Tag Archive: Black sludge

Not so miffed today

spider-2005-12-13…and I stopped playing with myself.

But I am still bored. Spider patience gets boring sometimes. It’s the only game that I play on the PC when I want a rest. I have never played any of these new fangled games.

I managed finally to post on Things that Fizz and Stuff, the scheduled post (scheduled before the problem) appeared okay, I had forgotten it in my miffedness and only discovered it when I made a test post that worked.

Still cool, which makes it pleasant, it tries to rain but can’t quite make it. I went for a walk to the supermarket and did some shopping. That’s pretty good for me, about 3kms on my walkingstick; although it is cool, I still raised a sweat.

Christmas Silly Season is officially over. I ate the last piece of panetone as dessert after lunch.

So that’s it until next December. Also, I was rather disappointed that the supermarket had run out of black sludge, my wallet was happy, but I was sad. Actually, I had resolved that I wouldn’t indulge today, because it is expensive.

In 10 minutes I have to think about work. It’s Friday afternoon, and I’d rather not think about it, but it is a necessary evil. Another 20 minute walk, it’s just tried to rain again, so I am hoping that it will hold off until I am at work.

Keep a look out

TV is full of advertising for a new season (three months) of Big Brother Brazil. Those bloody stupid little robots really piss me off, as does the whole programme.

Talk about pathetic.

I mean Brazilian public TV is already pathetic, this programme reduces it to the banal and beyond.

Still, it means early nights.

So, I’ll make like the pigeons, and flock off!

I was wrong… again

Street clocks that show the temperature

It’s not often, but yesterday I was wrong. It takes a man to sit here sweating in his underpants to admit that.

When I wrote the post about the weather yesterday, I hadn’t yet been outside. But on leaving the house to go to work, I discovered my folly. Yesterday was actually hotter than the day before, a fact that was confirmed on the TV news last night.

Hottest day of the year. Official temperature 43,6°C. But here in the west of the city, they showed one of the street clocks in our area marking 48°C (122°F), now THAT’s hot!

No wonder my beer was boiling in the bottle.

Last night, it was impossible to sleep. Despite several ‘cold’ showers and lying in bed sopping wet under the direct fan to try and stay cool enough to drop off. I finally stopped trying and got up and wrote a post I have issues. Pop across and read it, there’s some personal back ground there that could well apply here.

Did you get the riddle in yesterday’s post title? = Blowed if I know! and the other = A man’ best friend is his dog. I had the book years ago, but sold it with the rest of my library when I decided to go abroad.

murphys-irish-stoutI am hoping that my student will ring soon and cancel today’s lesson.

It’s too hot to even think about work and I have a can of black sludge (Murphy’s Irish Stout) in the fridge that needs drinking. I drink it as a black ‘n tan (half stout, half beer) because it’s so expensive, that way I get double the pleasure.

Although I am not in the more affluent class, I am at an age when small pleasures are deserved.

I have been invited to my neighbour’s for New Years Eve, and apart from a nice imported bubbly to celebrate the New Year, I have two more cans of black sludge  to share with him.

Now I must off, my plants are doing a collective wilt. This heat has already killed off my mint and also, I’m afraid, my bonsai has succumbed as well.


A bit dramatic…

I saw this photo on a friend’s blog…

…and I thought, “Wow! It’s started, the end of the world!”

But apparently it is only a sun pillar. I was rather disappointed despite it being rather spectacular. A sun-pillar reflects light from a Sun setting over Östersund, Sweden.

The world has been rather preoccupied over the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School in CT, me too. I have put a lot of thinking time into the incident, and like many people asking myself, “Why?” I have found the answer, although most people won’t; headlines and hysteria will blind them, as they have blinded Obama. You’ll find my thoughts on my blog They say it’s in the Genes.

Damn, WordPress is not behaving: I can’t add images, nor links… http://avgenes.wordpress.com/2012/12/18/headlines-hysteria/ so there’s the url. I managed the above image, because I posted it to my Blogspot blog then ctrl c, ctrl v it here.

