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An unforgettable experience with the Calvisius Caviar Bump
The Bump Bar – California Caviar Company
Sausalito Is Getting an Entire Bar Dedicated to Caviar
what is a caviar bump
what is a caviar bump - win
Build Almost Ready - Ram Question & Check
Hi Folks, I've a build almost ready, but RAM is being an absolute pain in the arse to find in the UK, plus I'm not entirely sure what is the best for my build.** Suggestions on RAM** would be great. Although getting it in the UK appears may be near impossible. The build is for gaming, media editing, and streaming. I know there is an issue with the number of hard drives. I tend to hoard data from old videos etc, and need to clear it out and cut down on the number of drives. The only drive I've actually buying is the 2GB NVME and I might bump that up to clear space. Aside from that, I'm kinda going all out and hoping this will last me some time. PCPartPicker Part List
Solved: There was a stray motherboard mounting screw under the I/O ports. Been there for seven years and just now decided to start fucking with stuff lmao. Having an issue with my PC shutting off when bumped or table it's on is bumped and the power LED on my GPU goes from solid to blinking. Came home Monday to find PC not turning on and the GPU power LED blinking. Opened up the PC and reseated the GPU and it worked fine until I bumped the table my PC is on and it shut off with GPU LED blinking again. Open PC up again and reseat GPU again along with motherboard and CPU power cable. Worked fine again until I again bumped the table and shut off Now I unplug GPU again and leave it out. Take out peripherals(Mouse, Keyboard, Ethernet) GPU to see if PC will turn on this way and it does. However once I start plugging things back in it shuts off. Mouse/Keyboard/Monitor goes in and each time pc shuts off but does turn back on. Still shuts off if table or PC gets bumped. At this point now I've reseated all cables, GPU, and RAM in all configs, with and without GPU, and have reseated the motherboard itself. I've also put in a new PSU and no changes. I have also switched out the GPU with a different one from another PC. My GPU works fine in other the PC, while the other GPU being my PC does same as my GPU being in. PC will turn on without any GPU in all scenarios until it gets bumped. Adding in GPU will get a solid on the GPU LED sometimes but will fail to run on and goes to blinking. Reseating cables or RAM will bring it back to solid but again fails to turn on. The only thing I haven't tried is reseating the CPU as it's the only thing I have not done previously and I don't have any thermal paste to redo the cooler right now. I'm at a loss for what may be going on and would appreciate any help. PCPartPicker Part List
Solved: There was a stray motherboard mounting screw under the I/O ports. Been there for seven years and just now decided to start fucking with stuff lmao. Having an issue with my PC shutting off when bumped or table it's on is bumped and the power LED on my GPU goes from solid to blinking. Came home Monday to find PC not turning on and the GPU power LED blinking. Opened up the PC and reseated the GPU and it worked fine until I bumped the table my PC is on and it shut off with GPU LED blinking again. Open PC up again and reseat GPU again along with motherboard and CPU power cable. Worked fine again until I again bumped the table and shut off Now I unplug GPU again and leave it out. Take out peripherals(Mouse, Keyboard, Ethernet) GPU to see if PC will turn on this way and it does. However once I start plugging things back in it shuts off. Mouse/Keyboard/Monitor goes in and each time pc shuts off but does turn back on. Still shuts off if table or PC gets bumped. At this point now I've reseated all cables, GPU, and RAM in all configs, with and without GPU, and have reseated the motherboard itself. I've also put in a new PSU and no changes. I have also switched out the GPU with a different one from another PC. My GPU works fine in other the PC, while the other GPU being my PC does same as my GPU being in. PC will turn on without any GPU in all scenarios until it gets bumped. Adding in GPU will get a solid on the GPU LED sometimes but will fail to run on and goes to blinking. Reseating cables or RAM will bring it back to solid but again fails to turn on. The only thing I haven't tried is reseating the CPU as it's the only thing I have not done previously and I don't have any thermal paste to redo the cooler right now. I'm at a loss for what may be going on and would appreciate any help. PCPartPicker Part List
Last time on Hell’s Kitchen... The final four each got a visit from their siblings, who became judges in their final Black Jacket Challenge. Tamina‘s dish left a bad taste in the judges’ mouths, including her brother’s. In the end, Brett scored a nearly perfect score of 22, and won the challenge. At dinner service, each of the chefs took a turn to run the kitchen to become the Co Head Chef at Hell’s Kitchen Lake Tahoe. Tamina’s performance on the appetizers...led to a hault. And so did Rod’s undercooked chicken. However, Brett performed the best in leading his brigade, while Tamina was a hot mess throughout the night, and during the elimination Ceremony, Chef Ramsay has eliminated Tamina, ending her dream of becoming Co Head Chef at Hell’s Kitchen Lake Tahoe. After Intro Bella was surprised as she made it to the final three, and found out that she was excited to go far in the competition, and was close to getting to the finale and winning the competition. Brett was in the same mood for getting into the finale as he firstly got the Black Jacket, and then got into the final three, and the other two things on his list that he wants to get done is getting into the final two/the finale and winning the competition so he can go to Hell’s Kitchen Lake Tahoe to become a Co Head Chef. Later that day, Chef Ramsay asks the final three chefs to meet him by his office as there was a special present waiting there. Chef Ramsay revealed the first surprise coming out the door was members of Bella’s family, which had her husband, Alejandro, and her oldest children, Ricardo and Sofia. Bella was excited to see her husband, and she walks up to him and hugs him. She also walked to her children and kisses them. The next surprise revealed through the doors were members of Rod’s family which had his mom, Carole and his girlfriend, Kate. Carole was crying in tears, and went up to hug Rod, saying that she missed him, and Kate asked Rod how he was doing, and Rod answered that he was doing great. Brett was still waiting for his surprise, and Chef Ramsay reveals the final one from the open door, which surprised Brett, as he saw his wife, Tammy and his infant son, Jon. Brett mentioned that he was missing his one year old son’s birthday from making it get far in the competition, and Tammy told him that he can do better. Chef Ramsay had the chefs spend a quality time with their families, and as the final four spend some time with their families, Tammy asked Brett who his biggest competition was, and he pointed to Bella and her family, and mentioned that she was the love of his life, and Tammy said that he was already married, and cannot get a second girlfriend, and Brett also learned about the fact the she was married, as he saw her husband through the doors. When Carole, Kate and Rod talk about getting far in the competition, Kate was asking if he can cook better than the other competitors he was going against, and he said that he definitely can, despite being arrested twice. The first time since he was 18, and the second time when he was 21. Carole said one fact about her life, that she has been away from her husband, who served in the Navy, and Carole felt like it was a difficult time hanging by herself, and wished to talk to him. Bella, Alejandro, Ricardo and Sofia have their conversation about getting far in the competition, and Bella said that she was the only one left in the competition so far, who has yet to be nominated and mentioned that she never will. Ricardo told her if she has faced a difficult time during the competition, and Bella mentioned that she has faced some difficulties while working in the kitchen, especially when some people were making mistakes during dinner service. After twenty minutes of talking, and spending quality time with their families, Chef Ramsay tells the final four to say goodbye to their families, as they have a different surprise awaiting their journey. Chef Ramsay has told them that their family members will be arriving to see a show at Lake Tahoe’s theatre, but he tells them that they have a different approach. Chef Ramsay gives them tickets to go to Lake Tahoe. Semi - Finale Trip Chef Ramsay sent the final three chefs to the airport to board their plane to Lake Tahoe, and Chef Ramsay finds out that there are a couple of fun and surprises there when they arrive there, and Chef Ramsay jumped on his helicopter leaving the chefs at the airport to catch their plane to head to Lake Tahoe. When the final three get on the plane, Bella had no idea what surprises that she, Rod nor Brett were going to experience. Were they going to a restaurant for dining. Brett told her to relax, and mentioned that she will find out what it is, when they get there. The first part of the final three’s break, is that they head to the mountains to ride snowmobiles, and Bella got excited as she never been on a snowmobile before. When the final four begin their snowmobile ride, Rod sees the lake on the right side, but said that it was blocked by the trees, and Brett mentioned that it was nice to get out of Hell’s Kitchen for a day, as he felt like it was a challenge win for him. Bella called it a thrilling ride. The next part of their final three break is that they head to Harrah’s hotel and casino, and when they enter the suite, Rod called the suite gorgeous, and Bella felt that there was a bar, filled with sushi, caviar, and more fancy foods, and when the final three made a toast to getting to the semi-finals, Brett mentioned that he wanted to go snowmobiling again, as it was very nice, and wondered if they had snowmobiles in Philidelphia, and Bella said that he was from the Northeast, so they might have them there, and Brett said that Lake Tahoe was the better place to go snowmobiling, and felt like he wanted more tickets. Final Tasting Challenge Later that day, Chef Ramsay arrives with Sous Chefs, Christina and Jay, and asked them if he had a good time, and Brett mentioned that he liked it, including the snowmobile ride, impressing Rod, who called him crazy. Chef Ramsay said that for the Final Tasting Challenge, they will each have a mentor, but Chef Ramsay said that there was three contestants left, and three staff members, but Chef Ramsay said that he will not be mentoring, instead Chef Ramsay invites back Season 19 winner, Kori, as Bella was excited to see her again, and runs up and hugs her after seeing her during the Signature Dish Challenge Reward back from the beginning of the competition, and Bella was hoping that she would be getting her as a mentor, as they both had Latin backgrounds, and Chef Ramsay told her to wait and see what card she got, and he mentioned that each mentor has a diamond card, an ace card, and a Jack card. Chef Ramsay decides that Bella would go first, as she was hoping to get Kori. The card that she pulls out is an ace, and Chef Ramsay had mentioned to the mentors to show who had the ace card. Christina showed the ace card, disappointing Bella, but she felt fine with Christina as she worked with her, due to being the red team’s sous chef. Chef Ramsay then had Brett go. The card Brett pulls out is the diamond card, and Brett had Kori as his mentor, thus leading Rod with Jay as his mentor. For the Final Tasting Challenge, each chef had to recreate a menu which featured a cold appetizer, a hot appetizer, and three entrees that featured seafood, chicken and red meat for one hour, and has the Sous Chefs help them with their cooking, and Chef Ramsay announced that the person with the lowest number of points will automatically be eliminated and not advancing to the final 2. Each chef will be judging from a scale of 1 to 10. (Skips cooking) First up, Ben Ford will be tasting the cold appetizer. Bella presents a Rattitouille Zuchinni Bruschetta, and Ben asked Bella if she was on a diet, and Bella said no, she was going to be in the finale. When Ben tastes the appetizer, he found out that there was good flavour, and he awards her 7 points. Next, Rod presents his marinated goat cheese, and Ben finds it too rich, and Rod gets 5 points. Next, it is Brett who judges his Fava and Ricotta toast, and Ben finds the melting in his mouth, and Brett gets awarded with 9 points. Bella - 7, Rod - 5, Brett - 9. Next up, Bobby Flay will be tasting the hot appetizer. Bella presents her Beef Taco Roll-ups, to present her Mexican Roots, and Bobby finds that flavour is there, and he gives it a 9. Rod presents his squid risotto, and Bobby finds that it had a lot of flavour, and the rice is perfectly cooked, and gives him an 8. Brett presents his Sausage stuffed mushroom caps, and found that the presentation is underwhelming, and Brett is given 6 points. Bella - 16, Rod - 13, Brett - 15 The next chef to judge the seafood entrees will be Ina Garten. Bella presents her buttermilk fried lobster with fried rice, and a salsa to go on the lobster. Ina liked the combination of salsa going with the lobster, but it looked more of an appetizer than an entree, and Ina gives Bella 6 points. Rod presents his balsamic glazed salmon with asparagus and polenta. Ina told him that the fish is glistening, and Rod is given 8 points. Brett presents a pan seared sea bass with fettuccine in a pesto sauce, and Ina tells Brett to taste the pasta, as it was lacking salt, and Brett was given 5 points. Bella - 22, Rod - 21, Brett - 20 The next chef judging the chicken dishes is Giada DeLaurentiis. Bella presents her chicken roulade, and Giada finds that the chicken is juicy, and Bella was awarded 8 points. Rod presents his chicken Parmesan with noodles in a butter sauce, which was given praise, and also was given 8 points. Lastly, Brett presents his General Tao Chicken which was too sweet and Giada gives it 6 points. Bella - 30, Rod - 29, Brett - 26 The final person who will be judging the red meat dish, will be a guest who judged the International Soup Challenge. It is Wolfgang Puck. First, he tries Bella’s hangar steak with a mushroom gravy, mashed sweet potatoes and Brussels sprouts. Wolfgang finds the steak cooked medium-rare, and her gravy tastes good. Bella garners a perfect score of 10. Next, Rod presents his NY strip with a mint pea risotto, and Wolfgang gives praise, gaining a score of 7. Lastly, Brett presents his beef stew served with fresh garlic bread, which needs a perfect score of 10 to tie, and while Wolfgang finds it tasty, he gives it a score of 9, eliminating him, leading Bella and Rod to be the finalists. Bella - 40, Rod - 36, Brett - 35 Chef Ramsay congratulates Bella and Rod for making it to the final 2, and told Brett that he was just too close to tying but it was not that good to get a score of 10. Chef Ramsay told them in order to run a brigade to become he Head Chef at Hell’s Kitchen Lake Tahoe, they have to run a brigade of other people, and he welcomes back the returning chefs... ...Chloe, Tabuki, Arabelle, Becca, Marvin, Erykka, Tamina, and told Brett to join them. Since Bella had the most points in the Final Tasting Challenge, she gets the first pick for her brigade. The first person Bella picks for her brigade is Brett because she knows that he was a talented person to have a brigade, and that his cooking is decent. For Rod’s first pick for his brigade, he chose Becca, as she was a strong woman, and felt like her cooking was on point. The next person that Bella wants on her brigade is Tabuki because she does not want any drama kings or drama queens in her kitchen, and felt that Tabuki had the level to grow and mature. The next person that Rod picks on his brigade is Marvin because he’s got a good palate. Next for her brigade, Bella picks Tamina as she was very creative, while Rod picks Erykka for his team, as she had a few bumps, but was hoping not to be left with Arabelle on his team. The last pick is between either, Chloe or Arabelle, and Bella did not want either of them, as Chloe makes a bunch of mistakes during service, and with Arabelle, she felt like she was not a team player, and had the drama. Bella has decided to pick Chloe as her last choice, leaving Rod with Arabelle, as he felt his team would be anybody but Arabelle. Bella (red kitchen) - Brett, Tabuki, Tamina, Chloe Rod (blue kitchen) - Becca, Marvin, Erykka, Arabelle
18th place: Jake
17th place: Irene
16th place: Angelina
15th place: Gabby (ejected)
14th place: Harry (hospitalized)
13th place: Chas
12th place: Blake
11th place: Scottie
10th place: Chloe (Cook for your Life)
9th place: Tabuki
8th place: Arabelle
7th place: Becca (2nd round of Black Jackets)
6th place: Marvin (3rd round of Black Jackets)
5th place: Erykka
4th place: Tamina
3rd place: Brett (Final Tasting Challenge)
Finalists: Bella and Rod
Next time on Hell’s Kitchen... It is the last episode, and the finale gets to the boiling point, where either a red jacket or a blue jacket pulls it off, to win the competition, and become the Co-Head Chef at Hell’s Kitchen Lake Tahoe.
