The Perils of Property Rentals

Having been back from my holiday for nearly two weeks now, we've been asked to leave feedback about the villa five of us rented near Lake Como for the remaining three days of our escape. Our stay didn't begin well after my friend's car was scratched by a piece of the garage door perilously tumbling on top of it on arrival. The log fire we'd been looking forward to using was apparently "out-of-action" and for "display purposes only", despite the large pile of firewood in the garage and adverts for the property suggesting to the contrary. We soon discovered the villa's caretaker lived above us and could easily pop in and out as he pleased and after exploring all the rooms, found a seriously disturbing painting:

An even more worrying boxed possession:

And an eerie tunnel running around three walls of the house like something a masked gimp would patrol in a horror film:

It was hardly surprising we initially mistook stacked sun-loungers for a surgical table:

After the paranoia of the first night, the rest of our stay was thankfully smooth-running with restaurant recommendations all proving well-worth a visit, even if other suggested tourist activities were an impossibility during the winter season or a serious let-down.

Having just left mixed feedback, it seemed appropriate to share an amusing survey of holiday home providers I've been sent:

Top Five Most Bizarre Requests

1. A toupee stand - the holidaymaker complained when the owner didn't have one that every respectable beach house should have its own.

2. Hot water bottles in the villa - this was a request made in Costa Blanca for the last two weeks in July when the outside temperature is 24 degrees at night.

3. A pot for the poo - after speaking to the holidaymakers, the owner determined it was a potty they wanted for their three year old child.

4. Are clothes compulsory? - The owner advised that public nudity was banned in Barbados, although they were OK to walk around inside the property naked. The holidaymakers requested that as the owner lived on site, they would expect her to comply with their revealing "dress code" too.

5. A donkey to ride a pregnant bride up a long wooden platform.

Top Five Strangest Items Left

1. Two pet rabbits next to two violins - the owners are still looking after the pets now.

2. A set of surgeon's scalpels - the owners carefully checked every part of the property to make sure there were no hidden body parts.

3. A full roasted pig with head and legs still fully intact left on the breakfast bar.

4. A wedding dress screwed up in a ball left in the master bedroom wardrobe.

5. A whip found on the top shelf of the main bedroom wardrobe (alongside other related items).

I'm now wondering what feedback our chatty Italian left about us and if we left anything comical behind... I hope so!

Web Whispers

Having just spent the last days of my holiday in Italy there were inevitable topical Berlusconi discussions. Mention of Italy's player ex-PM led to all of us collectively admitting we had no idea what “bunga bunga” actually means. Being inquisitive folk, we undertook a quick web search and were delighted with the results.

Rather than finding a definitive answer, google prompted a game of “Web Whispers”, taking us on a magical mystery tour of vaguely related and highly amusing search results. From “bunga bunga” our first stop was “kancho”.

Kancho is the name given to a childish Japanese prank. Wikipedia helpfully describes it as “performed by clasping the hands together so the index fingers are pointing out and attempting to insert them sharply into someone's anal region when the victim is not looking. It is similar to the wedgie or a goosing (also known as “poo-fingering” in some English boarding schools)... A Kancho is often executed simultaneously as the offending party loudly emphasizes the second syllable of "Kan-CHO!":

Although surely likely to lead to sexual harassment charges if attempted in the UK, this bizarre practise is also apparently common in South Korea as “tong chim”, “dong chim” or “ddong chim” (translated as “poop needle”); in the Philippines as "katsibong", "bembong", "bombet", "jempot" or "pidyok" (from the Filipino word "tumbling", meaning “rectum”), in Taiwan where the translation means "I am a rapist" and in Vietnam as "Thông đít" ( translating as "to penetrate your anus").

The Japanese even have a TV game show where a celebrity gets to “Kancho” someone and a South Korean arcade game allows folk to simulate an anal probing. Of course this final discovery led to our next web search, “Boong-Ga Boong-Ga”...

