Overheard on the bus today:
Boy: How do you make a venetian blind?
Girl: How?
Boy: Poke him in the eye!
Girl: Haha that's really funny!
Boy: Yeah, here's another one: how much cocaine did Charlie Sheen do?
Girl: How much?
Boy: Enough to kill Two and a Half Men!
Girl: Hahaha! Wait, wait, I have one! Ok: did you know that after the Cold War there was enough
nuclear warfare to destroy the world 27 times over!
Boy: ...
Oh, the awkward moment when you're swapping jokes and someone brings up nuclear weaponry.
Boy: Is that... funny?
Girl: yeah! Like, DESTROY the world! 27 times! HAHAHAHA
[silence that went on forever]
Boy: um. This is my stop.
There is a lesson in this: never assume that the person in front of you wearing headphones hasn't turned off the music and is listening to your conversation.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Take me awaaaaaaaaaaay!
This post was going to be called "Bucket full of Tears" but I realised that I had already made a post like that. I then realised that I am not nearly interesting enough to come up with original titles every post and should just pick random words to confuse you. Anyway, the whole "bucket full 'o' tears" made me think of the song that goes "I gotta a pocketful a pocketful of sunshine, I got a love and I know that it's all mine." So now, as punishment for being demanding and expecting new posts to be up every few minutes (social life? PPFT), that song is now stuck in your head. Mwahahahaha.
Anyway, the reason for the tears/crying reference is that I have been sobbing a lot recently. Interestingly enough, it is not (only) because I am emotionally unhinged...
WAIT A MOMENT. I have to go skip Defying Gravity on my iPod playing through the speakers because it makes me feel like a broadway music nerd. Which is only partly true, because the only broadway shows I like are the ones that involve hard drugs and "the good ol' circle jerkle", as Nathan would say, (RENT and Spring Awakening). Also, anything where Lea Michele does her weird pouty thing where her face becomes about a million metres wide. Which I say with the utmost love.
THE POINT IS THAT I AM CRYING BECAUSE I AM DROWNING IN ONIONS.
I wanted to add an inappropriate word in there because onions make me want to add inappropriate words. I will instead say half-swear words such as 'ruddy', 'sodding' and 'golly'.
The sodding onion soup recipe (one of the three recipes I can make) needs 4 onions, and I stupidly thought "but why not make double the amount so I can eat it for weeks and not have to make another meal for ages?"
Why not? WHY SODDING NOT?
Because it hurts, you abominable (ruddy) twat, Anna Levy.
So now I am sitting here, clutching my eyes and whining like a clutching, whining, blind and miserable thing, and writing it all down instead of graphing levels of ... ammonia? Sulphate? I have no idea, because I don't listen and chemistry makes me want to shoot myself in the eye.
Well, just had to add flour (why??) to the massive vat of onion, spilt it everywhere, then realised that the pot would be too small to add 6 cups of stock to, so had to scoop 18 tons of onion into a bigger pot, and brought to the boil. What the fresh hell (like my innovative half-swears?) is THE BOIL. I know what it means - I am not quite that pitiful in the kitchen - but to me it sounds like THE BOIL is some kind of mafia boss, and when some calzone stupidly cooks enough onion to kill all the viruses in the world, they must be sent to "talk" to THE BOIL, who then ties them up and throws them in a lake.
That was a stupid paragraph.
In other news, The Outcasts Of has applied for Emerge, the music fest coming up. This is a quick and desperate plug for that. Just saying.
I have now removed the onions from THE BOIL. It is 9.23. We will eat in about half an hour. Solid effort, I think.
GOOD NIGHT.
Anyway, the reason for the tears/crying reference is that I have been sobbing a lot recently. Interestingly enough, it is not (only) because I am emotionally unhinged...
WAIT A MOMENT. I have to go skip Defying Gravity on my iPod playing through the speakers because it makes me feel like a broadway music nerd. Which is only partly true, because the only broadway shows I like are the ones that involve hard drugs and "the good ol' circle jerkle", as Nathan would say, (RENT and Spring Awakening). Also, anything where Lea Michele does her weird pouty thing where her face becomes about a million metres wide. Which I say with the utmost love.
THE POINT IS THAT I AM CRYING BECAUSE I AM DROWNING IN ONIONS.
