Ta-da!

Today someone referred a few times to that 'ta-da!' moment. Got me thinking - who was the first person to go 'ta-da!'?

Jesus?

Or God before him.

Or perhaps it was more recent than that.

The inventor of the bra.

GENERATING ANGST

A fabulous gift and a weirdly frightening task [customizedcoupland].

With eight inputs my go-to was Random, Wikipedia. And the (honest) list (snugly):

• SM UB-34
• Japanese Left Army
• DNF
• Hopewell, Connecticut
• Ludeasa River
• Homotrixa
• Solar Eclipse of April 30, 1957
• Nano-Tera

But I wanted to meld a part of me with the book; why, vainly, wouldn't I... this book about how it feels to read a book?

Hard!

And opted for a memory off [sic] Toronto; something so entirely far from the future that it would nuzzle hilariously the storylines. But it kind of slinked and whirred full circle: a squirrel in its pumpkin velodrome; and became, rested, a couplandic image after all. Perhaps.

Thanks MJ - really, a gift.

BEER - 5, JOY

Welcome.

Wherever you like.

Beneath the old photo of Brel. Ashtrays, beer bottles.

Great beer.

BEER - 4, THE PENCIL

On wait staff with ultra short-term memory loss... write it down!

BEER - 3, INNOVATION

A provocation: the greatest beer innovation of the 21st Century... good service. Really good service.

Friendly. Efficient. Sincere.

A model business.

BEER - 2, CROCODILE

Le Crocodile in the 5th. I'm a long way the oldest in the place, and the only one drinking beer. The youngsters are into thay cocktails and playing with Rubik's Cubes, playing cards and calculators. Yes, calculators. Retro turquoise Casio jobs.

Much is blogged about the bar / club. And those who choose to do so wax romantically, enchanted; hooked. A couple eloquently scoff, focussed on the Haribo 'dile.

But, enfin, it is what it is.

That's the thing about your bar; it is what it is.

CLIMATE CONTROL

In the grip of a cold snap, Paris is mad for winter sports gear. Queues out the door at Au Vieux Camper. The Damart store is hot with old ladies.

In the bar a girl orders a flaming crepe and when it arrives, theatrically, she and her friend set aside their iPhones and warm their hands in the blue licks, laughing but committed.

SPECTACLE, SORBONNE

An elderly gentleman, don-ish, takes up the table next to us (very next to us) at a bar by the Sorbonne. He has one eye and two pairs of spectacles, which he fussily and frequently swaps about.

Am ever when by the Sorbonne put in mind of the Pet Shop Boys ("Pet Shop Boys, no 'the'" as the wrinkled Nabokov-looky-likey gay father of Corrie's Gail, pedantically said) - 'Opportunities'; I studied at the Sorbonne.

A heavyweight knowledge brand.

WACKO

The French - as only they would - okay, in fairness, TF1 - are singularly ennobling Michael Jackson as 'Michael', and are concluding 'the doctor who killed the king of pop must be made to pay'.

Ja.

Yeah.

Uh-huh.

Saw a rotunda poster of the king yesterday; leopard skin shimmery chemise and gold jeans. The latter sans ceinture and gaping a little at the hip.

Brand of drugs.

BEER - 1, THEMES BAR

In a bar in le Marais, Mexican themed. A clip-art job, but well done. The only pression is Grolsch. Good, good Grolsch. Bang up-to-date glassware too.

Dutch beer, Mexican bar, Paris street.

PABLO, HONEY 2

The Musee Picasso is closed for major refurbishment. Parked up on the pavement by the big wooden doors is a blue Ford Transit with English plates. It's a Harry Enfield sketch, live.