Two months ago, by an odd set of circumstances, I schlepped out to the Zürich Flughaven to pick up video maniac Emile Zile, who was making an early arrival in the continent to make the sprites inside the television dance like little monkeys. That evening, Emile, Cornelia, Debbie and I sat on the grass by the river, drinking and beginning what has been an almost non-stop two months of acting like morons every evening.
Most of our asinine behaviour came straight off the small screen, and followed our daily regurgitation of the previous night’s dumb content saturation, going from Zoolander and Team America through to Nathan Barley, Jam, The Mighty Boosh, and finally in the gutter, Beavis and Butthead. But eventually Zürich, which I only came to for three weeks, and has now been five months came to an end. Well, another week for me and Cornelia, but Emile packed his Samsonite and Pelican cases last night and also his famous-but-forgotten-name backpack, and after a final dinner at the local Taiwanese restaurant, jumped on the night train for Rotterdam, several other places, and Christmas in Latvia.
Yes, we were all very sad.