I wanted to add an inappropriate word in there because onions make me want to add inappropriate words. I will instead say half-swear words such as 'ruddy', 'sodding' and 'golly'.
The sodding onion soup recipe (one of the three recipes I can make) needs 4 onions, and I stupidly thought "but why not make double the amount so I can eat it for weeks and not have to make another meal for ages?"
Why not? WHY SODDING NOT?
Because it hurts, you abominable (ruddy) twat, Anna Levy.
So now I am sitting here, clutching my eyes and whining like a clutching, whining, blind and miserable thing, and writing it all down instead of graphing levels of ... ammonia? Sulphate? I have no idea, because I don't listen and chemistry makes me want to shoot myself in the eye.
Well, just had to add flour (why??) to the massive vat of onion, spilt it everywhere, then realised that the pot would be too small to add 6 cups of stock to, so had to scoop 18 tons of onion into a bigger pot, and brought to the boil. What the fresh hell (like my innovative half-swears?) is THE BOIL. I know what it means - I am not quite that pitiful in the kitchen - but to me it sounds like THE BOIL is some kind of mafia boss, and when some calzone stupidly cooks enough onion to kill all the viruses in the world, they must be sent to "talk" to THE BOIL, who then ties them up and throws them in a lake.
That was a stupid paragraph.
In other news, The Outcasts Of has applied for Emerge, the music fest coming up. This is a quick and desperate plug for that. Just saying.
I have now removed the onions from THE BOIL. It is 9.23. We will eat in about half an hour. Solid effort, I think.
GOOD NIGHT.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
You Know What?
You know what, that post was so pitiful that I have brought you a lovely gif as an apology.
See. Nathan agrees.
See. Nathan agrees.
(P.S. Approach me in a dark and seedy alleyway, give me the password, and I shall in return give you all of Misfits, season 1 and 2, on a USB. TELL NO-ONE.)
Katy Perry and some unrelated uninteresting things
She is a God. An incredibly talented, beautiful and hilarious God. Here is a very dodgy video of her, dressed in a purple cat suit (complete with tail), singing ET.
I am obsessed with her. So much so that I bought ridiculously expensive merchandise.
I will only say that even if you are the manliest manly man in the universe, go see Katy Perry. It is so far at the same level as U2, as far as talent and awesomeness goes.
Also, here is a picture of us with someone. We didn't know who she was, but she had a cool hat and was American, so we forced ourselves on her (not like that - shut up).
So that was incredible.
ALSO, I am very happy. Mostly because my dad arrived back from South Africa visiting the fam yesterday. And amongst the billions of beaded animals he brought back, he also brought me a clock that my grandmother made me!
In other news, yesterday I spent the day helping Yani film her music video for school. I spent most of it with a sheet on my head. Photos to come. Be excited.
This post is very full of me and my life, which, even though it might seem interesting to me, is very dull for people who aren't me. So I should talk about something mildly amusing. HM.
I am too lazy. I will instead organise myself for the gig (party) at the end of the week. Rob and I have been hard at work doing stuff.
There is Rob unwinding a cable.
WHY AM I SO UNINTERESTING TODAY??
There has been a lack of fuckwittage recently, which is good. Maybe people are starting to realise that their purpose in life is to love and adore me, and so have been getting their act together and de-fuckwittaging.
Sorry this was so boring.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
10 hours
Bonjour all.
First of all, blogger has been down for the last four days and it has been making me mad. It's not that I particularly wanted to post anything, it's just that the fact that it wasn't letting me made me insane. It reduced me to a sad pathetic human that could only sit at my desk and click 'refresh' with increasing intensity until I got hungry or fell asleep. I know, I lead a scintillating life.
There is also a story about me running through my house naked and covered in olive oil, but you will have to bribe me to get that one out of me. Even though my stats say that you are all so obsessed with genitals that you viewed my last post sixty times a day. I have to say that if that is your cup of tea then there are many other websites that you can visit for that kind of thing... (please don't leave me.)