I can’t sleep, it’s too hot. I have had five cold showers in the last two hours to cool off wet under the fan, but it’s not working. That combined with the bare bones ideas for this post coursing through my mind, sleep has eluded me entirely.

The world is due to end on Friday.

Now that’s rather a dramatic event, or at least it should be. I had considered rushing off to some exotic locale like Milliways to watch it all. Milliways, you ask? Yes, that’s the restaurant at the end of the universe where you can watch the end of the universe over breakfast.

But the end of the universe is a bit far, and there are no buses from Rio…

So I thought it prudent that I should watch the world ending whilst indulging in a can of black sludge (Murphy’s Irish Stout) from my local botequim, which is almost next door and I don’t need a bus; it’s so close that I don’t even use my walking stick.

The botequim is where I often sit to watch the world passing, kids playing in the park, lovers necking on the benches and the council rubbish truck passing on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.

I thought that as it was only the world ending, and not the universe, a much more modest locale would suite.

Now there are somethings that are worrying me about this Mayan Calendar End of the World Thing.

The Mayans never actually predicted anything, in fact, not even their own demise, but then neither did the Romans.

What has got everyone’s tits in a tangle is that the Mayan Calendar finishes on the 21st December 2012.

My kitchen calendar finishes on the 31st December every year and I just hop along to the bookshop and buy a new one and the world continues as though nothing untoward has happened; that is if you ignore the New Year hangover.

So I suspect that nothing is going to happen on the 21st either, but I’ll be at the botequim, just in case. At worst, we’ll have a refreshing thunderstorm about 4pm after another intolerably hot day and I’ll get wet walking to work for evening classes.

NB: This post is not exactly as I would have liked it due to WordPress problems, I only hope it publishes okay.

The Sun is Out

For three days I have been trying to think of a provocative and illuminating title for this post and all I could come up with is the sun is out.

While it’s true, it’s hardly provocative nor illuminating.

As a responsible blogger one tends to look for the best, but it doesn’t always happen.

The sun is out, it’s still cloudy, but the day looks promising after five days of solid cloud, rain and cold nights. The rain we have had has threatened the hill country of the state and there have been landslides, houses destroyed and people evacuated in the same areas that had over 900 deaths a year ago.

Old Marmite Jar

Yesterday I had a visitor, he’s a chemistry teacher who has taught himself English over the course of 20 years; he’s pretty good actually, but because of a lack of opportunity to speak, he is not fluent. The subject turned to things like peanut butter, black sludge and then Marmite (another form of black sludge).

I have talked about Marmite before, about a month ago in a post Black Sludge on Toast, but the matter in hand was that Marmite is not, to my knowledge, available in Brazil.

BTW, if you remember the old jars like the one pictured here, you are older than me. I had one, it was raided from my mother’s ‘jar cupboard’ in the laundry to use in my lab in the garage. You see at age 13 and all through high school I was a chemistry buff. My jar held the residue of an experiment, arsenic nitrate. I had many little jars with arsenic compunds. My father had a large can of arsenic trioxide, he used it in the garden, and of course what budding chemist could resist the temptation to experiment?

While I am writing this I am scouring blogs and sites that might tell me that Marmite is indeed available in Brazil. I found this description “it’s like a dark brown, salty honey” on Eat Rio. Well, no luck on the buying, but I have discovered that one can ‘make’ Marmite. It’s a longish process, taking ten days according to The English Can Cook, and one needs to be located near a brewery. Marmite is based on beer scum, or the top fermentation of brewer’s yeast.

The above blog is also cited by The Press, a Christchurch newspaper, so it must be on the right track, DIY Marmite only for the Brave. New Zealand is suffering because of a Marmite-famine caused by a fire at the only factory that makes the stuff.

So much for that black sludge. I had a can of the other black sludge (Murphy’s Irish Stout) yesterday in the presence of an AMBev rep, and inquired of him when his company would be supplying this heaven-sent nectar. He was, ahhh, non-commital.

I think that about does it for now. Maybe a Travel post later, haven’t a clue at the moment what it will be.


I’m Going Ga Ga!

