My New Favourite T Shirt!

Of special interest to any Danes out there.

I saw this in a shop on Saturday and immediately wanted needed it.

I was unsure of exactly which language the text is in, though my linguistic knowledge is vast enough to have known that it's something scandinavian.

When we got back to my apartment K and I googled the text to try to figure out the language but even that was inconclusive, telling us that it was either Danish or Swedish. I hope for the latter, having a big soft spot for all things Danish.

And there I was at a Solskala gig on Saturday night, a kicking one at that, my favourite gig with Solskala so far.

A fellow came up to me, raving about my T shirt. Turns out that he's a translator, doing English to Danish and the other way around ( I assume!). He proceeded to read the T shirt, to tell me exactly what it means, which I promptly forgot, and to insist on having a photograph taken with me, him and the T shirt, so that he could send it to his cousins in Denmark.

We chatted a bit about Danish cousins, a couple of which I own too, though not the same ones as the chap.

It's weird isn't it?

I saw the thing for sale, wanted it and bought it. But I wonder, what on Earth would make a clothes designer realise that an idea like this would be a good one? That is, if it is a good one. I'm not arrogant enough to think that just because I like it means that it's a commercial success.

Still, it's my new favourite one and it's not even a Superdry item, which makes me feel a tad disloyal, but it's by Coca Cola and I am a firm fan of that company too.

My only problem now is to be careful that I don't wear it too often. The trials and tribulations of a committed metrosexual eh?

Posts In The Pipeline

These are some posts I've been contemplating writing. Some are definites, some are almost definitely nots and others are definitely maybes.

1. Why is she called "Aunty" but I'm not called "Uncle"

2. My Royal Wedding day.

3. The serving classes and the served classes - Asia vs the West

4. Why I'm scared of espadrilles.

5. Making black girls dance.

6. The drip.

7. The arse wipes progress report.

8. "Dad, I think you should make friends with him".

9. The loneliness of the long distance drummer.

10. On carmanship.

Any that grab you?

Think You Know About Women??

After Kottu, can you guess which two blogs London, Lanka and Drums gets the most referrals from?

As usual in these parts there's no material prize, just that smug sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing you were right, that little smirk when you purse your lips slightly and hope that no one around you sees.

Apologies for the lazy post, but a particularly nasty bout of man flu prevents me from writing more. Normal service will resume shortly.

If I survive...

A Post A Day

I've been watching Naz's image a day photoblog with interest and fascination and it's inspired me to try something similar, only with words. In recent months I've put off writing blog posts with the justification, to myself at least, of not having enough time.

It's one of those amusing ironies in the life of a blogger, or at least in the life of a blogger who mostly writes a "diary" type blog such as this; that the more that happens in life, the more interesting and chunky subject matter there is to write about, but the less time exists in which to do the writing.

So I'm going to take a week as a starting point and try to write a post a day. Without the usual time and effort that I put in to posts, which believe it or not is a fair amount when I do one.

I'm going to try and chuck out some random thoughts each day, some might be big, others small and inconsequential.

Today's is about the tragic tsunami in Japan and the contrast between the coverage of it compared to the Sri Lankan one.

I've been watching a lot of news over the weekend and it dawned on me from Friday how this Japanese one has seemed like a "live" event. Some, if not all of this, is clearly because of the wealth of Japan in contrast to the wealth of many of the areas affected in the Sri Lankan tsunami.

We've watched the nuclear power plant explosion, we've watched people being rescued and possessions being swept to oblivion. So far I haven't seen an onscreen death but I'm not sure if this is by design or accident and wonder if it's just a matter of time.

And this "publicity", if that's the word, is it good or bad or both?

Perhaps it has helped to make the rest of the world feel more sympathetic towards Japan's disaster, maybe by making us feel more involved we're more likely to help if we can, all else being equal.

Of course, for me and most other Sri Lankans, we're connected to Lanka so things aren't equal. But, from the view of many in the world who have watched things in the media as they unfold it really seems as if the Japanese tsunami has been more vivid and more real.

And I'm not sure if that's good, bad or just fact.

This, That And Some

When you've reached legendary status in the Lankanosphere been blogging for a hell of a long time things can start to tail off a bit.

It worries me. Is this the beginning of the end? Will I eventually blog so infrequently that no one will read anyhow? Is Facebook taking over the world? Are blogs being superceded by Twitter and Facebook? Was "superceded" spelled correctly? Should I ask more questions?

These are some of the things going through my mind. And, as all you bloggers know, there comes a point where you can't be arsed to sit down and write a blog post. Unless of course you're an intellectual like The Auf, then you can write and talk endlessly about world politics and brainy things.

So, in a random way, here are some odds and sods that have been happening and have caught my eye and also a few snippets I've been up to.

Two new blog related things have grabbed me. Firstly, perhaps secondly but I'm going to write about it first, there's Drama Queen with her poignant and constructive initiative. I can best describe it as a campaign to increase awareness of the amount of violence against women in Sri Lanka. DQ tells us, and I have no reason to doubt her but can't verify the fact myself, that sixty percent of women in Sri Lanka have suffered from some form of domestic violence in their homes.

Yes, you read it right. Sixty percent!! That's almost six out of ten. Seriously it's a statistic that disappointed me yet, when I thought about it, didn't surprise me. Life shouldn't be like that and you too can do something about it. There's a Facebook group here that you can join or you can get in touch with DQ on her blog. The chances are that you probably know her anyhow. Do it. Or DQ'll come round and bust your balls and smother them in fish.

On the lighter side of life Naz Sansoni, one of Dominic Sansoni's daughters, has started a new photoblog. It's called "An Image a Day" and it pretty much does what it says on the tin. I've seen these people doing 365 images in a year and whatnot. My own version is called "A few photos put up on various social sites throughout a year or so" and seems to be taking off nicely.

Naz's new place depicts photographs of random things that go on in her life, much of which is Barefoot centred. There are people, places, things and baths. If a photoblog could be classed as honest then this would be one. Why? I dunno really, it just strikes me like that.

