Burggasse Squat!
Hey, here’s the first picture of the Burggasse squatting that took place yesterday.
Archive for March, 2005
“Blaustift, wof
“Blue pencil, for what?”
Surreal self-reflective scribbling deluxe.
Location: Zentagasse 31.
Monpti
Monpti is the mascot of “Sportkindergarten Sylvia Hoffmann”.
a) I always spit around if I try to pronounce the name.
b) It’s an ugly kind of bird.
c) Skate or die.
(Location: 5th district, next to 59A bus station Ramperstoffergasse)
Moving Dinosaurs!
Translation:
The Return of the Dinosaurs!
And they are moving!
Join a time travel trip into a lost world!
Meet the Giants of the Past!
Europe’s largest Dinosaur travel exhibition is coming!
I’m …hmm… looking forward.
Rage against the City
Sometimes you walk through the city, for what reason ever, and something strange happens. it doesnt need to be a bad kind of strange, sometimes a funny one, and then again a weird one.
i was on my way to the camera-photo-guy on my street to get a few pictures developed. annoyingly enough, i was late and the mass of people made me hurry even more. the music i was listening to was fascinating me, since i didnt know when i changed my mp3 list to a disturbing up and down of songs i havent heard in ages. Anyways,
suddenly a Rage Against The Machine song came up, one i didnt remember i even had. i stopped, and looked on the right side, checking how far i would need to go and if i should change the song to something more familiar to me.
and guess what i saw:
righty right, its not Rage Against The Machine, and it is one of those typical shirts for little boys. but boy was i feeling funny. i might have even said something like that. not a little “awww….” more likely something “HOLY BATMAN WTF AND OMG”, considering that a couple of school kids stopped and pointed at me.
anyways,
those things make one’s life more interesting.
and i am fully aware its not that weird.
for me it was though.
so there.
Revolution! Rage Against The Machine City!
(shirt is available for kids only. C&A store)
tv tip
although tv is something I’m not really good at, and even something I mostly can’t stand there is a hint for todays program: elisabeth scharang’s mein m
law and order / insert brain in head
someone once said, “in democracy, everything that’s not forbidden is allowed, in austria, it’s the other way around.” and most of the time, this is frighteningly accurate. but besides this special kind of …
there’s rules and signs for everything in this city, even for things a 3-year old would be able to do and understand on its’ own. but this one i found beats everything i experienced in the last 23 years. it’s a small, innocent sign mounted on a wall above a trash can:
translation: “please put trash in the trash bin.” well, duh. okay, okay, i can see where a sign like this might make sense - for example if you had problems with people who threw their trash in front of the trash can, but then I guess this is the smallest of your problems. but this is not the only sign there. in this little vestibule in a house in the 6th district, there were no less than 3 different info signs besides this one: “please close door properly” on the front door, “please deposit waste paper in the paper bin” above mentioned paper bin, and “please close door properly to avoid draft” above the second door.
mind you, the whole room was maybe 8m2 in size. I guess this adds a whole new dimension to the phrase “obsessive-compulsive behavior”.
Burn, Baby, Burn (2)!
One of my childhood dreams came true! A fireplace! A fireplace! A FIREPLACE! My OWN fireplace! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! The wonderful crackling noise of burning wood! YEEEES!
The oven is finally installed in our new home and I have the offical permission of the Viennese fire department to use it.
I turned an old monochrom art installation…
…into pure kinetic energy!
Did I mention that I love fireplaces?
Burn, Baby, Burn!
Wiener U-Bahn-Zeitung (Viennese Subway Newspaper)
(Click to enlarge. Sorry, German only.)
Thanks to Andreas “Krach” Stoiber!
Air Bulgaria
Air Bulgaria, Office Window, Wienzeile.
