Pedro had me in stitches for minutes.

We left him to his own devices on god knows how many joyrides he got out of that machine!

I headed up to Pyrenees, to await the Finnish ex-roommate, who was make a cameo appearance for the night. Eventually shuffled home, because was now in terrible shape, with smoke, fatigue and sun. Husband was at home and we giggled over something for a bit, drinking tea, jokes, exchanging sports notes... nice. And then cleaned up a little and the Finnish guy shows up. We jump straight into a vodka OJ, and, then move to brandade, olives, smoke salmon and rice cakes... soon the Malibu is out with the OJ. Getting all squishy on the inside and head foggy... am sure have smile pasted on face as am braindead inside. Fielded two phone calls and then pleaded fatigue and dropped out for a nap.

When I woke up, it was dark... and there was lots of noise. I dragged myself off the bed and peaked out the bedroom door...

-SAM!!!! Oh... Minette!

Swarmed by friends... all happy to see me from my week of absence... and everybody laughing at my sorry condition. Beer thrust into hand and there was a party going on! In my house! Like, people just decided to come over for some reason or another. There were the Swiss brothers, Alain and his Japanese wife, Nicolas, Scoubs, Herbie and Gasp... all of us swishing down beers and listening to music... It stayed that way till the end of the night... where, before leaving, Leopold gave me a Pineapple light. Isn't it the best? Merci LEO!!!!



Love impromptu parties at the house. Then... I watched the OC's Brother's Grim before sleeping... a near-perfect day, if I could say, after the project was finished!