SL2G, the diasporic group I told you about, held our Talking Pictures photo event a couple of weeks ago and it was a resounding success. Attendance was, well like, huge and a good, yet I hope meaningful, time was had by all. In a matter of mere days we'll have a Flickr site and more info up online to show you what happened and exactly what The Auf really looks like. You'll love the first bit and be scared at the second.

I've been mamboing. My new drum tutor has moved me into the Latin arena, which sounds a bit gladiatorial but isn't at all. The mambo has been the first Latin groove to suffer at the hands of the RD drum skills. If you turn up at RD Towers any evening you're likely to hear the sounds of Tito Puente's Japan Mambo with me attempting to drum along with any one of the about eight different mambo patterns I'm learning.

It all sounds a bit like a bull in a china drum shop at the moment but progress in these things is always slow and sure but enjoyable. Tito Puente, were he still alive, would be turning in his grave and demanding to be let out. Then he'd go straight round to my place and beat seven shades of shit out of me. Then I'd dress up as a woman and get in touch with Drama Queen and tell her all about it. Then she'd go round to his place and beat the crap out of him after smothering his balls with fish. Then he'd be sorry. I'm doing my best after all.

Tomorrow, possibly today if you're reading this tomorrow, I'm test driving a new car. I won't tell you what it is yet as things are a bit uncertain. But the test drive is going to start with me taking my bass drum out of my current car and seeing if it will fit in the new one. If it does, then we move onto step two. Then the further steps, involving things like discovering I can't afford it but figuring what the hell I'll buy it anyhow. It's exciting, yet sometimes I wish I were a lead singer who only ever had to worry about remembering a microphone stand and perhaps a tambourine or two.

The gym is my new friend and I go there about two or three times a week, sometimes even doing some exercise there too. There's one weird blonde girl who always seems to be there when I am. I thought this was strange until I realised that she could be saying exactly the same thing about me.

That's about all I can think of. Oh yes, the mindmap experiment continues with eagerness and interest. I think it's improving my enjoyment of day to day life, something I must class as a positive thing.

I feel the beginnings of manflu coming on. There's nothing more serious but I'll do my best to fight off a full scale attack of the much dreaded illness. I'll leave you with a bit of advice; if you buy tickets for a dinner at a literary festival then try not to arrive an hour late and expect to be welcomed as if you're Jesus himself returning to play in goal for FC Barcelona.

Laters all

RD x

I'll Show You Mine....

If you show me yours.

According to the Right Honourable Cerno we all have to put up our first blog post. If he says we have to do it, then that's what we do.

And a happy fourth blogoversary to the esteemed man.

So, here's mine.

Fuck me, I'm nearly five.

Come on then, let's see yours.

"Give me time - and we'll see what comes of this."

Mapping The RD Life

Allow me to set my stall out. I'm a great fan of mindmaps. It's not that I've got all their albums, have seen them live a million times and fantasise about them doing things to me in the night. No, that's Thin Lizzy, Thin Lizzy and Jennifer Aniston and Britney (from her great Slave 4u days of course) respectively.

Though, truth be told, I'm getting increasingly worried about our Jen's looks as she moves into her forties. Some people are like wine and leather and age well, with the advancing years giving them a worn in and glamorous rugged look. I like to think of myself like that, it's such a shame other people don't.

Other people get older and we find their features that used to be cute and sexy becoming ugly and prominent. I worry about MR's moustache in this context and I fear for Jen, whose chin is taking on the proportions of a small continent, perhaps a large country. She's still one of the few women to hold a position high enough in the RD ranking to still have her own tag in my sexy moving tag cloud, so all is not lost.

In fact, having looked at the details, I can tell you that the only other women to currently have their own tag are T, (though it's called Dance in a Triangle), Darwin, G12, Lady Divine, The Missing Sandwich and the much missed Soixante neuf. Oh and of course Dinidu de Alwis has her own one too! There's a tag called "girls", not for random girls but specifically for A and K.

I reckon that I should probably create one for C, certainly after writing this I should. And Naz Sansoni deserves one for sheer number of mentions.

So I was telling you earlier about my love of mindmaps, which probably deserve a tag as well. I'm never going to be a world champion mindmapper, for I don't follow the strict rules as outlined by the esteemed Mr Buzan. I don't use colours, I don't use symbols, though being a drummer I do use cymbals (badoomtish!) and I put circles around each thing I write.

But then again the rules for mindmapping also tell us to develop our own style, so perhaps I'm following the rules to the letter.

I've used them for a few years now and in the past it was mostly as an approach to a project or a way of trying to squeeze a drop of creativity out of me. They're a brilliant way in which to kick something off when I have a load of facts swimming around in my head and don't know where to start or which thing to look at first, as they eliminate the need to think logically and progressively. You can chuck stuff out in whatever order it comes to mind, then order it later.

In parallel to that I've written journals of sorts for the also five or six years. At times they've been proper diaries, when I've spent big chunky KFC large Buiriyani size portions of time writing down my innermost thoughts and emotions, analysing everything to the, sometimes second degree, pretty deep for a man I think you'll agree.

At other times I've not written anything for weeks or months, breaking the diary silence with a quick entry then leaving it for another long spell. There's a certain cruel irony in the whole diary writing scenario that no one talks about; the fact that the more that goes on in your life the more there is to write about. But also, the more that goes on in your life the less time you have to write about it. Alanis could have used lines like that, instead of that shit about being late for your wedding.

Then, when things are quiet, we have loads of time to record our innermost thoughts and actions, we just don't have many.

This lack of time issue prompted me to begin drawing up quick little informative diary type mindmaps each time I visited the motherland. I'd take five or ten minutes to make a quick record of the things I'd done each day. Sometimes, when I was feeling rebellious, I'd leave it for a few days and do a mindmap to cover those few days. Easy peasy.

That new Arcade Fire song is on the radio, I think I'm going to buy the album, just thought I'd share that with you.

Now my latest idea is to do a quick mindmap of every day of my life. What I've been doing is taking a few minutes each morning to record the events of the previous day. The format of a mindmap allows me to go into as much or as little detail about each specific thing as I want to.