Anyway, this post is called '10 hours' because I have been singing for approximately 10 hours today. Be impressed. I went to Rob's at 8 this morning, after catching a bus to the middle of no-where, where he lives, and panicking because a strange man sitting behind me winked at me repeatedly and it was early and the bus driver was a miserable old git who wouldn't lift his head if I was molested. I was very close to turning around and yelling "I WILL NOT BE YOUR CHILD BRIDE", but rational thoughts got the better of me and so I sat there passive-aggressively glaring at everything and giving off rape-proof vibes. But he got off at the top of a hill, after winking at me again, and so I tried to breathe like a normal person again and not... something that breathes very fast. (not sure what analogy I was going for there...) That did set the tone for the rest of the journey though, and from then on every tree hid a rapist, behind every building was a murderer and the bus driver was psychotic and at some point going to rip off his clothes, raise his hands to the sky, shout some crazy prayer and drive us off a cliff.
You know what they say - just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not trying to kill you.
THE POINT IS that we recorded a lot of cool things INCLUDING the song I wrote!! It will be up on our myspace soon (yes, I know, myspace is lame, move on with your life).
We also video recorded some stuff, which is being uploaded as we speak. Or you read. Like THIS.
The quality looks like the camera was very very drunk, but apparently youtube fixes it over time. We shall see.
ALSO, we submitted our Woodford entry forms!!! YEE-HA.
Sorry, I am a cowboy at heart. Point is that forms are completed like completed things on completing pills. My similes are failing today.
I am seeing Katy Perry tomorrow. I have mentioned this before, but it needs mentioning again, because I very rarely do cool things. You would know.
Update on the Galaxy-vendetta: I went to the Optus shop to ask the Optus man about it and he demonstrated his competence by looking baffled then going to a computer, googling it and asking if I'd restarted it. RAGE. NO, you spiky-haired fail of a person, NO. I would have kicked him in the throat, but he deserved much worse. Like paper cuts and lemon juice. Yeah, it hurts just thinking about it.
Fuckwittage, why is the world so full of it? I have a theory that as generations get more stupid, they generate more fuckwittage which fills up the world, thus creating a great buildup of it, and this is what is ruining the ozone layer and melting the penguins, etc. I hope you know that if I was God, there would be no fuckwittage, only love and cake.
HAHAHAH, I was looking up ways to say goodbye, because ten hours of singing has rotted my brain too much to think of anything but the very boring 'bye', and I found this:
May you never have your soul absorbed into the Netherworld by a power-hungry televangelist
and
May you never drown in a vat of monkey semen.
Genius and hilarity abounds. If we had more people like this, the fuckwittage crisis would no longer be an issue.
First of all, blogger has been down for the last four days and it has been making me mad. It's not that I particularly wanted to post anything, it's just that the fact that it wasn't letting me made me insane. It reduced me to a sad pathetic human that could only sit at my desk and click 'refresh' with increasing intensity until I got hungry or fell asleep. I know, I lead a scintillating life.
There is also a story about me running through my house naked and covered in olive oil, but you will have to bribe me to get that one out of me. Even though my stats say that you are all so obsessed with genitals that you viewed my last post sixty times a day. I have to say that if that is your cup of tea then there are many other websites that you can visit for that kind of thing... (please don't leave me.)
Anyway, this post is called '10 hours' because I have been singing for approximately 10 hours today. Be impressed. I went to Rob's at 8 this morning, after catching a bus to the middle of no-where, where he lives, and panicking because a strange man sitting behind me winked at me repeatedly and it was early and the bus driver was a miserable old git who wouldn't lift his head if I was molested. I was very close to turning around and yelling "I WILL NOT BE YOUR CHILD BRIDE", but rational thoughts got the better of me and so I sat there passive-aggressively glaring at everything and giving off rape-proof vibes. But he got off at the top of a hill, after winking at me again, and so I tried to breathe like a normal person again and not... something that breathes very fast. (not sure what analogy I was going for there...) That did set the tone for the rest of the journey though, and from then on every tree hid a rapist, behind every building was a murderer and the bus driver was psychotic and at some point going to rip off his clothes, raise his hands to the sky, shout some crazy prayer and drive us off a cliff.
You know what they say - just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not trying to kill you.
THE POINT IS that we recorded a lot of cool things INCLUDING the song I wrote!! It will be up on our myspace soon (yes, I know, myspace is lame, move on with your life).
We also video recorded some stuff, which is being uploaded as we speak. Or you read. Like THIS.
