Vähän perspektiiviä näihin juttuihin by mr. Thompsonowski

Good day good people.

Now is the time where i will try and open your eyes to the truth of the weekend. As you can see by the wonderful Ms. Burman there were a few incidents where somehow, half of the blame was mysteriously shifted to my shoulders. Allow me to explain......

Ok so Friday 26/07/2013 at approx 17:00 I left work with a skip in my step, ready for another exciting, enlightening and crazy adventure with Isa. I stopped at a supermarket and bought a few alcoholic beverages (for Isa's mum: really, just a few). We met at the Reeperbahn and I dropped my bag + alcohol in her massive room and fridge respectively, and we left to the Kochhaus. Possibly the most bizarre (word of the weekend FYI) place in the history of shops (maybe only bested by TK Maxx as mentioned in a previous blog post. A place where you cannot buy just one item, all items must be bought in order to completely cook a meal, thought of by........I can only assume is a person who has every kitchen appliance and utensil at their fingertips.
We took a look around and, after what seemed like hours Mi'lady finally made her decision as to what she will be cooking. So it was collected, bought, packed into a very quaint paper bag with a lovely little sticker to help keep it in place.

I would like to add at this point that I do not like this American paper bag style of shopping. The enemy of paper is water so I cannot understand how it is acceptable that you can pack all of your items into a bag that cannot even hold strong against the rain. Fortunately the weather was on our side that day and we did not have to juggle the food home due to lack of sturdy packing material.

I digress.

So we returned back to the 'mad house' and 'little ms sunshine' made a start on cooking. After looking for a grater it was decided that improvisation was the best way to move forward. A theme that was ingrained throughout the whole meal. So cheese was cut into very small pieces. As was the courgette and prawns. We then discovered that we didnt have a hand blender so it was decided that we would eat it 'as is' after some cooking.
The pasta was boiling as is the generally accepted method of cooking and for some reason the recipe called for 200ml of oil to be heated for some reason. I cannot understand why, but, it was not my job to question this.
So the oil was heated according to the instruction. At this moment Isa decided that it would be a good idea to put a plastic spatula into mentioned oil. Now from my understanding of the effects of heat on plastic there could have only been one outcome, however I hadnt really thought about this as a spatula is for cooking, and as cooking usually involves heat I took it at face value........

I heard the smoke alarm start to sing and just assumed that, like all smoke alarms, it was paranoid. So i jumped and pushed the button to silence it, grabbed a towel and started to wave it frantically in a desperate attempt to remove the smoke from the kitchen. This was in vain but it doesnt matter.
Judging by the noise that emanated from the mouth of Isa I could tell that something was wrong. Upon investigation it appeared that the spatula didnt have the structural integrity to deal with hot oil and had given up its fight and laid itself to rest at the bottom of the pan.

As you can see the above paragraph was in no way related to me. I had merely paid for the food and also helped chopping. So I have not been absolved and as you can tell, I was innocent in this escapade....

After a surprisingly tasty meal (genuinely) We prepared ourselves for the evening in the 'Bowl of Noodles' sorry, 'Golden Poodle' to get drunk, there is no other reason to be in that place..... We had to make a small stop at the Cobra bar so "The Bank of Thompsonowski" could open for business as a friend needed to borrow cash. After a small fight almost broke out we arrived at the Poodle and drank some beers. It was decided that it was a good idea to cover Isa and Isa's Anna(?) in lipstick so they could kiss my shirt and also my cheek. My t-shirt still bears these marks however I will take a before washing and after washing picture for the fans of this blog if required as proof that I was in the presence of two very crazy ladies.
After this we met some very friendly Germans and spoke a little in their 'bow vow' (sorry, "how how") language and continued to remove the blood from our alcohol system. After a while we decided to leave to some other club, I forget the name so we could continue drinking in a slightly more normal place (I use the term normal in its loosest possible sense).

So we were standing at a bar and drinking when I realised that Isa had disappeared with my wallet and phone. So I decided to search for her, which wasnt easy in a place that had 3 floors and 5 or 6 staircases. I eventually found Isa and we decided to go outside via the dancefloor where we danced to some Finnish band I believe and I was attacked by a very friendly Turkish man. So we went outside to reduce our body temperature and was greeted once again by mentioned Turkish man who was very angry and at that time I had no clue why. I was 'saved' from this man by Isa and her expert distraction methods. So after this i believe we drank some more and then went to another part of the outside, still somehow in the same club where I received a phonecall from Anna, not the same Anna mentioned above, but a rather more crazy Anna that I had met a few weeks ago. I decided I was having more than enough fun and her presence and craziness wasnt required or desired so I told her that i had no idea where we were and that the only thing that I know was that there was a sign that said "Live music every Wednesday". I thought no more of this and continued the evening by returning with Isa to the group and drinking Vodka that make everyone look like they were trying to drink vinegar through their eyes. At this point (or maybe it was before the vodka.........anyway) Isa was invited for a cocktail by some guy who claims to have been singing or playing a guitar when we arrived. I didnt see him holding a microphone or a guitar at any point in the night but that may well have been my observational skills failing me rather than him lying. So i decided that it was not my place to question why once again and took it at face value.

At this point I decided to play a game with Konstantine whereby every time I called him gay I had to buy him a drink......Best money I have ever spent!!

After this game got a little boring i decided that i would go outside once again to cool down, at this point I saw Mr friendly Turk once again and, as i hadnt actually found out what the problem was as I was distracted by Isa and her hostage negotiation skills, alcohol and poor judgement told me that I should confront him once again to find out exactly what was on his mind.
It appears that I had bumped into him on the dancefloor and he didnt like this. I found this totally unreasonable and in the politest way that I could I told him that if he doesnt want to be touched might i suggest he stays away from crowded dancefloors. At this point the impossible happened. Anna (the crazy lady) appeared infront of me with one of her friends, i believe my words were "I am in the middle of an argument, i will be with you when its finished". I finished this argument and upon a sudden realisation of what just occurred I then walked rather quickly away from the outside, Mr Friendly and Ms. Crazy and frantically tried to call Isa. She was unavailable so i sent her a message saying "She found me, call me now!!!" and about 2 minutes later Isa was next to me and we were turning corners, walking up stairs and down other stairs to lose my crazy lady and left the club very quickly. We then found ourselves in a very normal looking bar where Isa ordered a beer and i had a double whisky and cola.

After this the evening was over and we decided that sleep was the best course of action.

So to cut a long story short (!!!!!) alot of these things were not my fault however Ms. Rainbows tries to paint the picture.

Great evening Isa, shame you couldnt be there Vesta :-)


The Famous Thompsonowski, and wearer of the worst tattoo in history