C, she who has not got her own tag, says that maybe this will split things down into too much details for me. She might be right. But, a couple of weeks into the venture, it seems to be giving me a slightly positively different view on life, undoubtedly a good thing.

Sometimes it empties my head. Yes, yes, I know there's not a lot to be emptied. But sometimes it's a way of getting negative things out of my head and onto paper, something that I also found happened with a longhand diary. It's also seems to be making me appreciate things more, I guess the act of writing something down makes this happen.

Also it's a nifty way in which I can look back and recall things that otherwise would have been forgotten. Like all bloggers I go through life thinking, often saying to fellows that I "must write a blog post about that", then promptly forgetting about it until the next time the situation crops up. Now I can look back on things and memories are triggered much more easily.

It's an experiment. I'll let you know how things progress and who knows, one day when I'm highly famous and dead, someone might find volumes of spidery RD mindmaps and make sense of the absolute piffle and tosh that goes on in my head. I'm serious there, I was glancing at from a few days ago and I'd written on it that I might be getting tired of Superdry stuff and moving over to Paul Smith. I'd be worried about me if I was a friend of mine.

Enjoy the GLF if you're there.

I'm not jealous, not one bit.

Thirty First Night

Hello Reader,

It seems fitting and appropriate, though a good Thesaurus will probably tell you that the two words have the same meaning, that I write the last post of the noughties while sitting in the garden cafe at Barefoot. It's almost 2PM and the place is buzzing with people; a wealthy mix of tourists and Sri Lankans who have returned for the festive season. There is of course the traditional white bloke in a sarong, going through the whole trying to look cool and relaxed whilst desperately hoping it stays up thing.

I've been doing all sorts of things. I had my first ever trip to the Dutch Burgher Union the other day, for a wedding reception. It was a blast, with C putting in a rare appearance in a rather short and head turning dress. Dominic Sansoni, who more or less runs the DBU singlehandedly, was startled by the sight of C's legs so much that he was thinking of changing the constitution to include a minimum dress length for women.

The morning event saw yours truly cut a rather elegant dash in a very British suit and tie. I felt like a twat in the heat, every sensible chap wore a loose fitting shirt and nice airy trousers while I roasted so much that at one point I nearly loosened my tie and undid the top button. I maintained my dignity though, as I felt as if I was representing the Brits and needed to show some stiff upper lip stuff.

It's my first time ever in Sri Lanka during the Christmas season and I'm observing and absorbing as much of the detail as I can. I'm amazed at the heaviness of the decorations everywhere, that certain lack of subtlety looms large in the Sri Lankan approach to Christmas trees and lights. The outside of my hotel, the one on the lake, looks like the result of a traffic accident involving the Hi!! magazine graphics designer and a huge truck on its way out of the white light bulb factory.

The buzz around what people are going to do tonight is tangible and mounting. Every hotel and venue is getting ready, putting up stages and decorations and getting staff and fixtures in place for the big night. I've wanted to experience a 31st night here for years and finally get to do it. Mine and C's choice is to head over to this thing at Park Street Mews. It's a bash with bands, DJs, dinner, breakfast and a good crowd of friends, so should be fun with a capital g.

There are more stories to tell, particularly the tale of Java and the missing crisps, but time has got the better of me and I'll leave you with wishes for a good New Year, whatever you're doing in whichever country.

Somewhere in Kingston there's a sixteen year old having a few friends round to her Dad's apartment while he holidays in Sri Lanka. You've got to wish that Dad a lot of luck haven't you!!

See you in the next decade.

You Scumbags!

You maggots.

You cheap lousy faggots.

Happy Christmas to everyone who's read, commented and been a part of the great thing that is the Lankanosphere.

I wish you peace, prosperity, love and everything you wish for yourself and your loved ones.

See you in London or Lanka.

RD x

Lately In The Lankanosphere

Yes, it's back. It's been a long time since the last "lately" post in these parts, mostly because there just hasn't been much in the Lankan blogosphere that's caught my reading eye. Most of my regular reads have gone quiet or now prefer to splash out quick 140 character tweets or Facebook status updates, usually saying how much they hate Facebook's latest look, instead of sitting down and putting the effort in to write sntces + wrds tht arnt abbrvted.

Many of these former bloggers are so outrightly selfish that they concentrate on their own lives, never thinking about the enjoyment of us, their readers. And Kottu has morphed into more of an aggregator than it ever used to be. Say what you like about fixing the most read lists but there used to be a sense of interaction and community on Kottu that's no longer there. It's become like a band that have split up but get back together now and again to do a tour just for the money.

And then this week there was a shift in the Earth's vibrations, a sneeze in the Lankanosphere and my interest was captured.

First Java Jones whacked one out. Then he wrote a post. There are many blogging youngsters who are unaware of the legend that is Java Jones, of his widespread influence among many of us, not to mention that he's a cat only matched in coolness by TC. Or Huggy Bear, but he's not a cat. As a young up and coming blogger all those years ago I'd read Java's posts and wish I could write with his fluidity and sheer fucking sense of craziness. They tell me that copious amount of drug taking helps with this.

These days JJ has semi retired and spends most of his time living in the hill country. He blogs only occasionally and spends the majority of his time practicing the vuvuzela. He's one of only a handful of professional vuvuzela players in the world and is a first call session player for most of the world's top gigs. He'll deny it though, he's humble and bashful like that. You thought it was a saxaphone at the beginning of Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street didn't you? Well it's not, it's JJ, doing his vuvuzela thing.

His post is only a brief one, on his thoughts on the Wikileaks cable saga, but worth its weight in gold and it got my attention immediately. I urge you to check it out and comment demanding that he writes more.

Then Dramaqueen, usually as elusive as a huge big invisible and soundless monster who's decided to have a game of hide and seek, decided to spurt out not just one, but four posts, all in one day. Somewhere in there lurks a joke about four poster beds. I wish I was wittier, as you do probably. About me I mean, not about you. You probably think you're quite funny as it is.