What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using.
Dota2 in a window while I browse chrome, Ableton, Cyberpunk 2077. I work from home all day during covid. My PC currently runs Dota2 on medium settings in windowed mode. If I have youtube tabs open, it takes like 1 minute to get to the start screen. Running in 1.4k resolution.
What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?
700-1.1k
When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.
next few days/ coming week / cyber Monday
What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ToweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc)
CPU/mobo/GPU/Memory/PSU/case depending on new hardware dimensions
Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?
U.S, MD. there's a microcenter near me.
If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated.
My current build is below, my peripherals will mostly be reused. On the lookout for a new monitor.
Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?
Maybe, don't plan on it.
Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)
i currently have 2 SSDs, but they're 6 years old. 120 gb or 250gb would be a nice bump.
Do you have any specific case preferences (Size like ITX/microATX/mid-towefull-tower, styles, colors, window or not, LED lighting, etc), or a particular color theme preference for the components?
Current tower is white, and I blackout tape all the LEDs. No particular size dimension preferences. I like have lots of USB ports. Current tower does the job but an upgrade would be aesthetically pleasing.
Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? If you do need one included, do you have a preference?
I have Windows.
Extra info or particulars:
I have Microsoft ergo 4000 and Razer Deathadder. Currently stacking my asus monitor on books to have same height as QNIX. Below is my current build, looking to upgrade MOST from there. Also would like to upgrade my monitor. I bought a Asus PB287Q but sold it because hated how the colors looked compared to the QNIX. IMO i like the qnix colors and want something richer. These were all bought 6 years ago, and my computer is showing age as it sometimes boots up with blue screen and I have to turn off/on my computer before it boots. (This happens a lot after unplugging PSU). PCPartPicker Part List
[Review] Chanel Boy Bag, Old Medium from Canal Street seller
Often we talk about reps posted on RepLadies as being better than what you would buy on Canal Street. But what can you buy on Canal Street? This bag was purchased as an experiment in just that on a cold evening in February after work. Not one of the truly awful reps out on a blanket on the street corner, but one step up, this bag was purchased from a woman with a laminated booklet of bag pictures. I selected the bag I wanted – a Chanel Boy Bag in black caviar leather, size old medium and then she walked with me down Canal Street, introducing me to several suppliers and asking if they had my bag in stock. Eventually, one did, left to pick up his wares, and showed me several options. He and I proceeded to bargain, and he then provided me with my bag. - Disclosure – Nothing to disclose. - Seller’s name: In person seller on Canal Street in New York City. No name given. - Seller contact info: Go to the Canal Street subway stop and look for a lady with a folder of reps. - Price of item: $70 The only discount was haggling, which started at $100. - Payment method used: Cash - Price of shipping, carrier: None, purchased in person. - Order timeline: 2/2020 - 45 minutes from meeting seller to delivery of bag. *** **Photos*\* My photos PSP: N/A Purchased in person Factory pictures: N/A Purchased in person Authentic on Fashionphile *** **Quality – Rating 6/10*\* The bag is sturdily built and basically well made. Although the material is PU (-2 for reducing durability), it's quality PU with a convincing caviar hand-feel and a rugged sturdiness to it. It doesn't seem like it would start peeling quickly. The stitching is small and neat, although there were two tiny thread-ends that needed to be trimmed off. However, it's impossible to ignore: this bag is truly a box bag. Not only do the front and the back of the bag appear to be reinforced with a layer of plastic inside (not really a problem) but so do the sides, which definitely makes the bag less flexible than it should be (-2 for making this bag into a box). *** **Accuracy – Rating/ 5.5/10*\* From the front or the back, the bag is really quite passable. The PU leather is quite convincing, as PU leather goes (but -1 for not being real leather) but could be spotted if someone looks extremely closely in the right light, the quilts are quite even with small neat stitches, and the pillows look just the right amount of puffy to me. They even squish and rebound nicely. The bag measures the correct 25 cm for the old medium size. The ruthenium of the handle and trim is appropriately weathered looking, and has a nice heft. The leather bag handle in the middle has a very nice snakehead, but there's no line and dot next to it (-1/4 since that's a detail only a die-hard would look for) and there's a small bump in the underside of the handle leather (-1/2). The inside of the bag is lined in a black/dark gray grosgrain taffeta that seems to be accurate, but the leather label inside is a light gray and has a Chanel imprint that fades out toward one end. It would be a callout, except for how it's deep inside the bag, so (-1/2). The Chanel imprints on the sides of the bag hardware appear to be fine to me. However, the screws on the hardware are Phillips, not hexagons, which is definitely not authentic, but something only an experienced RepLady would know, so (-1/4). However, unmistakably, from the side the bag is so square and rigid that it is an instant callout to anyone who knows what the bag is supposed to look like. (-2 for one detail, but what a detail!) The authenticity card and inside serial number do not match and CC spot on the authenticity card does not reflect like the real thing, but honestly, I'm not going to subtract points for that because in the wild no one would be able to compare them and it would be wrong to sell this bag as the real thing. *** **Satisfaction – Rating 7/10*\* When you count satisfaction, you have to take into account expectations. This is not a God Factory or 187, and I didn't pay that kind of price for it. If you want a bag that looks like a Boy Bag because you like what a Boy Bag looks like, not because you want people to believe you have authentic Chanel, this bag will do that at a reasonable price. It's attractive and seems well-made, and I believe would stand up well to regular use. If you want to try out whether a Boy Bag would fit your life and style (which I did) this bag can do that for you! If you want to try out the authentic back-alley Canal Street rep experience, (which I did), this bag delivers that as well. However, I lost satisfaction on the fact that, well, this bag is a box, and held surprisingly little for its outside profile (-1). Having tried it, I now think a Boy Bag is not the bag for me, either in visual style when worn with my wardrobe, or in practicality of use. I also, frankly, lost satisfaction because I mistakenly believed the bag was leather (the supplier lied like a politician about that) and I'm not the biggest fan of PU leather, so there was a mismatch of expectations there (-2). *** **Seller Communication and Service – Rating/ 9.5/10*\* My seller went above and beyond to help me find exactly the bag I wanted, even though it meant walking up and down Canal Street on a cold winter evening. Her English was not amazing, though far better than my non-existent Mandarin, but she worked hard to communicate with me and generally did a very good job. Because of this, while she didn't alert me that her supplier lied about the bag being leather (- 1/2), it is entirely possible that she didn't catch on to what he was doing. In conclusion, this was a fascinating experiment, but it probably would have worked better if the bag I bought didn't have as complex of a technical structure as the Boy Bag. If you're buying on Canal Street, maybe get a tote or a scarf, this is probably the worst bag to go looking for!
By 2013, Armenia's fish breeding industry was using a water well above the allowance, legally and illegally. This resulted in Ararat valley's Artesian freshwater levels dropping by 15 meters. "Former Nature Minister gave 211 illegal licenses," said the general prosecutor. (this is the same Minister who is charged with allegedly helping Robert Kocharyan with a multi-million dollar mining license bribery) Since 2017, fish exports rose 3x, and caviar exports by 5x.
In 2019 the govt began tightly regulating water usage. Some wells were throttled or closed. "We waste $1b worth water to produce $200m worth fish annually," complained Pashinyan at the time. The number of fish businesses went from 180 to 169. Most of the freshwater usage permits granted since 2018 have been about renewing existing licenses.
Several fish businesses were issued $600 citations. Some of them allegedly belong to Artsakh president Arayik, former official OEK Arthur Baghdasaryan, BHK chief Gagik Tsarukyan, ex-Premier HHK Hovik Abrahamyan, etc. "Our readings and the data coming from businesses indicate a slight but visible increase in underground water levels," said an expert, "we also give citations for not filtering out wastewater and dumping it in nearby rivers."
In 2019, Bigama Fruit company launched a pilot program to experiment a new type of fish breeding facility. It uses less water and produces more fish. "The same 20 liters/second water usage now gives us 45 tons of fish instead of 9," said the CEO. https://factor.am/276600.html Tags: #Artezian #FishIndustry #AraratWater #FishBreeding
PM traveled through the province to see ongoing kindergarten, school, and road repairs. Here are some bits:
"It's good that water is free, but it's also bad because everything shouldn't be free. People should be accustomed to paying for stuff and taxes. Those taxes are re-invested to build infrastructure, after all." https://youtu.be/R7EcADIol54
A local woman complained about the mayor and school director allegedly colluding to illegally fire her from school. She attempted suicide. "We heard your version of events. I'll ask someone to investigate," said PM. https://youtu.be/RsSoteMxKTM
Pashinyan concludes the trip: in 2018 we adopted a strategy that every road around Lake Sevan must be of high quality. It's almost done. Some sections near Tsapatagh and Jil were never asphalted before, but now they will be. And it isn't just about asphalt. They're getting water drainage networks, street lighting, and new kindergartens for the first time. All of this is part of our subsidy strategy. The federal and local governments co-funded this $12.5m project across Gegharquniq.
This is needed to economically develop Sevan's eastern shores. Areguni-Artanish region has a perfect climate and potential for eco-tourism. Armenia is turning into a huge construction field. I'm once again convinced that our decision to lift the strict COVID lockdown was the right move. It would have harmed these programs. We need to rebuild Armenia now as if we're preparing for the second coming of Jesus.
