I would like to be one of those people, who really don’t get wet by receiving materialistic stuff, and especially free materialistic stuff. But I do, and I don’t feel bad admitting it.
And though, when you take a look around the enormous blog world, you can find bloggers who suddenly have so many principles about receiving gifts that I could hurl to Mercury. when did it become a crime to get free gifts? and why should we feel bad about being offered it?
let me just say that I don’t accept shit. So if you have a penis-enlarger medicine on the way, and you need somebody to test it, you should stay away from me. I’m not much for penises, but more into dresses and cakes!
Maybe its time to get to the point. My friend Anne Sofie from Evita Peroni asked me if I would like to shop in their online store for 150 dollars, and I immediately said yes. I bought 3 things, which I will show you during this week. Until then you have to settle with this picture with my new, sooooft headband from Evita Peroni. A pretty random picture.
not at all a post-relevant picture, but what the heck…
It’s so funny how the big city sometimes can’t live up to your “big” expectations, and I don’t even think that I’m SO demanding.
My biggest problem right now (or… not problem, but more lack of understanding) is all the fucking fancy coffee shops in Copenhagen. You can find an artzyfartzy coffee pusher on every street corner, which supports poverty by giving maybe 50 cent of every sale to some charity case. They also support the environment by selling coffee in some kind of eco-friendly cup-thingy. And not to forget their “we have the Fair Trade sticker on very single wall in our shop. We are just THAT good”.
And yet not a single one of those fucking shops sells soya or other milk substitutes to us, who are lactose-intolerant!! Yeah, you heard me, mister. NOT. A. SINGLE. ONE!
No, I haven’t been in every “We are human Jesus”-coffeeshops in Copenhagen. But almost. And here comes the funny part. The only shop, which give you the opportunity to drink coffee without risking world war 3 in your intestines, is Baresso. Stupid-not-that-good-coffee-shop, but because you can get soya milk in your coffee, their pathetic excuse for coffee wins my heart. And my intestines.
Its awesome when you have friends, who pulls you up from the grave and punches you into a dream, kicks you in the behind and say “come, jazz (that’s my nickname). now you get yourself together and start living”.
That was what Benjamin did for me. With less kicking and punching though. He’s more gentle, and yet it worked on me. So long story short, or short story even shorter, I had this DJ-dream. You remember? Yasminosaurus Rex? And now, because of Benjamin, I got my first gig with him at Drone – which is a rockin bar on Nørrebro, Copenhagen. But my DJ name is Myrtle Darcy-John though – I’m taking the timemachine back to the 50′s!
So if you by any chance are in Copenhagen, looking for a twist and ready to do the hustle, you should definitely come. And if not, its your loss, mister… or misses… or whatevers!
You can find the event here.