vorsprung durch technik

Well, we've only gone and bought a bloody car.

Look at it. We have adopted a child a German automobile.

It's been about 6 months looking, and to be fair, the Brit has been doing all the work as I know next to fuck all about pistons and cambelts and alloy wheels, let's be frank, but either way he nabbed this bad boy with low mileage.

And finally, after years of procrastinating and buying things like New Beetles and flats and immigrating in between, we finally are the proud of onwers of an A3.

This has been years in the making. And to celebrate, we'll drive to Cornwall in it in September (a good 7 hour drive, to really stretch its legs out and show us what it can do).

Like a boss.

Bring on the choonz, roll down all four windows and oomce oomce oomce  at every street corner we stop at.

Now we should really stop fannying about and find a house. Going to look every day after work. Might have to sleep in the car if we haven't found one in the next few weeks.

subliminal is pants

The Dove and I spoke about subliminal messages over lunch yesterday.
In the 1950s, during the Golden Age of movie-making, Americans were subjected to subliminal advertising, whereby the word 'POPCORN' would pop up onto the screen, just somma, in the middle of the movie.
Do subliminal messages work? Perhaps if you really make a point of doing it:

Dove: Would you popcorn like a popcorn cup of tea?

Peas: Beg pardon?

Dove: I said, would you pop popping popcorn a cup of popping tea, slapper?

Peas: I get that you want popcorn, but surely bombarding me with Taurettes-sounding ticks that ever-so-clearly convey the word 'popcorn' is unnecessary. All you actually have to say is, “I'd like some popcorn.”

Dove: So you mean to popcorn say that this message popcorn popcorn is not working, popcorn?

Peas: It's oracular bombardment.

Dove: Do you popcorn suggest I post popcorn Sticky Notes around your popcorn lounge advertising my popcorn insatiable appetite for popped kernels instead?

Peas: No. That's bombardment via Sticky Note.

Dove: How about I popcorn write a popcorn feature on popcorn and ask you to popcorn edit it? Or better – read through it and ask you every five seconds what you think? “There once was a girl who craved popcorn to the extent that she wanted to vomit.” Then I'd say, “What do you think?”

Peas: I have an idea. Let's go to Kung Fu Kitchen for some Chicken Foo Yong.

Dove: Popcorn fucking popcorn my god popcorn.

Where did this all come from? I have learnt one has to ask for things when one wants them. Straight up. No bullshit. I want an Audi A3. I want to be loved. I want to have zero new wrinkles when I turn 27 tomorrow. (Holy Jesus. 27. I'm going to cry.)

If I went to the Audi car dealership and said, “Hi there, Audi A3 want, isn't this a nice window display you have, Audi A3 mine? Vorsprung durch tecknik, Audi mine?” Do you think they'll give me a demo model? No.