The ever helpful Wikipedia told us: “The object of Boong-Ga Boong-Ga is to score points by spanking or performing kancho on a model of a human posterior embedded in the game's cabinet. A plastic finger is attached to the machine for players to perform the latter.

The game features eight characters players can punish: 'ex-girlfriend', 'ex-boyfriend', 'gangster', 'mother-in- law', gold-digger', 'prostitute', 'child molester' and 'con-artist'. During gameplay, the facial expression of the chosen character is displayed on a monitor.

The game also dispenses cards that rate players on their 'sexual behaviour', and for players who perform exceptionally well the machine will dispense a small plastic trophy in the shape of a pile of faeces.”

Next stop? Yes, you guessed it! Youtube clips of the game:

Alongside a few bizarre clips like the one above, related videos included the following:

Before things unintentionally delved into the downright wrong and potentially illegal, we finally stopped riding the electronic wave but did at least manage to find the below information. Where did we find it? Perceptively you've again guessed correctly...

Wikipedia says bunga bunga was allegedly taught to Silvio Berlusconi by Muammar al-Gaddafi and has recently acquired a whole new meaning, referring to an “orgy involving a powerful leader. Descriptions of bunga bunga disagree on its meaning, or perhaps illustrate the range of its reference. It is said to be a sort of underwater orgy where nude young women allegedly encircle the nude host and/or his friends in his swimming pool; an African-style ritual performed for male spectators by 20 naked young women or an erotic entertainment hosted by a rich host involving pole dancing and competitive striptease by topless skimpy-costumed women in nurses' outfits and police uniforms - the prize being prostitution for the host.”

Actress Sabina Began has proposed an alternative origin for the term, claiming it was a nickname based on her surname and that she'd organized the parties. We'll never know the correct origin but have certainly learnt a few disturbing things along the way!

Everything In Excess

I've lost track of how many Leeds Film Festival Nights Of The Dead I've now been to but every year follows a similar pattern. Before the evening begins I attempt to catch a bit of extra sleep and despite best intentions end up getting less than two hours or unsatisfactory tossing and turning, waking up feeling more exhausted. I take far too many drinks and snacks with me and look like I'm going away for the weekend when I set-off.

Each year starts later than the scheduled midnight start time and gets progressively more delayed throughout the evening – this year finished at 10am. There are always ridiculous competitions between each film led by the same two guys (this year involved a banana eating race) and prizes are not too exciting - generally all courtesy of Travelling Man. Folks religiously bring their worst films to donate to the “Shit Film Amnesty” and the poor bugger whose film gets voted the worst has to take away everyone else's.

Over the years sponsors have changed and a few times the venue but NOTD is guaranteed to sell- out and has become almost more about the vibe than the films with some punters dressing up for the occasion. Loud-mouthed horror enthusiasts shout out remarks and continue to heckle film-makers during Q & As. The same irritating guy shows up every year and from the balcony continues to annoy the hell out of everyone, despite the feelings of other audience members and the presenters being made very clear.

This year was no different. The main four features (Monster Brawl, Little Deaths, Blind Alley, Helldriver) were entertaining but with the exception of Little Deaths, below average. Once again the short films were the most amusing so as I'm away again for a few weeks, I thought I'd keep you busy with a few links to trailers and where possible entire shorts. I decided a few were less worth sharing and sadly couldn't find some but what follows are the cream of the crop:

Tune for Two

Brutal Relax

Banana Motherfucker - trailer

Spoon Wars

Feline Fetishes For Dirty Undies

Still working from home and distracting myself with Major Richard Parker's idiosyncrasies, I'm becoming increasingly jealous of The Boy's pants. In the past I've had a cat with an unhealthy weakness for crisps and witnessed many who seem to have foot fetishes. Like his predecessors, The Major is a keen sniffer of feet and shoes with a tendency to lie across feet when gracing us with his presence on the bed.

