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Granted a lot is recycled, but sometimes I can't help thinking that the move to paperless promotion, whenever it comes might be good, not least of all if it were to stop me having my straight line across a crossing stopped by some student hell-bent on pressing a flyer into my hand for whichever political party is pressing the flesh at the time I happen to pop on the tram or bus. Flyers, event plans, and arrays of pamphlets, leaflets at every corner, all get churned out. The only downside to all the wonderful events that the City of Vienna offers us all is the amount of wasted printed material. I love Vienna as summer turns to autumn, impending Wildwochen, the return of thick Kürbiscremesuppe, evenings of boiling up vast quantities of Suppengrün to make stock to ensure that no chance to make a soup is missed out on, and time for stews to be made to warm the cockles and look forward to after bracing walks. A friend invited us over for some food - and we left loaded with Marillenkuchen, as they'd been over-zealous doing some baking - another generalisation quashed about the Viennese being mean hosts. I also spared my brother the Polizeitag in the 9th district. My wife's nephew was out we we called - he was off at Tag des Sports at Heldenplatz, but we passed on that and decided to seek out a Heurige to recover - had my brother come next week I would have taken him to the Weinwanderweg. It was a useful stop on the way to see my sister-in-law, who always insists on showing my brother her latest paintings whenever he comes over, and usual continues with her opening a Sturm in her Atelier, and with us returning home squiffy, but that is another story. This weekend I inflicted the Mistfest on him - a trip down the S45 and a chance to see the MA48 showing off all their machinery to the general public. The Filmfest am Rathausplatz is over for another year and there are a few good weeks before the descent into Christmas Markets and the new swarm of grockles. The level of tourists seems to fall away and the Viennese are able to reclaim the city. September is when Vienna gets exciting again. He's also learned the hard way about the budget airlines over the years - having tried to do anything to not fly to Vienna when coming to see me, to make a point that it was possible. I usually have a dig at my brother's expense asking if his luggage has been to Italy - as happened in the opening weeks of Terminal 5. Terminal 3 at Schwechat impressed him - it had opened on schedule and was not the nightmare that Terminal 5 at Heathrow was. He'd just packed his youngest off to University and held the need to reward himself. With my wife off on a Projektwoche with her young charges and me enjoying my new life of leisure, I felt the need to goad him into coming over. I use his ever more infrequent visits to firmly pooh-pooh his sweeping generalisations over the phone.
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And if you did, you'd be wrong.As my brother deigned to visit Vienna again - he claimed after his last visit that he had seen everything the city and Austria had to offer - I suggested that he visited during the shoulder season, when Vienna becomes Viennese again.
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If you ever met me, you would not think me a chav. Because they're for my benefit, not yours.īy the way, I'm a thoroughly middle-class, middle-aged man, who has successfully run my own business for over 20 years. It may be tacky and horrific to you, GP, but to me it means a lot and, even if you ever met me, you would never see any of them. I had it done on the inside of my left upper arm, so it will always be next to my heart, because I will never stop loving her. One of mine in memory of a deceased close companion. thus completely missing the point of why I have them. My sister once said to me that there was 'no point' in mine because 'people couldn't see them'. Others get them because they are very meaningful to them. Some just get them because they think it makes them look hard / cool / 'with it'. Like anything, people's reasons for getting them vary hugely. If you want to look like a chav then get one.
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