The thing about DQ is that she's funny, in a slightly animal loving and sensitive way. I can imagine that an evening with her, involving drinking games and farting would be incredibly good fun, until the point that an innocent fellow cracked a joke about killing cats or breeding Christmas trees for commercial reasons. Then all hell would break loose and the farting would stop.

Grab yourself a few minutes and read her posts, my favourite is this one, the story of her first full body massage. (insert smutty joke here......) Any girl who can write about farting gets my vote every time.

DD also came out with a quickie. His blog isn't one I find easy on the eye, what with its various adverts blaring out at full volume all the time, but I'm always keen to read his perusings. The latest one is entitled the £600 haircut and it's about, well a £600 haircut. At first glance I saw the opening picture of him and assumed that he was showing us the "before the haircut" situation.

"Not a problem" I thought, a decent hairdresser should be able to tidy up that mess and do great things with it. I read on and, without giving too much away, I'll only say that I hope DD got a receipt!

Also catching the RD eye lately has been this new blog called I am. I've mentioned it before but it deserves another shout. It's an eye and earcatching combination of images and narrative, all about Sri Lanka's regional identities, told through the eyes of some highly thought provoking characters.

Dominic Sansoni himself told me the other day that it's much, much harder than it appears to put images and sound together and come up with something so special. I noticed that he was talking to his mouth was actually making the movements for the word before the one I was hearing. So it must be true then. Check it out and see for yourself.

Groundviews has gone to the shops and got itself a sexy new look for the festive season. I must admit that I can't figure out if the logo is new or if it's always been there, but I wonder if Sanjana, at the merest hint of a rights violation, rushes into a phone box, does a spin and emerges with a T shirt with the GV logo on, some extra fast slippers and his pants on the outside. Actually, as I think on it I realise that's how he was dressed last time I met him anyway. Presumably he must have been rushing to an emergency.

This post by Michael Meyler tells us Suddhas about the word "goday". I just wish I was able to pronounce it correctly without you guys looking puzzled and then laughing at me once you realise what I'm attempting to say. The esteemed Mr Meyler tells us that the nearest word to "goday" in contemporary English s the word "naff".

With the utmost respect to him I disagree. I reckon it's "chav" or "chavvy". Just ask the Auf, he'll back me on this. And talking of the Auf I've heard it on good authority that there may be a little bit of Auf love in the air. I won't tell you who's involved but let's just say that myself and Pseudorandom are currently busily writing our speeches.

The Indi.ca channel has been particularly busy of late. He points out in this post that the noughties is almost over. The fact had escaped me until I read it. Bloody hell, that's another decade gone. In my life it's fair to say that it was a pretty big one, how was it for you?

Rajaratarala, him with all the As, published this post, all about eggs, chickens and the possibility of them being imported for the festive season. Clearly it's a chicken egg situation. That's all I have to say on the matter.

That's pretty much it for now. If you want more you know where to look. It's ever so slightly awash with posts on how to make your blog look like a Christmas tree, film reviews or out of focus pictures taken on someone's mobile of Murali dancing at a party but, once you filter through all of that stuff, there are some gems to be found.

As they say in France, this isn't goodbye, just bonjour.

RD

I Don't Do I Don't Do

I like the English language. I like the Singlish language too, maybe because that's one way in which my cultures come together and mix with all the ease of oil and water.

But I can't claim to be a fan of the things the Americans have done to English. They change things for no apparent reason, they simplify things that never needed simplifying and complicate things that were nice and simple in the first place.

What was so wrong about a lift that it became the four syllable mouthful of "elevator"? Why did our good sturdy pavements change into sidewalks and, the most troubling of the examples for sure, why did an arse trade places with an ass and confuse the hell out of donkey fans and arse kickers everywhere? Can you imagine the confusion if you lived in the US and wanted to hold an arse kicking party?

My most recent gripe is the continued unnecessary use of the phrase "I don't do...".

I was listening to a radio programme, or should that be program, the other day. There was a jokey feature in which the roving reporter had to go on a rollercoaster and sing a song, for the listeners to guess the song and win prizes galore.

The presenter introduced the feature, sensationalising it as they always do, and added that it was extra hard for the reporter to have done because "you don't do rollercoasters do you?"

I hate this fucking phrase, really I do. It's grammatically incorrect, it's overly dramatic, it's almost always factually incorrect and I believe it's jumping on that very American obsession about being obsessive. Everyone these days has to be "a little OCD" about something.

In my day it was perfectly acceptable to decide not to like rollercoasters much. We felt no compulsion to make all our dislikes into major psychological disorders, ones that Miley Cyrus and the cast of Glee all have.

I was at home with K the other day and making dinner. I asked her to chop some onions. Her response?

"Oh Dad, do I have to? Only I don't really do knives"

"You what?" I said, while screwing up my face in that confused, puzzled and disbelieving Dad look.

"You don't do knives?" I asked.

"No I just don''t like them" she replied.

I shook my head with exasperation, then I chopped the onions, that's how annoyed I was.

I was chatting to David Blacker the other day and the subject of pants came up. That's pants in the proper British way of underwear, not the American trouser thing. I told DB about the recent tremendous pants I've bought, the extra strong ones in Odel. His response?

"I don't do pants"

I frowned and then listened to his rather sad and poignant explanation.

Apparently when he was a young lad he was assaulted in the pants section of House Of Fashions by a gang of middle aged Muslim women. They stole his packet of cigarettes and his membership card for The Library, that nightclub in the Cinnamon Lakeside, though it was of course called the Transasia in those days. He's never fully recovered and so, to this day, never wears pants. If you see him just have a quick grope if you doubt me.

Keep all that to yourself though won't you.

Bloody Americans.

That's why I don't do I don't do.

Search Me

Once in a while I like to peruse the statistics, or stats if you're American, for my blog. It's interesting to look at the words and phrases people have typed into their search engines that have led them to these parts, it often throws up some surprises and never ceases to makes me laugh.

One of my biggest claims to fame, in life in general, is that I'm the number one match if you search for "Elephant House Cream Soda". Well, I am on the UK Google site but have been relegated to third on the Sri Lankan one. And curiously, like many bloggers whom I've seen comment on the phenomenom, I get a good few hits from people searching for sex related phrases that I'm not aware I've ever written about.