The quality looks like the camera was very very drunk, but apparently youtube fixes it over time. We shall see.
ALSO, we submitted our Woodford entry forms!!! YEE-HA.
Sorry, I am a cowboy at heart. Point is that forms are completed like completed things on completing pills. My similes are failing today.
I am seeing Katy Perry tomorrow. I have mentioned this before, but it needs mentioning again, because I very rarely do cool things. You would know.
Update on the Galaxy-vendetta: I went to the Optus shop to ask the Optus man about it and he demonstrated his competence by looking baffled then going to a computer, googling it and asking if I'd restarted it. RAGE. NO, you spiky-haired fail of a person, NO. I would have kicked him in the throat, but he deserved much worse. Like paper cuts and lemon juice. Yeah, it hurts just thinking about it.
Fuckwittage, why is the world so full of it? I have a theory that as generations get more stupid, they generate more fuckwittage which fills up the world, thus creating a great buildup of it, and this is what is ruining the ozone layer and melting the penguins, etc. I hope you know that if I was God, there would be no fuckwittage, only love and cake.
HAHAHAH, I was looking up ways to say goodbye, because ten hours of singing has rotted my brain too much to think of anything but the very boring 'bye', and I found this:
May you never have your soul absorbed into the Netherworld by a power-hungry televangelist
and
May you never drown in a vat of monkey semen.
Genius and hilarity abounds. If we had more people like this, the fuckwittage crisis would no longer be an issue.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Genitals, in general
Note: this post is not as PG as usual.
Dear creator of the Samsung Galaxy S,
You fuckwit, I will kick you in the throat.
Why would you make it impossible to sync with iTunes? What happened to you that made you so bitter? Did your mother not love you enough? No wonder, you miserable cow.
Sincerely,
Me.
Apart from the fact that I am at war with this stupid piece of technology, funny stuff has been happening to me recently.
FIRSTLY, and most recently, I just unintentionally had a whole conversation with my mum and brother about genitals.
Mum: Greg's doing a study on haemophilia, can you tell him anything about it?
Me: Well, yes... we did this in psychology.
Mum: Well isn't it something to do with genes?
Me: Um, well it's a gene mutation, but not genetic... it's pretty rare.
Mum: No, 1/5000 people have it!
Me: wow... that's... a lot. You'd think people would notice more.
Mum: Well there's a movie about Russian heirs to the throne escaping in the time of the Bolsheviks and
the one son had a lot of trouble because he was so ill from it.
Me: I don't think it makes you ill, necessarily. Just confused, I guess.
Mum: what? He couldn't stop bleeding!
Me: WHAT.
Mum: what are you talking about?
Me: Um, hermaphroditism.
AS IT TURNS OUT, haemophilia is a blood clotting disorder. WHO KNEW? It also turns out that people with haemophilia only have one set of genitals. WHO KNEW?
Second funny thing that happened was that in life drawing class, the model came in, took off all her clothes and pranced around a bit, much to our surprise, because she's not meant to be nude. There was also a crowd of very intrigued ten-year-olds in the class next to us looking through the window. Well at least their parents will be able to spare them the facts-of-life talk now...
This was a very genitals-orientated post, apart from the throat kicking bit above. What can you do, sometimes genitals just spring up in conversation and you just have to grin and bear it and possibly enjoy it. Que sera sera.
Another thing that annoyed me (moving away from genitals), is that the guy who made the Mr Men and Little Miss books got on google's homepage. How did he do that?? It is my ultimate goal to be remembered by google every ten years after my death. Not fair that some children's author can get on it, how hard is it to add Mr or Little Miss to an adjective and then draw a picture? NOT HARD AT ALL, is the answer. I will invent something very amazing and then be remembered on google for ever more. Watch this space.
Tally ho.
Dear creator of the Samsung Galaxy S,
You fuckwit, I will kick you in the throat.
Why would you make it impossible to sync with iTunes? What happened to you that made you so bitter? Did your mother not love you enough? No wonder, you miserable cow.
Sincerely,
Me.
Apart from the fact that I am at war with this stupid piece of technology, funny stuff has been happening to me recently.
FIRSTLY, and most recently, I just unintentionally had a whole conversation with my mum and brother about genitals.