More unusually, he's repeatedly taken a shine to The Boy's discarded dirty pants. He first displayed this bizarre and slightly disturbing fetish when climbing into a laundry basket and crowning himself with said item. Since then, I've discovered him many times lain across the floor cradling dirty undies and have actually started to feel a little put out that my own raw human scent doesn't seem to hold the same appeal.

His liking for pants seemed so abnormal I thought I'd Youtube “cat dirty underwear” to see if it was something exclusively enjoyed by The Major. My findings were quite revealing. There are a number of video clips like the one that follows and in many instances the underwear attacker seems to be a ginger cat! Equally intriguing is the tendency for cats to go for same sex underwear.

Waste Not, Want Not

“You must never leave meat on your plate, however full you are, because that's the most expensive part of the meal” - I was brought up with this doctrine and seem to have subconsciously applied it to all aspects of life. I find it very hard to “waste” anything. For days on end I'll consume the same unopened food if it is soon about to pass its use-by-date. I actually lived off the same bland soup for three days for lunch and dinner purely because I didn't want to waste the enormous bumper batch. Throwing out cardboard is also recently a problem – after all we may need it for painting on. So you can imagine properly moving into the flat and down-sizing my belongings was a real problem and a massive job.

It's only now, over a year since we got the flat and three months after I've properly moved in on a permanent basis that things are starting to look more homely. I still have belongings that have been in storage in Kent since going travelling and I'm well aware they'll need a home somewhere one day. In order to make enough space and physically fit my clothes into the flat, we've had to buy an expensive beast-sized Ikea wardrobe and I've had to get rid.

Simply chucking out bags of clothes didn't seem right so we hit the summer boot sale circuit first, discovering there's actually a community of folk who travel round boot sales every weekend – regulars both selling and looking. Since I last did a boot sale to raise festival ticket money at the age of sixteen, they've got somewhat more expensive to take part in – many charge an entrance fee for those looking around and the cost of a pitch seems to have gone up from £5-£12, although charity boot sales based at fire stations remain reasonable.

We managed to part with a sizable quantity of our unwanted belongings at these sales but made little money for the time we spent sitting under-cover in the rain of our glorious British summer. Stacks of boxes continued to litter our spare room and something had to be done. My next step was to invite round any friends to have a good rummage. Although some came and took, the end result was virtually unnoticeable so it was time to try out a friend's recommendation:

www.remadeinleeds.org

Remade in Leeds occurs once a month and for each event allows you to bring up to twenty unwanted items in good condition with you. These items appear on a membership card as credit. You pay a £2 entrance fee and can then browse the rails of clothes others have donated. Whatever you take goes off your credit and any remaining credit can be used at the next event. I've been twice now and have picked up a few items each time so have a huge credit rating remaining to use over the coming year.

Of course the forty items I took to Remade in Leeds didn't do much to clear out the spare room so it was again time for action. As dubious as it sounds I decided to give CashForClothing a call:

www.cashforclothing.co.uk/#/areas-we-collect-in/4539203632

The first time I waited in all day, no-one called round but the second time I was pleasantly surprised by my “earnings”. All clothes and shoes were bagged up ready for one of their collectors to come round to weigh them. I got rid of a load of in-the-way-unwanteds and in the meantime got paid for it and know all items are recycled.

Beyond clothing, we still had the odd bits of furniture to get rid of and a large amount of books. Some had to go to the skip, others to charity shops but some pieces ventured onto Freecycle and soon found new homes. Sites like Freegle and Freecycle are great helping folk to furnish new homes and get bits and bobs you'd rather not pay for. I undertook a slightly pointless trip to Horsforth to pick up coat hangers, feeling like they weren't the kind of thing you actually buy. I'm sure we spent more money in petrol getting there than the hangers would have cost new but for bigger items, collection is probably well worth it.

The books are the last remaining unwanted space-taker we have. I've discovered a monthly book exchange called The Travelling Suitcase so plan to replenish organiser, Jess Haigh's, stocks and perhaps get a few good reads at the same time at her next Cafe 164 meet. And if there's anything left, there will be a final trip to the charity shop.