Here's the recent top five, finishing off with a number one that I think you'll agree is quite possibly the funniest search term ever:

5. "Condoms in Colombo" - Well it's not funny per se, but it gives me a feeling of pride to know that my blog might be giving advice to hapless fellows looking for raincoats in Serendib.

4. "Sri Lankan big boob young girl" - No, I don't know why. Puzzling, slightly strange.

3. "Why do hairdressers wear black?" - What sort of a person needs to search for the answer to this question? In fact what sort of a person needs to ask it in the first place. Just to clear things up it's so the hair doesn't show up all over the hairdresser's clothing. Fuckwit.

2. "Peeing in urinal for long time" - This is a chin scratcher of the highest order. So some bloke goes into a public urinal, pees for a long time then googles the matter to see why? Or is it another chap who witnesses the event and wonders why it's happened? Perhaps it's a curious woman, trying to find out the secrets of men, the things we do in a urinal. Which is just to pee really, unless of course you're name is George and you used to be in Wham.

1. "Rearranged furniture and dog crapped everywhere" - I don't need to patronise you with narrative about this and why it's so funny. But I will. Imagine what I think can be the only explanation for this. Some random bloke decides to move some of his furniture around a bit. No way was this a woman, I don't know why, that's just the way it is. He puts his settee over there, the chair over here and turns the coffee table ninety, perhaps eighty five degrees.

Then, on his return from a hard day's work, probably at a furniture shop, perhaps a pet store, he discovers that his dog has taken a dislike to the new arrangement and crapped everywhere. So, he googles the situation and ends up reading about Sri Lanka, some drummer bloke and his mad daughters.

Brilliant. Totally.

Lately In The Lankanosphere....

You know what? It's been almost six months since I last did one of these. Sorry about that, I blame it on the sad loss of my moving tag cloud, which has now been resurrected, thanks to the Goddess like Amanda Fazani and her highly advanced huge big massive brain.

What's been going on in these months? Well in life there have elections of the Presidential and Parliamentary variety. Much to the surprise of, well, no one really, MR won everything, though he failed to win first prize in the under ten section of the Petersham Flower show in 1976. Oh yes, that was won by me, for my balsa wood ship.

On the Lankan blogging side things have been subdued. I've been pondering on the future of blogs quite a bit and have a draft post about the matter soon to be finished, but it's clear that the old favourites now surface sporadically, a word I rather like to use. Sporadically.

Indi has abandoned the popular post feature on Kottu and the message at the time told us that it was because of misuse. In all honesty I wonder if this has has an effect on the Lankanopshere, at least the element of it that's listed on Kottu. Misuse and click abuse, assuming those are what Indi referred to, are bad, evil and false but Kottu lost a bit of interactivity and a certain sense of friendly competition when those "most popular" posts and blog things went.

I guess that no one has been able to come up with a workable suggestion as an alternative, which might be a huge help to Indi. It certainly seems that Kottu is a bit of a list of blogs these days, too objective for some? Pray tell, what do you think on this?

And talking of the Kottumeister, well he's been off travelling for a bit and has regaled us with some fascinating observations and stories of his adventures. However, I was blown away by one of Indi's pictures, this one here. Check it out, it's special, one of those that makes me feel all excited. On the writing side this post, on Sri Lankan driving made me chuckle like it's going out of fashion and smile in that patronising way, the way we all smile when we spot white people in their van on their way from the airport and see the look on their faces as they witness Lankan roads for the very first time.

Drama Queen, or DQ or Hissyfits, whichever moniker she likes, has been back and as funny as ever. Her post here gives us mere mortals some helpful and brilliant advice on how to deal with the trials and tribulations of everyday life. Among other things she suggests we fight, drink, become a nun, see a psychiatrist, poo or do any mixture of them. Read the post if you want to laugh.

Darwin, probably the best parasitologist I know, has finished her thesis and is sort of enjoying the freedom. Good luck for tomorrow Darwin!

Lady Divine, who recently won the much coveted Blog of the Year award in that highly prestigious awards ceremony, has just celebrated her twenty sixth birthday and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Her mother has been doing her utmost to marry her off but our LD has resisted bravely and is still with us in the world of single people.

And on the same day The Auf, that legendary figure who even Chuck Norris admires, celebrated four years of blogging. It seems that May 3rd is a celebratory day all round. I've had the privilege of getting to know The Auf recently and he truly is one of life's deep thinking but nice fellows. I reckon I could take him in a fight though.

Makuluwo continues to churn out funny posts in her unique style on a regular basis. This post about writing is particularly good but you can pick any one of her nuggets and be sure to get a good dose of hilarity out of it.

T, the Dance In A Triangle T, not the other one, has been getting used to life back in the US of A, but also delving into her memory banks and giving us some stories of her travels in Sri Lanka. This postlet contains some photographs that have captured the Sri Lankan light brilliantly. The bluer than blue skies and the warmth of that sun just seem to shine through. Then there's this post, with its picture of what must surely be the best named Police post in the world. I might ring them just to hear the way they answer the phone.

Of course in recent months the Lankanosphere has been filled with posts on politics, Generals, Presidents and the like. I won't tell you much about them, on the one hand because it all seems so in the past now, on the other hand because you've probably read the ones you wanted to.

It's a bit old but this post by Serendib Isle caught my eye big time. I actually disagree with SI's take on the matter but he's one of those mature bloggers who I always feel I can disagree with without running the risk of falling out or entering into a war of (swear) words and insults about my mother and heritage in general. The graph he has included is very thought provoking and, for me, one of the biggest things it shows is that Sri Lanka's level of corruption is pretty damn high whichever way you look at it or whoever you ask.

There have been a lot of new blogs hitting the Lankanosphere and frankly most of them have been unimpressive in my humble O. There is one that grabbed me by the proverbials as I was doing my usual morning routine of pretending to be doing important stuff at work whilst actually reading blogs. It's this one, called Shooting Up The Place, by a fellow called Geeshan.