Mum: Greg's doing a study on haemophilia, can you tell him anything about it?
Me: Well, yes... we did this in psychology.
Mum: Well isn't it something to do with genes?
Me: Um, well it's a gene mutation, but not genetic... it's pretty rare.
Mum: No, 1/5000 people have it!
Me: wow... that's... a lot. You'd think people would notice more.
Mum: Well there's a movie about Russian heirs to the throne escaping in the time of the Bolsheviks and
the one son had a lot of trouble because he was so ill from it.
Me: I don't think it makes you ill, necessarily. Just confused, I guess.
Mum: what? He couldn't stop bleeding!
Me: WHAT.
Mum: what are you talking about?
Me: Um, hermaphroditism.
AS IT TURNS OUT, haemophilia is a blood clotting disorder. WHO KNEW? It also turns out that people with haemophilia only have one set of genitals. WHO KNEW?
Second funny thing that happened was that in life drawing class, the model came in, took off all her clothes and pranced around a bit, much to our surprise, because she's not meant to be nude. There was also a crowd of very intrigued ten-year-olds in the class next to us looking through the window. Well at least their parents will be able to spare them the facts-of-life talk now...
This was a very genitals-orientated post, apart from the throat kicking bit above. What can you do, sometimes genitals just spring up in conversation and you just have to grin and bear it and possibly enjoy it. Que sera sera.
Another thing that annoyed me (moving away from genitals), is that the guy who made the Mr Men and Little Miss books got on google's homepage. How did he do that?? It is my ultimate goal to be remembered by google every ten years after my death. Not fair that some children's author can get on it, how hard is it to add Mr or Little Miss to an adjective and then draw a picture? NOT HARD AT ALL, is the answer. I will invent something very amazing and then be remembered on google for ever more. Watch this space.
Tally ho.
Monday, May 09, 2011
Sunday, May 08, 2011
All you fine mothers
I was going to start this post with a 'yo mama' joke, in sticking with the mother's day theme, but then I couldn't think of any.
I know what you're thinking, so I will say it for you: cool story, bro.
Yes, mothers of the world unite. I went on a funrun with mine mutter. I say funrun, but I walked. With all the parents and their toddlers. But it was at an ungodly hour and so I was too tired to be embarrassed and so just continued to trudge along wishing I'd brought a thicker jumper and avoiding the crazy people in pink tutus.
But seriously, folks, it was for a good cause - the National Breast Cancer Foundation. Everyone was given a piece of paper to stick on to themselves as they ran/walked and it said "I'm doing this for...". Seeing what people wrote was very moving (except for the guy with his girlfriend, who wrote "brownie points") and made me feel like a good person. And all together we raised $320! So if you feel like being a good person today, go HERE and donate or check out other fundraisers. I know there's a picnic coming up. That involves a great deal of food. And if I know you, you liiiiike food.
I wished I had taken photos of all the overweight bald men heaving themselves along the gravel and their very cute children who skipped along behind them, but I forgot the camera. Also, I am lazy. So this will be yet another rant about things that do not interest most people.
I saw another movie: the original Jesus Christ Superstar. And as a note, because I am irritable this evening, just because I roll with the red-sea pedestrians, it does not mean that I will burst into tears at the mention of Christianity. Especially with this much dancing.
Oh the seventies. Wasn't there a song about that? "Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair/ in '77 and '69 revolution was in the air." You know it, everyone does. Anyway, she would have been a massive disappointment in the seventies, because punk rockers don't wear flowers in their hair. They look like this.
This song makes me so so so happy. And the bongoist is a legend.
AND, continuing the music news section crossing over with the awesome-things-that-occasionally-happen-to-me section, I am going to see KATY PERRY next weekend. Hahahahahah!
I am trying to think of interesting things to say.
Here is a short except of Chase telling a Yo Mama joke.
That is all.
I know what you're thinking, so I will say it for you: cool story, bro.
Yes, mothers of the world unite. I went on a funrun with mine mutter. I say funrun, but I walked. With all the parents and their toddlers. But it was at an ungodly hour and so I was too tired to be embarrassed and so just continued to trudge along wishing I'd brought a thicker jumper and avoiding the crazy people in pink tutus.
