Crime Fightin'

"Son, do you know what I'm stopping you for?"

In every country where I have been stopped by the police (The Netherlands, the US, Bosnia, Romania, the Czech Republic, France and now Switzerland - quite an impressive list, if you look at it like this...) the copper always asks the same stupid question, namely whether I know why he is stopping me. As if they all went to the same police academy, or followed the same sensitivity training.

Tonight is the first night I am seriously thinking of writing some profanity, but since this is rather uncouth, I'll refrain from doing so.

"No, sir, I do not know what you are stopping me for. If I would have know that you were going to, I would have done something differently." Unfortunately I never say that. Nor anything else witty. I usually get my wallet and pay the fine. The damage of today is 140 CHF. Crossing a red light, no lights on my bike and an uninsured bike. Aaaaaaargh. What a waste of money. I could have gone skiing for that amount. I could have bought a goretex hiking shirt. A good pair of sunglasses. An easyjet ticket to a beach. And back.

I will not curse, but my god I am pissed- at myself though......

Food nowadays...

I realize that I am a student when I am studying. Yes, it sounds very deep and profound, but what I mean is: I realize that I am a student when I am studying for my exams. Because I eat worse than I usually do.
My dinner of tonight:
*starter: bouillon from a vending machine;
*main course: microwave pasta;
*dessert: a candy bar.

For someone who got three cooking books for his birthday, and claims to like cooking, this is at best poor, and at worst appalling. When I studied for the first time, which was in the previous century (seriously, I am not kidding. However, it sounds longer ago than it was- only eight (8) years), I lived in a student house with five other guys. We took pride in our meals, in cooking and gaining weight because of that. O tempora o mores! Microwave food is the new 'in'. All my friends do it here. One of them even got a microwave cookbook for her birthday.

I used to laugh when people were talking about the good old days. However, they were not so bad. At least food-wise not.

Anyway, gotta go. Gotta get the pasta out of the microwave. Rcok'n'Roll...