He tells us that he's a photojournalist and by golly he really is. The Lankan blogosphere is rife with chaps who can narrate a damn fine story, some even as wittily as myself, and even rifer with other geezers who can paint with light and some glass and some bits with Nikon or Canon stamped all over them. But it's rare to find someone who can do both and Geeshan is one of these examples. Or two of them.

I might be biased for I've always been a sucker for a decent picture set against a black background. Check his stuff out for yourself though, I guarantee you'll like it too. I'll be checking into his blog regularly.

And those are the ones that have captured my imagination lately. Click on the links, peruse the blogs, leave lots of comments on them and argue with people in a polite non name calling fashion. If you want more then set your browser to warp factor Kottu and explore there.

RD

PS - I've just been told that my first prize in the 1976 Petersham Flower Show under ten section is "being investigated". Damn, I knew it wouldn't last. Some bloke with a big moustache has complained that the ballot was rigged or something.

The Sound Of A Drummer

"You could write a book" they all told him.

And "they" all seemed genuine and sincere when they said it. They figured he was being modest and bashful when he said he couldn't. They didn't understand him like he did, which was obvious really as they weren't in his head, listening to the voices.

He devoured the written word like a fat white tourist at a five star hotel buffet on the first night of his holiday, one with a yellow all inclusive wrist band and as much alcoholic drinks, though locally brewed only, as he could manage.

The more he read, the more he realised how hard it is to write. Paradoxically, the more he realised how hard it is, the more he thought he might someday be able to do it. He knew he had a hat, a funny one, not like a clown's one either. It was the hat he wore to look at life; quite shallow and with a tendency to make him laugh at the most inappropriate times.

He was never the sort of person who could see the funny side to a serious situation and then maintain an earnest and solemn face on the exterior while cracking up with laughter on the inside. Over the years he'd developed a half smirk, half lip biting, half I don't know much about fractions faraway look that only succeeded in convincing strangers that he was in deepest thought and fighting off a sneeze and the second coming of his lunch at the same time.

Everyone else, the people who knew him, would see that look and know there was a joke, sometimes even a funny one, on its way. Overall, was a bummer. He'd never make it as a spy, a drug smuggler, a conman or a politician.

He had friends who could write. The ex soldier friend could take a picture and paint it with words to make it more vivid and more poignant. The Gypsy could write with language so deep and full of feeling that the reader felt like they're swimming in a pool of words, immersed, bathing and splashing about in them, never drowning but often swallowing a mouthful or two of the delicious and refreshing water.

All writers are rich with inspiration and he had that by the bucketload. The passions were clear; his kids, Sri Lanka and music. He had C, who made him feel as though he could do anything. He'd be happy to spend all of his time with them, talking about them, talking to them, just being, just doing. Yet there was a problem, that spark of creativity, the one that all real writers had, was missing.

He knew he could take an average story from yesterday and turn it into something humorous, not because of any great talent, just because he always saw things in that light. The thing he couldn't do was to look at tomorrow and create a story out of nothing. Imagination, they called it.

After all the years of reading, admiring, envying and wishing it hit him, like a sledgehammer flying out of a cave in the dead of the night.

Those authors he admired so much, the writers with the imagination and creativity. Well all they did was to write about themselves, their own experiences and the things they'd seen in their day to day lives. They invented characters, plots and adventures, heroes and villains but really they were the things and people they'd seen and lived through.

All he had to do was write about his own life, ideally in the third person.

Hmmm...... perhaps it just might work. Maybe he could try a short story as a start.

But what would he come up with, how would it begin and where would it go?

How about a little thing about what he was thinking, what the voices were saying?

No, that wouldn't work. Would it?

It's Been A Long Time.....

Well hello there. I haven't written a blog post for what seems like ages, but what is, in reality, about a week.

You'd think that I'd have an abundant flow of ideas for highly interesting and humorous posts, all the things you know me for, and be itching to get back to LLD and regale you with them. Sadly no, I've only got five, maybe thirty nine if pushed, ideas and none of them have even hatched into eggs yet, let alone draft posts.

There's an ongoing saga of K and what looks to be her first boyfriend. Should I tell you all about that or should I keep quiet? If I tell you I can guarantee you'll chuckle more heartily than a heart specialist at Apollo when he writes out his invoices for the week. But, there's the risk of K finding out about the post at some point in the future and then she might kill me. Or worse, she might give me a lot of grief. Not just any grief, I mean teenage girl toward her Dad grief, officially classed as the third wost type of stroppiness in the world.

What are the other two types RD? I hear you bellowing. Well the first is what's known as ex wife about a year before you separate grief. It's not nice, take it from me. Obviously the worst grief to face is something I'm reluctant to mention and put out in the universe. Even though my own one is floating around in Sri Lanka at the moment I know that these things can travel and hit a fellow right between the eyes when he's least expecting it.

Yes, at number one is Sri Lankan mother grief. PG Wodehouse wrote about aunts as the epitome of scariness, all well and good but he didn't have a Sri Lankan mother. Which would also explain why he wasn't called PG Samarasinghe and his first name wasn't Peter and everyone called him by his nickname of Panky. Or didn't call him by that name, you know what I mean.

In general it's fair to say the RD jury's currently considering its verdict on whether to tell you about K's adventures with the opposite sex yet. Well, the one boy, not that I want to even consider adventures, but, as a chap who used to be a boy, I can well imagine what adventures a fourteen year old kid might want to go on.

Reading. The act of, not the nondescript town not too far from here.

I've been enjoying the new Kindle, the e reader I told you about, big time. I look at the debates about e readers and e books with a sense of smugness. I've noticed that people who have an e reader rarely get involved in these arguments. We just get on with reading our devices and any of the many hundreds of books we can cart around with us everywhere we go. People who haven't got an e reader talk about the smell of books, the colour and the fact that e books will never replace proper books.

I agree with them wholeheartedly. But I don't think e readers are there with the aim of replacing paper books. I like both. But, fuck me, and I mean it, though not in a sexual sense, an e reader is such a fanfuckingtastic way to read fiction, as long as it hasn't got the Thompson Twins and a few Sansoni photographs involved.