But seriously, folks, it was for a good cause - the National Breast Cancer Foundation. Everyone was given a piece of paper to stick on to themselves as they ran/walked and it said "I'm doing this for...". Seeing what people wrote was very moving (except for the guy with his girlfriend, who wrote "brownie points") and made me feel like a good person. And all together we raised $320! So if you feel like being a good person today, go HERE and donate or check out other fundraisers. I know there's a picnic coming up. That involves a great deal of food. And if I know you, you liiiiike food.
I wished I had taken photos of all the overweight bald men heaving themselves along the gravel and their very cute children who skipped along behind them, but I forgot the camera. Also, I am lazy. So this will be yet another rant about things that do not interest most people.
I saw another movie: the original Jesus Christ Superstar. And as a note, because I am irritable this evening, just because I roll with the red-sea pedestrians, it does not mean that I will burst into tears at the mention of Christianity. Especially with this much dancing.
Oh the seventies. Wasn't there a song about that? "Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair/ in '77 and '69 revolution was in the air." You know it, everyone does. Anyway, she would have been a massive disappointment in the seventies, because punk rockers don't wear flowers in their hair. They look like this.
NO FLOWERS.
In other news, I have a new favourite song!
This song makes me so so so happy. And the bongoist is a legend.
AND, continuing the music news section crossing over with the awesome-things-that-occasionally-happen-to-me section, I am going to see KATY PERRY next weekend. Hahahahahah!
I am trying to think of interesting things to say.
Here is a short except of Chase telling a Yo Mama joke.
That is all.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Yes.
No more needs to be said.
As a reward, here's an awesome remix of Marina & The Diamonds.
I really want to talk about how I am vair excited for a certain freak-themed party, and how my inspiration is the freakiest of freaks, the Gaga, but I feel like this post should be devoted entirely to the THOUSAND thing.
So.
Yes.
Monday, May 02, 2011
WALLACE
It's been a while. How have you been? Oh good. I don't really care.
NEWS. I ... wait for it ... wrote a song. I am so happy I am broadcasting it all over the world, there will be billboards on the nearest highway to you very soon, BBC news, the whole deal. It happened. Osama is small news in comparison. Partly because whenever anyone mentions his name, all I can hear in my head is the song at the very end of this amusing video. Obama, Obama, is gonna get Osama (HEY!)...
Now I hate to be one of those people who hint at secrets but never tell them, but the hearing of my song must be prolonged a tad. Mostly because my musical other half (Rob) has gone AWOL and is sitting somewhere in the wilderness without technology and being generally unreachable, so he has no idea about my mammoth achievement. So when he hears it (maybe years from now) we will work on something to do with it, or scrap it completely, making this post mostly pointless. You're welcome.
IN OTHER NEWS, I saw a movie which I really enjoyed. Oh yes, another one of these. You must think that I really don't do anything but watch movies, but I'm not that pro. That's why, when I see something really obvious that the rest of the world has already seen, talked about and got over, the world stops for me. And I blog about it. And you all yawn and/or virtually ruffle my hair affectionately. So this is another one of those moments.
But first, two things are bothering me. Firstly, about the first line of this post, where I said I didn't care. I'm sorry, that was rude. I do care. I love you.
Secondly, is me singing a song about Osama disrespectful? Unsure... maybe I should state my mind to clear things up. Of course terrorism is appalling and must be stopped, 9/11 was an abomination and should never be repeated and I suppose the person behind it coming to death (justice?) is a good thing... maybe. Of course I feel empathetic towards the horrible pain of those who lost their loved ones in terrorist attacks, but I'm uneasy because I dislike anyone dictating who should have the right to live or not. Because that's where things like terrorism and homicides and genocides come from, so I figure it's hypocritical to kill someone for supposedly the worst crime they could have committed - killing someone or ones. Not sure how this fun and lighthearted post turned this dark, but I suppose it's all everyone can talk about so it's bound to happen. Anyway, conclusively, think of me as anti-war, anti-death in any capacity.
THERE. Conscience clear(er). Let's return to the movie, because I'm trashy like that.