Why do govt employees receive salary bonuses? They must receive decent compensation. It's my decision. I support bonuses. The public should be happy that today we have Ministers who need bonuses because they don't embezzle. https://youtu.be/TG1x984LoC8
NSS busts more corruption at National Metrology Institute
On Ap27/2020 we learned that Metrology officials allegedly took bribes to ignore illegal activities between 2019-2020. NSS has busted more corruption. NSS says that between 2010-2018, the officials also hired 27 fake employees and embezzled $116k in salaries. A new felony case is launched. https://factor.am/276817.html
2017 attack on journalists / Statute of Limitations
In 2017 Sisak Gabrialyan was Azatutyun journalist. In 2019 he became a QP MP. In 2017, while filming an electoral office and the assault of his colleague, he was allegedly assaulted by the Defendant. Today the court found that the Defendant's actions were not severe so he was cleared by the statute of limitations. https://hetq.am/hy/article/120606
The govt's Constitutional Court nominee quits
Earlier the govt, the president, and the Supreme Court each nominated one judicial candidate to fill in the empty spots in Constitutional Court. Today the govt's candidate Vahram Avetisyan changed his mind after meeting with several QP MPs. They had disagreements around several topics related to judicial independence, the courts' role, de-politicization. As a result, the candidate doesn't believe he'll get the necessary 80 votes from MPs to be elected. https://factor.am/276821.html
Belarus: 2008 or 2018? / Activist explains
Context in Aug/16 post. Belorussian activist Tatiana C.: // what's happening in Belarus now resembles the 2018 events in Armenia. Many Belorussian activists are mimicking the Armenian model of peaceful protests today.
the leader It's decentralized and across the country. Unfortunately, there is no clear leader. Tikhanovskaya was forced to flee. She wanted to serve only for 2 years to organize new fair elections. The crackdown has been brutal. Belarus is more militarized than Ukraine. They've been training for this day for 26 years. Maybe it's better that there is no clear leader; they can't arrest one person and finish it.
the strikes Workers from 8 out of 10 largest companies are on strike. They demand an end to brutality and fair elections. There is no clear count on how many are striking, but the squares get filled. The govt forcefully locked some factory doors to keep workers inside.
the votes 87% of votes went to Tikhanovskaya in polling stations for citizens outside of Belarus. They may not be a great representation of demographics within Belarus, I agree, but we also have polling data from within Belarussian stations showing that Lukashenko completely rigged the numbers.
who is Lukashenko's main base? Lukashenko still has strong support among the military and political elites. Factory leaders are also his puppets. We don't see large cracks yet.
what if Lukashenko leaves? If he leaves now, Tikhanovskaya could return and organize new snap elections, or there could be a temporary coalition govt that will organize new elections.
Geoplotics: West vs East? There is no anti-Russian campaign just as in the case of the Armenian revolution. It's hard to predict the future foreign policy under a new leader. Belorussian TV calls the protests "Maidan" (keyword for anti-Russian revolution) but that phrase is less common in Russian TV. Only smaller Russian fake news-y blogs describe the protests as Maidan.
international media Before things got hot, international outlets were hesitant to send teams to Belarus due to COVID. Now things are hot and the media wants to visit Belarus, but the govt began denying their accreditation petitions under the pretense of issues caused by COVID. /// https://youtu.be/6C5lEVfjKlE
Belarus: 2018? / Mass strikes / EU responds / Leader emerges / Lukashenko clings
The alleged election winner Svetlana Tikhanovskaya, while in exile, released footage thanking her supporters and expressed willingness to take the role of a leader to organize new transparent elections. https://youtu.be/UPATUpqAIDE
More people joined the strikes across the country. Participants include large employers like Minsk's tractor factory, BelAZ car factory, BelarusKalia, etc. "We understand that our strike will cause economic problems and people won't receive their wages, but we have no other way to pressure the government," said the strikers. https://factor.am/276866.html
Lukashenko used a helicopter to visit one of the factories to give a speech among a carefully chosen small group of loyalists. "There won't be new elections unless you kill me," he said. He revealed that they're working on Constitutional amendments to "redistribute and balance the power". That's his compromise solution. https://factor.am/276905.html , https://factor.am/276970.html
The Belorussian government has submitted its resignation as mandated by law. A new one will be formed post-elections. Developing story: https://armenpress.am/arm/news/1025138.html
A big drama took place in June. The Education Ministry official Gogyan, tasked with catching plagiarism, accused another Ministry official of sponsoring Economics University rector by ignoring problems in her doctoral dissertation. Gogyan revoked rector Diana Galoyan's doctoral degree for "improper citation".
Later, the SIS examined and found no evidence of "sponsoring" the rector. Today the Education Ministry overruled Gogyan's decision and re-instated the rector's doctoral degree. They also found "double standards" when it comes to revoking her degree but leaving another similar one intact.
Yerevan begins sorting recyclable cardboards / Plastic next
5% of all trash is paper cardboard. The city's Green Department created a new office and began cooperating with 600 large businesses to have them separate their cardboard waste from the rest so the city can dispose of them separately. Every morning, city trucks visit businesses and collect 2.5 tons of cardboard. The goal is to reduce recyclable materials in garbage landfills.
Healthcare Ministry finished the construction of a new autopsy center in Kotayk. It is Armenia's first center that's certified to handle autopsies of people who died from dangerous viruses. The center has protective measures such as separate entrances, air conditioning systems, HEPA filters, etc. https://factor.am/276850.html
Yerevan Chess Federation held an educational competition between 8-14yo kids and coaches to find talents. Kids played against adult grandmasters. Robert Philiposyan was the winner. Remember that name. https://factor.am/276805.html
Archaeologists find neolithic items after examining a 35,000-year-old cave
There is an ancient Bear Cave in Vayots Dzor province. Experts from geological museum and FPWC conducted քուջուջ operations. They found that the cave is older than previously believed. Samples of Stone Age stone tools were found, as well as pottery from the Neolithic era. Lots of bones were unearthed. Photos: https://armenpress.am/arm/news/1025141.html
You've read 1882 words.
Disclaimer & Terminology
1) The accused are innocent until proven guilty in the court of law, even if they sound guilty. 2) Currency in Armenian ֏ unless specified otherwise. 3) NSS/SIS/SOC = law enforcement agencies. QP = Civil Contract Party. LHK = Bright Armenia Party. BHK = Prosperous Armenia Party. HHK = Republican Party. ARF = Armenian Revolutionary Federation Party 4) ARCHIVE of older posts by Idontknowmuch: PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 ; PART 4 ; PART 5. 5) ARCHIVE of older posts by Armeniapedia.
Hello all! I bought a prebuild CyberPower GXiVR8080A2 (parts list below) in 2017 and I haven't upgraded any of the components since the purchase. It still does a pretty good job so I'm not in a major hurry to get new components in the next week or two. I more would like to have an idea of what to look out during sales over the next 6 months. If I don't need to upgrade anything, great. My initial thoughts are that the GPU and CPU (have not overclocked it, might look into that this weekend) seem to still be pretty good, so I'm guessing the Motherboard and RAM are of lower quality due to the prebuilt nature of the PC. I don't know how much of an impact that would have if I were to upgrade those, though I presume the MOBO would be less impactful unless an upgrade to RAM would require and upgrade to MOBO (supports up to DDR4 4266+(OC)). I plan to stay with 16GB of memory. RGB is cool nice-to-have but not a priority. Current Build (The CPU Cooler wasn't available on PCPP so I just wrote what they are underneath the table). The RAM isn't the exact same as I couldn't find that on PCPP either, but it should be comparable: PCPartPicker Part List
Prices include shipping, taxes, rebates, and discounts
Total
$2363.94
Generated by PCPartPicker 2020-10-15 09:11 EDT-0400
CPU Cooler: Asetek 550LC AIO liquid CPU cooler Case: The case is the same as in this premade, my components are just older. Have you read the sidebar and rules? (Please do) Yes. What is your intended use for this build? The more details the better. Mostly gaming, MS Office, possibly some CAD in the distant future but it's not much of a concern right now. If gaming, what kind of performance are you looking for? (Screen resolution, framerate, game settings) 2560x1440 (27" monitor) at ≥ 60Hz, with high/max settings (shadows and such can be reduced). I would obviously love consistent 144Hz but I think that would require a major upgrade to my GPU? What is your budget (ballpark is okay)? This will be an ongoing process, so I would say ~$800-$1200 over the next year. My general buying philosophy is to buy middle-high to high-quality parts (willing to wait for sales) for the parts that matter and middle tier components for less imporant (just don't want junk that is shoddily made). I am open to increasing the budget if necessary, or deceasing if only minor upgrades are needed. In what country are you purchasing your parts? USA Post a draft of your potential build here (specific parts please). Consider formatting your parts list. Don't ask to be spoonfed a build (read the rules!). The only thing I updated was some highly rated RAM with a faster speed than what I currently have. The other components are left in for comparison. PCPartPicker Part List
Prices include shipping, taxes, rebates, and discounts
Total
$1793.97
Generated by PCPartPicker 2020-10-15 10:17 EDT-0400
Provide any additional details you wish below. Newer games have been taxing my PC a bit more resulting in lowering some settings, which is what prompted me to start looking into upgrading. Could just be the opitimization of the games I've been playing lately though. Currently playing Hitman (2016) and it's causing a few areas to drop to <60fps. Vermintide 2 also bogs my CP down quite a bit, though I'm guessing I just need to tweak the settings some more. I don't really want to upgrade for the sake of upgrading (though I see the appeal to it...). I don't really have a good feel for the comparative strength of components as they age, so this whole post might be silly :). I've also begun looking into settings that could bump up performance. Thanks for any and all help.
[REVIEW] Gucci Matelassé, Chanel Double Flap, YSL Card Case from TS Aadi
Disclaimer: I have not received anything in exchange for this review. After letting Aadi know that I received my package, she did ask me if I could write a review. I did receive a 12% discount from Aadi that she had as her new seller discount for those apart of the RepLadies community, this discount was given so that I would post a review. Background I have my moments where I am obsessed with finding a new haul and other moments where I take a step back, but of course when I do make a purchase I have to share. I was about a week out from my 21st birthday and decided I wanted to splurge on myself. I’ve done the bare minimum of hauls, so I was instantly attracted to some of the more popular and basic bags available. I had never directly ordered through any seller before and normally used an agent such as SuperBuy (which let me tell you, after directly talking directly to the seller, purchasing is SO. MUCH. EASIER). I had seen a lot of reviews for Aadi since she was recently added to the TS list, so I added her on WeChat and scrolled through her Szwego link until I found way too many items and had to limit myself. [Review]: Source: TS Aadi on WeChat TotalPrice: ¥2922 + ¥350 (shipping) = ¥3447 or $486.80 USD Payment method: Paypal F&F Order timeline: · 6/7: Added Aadi's main account on WeChat, she sent a link for her bag szwego and clothing/accessories link. Later that day I told her what I wanted, confirmed price, and payed through PayPal. It was a very fast and easy process. (Does Aadi ever sleep? I swear I would message her at the most random times and ALWAYS receive a message back almost instantly lol) · 6/8: Aadi had to confirm with me about the Chanel bag that I ordered because I originally wanted the gold hardware, but it was out of stock and she offered the silver hardware instead. When ordering, I was between which hardware color I wanted, so I okayed this change. · 6/10: Received PSPs of the Chanel Double Flap bag. I was impressed with the amount of photos that were sent and used my very untrained eye (and past reviews of this bag on RepLadies) to QC the bag. It looked good to me, so I gave Aadi the greenlight for this bag. · 6/11: I received PSPs for the rest of my order. All looked well and again gave the greenlight. Shipping details and timeline: Although Aadi sent me DHL waybill, the tracking number was through FedEx (I was a little confused about this but saw the this mentioned in another review) · 6/12: Received shipping waybill from DHL. · 6/14: Shipment information received by FedEx · 6/21: Picked up in Dubai · 6/25: Delivered to me who was impatiently waiting for 10:30 AM *Before I get into it, feel free to QC the items I am sharing. I have a very untrained eye and tried to use different pictures across different sites and reviews on here. I live somewhere that has limited access to luxury stores, so I haven’t seen any of these items up close/in-person. I will update my review if information is brought to my attention. [Item]: Gucci Marmont small matelassé shoulder bag in white Price: ¥1600 - 12% (new seller sale) = ¥1408 = $199 USD Pictures: 📷 My pictures 📷 PSP 📷 Factory pictures 📷 Link to Auth Quality - 9.0/10 · Construction: Nicely put together bag, stitching is good. · (-1.0) Exterior: everything looks great, other than the wrinkling that can be seen. If you compare my photos to the PSP’s that I received, I believe this occurred during shipping. Any advice on fixing this? · Interior: the lining is a good quality cloth that should hold up over time. · Hardware: Hardware has a good weight to it and functions appropriately. The clasp to open the bag opens as it should. Accuracy –9.25/10 MY QC is based on online resources and guides that have been supplied in this subreddit. Pros: · Shape and overall look: The overall look of the bag is correct. Other than the wrinkling mentioned before, the puffiness of the bag seems to be correct as well. Chevrons on