And, on the matter of reading, I've started to read the Guardian. It's a newspaper, a slightly left of centre one. After more than twenty years of being a Times, sometimes an Independent, man, I've switched allegiances. Why? It's more fun, it's as simple as that. I reckon I've got to a certain level of maturity in which I'm nearly capable of filtering out opinion from fact.

Next week I'm off to Barcelona with C. This is seriously exciting, a load of firsts together. Our first flight together, my first time ever in Spain to name two of them. I've been practicing saying all the English words but adding a phlegmy throaty sound from the back of my throat. I'm told that's pretty much the basis of the Spanish language. If in dire linguistic straits I'll just shout, that usually does the trick.

And I booked a summer holiday for me and the girls. We're Serendib bound and I can't wait.

That's my news, I promise to write and tell you about it very soon.

RD

The 2009 Lankanosphere Awards - The Closing Ceremony

I suppose we've got used to these awards in the last couple of weeks and it would be unfair to just finish things without a little round up and a word or two of thanks.

So, here are the categories for this year's awards and the winners:

1. First up, hence the number 1, was the best overseas blog. Beating off the competition with a stick and emerging victorious was JapSach with Just About Anything. My sincere thanks to Tiger Woods for his kind bit of guest judging in this category.

2. The Best Newcomer - Won by Chavie for See Chavie Run, his rather eclectic mix of a blog. Thanks to Indi for the guest judge duties and responding at such short notice.

3. The Fashion Police Are Coming For You Award - A new category this year, one that may or may not return next year. It all depends on the availability of suitable candidates. It takes a special person to be nominated for this one let alone to walk away with the first prize. This year that special person was Sanjana, with this footwear related fashion crime. Guest judge Java Jones gave us some privileged insider information on Sanjana's tastes. He's kind like that.

4. The Innovation Award - Another new category, won by the man himself, Cerno for his Top 100 Sri Lankan blog post book project idea. Everyone agreed on this one and we hope it might still see the light of day at some point. Guest judge David Blacker is to be thanked for the speech and also for putting up with me asking him endless questions about Sri Lankan life on FB chat.

5. Best News and Current Affairs - New category number three. The motherland is nothing if not interesting and news and current affairs are a reflection of the huge diversity of opinions, political views and mindsets that exist, when they're allowed to. The winner here was DBS Jeyaraj and thanks go to another intellectual heavyweight for the guest judging, Ms Britney Spears.

6. Best Photoblog - With Sri Lanka being as picturesque as she is no Lankanosphere awards would be complete without a photoblog group. Us diasporic types must spend many hours gazing longingly at the fantastic photoblogs as we sit in our respective places, as differing as they are, and become united with our pining for Sri Lanka. This year's winner was the London based Aufidius with Tableaux of Aufidius, his pictorial gallery of light from all around the world. The master himself, Dominic Sansoni, looked at the goings on and wrote some nice words.

7. Funniest Blog - This year, it has to be said, the number of candidates was disappointing but, the standard wasn't. The winner was Makuluwo with Cerebral Ramblings, a blog funnier than one of those youtube clips of old people falling over on ice. Seriously. Guestingly judged by DQ, my own personal comedic hero, well apart from PG Wodehouse.

8. Best Written Blog - One of the real big boys of the awards and carried away by everyone's favourite Gypsy, the Bohemian one. Our Gyppo faced some really stiff and brilliant competition and emerged triumphant. Or should that be triumphantly, I'm not sure. I was rather delighted to rope in Ashok Ferrey as the guest judge here and he had some highly complimentary things to say of all the candidates, high praise indeed. Thank you Mr Ferrey.

9. Blog Of The Year 2009 - The fourth winner of this, the most coveted award was our good Lady Divine for A Glimpse of Lady Divine's World. Last year she was nominated but didn't win, this year she grabbed the title and ran away with it, a bit like a shoplifter in Majestic City to be honest. She joins the roll of honour alongside Darwin, Cerno and The Missing Sandwich. I managed to tempt TMS out of blog retirement, just for a few minutes at least, to write her guest judge speech for this one too.

So there you have it, another year over, a new one just begun.

Thank you for reading and keeping up with the proceedings.

Thank you to all the judges for their input and for putting up with me hassling them, asking for a speech, then saying that I need it in about four seconds time.

And lastly thank you to all the bloggers whose blogs I continue to enjoy and have made my little connection to Sri Lanka so much stronger in recent years. I think I'll take a break from blogging for a few days. Nothing dramatic, just a short one. I always think I'll do it and never do, let's see how long I last before I'm slapped in the face with that urgent need to tell you something.

Have a good weekend all.

RD

The 2009 Lankanosphere Awards - The First One - Best Overseas Blog

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome officially to this, the fourth annual Sri Lankan blogging awards. It's all just a bit of fun, presided over by me and a smattering of guest judges, some of whom are real and some whose input is just that little bit made up.

The awards are broadly based on the blogs listed on Kottu, the first port of call for most people seeking Lankan and Lankan related blogs in. I don't understand Sinhala so sadly need to exclude blogs written in the language as well as those in Tamil. Sorry about that, but I blame my parents.

The best overseas blog is seen from the perspective of Sri Lanka being the home base as such. In other words it's for the best blog written and published from outside Serendib. Previous winners have gone on to, well, nothing really.

The esteemed nominees are:

1. Mahasen does blogging - This gentleman, a Mr Mahasen Bandara, lives in the US and is a vegetarian. Apart from those obvious faults he's responsible for a very delicious and eclectic blog. His photography is usually spectacular, sometimes a bit better than that, and whether it's people or landscapes, Lankan or American the pictures make me feel those butterfly things. Which is good. He writes about politics, life and things in general, sometimes in Sinhala but mostly in English.

