Zoomin'

This pic is of the same street in this post, but zoomed in. Looks totally different and just highlights the overhead wires that are rife throughout the older parts of Tel Aviv.

RIP

One of my favourite bloggers (this is all that is left of his blog), and perhaps my inspiration for starting this blog, has apparently taken his own life. After days of silence and even intrigue, a friend has posted a revealing and very sad account of his last days. Seems his Internet persona was a front for a troubled soul. I've been playing pool and drinking beers tonight (it's now after midnight) and it's been a weird feeling...

RIP Shawn.

Bitch: The Beach

Something that really pisses me off in this country is the lack of access to free beaches. Every time the season kicks in, I have to stick to my regular haunts, otherwise end up paying at various other beaches. And is it me, or are beaches almost everywhere now getting whacked with an entry charge?

A couple of weeks ago I was "up North, like" and came across a little gem. OK, you have to drive through an Arab town (Jisr-ez-Zarka?) to get there, but it's a cracker. Untouched by matkot (beach tennis), free of arseim (Israeli chavs), and, alas, also bereft of bikini clad ladies, it is nonetheless a sight for sore eyes. Just a few fishermen shacks, five or six boats and a few kids running around. This is what it should be all about, right?

Sowf Tel Aviv

What the hell am I? #8

UPDATE: It is, of course, a freaky tomato. Well done, Dr Buck Frank Alzheimer.

Night motion

Spot the town...and spot the lack of a tripod...

Moral question

Would you rent a place 30 metres from another school-type place, that, though not concentrating solely on English, is a competitor and has only been going a few weeks? The location is very good, a small, very popular shopping mall. I should point out that in smallsville there are very limited options, this ain't Tel Aviv. And I'm not scared of competition, just feels somehow "uncomfortable"...

Spot the zebra. The what?

I know I like to go on about how shite they drive over here, but really, would I have been able to snap this picture in Blighty?

Tel Aviv two-wheelers

Bubble and squeak

Lifted from junior's flickr page.

Ugly but cheap

The ugliest city in Israel is being sold on ebay and ain't getting too many high bids...

Homo Sapiette - May '06

As the bikini season kicks in, there's only one possible Sapiette this month - the rather gorgeous Bar Rafaeli. (Who says I don't care about my readers? I've seen the stats, the searches for Bar that end up visiting anglosaxy...I dare you, do a search for Bar Raphaeli and see who comes out first in the search results!)

Rather gorgeous, or perhaps, even too gorgeous...? I don't think anyone can doubt she's a stunner. Perhaps not the brightest cookie in the tin either, but, who cares? She's been an actress, a model in various bikini campaigns, and is apparently lined up to do Victoria's Secret. She's also allegedly hooked up with Leonardo Di Caprio recently. And despite being around for years, is still only 21.

And, with just one more Homo Sapiette to go before we bring this eye candy section to an end (I'll have a full calendar of 12 luscious ladies), who will make it for the final month? Decisions, decisions...

What the hell am I? #7

Bright sparks

Tuesday evening there was one hell of a traffic jam into Tel Aviv. Everyone had apparently heard of the big fireworks display on Tel Aviv beach and had decided to come on down. After nearly 2 hours of crawling ever closer to Tel Aviv, I quit and headed for North Tel Aviv, where the in-laws have a rooftop apartment. OK, it wasn't quite the same, but I still got to see some of the display and grab these pics while I know some people were stuck in traffic when it kicked off.

Gotta love Tel Aviv, they really fucked up with the planning, eh? I don't want to think about how emergency vehicles would have got through the traffic in the case of, well, an emergency...

Gutted but proud

Very disappointed, though mrs. anglosaxy is maybe even more so...in the end we went to Banana Beach, with about 5000 others. Met quite a few gooners but we were heavily outnumbered by Spaniard wannabees. More to come later, with some pics, once I get past the hangover...

UPDATE: Some pics...it was apparently 7000 last night. And out of that 7000, can you guess how many complete tossers there were? And how many of them sat next to us? And, please, who was that interested in Ivri Lider's performance before the game...

Nice to see a big ol' Union Jack flying high. This one belonged to the British Embassy guys who were there to support Manchester United Arsenal...

As you can see, we came early and got a good seat...or maybe not.

Tonight, I celebrate my love...

It's the big one tonight. The biggest game in Arsenal's history. And I'm a bundle o'nerves. So, to alleviate the tension, I thought I'd write a little ditty, an adaptation of the title of this post (yes lovers, the Peabo version). Sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin...

Tonight I celebrate my love for you
Henry, Toure, Lehmann, Cesc and Eboue
Tonight no one's gonna beat us
We'll leave the Spaniards behind us
While I try not to poo

Tonight I celebrate my love for you
And hope that deep inside you feel it too
Tonight our flags will be flying
The stadium full of gooners
While I try not to poo tonight

Tonight I celebrate my love for you (ooh)
And that midnight beer is gonna come shining through
Tonight there'll be no noone stopping us
What I want most to do is to see you win big tonight

Tonight I celebrate my love for you
And the season won't end so blue
Tonight we will both discover
How friends turn into gooners
While I try not to poo

Tonight I celebrate my love for you (ooh)
And that midnight beer is gonna come shining through
Tonight there'll be no noone stopping us
What I want most to do is see you lift that cup
Tonight I celebrate my love for you

Over 25 years I've been a faithful gooner. This has to be our night...COME ON YOU GUNNERS!!

* MASH is apparently off limits to gooners, Barca supporters will be taking over the pub. Barca supporters who've never even been to Spain, of course...so I might end up here.