the flap, back, and front of the bag all match up in terms of number and what they should look like. The heart is placed in the correct spot based on chevrons. Luckily, it has the tiny little triangle on the back in the bottom. · Canvas: Coloring seems to match authentic as well as the puffiness as mentioned before. · Alignment: the cuts and logos all look to be placed correctly. I was hesitant at first on saying this for the GG as I feel that it could be a tiny low, but not enough to take points off. · Hardware: the chain versus the rest of the hardware seems to be a tiny bit of a darker gold compared to the rest of the hardware, but this seems to be accurate for the auth as well. · Logo stamp: the stamp looks correct in font, size, and contents and is centered and placed correctly. · Zipper tab: the shape and length are correct, hooray!! Cons: · (-0.5) I have to include the wrinkling here as well, just because if I am not able to fix the wrinkling it is not true to the authentic. If it is fixable, I will change this rating. · (-0.25) Based on photos that I have seen, the inside lining of my bag seems to have more of a pink hue than the auth has. Satisfaction - 9.5/10 I have seen this bag repped badly, so I am happy with the turnout and quality of this bag. (-0.5) Of course, I am going to take points off for the wrinkling unless it is able to be fixed because I feel like this is a major call-out. [Item]: Chanel Double Flap Classic Bag – Caviar, silver hardware Price: ¥1400 - 12% (new seller sale) = ¥1232 = $174 USD Pictures: 📷 My pictures + More Pictures 📷 PSP 📷 Factory pictures 📷 Link to Auth (I’m not able to find this exact bag with silver hardware on the Chanel site). Quality - 9.0/10 · Construction: Bag seems put together well and sturdy. Stitching looks amazing, no loose threads. · Exterior: Leather seems to be good quality & smells like it is. o (-1.0) *I will reassess this if answered in the comments or if it is user error* It seems that there is some of the exterior black that came off around the flap enclosure. · Interior: the lining itself is a good quality cloth that feels like it will hold up well to regular use. o (-1.0) there is a little bit of bubbling/separation from the exterior on one side of the bag as shown in my pics. Hopefully this is not a huge issue over time. · Hardware: clasps functions appropriately as well as the zipper. Accuracy -10/10 QC is based on the resources I have online to compare to. I’m also not sure what the specific call-outs are to look for on this bag so I am giving my general opinion. Pros: · Shape and overall look: overall look and shape are correct. Specially, I feel that the puffiness of the bag seems to be spot on. I saw some reviews that the tongue length can be off, but it looks spot on to my untrained eye. · Alignment: the cuts and logos all look to be placed correctly. · Hardware: coloring is spot on to pictures I have seen for the silver hardware. Placement of hardware also seems to be spot on. · Logo stamp: inside stamp looks correct. I am absolutely in love with the interior of this bag. · Zipper tab: shape and length seem to be correct. Cons: · Like I said before, QC’ing isn’t more specialty but I feel like this bag is pretty much perfect (please let me know if there is a big call-out I need to) Satisfaction - 9.5/10 · (-0.5) I am absolutely in love with this bag and would give a 10 if it weren’t for the problem that I have with the flap. I am going to address this more below but I am hoping this is fixable. [Item]: YSL Pebbled Leather Zip Card Case Honestly didn’t realize how much I was mixing brands until I got to this review… I was between getting a YSL bag, wallet, or cardholder and you can see which one I ended up with. Price: ¥320 - 12% (new seller sale) = ¥282= $39 USD Pictures: 📷 My pictures 📷 PSP 📷 Factory pictures 📷 Link to Auth Quality - 10/10 · Construction: Seems to be a very sturdy card case. Stitching is neat with no loose threads. The back pockets for cards are well constructed and fit cards like it is meant to. · Exterior: Does not feel sticky and does not have the factory smell that many people experience with other goods. · Interior: lining seems to be good quality that will hold together over time. · Hardware: zipper does not snag which is very important, it slides smoothly. Accuracy -9.5/10 QC is based on the resources I have online to compare to. Pros: · Shape and overall look: the overall look and shape are correct. Has the same amount of cardholders on the back. · I was impressed with the fact that the zipper tab has the little ‘bump’ that the auth has, so that it doesn’t lay right against the top of the zipper. · Exterior: The pebbling of the leather seems pretty spot on when comparing to authentic. · Hardware: tone of gold seems accurate, YSL logo seems to be correct in the location of lettering. · Logo stamp: the stamp looks correct in font, size, and contents and is centered and placed correctly. There aren’t many pictures that I can find online of the inside, so this is based on the pictures I could find. · Zipper tab: the shape and length are correct. The cons: · (-0.5) The only true flaw I can see based on comparisons is the chevrons on front. Although the auth and mine both have 7 chevrons, the last chevron in the bottom corner is smaller than pictures I have seen of the authentic. *As always, this is based on my eyes and opinion only, so please let me know if there is something else I should check out. I will update my review if there is anything I did not mention. Satisfaction - 10/10 With this being such a small piece, I am very happy with the quality of this and the flaws I see would not deter me form purchasing again. Seller Communication and Service - 10/10 As I already stated, this was my first buyer to seller transaction without an agent and I was VERY impressed. I was seriously so nervous (I’d still have my mom make my appointments if she would oblige lol), but I am glad I mustered up my courage to do the communicating myself. Aadi was very efficient, very fast, and provided an absolute amazing first experience. I tried my best to contact Aadi during normal waking hours in China but did send a few at odd hours and she got back with me almost instantaneously (like I said I don’t know when or if she sleeps)? I would recommend Aadi as a seller and will be purchasing again! Okay, also need some advice about these bags as spoken about earlier but wanted to chare better pictures of the items I am talking about. Gucci bag – wrinkling Okay, need some advice about these bags as spoken about earlier but wanted to share better pictures of the items I am talking about and the wrinkling that occured. How do I fix this? Steam it? Some magical liquid? Will it go away over time? Chanel – Flap After taking the sticker off the enclosure, there has either been a residue left on the bag or it took some of the coloring off. Can someone let me know what to do in either case? Is there something to take residue off or something to fix the color that came off? I haven’t tried to get the ‘stuff’ off just in case it could make it worse. Both items are somewhat small things, but of course I would love to fix it anyways.
Continuing Time passed: winter changed into spring, spring changed into summer ... and winter gave spring and summer a miss and went straight on into autumn... until we decided that it was the proper time to host a housewarming party for all our new friends and colleagues here in Russia. But first, I had to take several relatively short trips to Western and Eastern Siberia. To Kazakhstan, to Uzbekistan, to Kalmykia, to Dagestan, to Chechnya, to Ukraine, to Georgia, to Latvia, to Lithuania, to Tajikistan, to Estonia…didn’t get a lick of work done for my company, but sure met one hell of a lot of folks and got info on many, many different projects. It was basically ‘pump-priming’, or ‘testing the waters’, or whatever the hell you want to call making initial contacts, spending huge amounts of company money on flights and ‘entertainment’ expenses. As well as meeting people from well over 1.6 million different countries. I had a most burgeoning Rolodex, not Rolex, as if anyone here would remember those things. I carried a brick-like satellite phone which was monstrously expensive so I used it as much as possible. Had binders full of business cards and I had more visas for more different countries…strange thing, though. With my red Diplomatic Passport, I could sail right through the vast majority of border control points. I guess they were still jittery after the not-so-amicable breakup and were loath to cause any ‘Diplomat’ any grief. I got away with such shit those days. Smuggling? “Of course not! I’m a Diplomat!” Are those rocks of any value? “Of course not! I’m an international geologist and those are but shiny, faceted, green, blue, and red crystalline hand samples!” Are three cases of vodka really just for ‘personal use’? “Of course not! You’re right. Let me get another one to stuff into the Diplomatic Pouch.” So, one bright spring day over bilberry-jammed blinis and freshly Samovared-coffee, Esme and I decided that since the kids had such good friends in the complex, we’d farm them out on one Friday night. Then we’d throw a house-warming party for all our new Muscovian friends. The party was to include several of my Siberian friends and some actual real Muscovites; who we had to strangely invite via registered letter so they could be allowed entrance to our compound. That was one of the things I didn’t care for in compound living. But, that’s the way it was; and nothing I could do, even grouse about the rules, would change anything. Esme had invited her entire American Women’s Club, which was composed of North and South American women. They would be bringing their husbands. We made it sort of clear that this was an adult’s night out. As much as we loved their little ankle-biters, carpet-crawlers, and curtain-climbers; they all needed to take this one as a time out. It was parent time in the Motherland. I already had ordered up 3 half-barrels of beer and an equal number of cases of vodka. This was not a time for puberty, it was time for adultery. No, wait. That’s didn’t come out right…it was parent time. A time for parents... To socialize. To get to know each other. To eat, drink, and act like a bunch of goofy teenagers. You get a general idea. Anyways, there were going to be Russians, Siberians; and yes, there is a difference, Czechs, Brazilians, Scots, Americans, Canadians, Dutch, Brits, Australians, Moldovans, Chinese, Nepalese, several from various Stans, Botswanans, Danes, South Africans…ah, hell, there were going to be a lot of the globe represented. All united by the common threads of bar-be-que, free beer, and ample smokeables. Luckily, it was fairly equable outside, weather-wise, and we were in-between the seasons of the Spring *Rasputitsa *, or mud season, and the early summer thunderstorms. I had arranged for several large tarps on poles to be erected over the front dais of the house and even more in the back yard. The back yard would hold all the troughs full of ice, beer, and soft drinks. There would be a separate one for the vodka, cognac, and sweet girly champagne that the local women seemed to really enjoy. These tarps also covered the bar-be-que grills I had made to order a few months previously. One of the oilfield service companies took some 8 foot-long sections of 42” line pipe, sandblasted them and sawed them in half lengthwise. They were hinged together in back and handles were welded front and back for transport. Set on four stout pipe legs, interior racks were repurposed from some Russian appliances of one sort or another. The ends were welded shut with caps and suddenly, there were a couple of very Texas-sized bar-be-que grills in my backyard. The company had stuffed the grills into their industrial autoclave and heated the things to 2 or 3 million degrees C. to burn off all the nasty oilfield schmoo. While they were still warm, they were powder coated with electronegative paint, and re-kilned. The result was the grills and racks were surgically clean and coated in a blast-furnace-heat resistant covering of melted porcelain-like glass. One was red, of course, and one was blue. They were works of art and are still with the service company that created them as I willed them to the company when we left some years later. Now, bar-be-que and outdoor grilling might be as dull as dishwater to us Norteamericanos, but it was absolutely thrilling for most of our new friends. Many knew of cooking over an open fire, but only during camping, hunting, fishing, or times of natural calamity. To cook outdoors when it wasn’t really required? Such Western decadence. This was all something thrillingly new and potentially dangerous. I had arranged for some charcoal to be flown in from Finland, as the stuff available locally just couldn’t cut the mustard, so to speak. It was more loamy and peaty than charcoal-y. The Finnish stuff was as hard as anthracitic coal. We were going to grill up a half-side of cow, several small suckling pigs, a load of pike-type fish, and just because, a couple of locally sourced briskets, some ‘gamburgers’ and hot dogs. Just because it was a barbeque. Of epic proportions. Of Rocknocker-esque proportions. Esme tried several times to reign me in, but after the truck showed up with an entire side of beef, she realized it was a lost cause. “Rock”, she cooed to me as I tried to stuff the side of beef into our tiny kitchen, “I knew that sooner or later, you’d twist off. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and I guess it’s finally arrived. I just want to let you know, I love you greatly and if I should disappear, I wouldn’t have gone far. I just don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.” “What’s that, m’dear?” I asked while I tore the kitchen apart looking for the Old Bay spice and Dave’s Insanity sauce we smuggled in on our last trip. “Oh. Nothing, dear.” Es smiled, “Go nuts. But please, be careful.” “Oh, sure. Yeah. No worries.”, I smiled as I found that ceremonial Gurkha knife, “This will work a treat in cutting up the beef once it’s done.” as I swung the massive thing around like Darth Vader confronting a Rebel contingent. “Kids”, Es called, “Isn’t it time to go to your friend’s house?” This all started on a Tuesday afternoon. Es and I had to prepare the menu and then I’d get after what needed getting after. Besides a half-side of beef on the bar-be-que, as I mentioned, we’d have some stuffed and grilled pike, hot dogs, ‘gamburgers’, a few suckling pigs, a couple of big, meaty briskets, currently corning in the kitchen, and maybe some form of poultry or two. It’s a meat-heavy menu for a meat-heavy diet round these parts. I took care of the beer, vodka, champagne, cognac, and gin, well, there’s were going to be some Brits in attendance, soft-drink mixers, and ridiculously expensive citrus fruits. I had the country store on-site crank up their ice machine and had standing orders for all the excess ice they could produce over the next few days. Roger, my Texan neighbor, confidant, and mechanical engineer buddy who kept to a work schedule which closely mimicked mine, decided he couldn’t let this hapless Baja Canadian handle these whole two grills on his own. Truth be told, Roger was a major help in fabricating the necessary rotisseries and pipework to spin the pigs and side of beef above the fire. He was keen and adept at drawing things up on paper, but pretty worthless in translating them from two to three dimensions. That’s where my adroitness and past experiences with a pipe cutter and welding torch, again, ‘borrowed’ from the oilfield service company, along with their pipe-rack truck, came into its own. He designed, we both cut the appropriate metal, and I metal-glued them in place. Roger ‘located’ a couple of large electrical motors, one capable of turning the 300 pounds of cow on the one spit and one efficient in handling the ‘pig basket’ of about 250 pounds of young piglet that was going to be prepared. Each was several dozen horsepower in displacement and heavy as a motherfucker. They stood alone on the ground, while Roger fabricobbled up a drive-train system and electrical controls for each. What began as a simple ‘C’mon over for a back yard bar-be-que’ had turned into something of which NASA would have been proud. Picture this: 2 eight-foot-long, 42” diameter pipe grills, one gleaming red, one shining blue, with a Rube Goldberg set of pipe contraption A-frames making a pair of rotisseries; one driven by a 30HP 3-phase electric motor, the other by one only churning out 20 HP. There was a separate control tower Roger ginned up which contained the start-stop switches and rheostats which controlled the rotation of the beeve and baconators. With all that, we still had room for four stuffed pike, each at least a meter in length, my briskets, a few butterflied chickens, hot dogs and ‘gamburgers’. “Nothing succeeds like excess”, I said to Roger as I toasted him with the second or eighth beer of the morning. He agreed with me and stole yet another cigar. The beef was turning slowly over a low fire of finest Finnish hardwood. This was calculated to take at least 2.5 days to complete. The suckling pigs I’d start the next morning. If all went to plan, we’d have everything ready for dinner by 1700 that Friday. Well, the meat’s taken care of, as were the drinks. Esme and Linda, Roger’s wife, grabbed Valosh and made a trek into downtown to Stockman’s Pantry for some typically American repasts. Cans of baked beans, fresh lettuce, rocket, radicchio, romaine, and other salad-y makings. Several varieties of fresh fruit, Emmenthal cheese and melting Dutch chocolate for the fondues that Es set up every single time we had a gathering. It was a tradition. We’d source much of the remainder of the party munchies locally. There was a bakery just around the corner of the compound and after buying our bread there for months, we got to know the proprietors quite well. We explained the concept of the “tortilla chip” and damn if they didn’t create a very passable Russian version. We created our own flavorings for dusting over them, and I think we were the absolute first to come out with a caviar-flavored chip. Potato chips were easy enough to make, as were soft tortillas, but we were coming up shy on dips. Substituting unflavored Greek yogurt for the more usual labneh back in the Middle East, I converted some of our imported biryani masala, lamb masala, curry mix, and other Middle Eastern spices into chip dips. You haven’t lived until you’ve had Red Caviar flavored Russian tortilla chips with a healthy dollop of garam Masala and yogurt dip. As Emmanuel from Argentina sniffingly said: “It’s a brilliant antihistamine.” I contracted with a batch of local school-aged kids to pick fresh mushrooms for the party. Russians are just crazy over mushrooms. However, as we were to find out, they will only eat them cooked; having them raw for dipping or in salads really gave them pause. Ah, just another twist on the usual house warming party. The cow continued cooking, the porks were happily spinning along in their private horizontal merry-go-round and the Finnish cooking wood was holding out well. The smells emanating from our corner of the compound had many, many people wandering over wondering who was opening the restaurant. Thursday slid into Friday. I took the car and made a mad dash for the Mitino Ramstore to replenish our butter, paprika and vodka stocks. Seems all those Russian bottles had holes in them… I was actually using a good supply of the stuff in cooking. Take a cup or so of good vodka, taste-test it, just in case, restore to proper measure and heat it gently as to not incinerate your eyebrows. Add a cup or so of berries, and a cup of sugar, and a smidge of molasses. Heat until just right. Repeat until you have enough drunken berries to fill a pie crust; graham cracker or otherwise. You can freeze this and serve it with whipped cream frozen or bake it until the berries bubble; then you can serve it with ice cream. I made homemade ice cream as well for the evening’s festivities. To a standard vanilla base of sugar, egg yolks, and hot heavy crème, you whip this stuff until it can’t take it any longer and it goes all custardy. Then you add your flavorings and churn the hell out of it over rock salt and ice. Result? Mint chocolate chip with Cornish crème de menthe. Rum raisin with Jamaican dark RUM. Watermelon ice and spirit. Spirt is homemade Siberian rocket fuel. Pretty close to 200 proof as one can get. Rocky road with pecans, marshmallows, caramel, chocolate truffle, and Napoleon cognac. Bourbon vanilla with fresh Madagascar vanilla-bean vanilla. “You can’t get booze to freeze in ice cream!” I hear some wag yell. “You can if you freeze the stuff with liquid nitrogen!” I yell back. I have access to all sorts of fun, sciency stuff. Liquid nitrogen is as much a cooking staple as is liquid oxygen. We’ll save the Great Grill Meltdown story of 2002 for a later date. Friday morning, as I was out tending the grills, several of Esme’s friends from the compound showed up to help set up for the evening’s festivities. “Great”, I thought, “They’re in there, I’m out here with the vodka and beer. All is right with the world.” There was a flurry of activity as each of Esme’s friends busied themselves with a different portion of the party. One was handling the desserts, one was preparing the salads, one was setting out the plates, cups (first time for red Solo Cozy Cups in Russia), and silverware. It was going to be a very informal sort of party, but evidently, there was a certain protocol to follow. Flowers appeared from the Babushka Mafia; where we had a standing order. A huge centerpiece filled what seemed half the dining room table. A fire was started in the fireplace. Why? Because. Reasons. OK. Me? I just stayed out of their way. Esme started up her fondue pots; ones we’ve had since day one of our marriage. Into one went a four-cheese mixture of Emmenthal, edam, cheddar, and brie cheese, along with some light white wine. Into the other pot went a kilo or so of melting chocolate, imported from the Netherlands or other European someplace. Some very expensive, 45-year-old cognac went into that pot to facilitate meltage. There was some nutmeg, cinnamon, saffron, and other spices as well. Potato salads were made and brought out, covered under chilled cheesecloths as the fridge was hopelessly full at this point. Green salads were made, with and without locally-produced mushrooms. The whole table groaned after a fairly short time from it’s covering of fruits, breads, beans, salsas, salads, and other party fares. The ice creams I had made were up at the country store near the entrance to the compound, We had no room and they graciously ‘rented’ out some of their freezer space. All it cost were a few rubles and a couple of quarts of ice cream. The horse troughs out back were stocked with kegs of beer, tappers, and bottles of booze, all on ice. There was one smaller trough full of Russian soft drinks, juices, fizzy and still waters, and other things that would probably stave off if not prevent total alcohol poisoning. Olga, our house girl, insisted on stuffing and preparing the pike for the grill. She was a wonder. She was teaching the girls, and truth be told, Es and I, Russian and Ukrainian. She insisted on making dinner anytime Es or I wandered into the kitchen looking for a sandwich and generally made us feel like some sort of privileged class. We didn’t want that at all and went out of our way to make certain we treated her like family. She was scrupulously honest, and when we included 250 extra rubles for her first week since all the extra work she took upon herself; she actually chewed us out for being too “credulous”. “People will take advantage.”, she scolded, “I agree to weekly pay, no more. I will not make you more naïve.” I finally got her to take it for payment for the language lessons. She was a real polymath. She helped the girls with homework, ran interference with any local entanglements, and could cook like there was no tomorrow. She was a peach, pure and simple. Plus, she liked my cigars and loved cognac. We got on like a house afire. She also knew her way around a fish. She had those four-meter long critters gutted, scaled, stuffed and trussed as good as any Michelin starred chef in any international seafood house. They went on the grill, just to the south of my briskets. The chickens would only take a couple of hours over this low and slow heat and the aromas of them comingled with the other proteins were intoxicating. Or it might have been the potato juice and beer marinades I was using for the various bits of animal carcass. Vodka, melted butter, smoked Himalayan salt, and smoked Hungarian paprika was brushed liberally over the butterflied chickens. Many times during their grilling tenure. Beer, a tomato reduction sauce, molasses, maple syrup, and cognac graced our rapidly caramelizing roasted piglets. Bourbon, coffee, treacle, and a few secret ingredients made up the sauce for the beef. It went on every 100 or so turns. The brisket and pike were left alone, except for some fish masala for the pikes and Old Bay mixture for the briskets. The grill was closed on these and they were allowed to continue more or less unmolested. The day drew along and it was soon noon. The house was decked out very festively. The girls were going directly over to the neighbor’s after school so it was now T-5 hours to party time. But with all our help, there’s wasn’t much to do. It was all pretty much done. Roger assured me he’d stop over at the country store and pick up the pies, ice cream and extra ice in our amassed coolers when he returned from work, around 1500 hours. So that was taken care of. Esme decided she wanted a shower and nap before the evening’s frivolities, and since everything had already been done I couldn’t agree more. We kissed and smiled at our good fortune and taste in friends and neighbors, as she headed upstairs for a bit of kip. The cow was turning, the pigs were spinning, the pike and briskets were smoking and I decided to grab a lawn chair, fire up a cigar and sit out back enjoying the warmish afternoon in northwestern Moscow. Oh, sure; I nodded off a few times, but made certain my charges were well looked after. Be silly to get this far and have things go south. Roger showed up around 1600 hours and I helped him move all the coolers into the garage, as there just wasn’t room in the house nor kitchen, it was that stuffed with party favors. The meat was approaching that point where it was done to if you’ll pardon the expression, a turn. Roger sampled a piece of the spinny cow and declared it good enough for a Texas rodeo. High praise indeed. He left and would return with Linda in perhaps an hour. I went to wake Es and got her in the shower with a cup of coffee. I decided to forego the shower and helped myself to another pre-party cocktail. 5:00 PM arrived and our guests…did not. Roger and Linda, our only North American invitees showed up around 1730. Es, myself, Roger and Linda sat around chatting and nibbling, wondering where the hell everyone else was. I even motored up to the gate to see if the officious guards were giving any of my local invitees any grief and thus holding them up. No. They hadn’t shown up as of yet. Back to the house, and now, I’ve dealt with the Arabic version of showing up for a meeting, party, or operation. These characters will be late for their own autopsy. I thought punctuality was more prized in the European community. I fiddled around with the grills and turned everything to ‘warm’. I was, truth be told, a bit miffed at all this. I had spent a fair fortune on feeding these characters, you would think… At that precise moment, the doors burst open. The crowds had arrived. All a bit ‘fashionably late’, but with their gird on and ready to party. There was no mention of their unpunctuality, but huge bear hugs, back slaps, and depositions of house warming gifts, all bottles of some form or another of alcohol, typically rare and reflecting the origin of the giver. The party went from absolute silence to incredible raucousness in nothing flat. I still had to man the grills, so I dragooned Roger into being the ad hoc bartender. Esme and Linda were showing folks around the place, making the perfunctory tour before the inevitable feeding and drinking. Roger was busier than a one-handed paperhanger in a windstorm. I helped out best I could by tapping the kegs and passing around the Solo Cozy cups, which made a huge hit among the Western and Eastern Europeans. Of course, the stereo was cranked up. Between Esme’s classical music and my 60s and 70s rock collections, the place began vibrating. Luckily, we had the forethought to invite the neighbors who lived immediately adjacent to us. After the initial drinks were disbursed, it was time for the first rounds of nibbly bits. Being in Russia, one simply cannot have a drink without a nosh. Esme’s fondues were incredible hits. Since fondue is a Scandinavian invention, we figured it’d be more well known here. Evidently not as several folks had to be given instructions as to how to build a cheesy or chocolatey snack. The dips, crudités, amuse bouche, and chips went over very well. We had people from Africa, Asia, Europe, both Americas, Australia and other ports of call not yet mapped. Everyone had their story of foods back home that mimicked our offerings. It was most entertaining to hear stories of the braai, pit roast, chuanr, yakitori, satay, khorkhog, tandoor, and the like. But it was the whole, well, a half grilled cow that boinged everyone’s eyes. The whole suckling pigs, smoked stuffed pike, briskets, and chickens also got their share of gapes. I had some hamburgers and hot dogs in case anyone was about to go hungry. Over more rounds of drinks, I announced that I’d be carving up the meat and setting it out, for everyone to help themselves. Olga shouldered her way through the crowd with my Gurkha knife and a couple of large platters. First off were two of the whole smoked and stuffed pike. These were attacked with abandon, much to Esme’s alarm as people missed the salads and zeroed in straight on the protein. Olga sorted them all out by pointing out proper party protocol and for people to take notice of the assortment of bread, salads, Jellos, and fresh fruits provided