2. Just About Anything - Or JapSach's place as most of us call it. JapSach is a bloke, called Sach who currently lives in Japan, though I don't know how he got that nickname. For a few years he's regaled us with anecdotes and observations about his life in the land of the rising sun. He tells us of the trials, tribulations and triumphs of his Japanese existence. My Dad used to have a Triumph you know, he often tells us his tales of riding around Sri Lanka. He's (Sach, not my Dad) also got the coolest clock this side of Colombo Fort. It's not because of the size though, more the quality.

3. Rice and Curry - This blog, by an American Sri Lankan who calls himself Skiz, is a bit of a specialist one, as it's all about food. Skiz travels the world eating things and learning how to cook them. He pays particular interest to Sri Lanka and her food and wears his passion for all things foody on his sleeve. On the negative side he does possess one of those very suspicious looking moustaches as favoured by Sri Lankan Presidents and their rivals. Check out this post, which shows the programme he made with Anthony Bourdain in Sri Lanka. Mmmm....

4. DD - Old DD's heady mix of diasporic yearning, political comment, text and fonts that go all over the show and so nearly make sense at times is infectious and readable in its own strange way.

5. Darwin. - The blog written by everyone's favourite parasitologist and second favourite domestic goddess (after Nigella of course) deserves a mention. Sadly it's only open to invited readers so there's no point including it in the awards. I just wanted to tell you that it's still as good as ever, and gloat a bit that I'm one of the select few. Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh.


With no further ado I'm pleased to announce that the winner, the 2009 Lankanosphere Best Overseas Blog is........








............Just About Anything.



Our guest judge, Tiger Woods, had this to say about Sach and his blog.

"As I travel the world playing golf, living the millioniare lifestyle and sleeping with models and porn stars things can get quite sad and depressing. When they do I always glance at Just About Anything and it cheers me up and puts a bit of joie de vivre back into my day. It's a well deserved accolade and I congratulate Sach from my top secret sex addiction clinic place."

Congratulations Sach, we await your speech.

RD

The 2009 Lankanosphere Awards Are Coming...

No, wait, it's not happening just yet but this is a little heads up to let you know about what's going to be happening oh so very, very soon.

It's that time of the year, the one of that bloke who comes once a year down the chimney. Here at my office we have a twelve inch high moving Father Christmas, not that unusual you might say, and I'd agree with you. The unusual thing is that he's black. I don't know how we got him but I like him and I'm quite proud to be the "keeper" of the chap. He dances too. Anyhow, just thought I'd share that snippet with you.

Things may be a bit quiet around here in the short term as I'm putting most of my effort into the forthcoming 2009 blogging awards. This will be the fourth year that I've done this and it's about as nepotistic and undemocratic as, well any Lankan election could be really. It's hopefully going to be a bit of fun, a chance perhaps to discover some Lankan related blogs that you may not have seen before, to catch up on some that you'd forgotten about.

Sadly I have to exclude blogs written in Sinhala or Tamil, simply because I cannot understand those great languages. It's not something I'm proud of but it is life, or current life. So we're limited to Lankan related blogs published in English. Don't ask me what Lankan related means, as the definition is as fuzzy and complicated as one of Sittingnut's better arguments.

The only other rule, which I might change if I fancy it, is that last year's winners don't win the same title this year. It's potentially a little bit unfair, but I hope that it makes things a bit more varietical (my own word).

This year's awards will see more guest judges and hopefully a little more input from you, which is where we start.

Last year the categories and winners were as follows:

Photoblog - Amila Salgado
I wish I hadn't written that - Dinidu (for his religion post)
Blog of the Year - TMS
Best Newcomer - Kalusudda
Best written blog - David Blacker
Shitloads of comments whenever they post - Voice In Colombo
Best Overseas blog - Dance In a Triangle
Funniest Blog - DramaQueen
Funniest Post - DramaQueen
Legend of the Lankanosphere - Indi

I'm not going to ask you for nominations, though you may want to send some in anyway. I am however, going to ask for your ideas for any new award categories. I've decided to get rid of a couple, namely the funniest post and the I wish I hadn't written that ones. The former gets the big boot because it's too related to the funniest blog awards, the latter goes the way of all previous presidential candidates' promise to abolish the executive presidency because so many people have deleted posts that it's almost impossible to judge.

I have to go now. There are some chaps trying to deliver a red carpet for some awards ceremony. Send your suggestions in please, if you want to nominate a blog for an award don't even think about it unless you write the nomination on the back of a large cheque made payable to me. Or I will accept payment in sex, though not from you Sanjana.

Have a fine week.

RD

A Bit Of A Mystery

Can anyone give me an explanation about this? I was doing a bit of googling and came across it. It's the weirdest thing ever. My work, but not my work.

Please tell me what it is. One of you computerish nerdy types must know surely.

And have a good weekend out there, I'm gigging tonight if anyone wants to come.

Sansoni Al Pacino

It's the time for a quick search term post. A sporadic glance through the stats for my blog always throws up some interesting, some puzzling and some fascinating bits of information. The things people have searched for to get here are no exception.

Here are some recent juicy gems:

1. Psychology for bum wiping.

2. Do people in London wear willies?

3. Audit chat up lines

4. How to do absofuckinglutely nothing forever

5. Are very tight flare jeans gay?

6. Sansoni Al Pacino

7. Mock Wattalapam

8. Sri Lankan Astronaut

And here are some of my thoughts about them:

1. There are people who look into the most everyday things to levels of mad detail. Somewhere there's probably an academic writing a paper on this.

2. Yes, mostly men though.

3. Was this an accountant looking for chat up lines? What would be the accountant's version of Joey's "How you doin?". Perhaps something like "Fancy a bit of double entry?" or "Can I put my column in your spreadsheet?"

4. Why?

5. No, but wear them and people will probably think you are. Though I know DD wears them quite often.

6. Finally they're making a Hollywood epic about the photographer and Al is playing the lead. About bloody time too. Morgan Freeman will be Java and Nimmi Harasgama will play herself.

7. Is this sometime who has a big bowl of wattalapam and wants to tease it mercilessly?

8. Frankly it just makes me smile. All the jokes about the spaceship pulling out in front without indicating, about it needing a horn, perhaps no lights, you get the gist, well they all spring to mind.

What's happening over your way then?