It was Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, which I watched kind of for want of something better to do. And to my complete surprise, loved it! As someone who has never owned or had particular passion for gameboys, playstation, xbox, wii, etc (yes, I know, shock horror) and someone who, when handed a controller of any variety, just stabs random buttons and prays not to die, I didn't think the video game vibe would be my thang. But no, the coolness of the effects and the funny phrases and hilarious characters - Michael Cera is more than just a characterless blob in this movie!! (cough cough Juno cough cough) - really got to me. And the punk soundtrack - love love love love.
Favourite song:
Favourite character: WALLACE.
I seem to have developed a habit of falling in love with the hilarious supporting characters. OH WALLACE.
Damn, I have to go make curry. Unusual parting comment, I know. Unfortunately my passion for cooking only extends to things that have about 5 cups of sugar in them, so this is not buttering my muffin.
Remember to love and worship me, also to visit my tumblr because it is a perfect time waster and mildly amusing.
Pip pip (in honour of the Royal Wedding, which I watched some of, because I thought I should. Yes, she looked beautiful; yes, he is balding; yes, the kiss was lame; now calm yo tits, everyone.)
NEWS. I ... wait for it ... wrote a song. I am so happy I am broadcasting it all over the world, there will be billboards on the nearest highway to you very soon, BBC news, the whole deal. It happened. Osama is small news in comparison. Partly because whenever anyone mentions his name, all I can hear in my head is the song at the very end of this amusing video. Obama, Obama, is gonna get Osama (HEY!)...
Now I hate to be one of those people who hint at secrets but never tell them, but the hearing of my song must be prolonged a tad. Mostly because my musical other half (Rob) has gone AWOL and is sitting somewhere in the wilderness without technology and being generally unreachable, so he has no idea about my mammoth achievement. So when he hears it (maybe years from now) we will work on something to do with it, or scrap it completely, making this post mostly pointless. You're welcome.
IN OTHER NEWS, I saw a movie which I really enjoyed. Oh yes, another one of these. You must think that I really don't do anything but watch movies, but I'm not that pro. That's why, when I see something really obvious that the rest of the world has already seen, talked about and got over, the world stops for me. And I blog about it. And you all yawn and/or virtually ruffle my hair affectionately. So this is another one of those moments.
But first, two things are bothering me. Firstly, about the first line of this post, where I said I didn't care. I'm sorry, that was rude. I do care. I love you.
Secondly, is me singing a song about Osama disrespectful? Unsure... maybe I should state my mind to clear things up. Of course terrorism is appalling and must be stopped, 9/11 was an abomination and should never be repeated and I suppose the person behind it coming to death (justice?) is a good thing... maybe. Of course I feel empathetic towards the horrible pain of those who lost their loved ones in terrorist attacks, but I'm uneasy because I dislike anyone dictating who should have the right to live or not. Because that's where things like terrorism and homicides and genocides come from, so I figure it's hypocritical to kill someone for supposedly the worst crime they could have committed - killing someone or ones. Not sure how this fun and lighthearted post turned this dark, but I suppose it's all everyone can talk about so it's bound to happen. Anyway, conclusively, think of me as anti-war, anti-death in any capacity.
THERE. Conscience clear(er). Let's return to the movie, because I'm trashy like that.
It was Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, which I watched kind of for want of something better to do. And to my complete surprise, loved it! As someone who has never owned or had particular passion for gameboys, playstation, xbox, wii, etc (yes, I know, shock horror) and someone who, when handed a controller of any variety, just stabs random buttons and prays not to die, I didn't think the video game vibe would be my thang. But no, the coolness of the effects and the funny phrases and hilarious characters - Michael Cera is more than just a characterless blob in this movie!! (cough cough Juno cough cough) - really got to me. And the punk soundtrack - love love love love.
Favourite song:
Favourite character: WALLACE.
I seem to have developed a habit of falling in love with the hilarious supporting characters. OH WALLACE.
Damn, I have to go make curry. Unusual parting comment, I know. Unfortunately my passion for cooking only extends to things that have about 5 cups of sugar in them, so this is not buttering my muffin.
Remember to love and worship me, also to visit my tumblr because it is a perfect time waster and mildly amusing.
Pip pip (in honour of the Royal Wedding, which I watched some of, because I thought I should. Yes, she looked beautiful; yes, he is balding; yes, the kiss was lame; now calm yo tits, everyone.)
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