Gardening

Eee by gum, the sky's gone all glowee like...my garden, a couple of weeks ago.

These next 2 are also from the garden, the first shows one of the tricks my camera has up its aperture...color isolation and all that jazz...

Crack-ing solution

Nice one.

Loved this line:
"I could do without seeing some of my mates' backsides first thing in the morning."

Hit that fecker!

You just haven't 'experienced' Israel if you haven't heard the thwack of a summer beach...

Thank you...

...to the bastard who threw a brick at my car window. Not sure why you didn't take anything, but you sure screwed up my Friday evening. All I know about you is that you don't drink beer because you ignored the case of 20 beers sitting on the back seat. Nice job, mate.

As for the traditional Cup Final barbeque, it's ongoing as I speak, just without the Cup Final...the PlayStation has been dusted off instead. Looks like we're missing a cracker of a game too...

More pics to come.

I know a man...

The remote has gone AWOL again? Don't worry, I know a man down Yafo way who can help...

Suburbia

Taken from the same balcony...
The ultimate Israeli dream - a red-tiled cottage with a sunset view of the Med, while just down the street the neighbours have a sweeping view over a valley of fields...almost makes you believe you could actually live here...

C'est moi

Click to big (and see nose hairs in all their glory)

Beachin' it

April 2006. Click to big.

Farewell Highbury...

A sad day for Arsenal supporters, but a move in the right direction...and I wouldn't want to be a Spurs supporter, but this morning? Ha Ha Ha! Food poisoning, my ass...

Things you start doing when you become a Dad

• Sleep a lot less...
• ...but squeeze in a whole lot more to your day.
  
• Cultivate a sixth sense that picks up a stifled cry from the next room in the wee hours.
• Take more interest in those soppy emails of funny baby pics/clips.
• Play (and reminisce about) those nursery rhymes you grew up with.
• Read all those Ladybird classics, especially Puss In Boots.
• Develop character voices for all those Ladybird story sessions.
  
• Overdo the stupid faces just to get a cheap laugh.
• Brag about your baby's abilities to bore non-parents shitless.
  
• Compare your pram with that pram passing by right now...
  
• Appreciate your parents.
• Appreciate the miracle of a new life.
• Appreciate the good fortune of not having to go through the shit some people have to go through in order to have a baby.
  
• Dream about the near future and taking the boy hand-in-hand to watch The Boys.
• Think about "the family", rather than just me.

Right, that's enough of that. I'm having a hard time coming up with stuff to write, though a lot is going on right now...so I've decided to make the next few posts "pic posts". I think there are some great pics lined up, so enjoy...

Another one escapes...

This time it's the turn of O to up and leave (please, no jokes about yet another dog running out on me...he he he). Yep, my corridor cellmate, my rebel-in-arms, my vodka-toting Ruskie has decided to quit the rat race once and for all. She's had as much as she can take from this place, and, let's face it, they've thrown a lot of shit our way. If I had to work full-time here, and if I gave half the shit O gives, I'd have lasted half as long as O.

So, after a long chat over last weekend (RESPECT, girl!), she handed in her notice, writing the most sucky-up resignation letter I've ever heard. But when pitzuim (layoff compensation) are at stake, we suck-up, all of us. Don't we? Anyway, the boss has decided to become a bitch and wants her out quickly, just in case her free spirit influences any other inmates. That's right, last year's "Employee of the Year" is being thrown out on her ear because, God forbid, she might just get some of these geeky hi-techers thinking...and forget about this over-reaction having something to do with the boss's fragile ego. Absolutely no connection. Whatsoever.

Who will they move into O's chair? Apparently, the hottest eye candy in the office is coming this way. Fine by me, of course, though the comradeship shared with O will probably never be repeated, especially at this place. The newbie has been here for years too, though she smiles way too much and is way too enthusiastic about everything. Makes you sick. Ha, ha, I can already see my next challenge: to convert her to the ways of not giving a feckin' damn...

O, it was a pleasure, an absolute treasure.

Lonely, I'm so lonely

Don't worry little barbeque table foldup set, you'll soon be joined by a million other tables and chairs. I promise.

Happy Independence Day!

Z update

There is no update. After checking 4 dog pounds yesterday, complete with an irritable junior, ringing countless organizations, and even checking out a reported sighting at 11.30 last night, he is still missing, the bastard.

A reminder...

...of just how much this country can wind me up.

A couple of days ago I went to the post office in smallsville to pick up some Easter eggs (oh my, including a big bag of these) sent by junior's grandparents. We'll skip the part of there being only one post office in the whole of smallsville, after they closed down 2 branches last month, one of which was across the road from my place. We'll also skip the part about there being no parking reasonably close to the only post office in town. You know what, the horrendous queue of about 50 people crammed into one tiny post office, I'm feeling large, it's on me...

The annoying part: the clerk asks me for my ID card while serving another 3 people (though the parcel collection queue is thankfully a tenth of the size of the main queue). I put it back in my wallet. I wait for my parcel. Another guy comes out with the parcel. Asks for my ID card. I get it out again, he writes something down. I put it back in my wallet. A third clerk double-checks, asks to see my ID card. A boiling inner rage is cooking up. I question the need to see my ID card 3 times. I'm ignored. And then ^ thud ^ he drops the parcel on the floor. I glare at the mother fucker and say: "If there's something breakable in there* you're paying for it". I walk out, tattered parcel in hands, muttering under my breath.

I fuckin' hate post offices in this country.

* Nothing breakable, just a load of chocolates. But still...