to accompany the meals. Properly chastised, some sense of party decorum returned as the beer continued to flow, the empty vodka bottles stacked up and my cigar humidors went, for the time being, unnoticed. I carved off great, bleeding hunks of cow. It was so tender I could have butchered the thing with a pleasant remark. Some were blue, some were medium and some, down the way along the beast, we well done. I carved up huge hunks of each for all to take that which they would please. The chickens came off the grill next, and after a few deft knife swipes, were deboned and ready for consumption. The briskets were resting on a sideboard in the kitchen and Olga assured me she’d take care of them as long as I handled the disassembly of the suckling pigs. Taking a quick restroom break, I was amazed to see one of our living room tables completely covered by bottles of wine, champagne, spirits, and who-knows-what. These were our inevitable house warming gifts from our assembled friends. There was much greeting and handshaking as I tried to make my way to the facilities. I could hear Valosh and his wife somewhere in the madding crowd, but this was simply going to have to wait. Internal pressure was approaching critical limits. I decided to keep station out by the grills as I still needed to handle the roast suckling pigs. I figured that if people were wondering where I was, follow their nose out to the bars and grill; I’d be around somewhere close. Roger dragged a table over from his backyard to give me some room to disassemble the little porkers. He kept up with his bartending duties and I reduced those crispy little pork packets into more eatable size pieces. People had gotten the idea that enough with me bringing in the grilled food, they’d just come outside and get it fresh off the cooker. The party was going into high gear. People were showing up who I didn’t know, and after quizzing Esme, she had no idea as well. Didn’t make a bit of difference; there was no way we’d run out of food or drink, and as long as we’re here, we international ambassadors of general amity. As long as these interlopers behaved themselves, no one had any objections. There was one small incident where some local younger hooligans tried to swipe a couple of bottles of booze off the living room table. Some older Russian gentlemen, Heroes of the Soviet Union all, relieved the hooligans of their ill-gotten gains. Somewhat forcefully. They gifted them instead cuffed ears, kicks up the backside and swats on the back of the head as they admonished them off the property. We learned later these older Russian gentlemen were both maintenance and security for the compound. We were most pleased to make their acquaintance and happy they could join us. The house was packed, the front yard was packed, the back was really packed. Everyone was eating and drinking like there was no tomorrow. And as tomorrow was Saturday, the international day of rest and hangover nursing, and since we’re so far north, we’re starting to get into White Nights territory, this was going to be a long, long night. The pike were gone. All four, consumed. The briskets were as well. I was told they were ‘very good’. I’ll have to take their word for it, I never as much as got a slice. Chickens? Disappeared. Gone without a trace. Piglets? We had about one small half left. The side of beef? Well, there were still a few steaks left, as I carved myself a healthy hunk, but I was amazed at the feeding frenzy we had just witnessed. It was mostly gone as well. Maybe enough for a few sandwiches come the morning. The salads were most appreciated and devoured. Even Esme’s grandmothers bit-o-a-joke lime Jell-O with carrots and peas disappeared. Bread? Mostly gone. Chips and dips? Still holding out, but would never survive the night. Esme and I were glad everyone was getting their fill. Everyone was finishing up on the main courses and all helped pitch in to clean up any trash and do what few dishes Olga hadn’t yet gotten to. There was an actual lull in the gathering as now it was time for a post-dinner smoke and a bit of rest before dessert. Roger and his teenage son went out in the garage and brought back the 4 coolers full of bespoke ice cream. One would think ice cream wouldn’t be terribly relished by denizens of the far north. Au contraire. The locals love the stuff. In fact, I haven’t found a single person who has actually refused a bowl of my homemade nitrogenized ice cream. Esme broke out the plastic bowls and announced that there were homemade pie and ice cream available out back. “Name your poison”, I chuckled. That idiom took some time to explain across 20 or so different languages. There was a problem though. People may be familiar with chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream; but Rum Raisin, Vodkamelon ice, and Crème de menthe chocolate chip? This was ‘terra incognita’ for most everyone. What better way to sort it all out by providing samplers of each of the flavors in one bowl? I froze the plastic bowls in liquid nitrogen then placed smallish scoops of each flavor ice cream in each. “Just a sample”, I said, “So you can figure out which you like best.” It took a bit of translating, but soon everyone got the idea. Once I dished out the mixed-berry pie, there was no clear winner on which ice cream flavor was the favorite. They were all consumed 100%. Some actually came back for thirds. And the pie was good, or so I was told. Once more, after the dessert course, the whole area was policed clean. Food, drink and various fun activities started to take their toll. Things were beginning to quiet down. Then I forgot and went to my humidor and grabbed a smoke. Over a couple of boxes of cigars, impromptu Bocce ball, lawn darts, and corn hole games broke out. I mean, it’s 2200 hours, you have a huge cigar, it’s still light. What better than tossing around heavy metal balls, pointed oversized darts, or bean bags at holes sawn in plywood? Then Laurens-Jan and his wife, Fientje broke out the Absinthe Fountain. An absinthe fountain is not for dispensing absinthe, but rather for dispensing water. A typical absinthe fountain is an ornate vessel with several taps around its central water container, which permits a number of drinkers to louche their absinthe at the same time. On contact with water, absinthe will louche -- or develop a certain subtle clouding that will slowly transform the drink's color from deep emerald into a delightful shade of opalescent light green. They had brought a couple of bottles of King of Spirits Absinth from Denmark with them. Just for a side note, the stuff is 70% alcohol or 140 proof. As if the evening needed another shot in the arm. The Absinthe Fountain louched four drinks at a time. It did so in a mesmerizing and nearly hypnotizing manner so that when the drink was ready for consumption, one could scarcely decline. OK, there was still a half-barrel or so of beer out in the backyard, probably a case or so of spirits of various denominations swimming around back there as well. There was an active absinthe loacher going on in the dining room, cigars were being had by most everyone and games of very little skill were being attempted out in the yard. The party had found its high watermark. People had achieved what we Baja Canadians would call ‘blissed’. It’s that feeling you get, sitting out under a basic roof, at a rained-out ballgame or after trekking all over a country or state fair, sitting with several pitchers of probably somewhat flat and lukewarm beer, feet up and just enjoying the hell out of the universe. It’s a rare condition, but I think we attained it here. Spontaneous card games erupted: cribbage, Schafskopf, Canasta, poker, and spit. The music toned down and was more instrumental than the early electronica synth-pop of dinner. Conversations broke out. Friendships were made and cemented. Bliss had been achieved. One of those friendships came back the very next day to haunt us. Dr. Dumitru Hurgoi and his wife, Dr. Anamaria Stelymes, veterinarians both, showed up at our door early the next afternoon; planned strategically after the girls had returned from school. Seems Dr. Dumitru heard me lamenting the loss of our Lady McBeast a few years prior and how our daughters were missing having a pet or two around the house. Drs. Dumitru and Anamaria ran the local chapter of the Russian version of the Society of Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. They had just taken possession of a litter of little, pure-snow-white Samoyed pups that had been abandoned at their clinic. They made their entrance carefully, making certain the girls saw all 6 puppies as they spilled, oops, out of the box and into our villa. They were about 5 weeks old, very inquisitive and were immediately all over the house. It took us over an hour to round them all up. Of course, at that time, we had a great deal of exposure to each of the pups. Of course, we couldn’t be cads and refuse to take at least one for our very own. It was Khris, already starting her studies to be a large animal veterinarian, that ran each of the pups through her testing scales to see which would be the most appropriate for our family. That all didn’t matter, as Tash glommed onto one little female and refused to give her up. We took the smaller female puppy of the litter. It proved to be the best idea of the time because once she was removed from the bump and tussle of the litter, she really came into her own. So, that afternoon, I signed the papers on the ownership of “Zima”, Russian for “Winter” due to her snow-white countenance. Smart? Like a whip. Clever. Inquisitive? Oh, yes. A footwear thief? Until we left Russia, I never had a matching pair of socks again. To be continued
That reminds me of a story. “MY NAME IS?” our driver yells as he points out the grimy van window at some random outdoor apparition. “MOMMY! Why is he yelling all the time?” Tasha wails. “Tash”, Es explains, “That’s just the way they talk over here, I guess.” “Valosh?”, I ask, “What are you on about?” “MY NAME IS? MY NAME IS?” Valosh ramps up the decibels, whacking the driver’s window with his index finger. Evidently, we’ll all understand things much more clearly if he just yells louder. “PUTIN HOUSE! PUTIN HOUSE!” Valosh gesticulates wildly as we drive past the Kremlin. “KGB! KGB!” Valosh gesticulates wildly as we drive past Lubyanka Square. “MOSCOW RIVER! MOSCOW RIVER!” Valosh gesticulates wildly as we drive over the eponymous river. “INTIM STORE! INTIM STORE!” Valosh leers at Esme and me; laughing riotously. “Just wait until I figure out what they sell at the ‘Intim Store’…” I muse sourly. “Oh!”, I say as the light goes off, “Valosh wants to know the English word for what he’s pointing to. Now I get it!” “DA, DA, DA!” Valosh hollers triumphantly. Valosh is wanting us to teach him English. In return, Valosh will help us out with our Russian. “Gotcha!” I smile at Valosh. “Rock Russian, Valosh English!” “DA, DA, DA!” Valosh bellows triumphantly. Valosh takes his eyes off the road, even though were in 12-lane deep hell-bent-for-leather Moscow well-you’re-in-it-now-up-to-your-necks traffic; smacks me lightly on the cheek and smiles “Damn good Joe!” We’ve made a major breakthrough in international diplomacy… “Valosh? The name’s ‘Rock’…Jesus Christ, Valosh! Watch out for that fucking semi!” I yell. Valosh just chuckles to himself, “Damn good Joe.” as we quite literally slalom sideways around the truck. Since this was not my first time in the Rodina, or Mother Russia, in fact, my last visit cost me a few fingers; Es and the kids were the ones now freaking out. I was handling with the usual “Oh, well, whaddya gonna do?’ aplomb. I did my best to comfort them and assure them that this was in fact, what passes for normality around the place. It didn’t much help. What did help is that Valosh finally found our hotel, the ridiculously opulent and baroque Hotel Ekaterina right in the heart of downtown Moscow. It was located on the MOSCOW RIVER, according to Valosh, and fairly close to some local рынок (rynoks) or markets. Which was good, as Es and the children needed a bit of help to shakily make their way to our suite. Evidently, they’re nowhere near as acclimated to jet lag and Moscow traffic as was I. Once I got everyone checked in, de-pressurized, and settled, I suggested that I head to the local рынок, or market. I’d find us some bits and pieces to nosh upon until the hotel restaurant opens in a few hours. Since the kids were already snoring in their rooms, Es waved feebly in my direction and wished me well on my trip. Thus emboldened, I exchange some US currency for Russian and am once again, a-walkin' talkin’ Texas millionaire. “Watch out, ye hoards of the proletariat”, I snickered, “Big Amercanski capitalist comin’ though.” I knew my millionaire status would last just until after my first taxi ride. But, it was a nice day and I felt like a bit of exercise after being stuck in an aluminum tube with 250 of one’s closest friends for the last 11 hours. Even in Business Class, you still get to breath all the same recycled air. With the current times being what they were in Russia, the airs were very fragrant; tinged with trepidation, fear of the future, and really, really awful Russian cigarettes. But, it was a clear, blue Nu Pagodi sort of day. I had my rubles, I had my rudimentary Russian, and I had my marching orders. Off to the local street market to see what wonders I could find for my famished family. Mandarins. Clementines. Tangerines. Whatever you call the little orange-y bastards, they’re my crack cocaine. I’m not normally frugivorous but ever since that first trip to Eastern Siberia where I bought a kilo of the little beauties outside, literally, of Ulan Ude. I sat eating them overlooking Lake Baikal in December. I was hooked. Communist China, to my back, smiled on approvingly. So, back to the marketplace. Oh, look, it’s Bulgarian Sneaker Week. A full 40-foot container of Bulgarian running shoes have arrived, all the same colors and style. I hope my European-American shoe size conversions work as I buy a half-dozen pairs for Esme and the kids. Alas, that’s not for eating; so I need to look for some of the more unusual comestibles that abound in these open-air markets. Oh, look! Daralagjazsky cheese. This stuff is unbelievable. And only 2 rubles per 100 grams. “Да, один килограмм, пожалуйста.” [“Yes, one kilo, please.”]