They say “waste not, want not” and right now this certainly seems to ring true- having gone through this whole rigmarole to rehouse old belongings, I'm not sure I want to restock and prompt a repeat of the whole process.

Butchering The “Prada Of Pigs”

I can barely cut bread straight without making enormous door stop slices or shearing off ugly looking butchered pieces. Tonight I'm publicly attempting to calve jamon in front of a group of strangers. Recently refurbished, La Tasca is launching a new menu and to help spread the word a group of Leeds-based bloggers have been assembled at the Greek Street branch.

We're first fooled into believing it's actually still summer by generously replenished glasses of both traditional and La Tasca's own special Cava Sangria. Originating from the Spanish word for blood and once known as “Red Cup Punch”, Sangria is traditionally made from a brandy base. La Tasca's “traditional” mix shuns this ingredient, instead using a mixture of vodka, Bacardi and orange cointreau pre-made. Of course the normal red wine, lemonade and fruits are then added.

Our barman for the night, Tom, quickly rustles up a Sangria, reminding us pre-made supermarket mixes are readily available and that sugar is a vital ingredient to take-away the bitterness of red Bordeaux wines. He uses the standard 25ml measures but encourages us to up the value once at home.

The Cava version is advertised as using La Tasca's own secret spirit mix but watching Tom's expert cocktail skills, I now know to combine the Cava and lemonade with peach schnapps and blackcurrant liquor. To finish up cranberries are added – unable to soak up alcohol, they attractively float on top, ensuring you get one of your five a day.

Two of the group try their hand at making both Sangria versions before an authentic Spaniard educates us about traditional jamon. Sergio explains Western Spain is best for jamon, siting Extremadura and Salemanca as typical areas where jamon can be found in its natural form, running around free-range munching on a type of acorn. For those of us having trouble deciphering Sergio's accent, Tom clarifies this is not Akon but the kind that grows on trees.

Dubiously but impressively dubbed the “Prada of Pigs”, this jamon leg is hung for 18 months and cured in the normal way, costing a staggering £650 for the leg. Its foot is black, indicating top range meat and “Cerdos Felices” (happy pigs). Bizarrely, we're told the fat is healthy and warned that once we taste it, we'll never eat parma ham again.

Wrapping it around plain tasting crunchy picos bread sticks, we're all in agreement it has a slightly cheesy flavour and it prompts my stomach to growl. Thankfully, we're soon ushered downstairs and treated to a feast of tapas dishes, ranging from the conventional expected chorizo, meatballs and Patatas Bravas to more unusual dishes like pork belly with rosemary infused beans and paprika and garlic chicken wings. Unsure what anything is, I even enjoy sampling fishy dishes, taking on a Montadito de Gambas (toasted ciabatta with smoked pancetta and prawns) and a Pescado Blanco Frito (deep fried white fish in batter with paprika, roasted garlic and lemon mayonnaise).

We're all encouraged to give Come Dine With Me style ratings. Our average is 7.5 so La Tasca must be doing something right. I may not be dumping the parma ham quite yet but I may well return to La Tasca.

The Perfect Ponderous Present

As the festive season draws nearer, we'll all be contemplating presents we'd like to receive and possible gifts for others. Winter is always busy for Birthdays too and as University days have well gone and many of us are pretty skint at the moment, the days of giving and receiving presents to and from friends seem to have passed.

With this in mind, I offer you the perfect economical gift. I found this little beauty in a small Asian newsagents in Leeds down the road from Kirkgate Market. I was instantly taken by its obscurity and preoccupied in guessing its purpose. With this in mind, it seemed like the ideal entertaining but useful present.

I've since given this to four unsuspecting folk and every time it has gone down a treat. The ladies seem to be more accurate judges than the gents and guesses have thus far ranged from a cancerous lung to a bib. What it actually is I 'm not going to reveal. The whole point of this gift is the fun you have guessing and the bizarre conversations it seems to prompt...