Stupid Tart

Lady bloody Gaga on the news, Lady bloody Gaga on the chat shows, tha manager of the hotel where she is staying got interviewed. I saw an interview with her a few days ago, what a snotty-nosed stuck up spoiled brat! And to top it all off, she had nothing to say.

Show tonight, off to São Paulo tomorrow, so the news will have a field day again, then the following week she is off to Porto Alegre, more bloody Gaga.

Well, our American friends got another four years. Good, or bad? This election wasn’t about who would be good for America, rather who was the lesser evil. The lesser evil won.

This is an ass

Romney never smiled, he can’t. The closest he can come is a grimace, or at best a smirk.

Obviously the majority of Americans decided that a grimace or a smirk equals lies, of which Romney’s campaign had plenty.

He spent most of the campaign back peddling so hard and fast that I’m surprised he didn’t disappear right up his own arse (ass, for our American cousins who can’t tell the difference between a donkey and a rear end).

This is an arse, and a very pretty one

Must away, five hours of class ahead, more beer money. Hey, who knows, I might be able to afford another can of my black sludge.

Love my black sludge.


Logic dictates that once you have slipped your left foot comfortably into one flip-flop, the right should also easily slip into the one next to it.

Which left me wondering why it didn’t… I couldn’t find my other flip-flop. I knew it was there, because I left it there when I slipped into bed last night.

At 3am in the morning logic doesn’t necessarily work; your mind is fuzzy, it is dark.

You are so frustrated, cursing about the location of the other flip-flop, and it is several moments before you realise that you have put your left foot in the right flip-flop.

Simple things can send you insane and leave you muttering like a demented fool as you finally rearrange yourself.

Brazil is all-a-dither.

Lady Gaga is here in Rio de Janeiro for a one-night-stand. If you misconstrued that, then you are probably also right given that she appears to have the morals of an alley cat.

Personally, I wouldn’t cross the street to see her because I consider her to be one of the poorest examples of humanity that exists, to say nothing of the fools that think the sun shins from her nether regions. She’s enough to make you gag gag.

Have you ever wondered why the aliens have never stopped by. In all probability that would have captured the radio/TV transmissions of Lady Gaga or other of her ilk and assumed that there was no intelligent life here.

Music, is it? Art, freedom of expression… More like crap. No wonder the world is totally screwed up.

A comment about my recent prolonged absences by Small Footprints in which she suggested ‘burn-out’ as the culprit, may well be right. I have been teaching split days for some six months now, last week I had the luxury of one shift a day for the week and it so uplifted me from my mental fug. That I have asked to relieved of the morning classes and this ends tomorrow. So I am hopeful that this change will bring me back from the land of the intermittent posting.

I treated myself to another R$18 can of black sludge (Murphy’s Stout) yesterday afternoon. It’s so expensive and so good for the soul, bad for the pocket, but good for the soul.

I didn’t post yesterday, not a word; so I must make up for it today. Even Change the World Wednesday on Eco-Crap will be on Thursday this week, and I have a lovely post to repost on Things that Fizz & Stuff all about the fried egg.

I finally got a new mouse (another new mouse) the last one was driving me batty with doubling the clicks.

So I’m off to the kitchen at 12:05 to make more coffee for breakfast…


Black Sludge on Toast

Yesterday, I wrote about bliss.

Today, something similar, close to bliss, nostalgia, the taste of one’s childhood.

Black sludge on toast… Marmite

Marmite was a strange stuff, it came from a jar and was spread thinly on toast for breakfast, and if you were really unlucky and your mother had run the gamut of her imagination, you got it in your sandwiches for school lunch too.

On enquiry as to the origins of Marmite, one discovered that while mother knew a lot, she couldn’t really define Marmite.

She bought Vegemite once, and once only. It tasted funny, it came from Australia, but it wasn’t Marmite.

I only really found out the whole story from a post I included on Things that Fizz & Stuff. Interesting, it took me sixty years to discover the mystery of Marmite.

“The story really begins in the late 19th Century, when an edible by-product was first extracted from the yeast used by brewers to make beer. In 1902, Britain’s Marmite Extract Food Company came into being, taking its name from the French word “marmite”, for large pot.” – BBC News

Life moves at a leisurely pace.

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