. “Oh, holy wow! Gollandsky cheese. Poshekhonsky cheese! Sovietsky cheese! Oh, my giddy aunt! Uglichsky cheese!” “Да, по одному килограмму, пожалуйста.” [Yes, one kilo each, please.”] “Sausage? Where?” I ask. I am directed over to Колбасный уголок, “Sausage Corner”. There’s ливерные колбасы, liver sausage, сырокопченые колбасы, dry, fermented sausage, and варено-копченые колбасы, smoked sausage. “Да, по одному килограмму, пожалуйста.” [Yes, one kilo each, please.”] Damn, I note. I need a cart, or at least a string bag. I find a bag vendor and buy several. Next is bread. Look here: borodino bread, or Russian sourdough with caraway. Oh, yes. That’s a kilo. Then there’s ржано́й хлеб, or Russian rye. Yep. Another kilo. Well, so much for sandwiches. Now, some drinks. Kvass? OK, a liter or three. Sok? Juice? Ok, a couple of liters of burberry, dilberry and bounceberry. Some soft drinks? "Baikal," "Tarhun” and "Sayany”? Ok, fuck yeah. Some beer, perhaps. Just a few. A twelver of Baltic Number 9 should hold me until dinner. And well, since we’re new in town, maybe a couple of bottles of Moskovskaya Vodka, just in case. In case of what? What have you got? I purchase six. Just in case. I find a young neo-capitalist Russian boy with a wagon and offer to rent his wagon for an hour or two. Through my strangled Russian, we negotiate the princely sum of 10 Rubles. I take the wagon and my purchases back to the hotel and he’ll pick up the wagon from the hotel’s concierge later. “Done and done”, I say and hand him more money than he’s probably ever seen in one place at one time. Yeah, the international ambassador of amity and cirrhosis. That’s me. He even helps me Tetris™ my purchases into his rickety wagon. He runs off and finds some twine for me to secure my stash. I slip him a couple more rubles just for fun and he’s well pleased; as he returns with an cold beer for me and one for him. Beer is considered a soft drink in Russia. It’s openly available for anyone. He mooches a cigar from me, “For his father”. I can only snort and chuckle. Damn, I like working here. I surrender a cigar that costs more than the average monthly salary these days in Russia. Not gloating or making out like I’m the nasty old capitalist, I’m just reporting the facts. With hyperinflation, my hard currency dollars are better than gold. Plus, I like helping out those that help me. Also, I like to be generous to those who help me out and don’t laugh too loud at my rickety Russian. Which is how I came to be arrested, again, in Russia. I’m sitting at the edge of the market, where there are several seats and chess tables set up. These are permanent fixtures as chess is somewhat of a mania in the RSFSR. They are also convenient places to sit, take a load off, and have a chat with your fellow man on the street. Well, one thing leads to another, and I’m now handing out cigars while the bottles of vodka appear. Here come the 100 gram glasses and the inevitable bread, pickled mushrooms, sliced cucumbers, and dried fish…one simply cannot drink here without a nosh. I’m working on my rusty Russian and I have a coterie of new friends willing to help the hapless Amerikanski who’s struggling with their language. They appreciate that I’m working on learning the language and even more appreciative that I’m free and easy with the beer, cigars, and vodka. We’re having a large time until the police arrive. They look over the crowd I’ve amassed and wander through it like a snowplow down an early January Wisconsin backroad. “Что все это тогда?” “What’s all this then?” they ask. Everyone clams up and looks the other way. Suddenly, I’m on my own. “Nothing much, Officer”, I say to what I figure is the head police guy. He looks at me like I’m ready to sprout zucchini. “Какая?” “What?” he asks. “Извините, мои русские не слишком хороши. Я американец.” “Sorry, but my Russian’s not too good. I’m American.” He stops, looks, and asks for my papers. “Ваши документы? Пожалуйста?” I hand over my red Diplomatic Passport and all my internally KGB-vetted worker’s papers. He looks at them and visibly stiffens. “We go! Now!” he orders. “NOW!” “OK. Whatever you say.” I’m not about to argue. I know we can sort this out once we get to the police station. If not, then the American Embassy. They know me there as well. “Your hotel?” he asks. “Hotel Ekaterina.” I reply, quizzingly. We walk along in silence; only punctuated by the occasional squeak of the wagon’s wheel. After a few blocks, I hear: “Doctor Rock does not recognize Igor?” he asks lowly. I look and damn it all to hell. It’s Igor, one of my ‘handlers’ the last time I was in country. “Igor! Holy fuck! How the hell are you? How’s the family? Doing OK?” I ask. “Not now. Comrade Dr. Rock is in big trouble. Walk with me. Say nothing.” Igor commands. “Yes, sir”, I snicker. I’m indefatigable; nothing at this point’s going to break my stride. We walk together in silence, away from the madding crowd at the rynok, away from all my cigar-puffing new friends, away from all the crowds on the street. We turn the corner and Igor looks at me and laughs. “Still unconcerned about safety, Dr. Rock?” Igor asks. “If you’re asking if I still don’t give a fuck, then the answer’s yes. What was that all about?” I ask Igor, now a sergeant in the Moscow Constabulary, I see. “Economy’s in the toilet and you’re out playing philanthropist; giving out cigars and booze.” Igor scolds. “I was just being friendly”, I replied. “And you were being set up to be robbed,” Igor tells me. “Oh, fuff! By whom? Those old pensioners?” I ask. “No. Their kids. They set you up, get you comfortable and bam, you take a cosh to the back of the head. That wagon you’re pulling is enough food for a family for a couple of weeks.” Igor adds. “Your wallet? Probably a few years.” “Damn. I’m sorry. I’m the fuckhead here. I never much gave it a thought. The rynok’s bustling so and everyone’s buying and selling…” I tried to explain. “Yeah, but in 1/100 the volume you’re doing on a whim.” Igor states. “I was just buying some lunch for my family..” “Think, Comrade Doctor. Times have changed. You need to be more on your guard.” Igor notes. “Thanks”, I tell him, “Care to join us for some lunch?” I ask, shifting gears as quickly as possible away from my faux pas. “Yes, Doctor. I think it is time I meet your family.” He smiles. Igor, the concierge, a porter, and I schlep all my purchases up to our room. I knock to let Esme know I’m not alone. She opens the door and was no more surprised to see me standing there with a Russian police sergeant and a stupid grin on my face than just me with a stupid grin on my face. “Esme”, I say, “This is Sgt. Igor. Remember I told you how he rousted me at Sheremetyevo Airport because I was trying to smuggle all that caviar and vodka back to Houston?” “Ah, yes. Sgt. Igor. Welcome. Please, do come in”, Es chuckles. Esme is such a good sport. We all drag in my purchases and I tip the concierge and porter. I explain that I’ve got the makings of a fine Russian lunch and that I’ve invited Sgt. Igor to break bread with us. “Rock, that’s fine”, Es says, “But it’s adults only. The kiddos are out for the count.” “That’s OK”, I smile, “We’ll try and save them some.” I unpack all my purchases and set about slicing bread, chopping onions, doing this and doing that. “Dr. Rock!”, Sgt. Igor says loudly, “Will you please sit down? Let me show you how things are done in the Motherland.” “OK”, I said sheepishly, not realizing I had breached protocol, however inadvertently. Our hotel suite was fully furnished so Sgt. Igor set about finding plates, glasses, and silverware. “Take note, Doctor.”, Sgt. Igor smiled, “This is the way we do it in civilized society.” First course. Nibbly bits of fish, fruit, bread, and cheese. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. Second course. Caviar with buttered toast points. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. Third course. Russian salads, boiled potatoes, and sausage. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. Fourth course. Cold cuts, bread, butter. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. Fifth course. Nibbly bits of fish, fruit, bread and cheese. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. Sixth course. Russian ‘sweeties’, chocolates, caramels, nougats. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. Seventh course. Cigars, cigarettes, pipe or hubbly-bubbly. And vodka, wine, beer, or sparkling water. “Now, Comrade Doctor. I hope you have been taking notes.” Sgt. Igor laughs, patting his well-distended belly. “But don’t forget for afters”, I say and hand him a couple of dark, oily Cuban cigars. “Doctor, Mrs. Dr. Rock; as long as you’re in Russia; you ever need anything or have any trouble; you call Sgt. Igor. Anywhere, anytime.” As he rises, bows slightly, and grabs both of us in a great bear hug. He hands us his business card. “Anywhere. Anytime.” He reminds us. “Thank you, Igor. Let us hope we meet not needing your services but for another fine lunch or dinner.” I say. Esme echoes my intentions. “But I must be back to work. I am certain my Commander will question me as to my whereabouts for the last few hours.” Sgt. Igor laments. I slip another couple of cigars in his tunic’s pocket. “Tell him it’s all Dr. Rocknocker’s fault. He’s back and needs a keeper. Give him a cigar, he’ll know our words are true.” I laugh. “He knows you, Doctor. I’m sure he’ll want to see you before too long.” Sgt. Igor smiles. “We’ll be here until school starts. Then we’re off to Rosinka. Keep in touch, and we’ll have you and the Mrs. over for our house warming. And tell your Commandant he’s invited as well.” I say. “As you say, Doctor Academician”, Sgt. Igor smiles, “We are glad you and your family are here. We need your Western help. And western cigars.” Sgt. Igor leaves, and Esme and I look at the carnage on our dinner table. “Well, so much for dinner.” I say, “Anything good on the telley?” The next morning, I’m doing a full fried English breakfast for everyone. The kids, jet-lagged as they were, slept through the night and awoke ravenous. Time for Dr. Dad to make like he did back when he was an undergrad working at Sambo’s. Hash browns. Eggs to order. Toast. Waffles. Baked beans. Mushrooms. Grilled tomatoes. Sausage. Bacon. Ham. Pancakes. Blini. Blintz. Crumcakkes. Profiteroles. Beignets. Coffee. Juice. Tea. Breakfast beer. Just a light repast. With just a slight amount of Irish Whisky in someone’s coffee. We have a few days off before I need to report to the office. We’re on Rocknocker-Central Time, and decide when and where I’ll report. I’m not dragging my family through some committee-decided time-critical knothole just so you can be sure to have the weekend off. First, we need to get acclimated. Plus, we have several ass-loads of containers of personal effects on the way. We need to sort out where they’ll be stored until we get to our destination at the Western Compound: Rosinka. OK, let’s get that out of the way. We’re due a 4-bedroom flat in Rosinka, a new Western Expat theme park, or gated community, some 30 kilometers northwest of the city center. It’s bloody horrible expensive, as our place, for 4 people, which would be a split-level shoebox in the US, runs about US$10,000/month rent. And that’s for an attached villa. A standalone house begins at US$18,000/month. Oh, I could have wrangled one of these, but I didn’t think it was really necessary. I held out for better perks, besides, the kids wanted a gated community where they could visit and play and have friends from literally over 55 different countries. True world travelers. They’d rather live out in the sticks than in the heart of a city 850 years old and home to 13 million souls. Clever girls. But, we needed to wait a while; until school started and we could move into our new digs. So, we were stranded in the middle of Moscow in a fine 4-star hotel, right on the Moscow River, with nothing much to do but practice our Russian and watch really bad satellite TV. After a couple of days, I called on one of my Russian friends, Dima. “Dima”, I say, “I’m going nuts. Can I borrow Tatyana to take Es shopping” Dima laughs. “Sure, Rock. I’ll send her over and you can pick up the cab fare.” “Can you come over as well? I need a boon companion.” I ask. “Sorry, Rock”, Dima replies, “Some of us actually have to work for a living. Tell you what, I’ll send along a couple of fishing rods and some bait. Take your kids out fishing, they’ll love it.” “Good idea”, I reply, “Dima, I own you one drunk. Let me know when you want to collect.” The cab arrives and Tatyana, who speaks virtually zero English, and Esme, my dear wife who is fluent in English and German, but not Russian, steal the contents of my wallet and head off in the cab speaking the shared lingo of ‘shopping’. I have three fishing rods and a can of red wigglers. No pun intended. “C’mon girls”, I say, “Let’s go fishing.” We do the forced march of at least 100 meters, as the hotel fronts the venerable Moscow River. There are even benches for us to sit while we try to entice whatever can actually live in this particular piece of hydrological nonsense. Of course, one large, cigar-smoking American and two not-much-smaller, flaxen-haired children intent on fishing, draw the inevitable crowd. I rumble along in my rusty Russian while my children, without so much as a ‘by your leave’, address the massed crowds in wonderfully St. Petersburg-esque tinged Russian. They relate flawlessly who we are and what we’re up to. They never had a lesson. I went through Berlitz. Twice. They sound like natives and I sound like a doofus. Story of my life. “Holy shit! I got a bite!” I holler. I’m up on a bridge, so I hand my pole down to Tash who’s standing on a landing closer to the water. She plays the fish expertly while I run around looking for a landing net. I wasn’t expecting anything larger than a maybe kilo-sized perch, but this fish is some sort of toothy critter and looks to be a predator. Some of the locals gather around to kibitz and add their best suggestions. “Keep your tip up.” On suggests. Always a good idea. “Run it back and forth to tire it out.” Another wag advises. Yeah, no. We’re fine right here on the steps leading down to the river. “Pull harder, pull faster!” adds another kibitzer. Nahh…We don’t ‘horse’ fish back where we’re from, we ‘finesse’ them to the net. Finally, someone comes up with a landing net and I scoop the finny critter up. Tash is beaming, her first Russian fish and by the looks of things, the largest fish she’s caught to date. I pull the fish out of the net, and damn if it doesn’t look like a walleye from back home. Toothy, resemble a pike with their elongated body and head, and the perch with their spiny dorsal fin. I’m told it’s a zander, and as fish go, it’s highly prized as a food fish. It weighs, I surmise, about 4 or 5 kilos; not tiny but not huge either. A nice fish. We’re not going to eat it so I ask Tash if she wants to offer it to some of our local fisher-friends. She thinks that would be a great idea. She holds up the fish and asks if anyone would like the fish as we cannot clean or cook it in our hotel room. Immediately, and elderly Russian woman, your typical babushka, or Russian Grandmotherly-type, asks if she could have it for her dinner. Tasha agrees and hands her the floppy, fighty fish. Both are all smiles as Tash hands Grandma her fish. She smiles widely and pats Tash on the head. She disappears so quickly we all wonder where she disappeared. We all go back to fishing. We are catching small perch, silver goby, carp, and other mostly inedible, but scrappy little fish. A few minutes later, Grandma reappears with a covered plate full of Russian delicacies for us in exchange for the fish. There was smoked fish, sausage, pelmeni, cheese, sliced cucumber, sliced tomatoes, a Russian potato salad; all enough for a nice mid-day feast. I tried in my wretched Russian to say that this was all not necessary, but Khris took over the conversation and as she somehow knows that what I was saying would be construed as mildly-to-moderately