Wonderful Daydream

So, after seeing a huge increase in visitors on my otherwise completely unread blog, I took a closer look, and found out that post’s on tattoo’s do pretty well in terms of generating visitors =) Apparently, after porn and Obama, tattoo’s are the next best thing on the web. Well, here is another one.

I already did a post on the wings tattoo, this is a different body, a different picture, but they are wings alright. I very much like the idea of wings, although I wouldn’t have them as a tattoo.

A great artist from Belgium, wrote a song that mentions having wings. I’ve been feeling like that, for quite a while now. Please listen to it, it’s really really good. Hurrah for Novastar!

Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeej!
I just got my drivers license! With class seldom seen, I maneuvered the car through the city, and passed the test with flying colors. ‘t Was about time, one would expect so much after 4 attempts.

I repeat…: Jeej =)

So. There is your life. Slapped down in front of you, on a silver platter (slightly dented as if it was used before) rather harsh it seems by a waiter who, according to his black and golden brimmed name tag, listens to the name Earl.

The backbone of your dish consists of a sturdy, almost cement like blob of mashed potatoes. Good mashed potatoes, have been selected carefully, washed and peeled, boiled for around 20 minutes, and then mashed with a bit of rich cream, and a lump of butter.
For vegetables, a careful selection of this seasons most delicate offerings. There is chives, spring union, sprouts, beetroot, peppers, cucumber, ginger, lettuce, baby carrots and to top it of.. broccoli.

As your eyes wonder over your plate, looking for the meat, the sound of the waiter’s squeeking shoes echoes through the restaurant. Well. Maybe restaurant is a big word. Diner is probably more close to it. Greasy tabletops, plastic seats bolted to the ground, a toilet with an odor so foul that dogs begin to shiver with delight. It has been know to instantly clear out the nostrils of a men with permanently clogged sinuses.

Anyway. Back to your life. The meat looks awesome. Its a perfectly encrusted piece of roast beef, encrusted because of the bacon wrapped around it. It smells delicious, it’s not to big, or to small, it’s in perfect size. It gently wafts its smell over the table, seducing even that lonely fly to sit down for a while, and savor the moment.

Next to your plate, there is a bowl of gravy. Not just any gravy. It’s ‘the’ gravy. The jackpot amongst gravies. Other gravies fear it. Only a few of father gravy’s illegitimate children have turned out alright. But this, is the father itself. It has a nice, dark color. It’s a rich, thick gravy, and it contains, besides the secret ingredient (not to be named here because, after all, it’s a secret) some cooking juice of the potatoes, some cooking juice of the vegetables, and of course the remnants from the roast beef tray.

There you have it. The tray, the meal, the gravy. The diner, the toilet, the fly and the waiter. All together, they represent your life. All the ingredients. Now, it wouldn’t be very much of a parable to explain what is what. All I can say, is that it’s a damn shame the waiter forgot to bring me the wine that was suppose to accompany this excellent food.