insulting; she thanked Grandmamma and said she’d return with her platter tomorrow, here at the same time. Grandmamma was beaming, she was very happy. She had her dinner and we had accepted her reward. Things were right again in the world. We decide to curtail out piscine pursuing activities, and we rolled everything up, handed off the remainder of our live bait to some appreciative locals and went back up to our suite to await Es’ return. Of course, we couldn’t wait and had to sample some of Grandmama’s creations. Even though most Americans prefer their fish deep-fried and nestled between two slices of bread, this Babushka Fish was the exact opposite. It was all fresh, delectable and totally unrecognizable to our Western palates. It wasn’t the first time we’d be blindsided by our own taste buds. Even after Es and Tatyana return from their shopping excursions, there was enough left over to take Dima a plate home as well. Time scurried forward. I was commuting the daily 90 miles or so, 45 to the office downtown and 45 back, leaving at a brisk 0430 the usually returning around 1800-1900 hours. It was grueling. No dedicated driver yet, that was still getting all sorted out, as we had made the move out north and west to our Expat gated community. We received a ridiculously small 3 bedroom villa, at least, compared to some of the palatial places we had in the Middle East and Central Asia. It was enormously expensive, why-the-fuck-out-in-the-sticks, at least as compared to where I had to be each day and quite comfortable and cozy with several fireplaces, a very large heated garage where an endless supply of chopped and seasoned firewood awaited. The girls were going to the American School of Moscow, being picked up each school morning in their Mercedes 60 passenger busses. Complete with in-bus closed-circuit television. Their trip only took 30-45 minutes per leg, depending on traffic and the weather. They got to stop before heading into the very bowels of the city of Moscow. However, after several weeks of fiddling and fucking around, we; meaning Valsoh my driver and boon companion, and I came up with a solution. I’d take a drive to the XYZ Metro station and leave the car. I’d then take Moscow’s famous Metro right to my downtown office. This alone slice an hour or so off the morning commute, usually. In the evening, I’d reverse the trek, and take the Metro to XYZ Station, the last and closest terminal for the metro near our digs. Valosh would meet me at the station and drive me home. During the day, Valosh would have the car and drive Es, Tash, and Khris around Moscow for shopping, extracurricular trips or Khris to the Hippodrome for her horse riding lessons. It all worked out dandy. Well, perhaps later it did. I was still really rusty with Russian, both speaking and more importantly, reading the silly language. If you stopped in the path of the madding crowd to try and sound out the big board above the metro stations, you’d just get swept right along downstream. I ended up is some rather odd sections of town that way. Then, it’s stand in front of the big map they have at every Metro Station and try and decipher where the fuck you landed now. There was a reason for all this. I wasn’t going to be headed downtown much more after the initial meeting with my new company. I’d be flying out of Sheremetyevo Airport for foreign lands, of Domodedovo Airport for purely internal affairs. Getting to either airport, via car or train, was super easy, barely an inconvenience, from our new home out in the sticks of northwestern Moscow. Still, there was some time that I was left to my own devices on the Moscow Metro trains, wandering around the deep underground, purchasing strange and exotic things; odd candies for my girls. The ubiquitous flowers for my darling wife; as flowers in Russia are perhaps the number one gift there, right after vodka, and well, vodka. I mean, when in Rome and all that… I also got to commute with about 1.8 million of my closest friends on a daily basis. And I’m not exaggerating in the least. It’s odd, that in the hustle and bustle of massing crowds, day after day, you start to recognize people. Eventually, you’ll give a small wave. Then, if the accident will, you say something about “Bloody late trains”. Even though the Moscow Metro was a paragon of timeliness. Then, before you know it, you’re chatting along in strangled Russia with not just a single person, but a crowd that single person runs with. They all laughed at my attempts at Russian, but were most sympathetic and cheered that was trying to learn the language, rather than being the usual specimen of an Ugly American. They laughed solid minutes when I finally got them to understand that I’m not an Ugly American. I’m too overqualified. They helped me with my Russian, and also told me of the little dangers that lurked around every corner on the Moscow Metro for the uninitiated. Pickpockets. Sneak thieves. Pocket looters. Hooligans. It was good advice, as I was charged with carrying with me a new personal laptop computer. Since this was right after the wall fell and they were not cheap items even in the west, I‘d be under the cynosure of shifty eyes wanting to sneak my laptop out of its case and back home with them. I thanked them. I was never much for paranoid, but this was one of the first times I was living in, rather than just visiting, a city of over 13 million souls. Not every one of them was going to want to be my friend. So, radar up, I was on a higher status of alert. Billfold in zipped front pocket, and hands-on the strap of my laptop at all times whilst on the train. There were a batch of sneaky bastards. They’d slit your coat, since everyone was wearing a heavy coast in the winter, and help themselves to anything in the coat pockets. Or they’d slit purse strings, and when some hapless woman went to exit the train, the purse would stay behind as she was swept off onto the station’s landing. Pockets were picked, slitted, ripped, bumped; anything for a distraction. The worked deeply within the crowds and used them like natural camouflage. I was on high alert. For a week or so. Nothing happened, so, as usual, one’s guard goes down. Until that one fateful Thursday. Standing Room Only headed north to the Mitino Station when I feel something most unusual. I had a small lock on the laptop case, locking the two halves of the zipper together; it kept honest people honest. But it made for odd vibrations as the less than the honest character had cut the vinyl of my laptop case and had his hand in the case, trying to extract the little weighty computer out of that place and under his jacket. Unfortunately, I was a bit quicker than he was. I spun around and grabbed his hand while it was still deep within my sundered laptop case. I clamped down on his wrist with all I was worth. The sundered zipper began cutting into his fleshy wrist and he realized he was trapped. I had the laptop cases strap around my shoulder and I had his hand and wrist pinned in the laptop case. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while. As long as I had any say about the matter. He did, however, yelp, scream, and howl. He insisted that I release him immediately, as he had done nothing wrong. “«Извини, приятель. Я не понимаю по-русски».” ["Sorry, mate. I don't understand Russian."] I lied. This did not help his demeanor a little bit. I knew that there’d be a constable present when the train arrived at the next station; as there’s always a cop or two drifting around every time a train arrives; which is every 55-75 seconds on the Metro. My captive buddy knew that as well. He figured even if he was caught, he could smooth or sweet talk his way out of his predicament. Not this time, Chuckles. I redoubled my efforts and clamped down on his captive wrist even harder, letting him know I may not speak Russia so well, but I sure know the protocols of dragging a hooligan to the cops. Now my captive friend got belligerent. Not a good move as I was fully 50 pounds heavier and a 6” or so taller than he. I growled something ursine in his direction and he immediately calmed right down. He figured he’d rather take his chances with the Militisia rather than an enraged and outsized Amercanski. We arrived at the next station and although it wasn’t my regular stop, I’m certain it wasn’t his either as I physically dragged him off the train and over to the bored-looking cop standing next to the rather splendid fresco that occupied the far wall to this station. “Excuse me. Officer”, I said in English. “Seems I caught this chap trying to steal my laptop. I figured you’d know what to do with him.” The cop just stood there and looked at me blankly as I held onto to Herr Captive. Herr Captive began running off in rapid-fire Russian accusing me of all sorts of nasty and evil tricks. All, of course, total fabrications. Looks like I needed to double down. "Извините меня. Сотрудник”,[Excuse me, officer.”], I said in pretty fair Russia, if do say so myself. They both stood there goggling at me and my sudden not-too-bad-Russian language skills. “«Этот человек, которого я поймал, пытался украсть мой ноутбук. Буду признателен, если вы возьмете этого хулигана и заключите его в тюрьму».”["This person here I caught trying to steal my laptop.I'd appreciate it if you'd take this hooligan and incarcerate him."] I said. “You said you didn’t know Russian!”, the hooligan protested. “Yes. But I lied.” I replied. “Just like you know no English.” With that, the police office relieved me of my captive and slapped him in handcuffs; rather brusquely if you ask me. But no one did. When asked if I wanted to prefer charges, I replied that since it was a company laptop and I have to make an official report on the incident; I had no choice. With that, my friendly hooligan’s day, and in fact, next to several years probably turned rather sour. Crime? Time? Don’t do it if you can’t spare it? Oddly enough, apart from some corporate shenanigans later on, this was the one and only time any of us had any problems with scofflaws or hooligans. While in Russia. To be continued. (Although slightly later than normal...)
[Review] Da Bomb YSL Cassandra Top Handle Bag from TS Aaron
YSL is super popular on here but I noticed no one has reviewed the YSL Cassandra Top Handle bag which was introduced last year. It gives me retro ladylike vibes and I fell for it hard the first time I spotted it in the YSL store. When I saw that Marble Factory made it in a lovely rich Green color, I jumped on it from TS Aaron. Price: $270 including EMS shipping Rough Timeline: 10/3 Inquired about bag 10/7 Paid via PayPal 10/17 Receive PSP and Approved to ship 11/4 Arrives! Pictures: Factory Pictures My Pictures No PSPs due to lost phone Authentic Quality: 10/10 Fantastic quality. Leather feels supple and expensive. Graining is consistent. Stitching is straight and even. Piping is excellent, smooth with clean lines, no weird bumps or gaps. Everything is as you would expect of an expensive designer handbag. Accuracy: 9.8/10 Marble really captured the overall feel of the bag which is what I consider most important. Shape: Looks good to me. Shape is slightly trapezoidal with the bottom flared out a bit. The Fold over flap cover triangle shape also looks good and comes down halfway on the bag just like the original. Leather: Supple with a slight sheen. Caviar has very light graininess and feels like I would expect it to. Hardware: Feels sturdy and substantive. Color is aged gold as it should be. Bag has metal feet to protect its bottom. The clasp Marble did an outstanding job on. It’s quite unique and as far as I know the only YSL bag that features the special clasp. You open by tilting the YSL “L” to the right and down. Size: According to YSL website, dimensions are 9.6” x 7.8” x 4.5”. I measured basically that at 9.6” (Length at widest part) x 7.75” Height x 4.5” Width. Shoulder strap should be 19.7” according to online and I measure 19.8”. These are very minute differences so I consider the dimensions extremely accurate. Handles: Shape and height looks correct. Handles stand up all the time because the leather is firm, but the metal pieces connecting it to the bag tend to lie down. I’ve seen the YSL store displaying the bag with the metal connectors standing up but I’ve also seen a few in the same resting position as mine so I’m not concerned. However, mine does have trouble standing up consistently so minus 0.2. Seller: 10/10 Can’t say enough good things about Aaron. Really nice and patient and tries hard to please his customers. I text him in Chinese and use Google translate. He is very easy to talk to and polite. Overall: 10/10 This is a solid bag. I love the structure , the rich green color, the style and the price! It looks way more expensive than it is and has ample room to store daily belongings. Also the back pocket makes it really convenient to access my phone so I don’t have to keep opening the bag itself. The rep is basically indistinguishable from the auth in my eyes so much so that I don’t even think of it as a rep. Marble really nailed this one!
Hey everyone. I'm a long time lurker, and this happens to be my first post. I last upgraded in 2015 and I'm looking for a bit of a bump in performance over what I am currently running. Here's my current list: PCPartPicker Part List
Prices include shipping, taxes, rebates, and discounts
Total
$566.97
Generated by PCPartPicker 2020-08-16 20:09 EDT-0400
I chose the motherboard for future upgradeability, the RAM and CPU are stop gaps that will be upgraded again at the appropriate time. I plan to upgrade the GPU from my current 1070 to a 3000 series six months to a year after release. How much performance increase do you think I'll realize with my proposed upgrades? Do you have other recommendations? Games played: Overwatch, EVE Online, Magic Arena. I am looking to buy Horizon Zero Dawn soon.
Traditionalists often believe the best way to enjoy caviar is to eat it off the back of your hand, between the index finger and thumb. At a time when we’re not only concerned with the cleanliness but the health of our hands, we present a special package for the occasion! Sanitize and then indulge in a Caviar Bump! Choo Caviar Bump Kit Selections. Caviar Bump Kit Selections. Botanical Hand Sanitizer Only Hackleback 1.0 oz Royal White Sturgeon 1.0 oz Russian Osetra 1.0 oz Qty. Add to Cart Traditionalists often believe the best way to enjoy caviar is to eat it off the back of your hand, between the index As New Years Eve approaches, Rob Tryon from Effing Seafood puts together caviar bumps. “The Bump Bar is playfully named for the way you can order the eggs - by the gram - and is based on the way caviar is purchased and graded in the industry. When inspecting a tin, buyers put a little mound on their hands to visually inspect the eggs and warm it up for the tasting. The California Caviar Company, the sustainable seafood purveyor, has rebranded its tasting room as the Bump Bar, which is dedicated to the practice of caviar bumps Cherish the Holidays. Give an unforgettable experience with the gift of the Calvisius Caviar Bump. Oct 26, 2017 - Head to our Instagram to learn what a caviar bump is
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