Thank God I remembered to ask my former boss for all the holiday pay I haven't used. This week I found myself with an extra $1000 to spend on being young and wild and free and other cliches I don't actually adhere to. But last night I went out and got so drunk that I was questioning the nature of existence and reality between cascades of vomit until I'd filled a bucket to the brim with a yellowish mixture of whiskey and vodka. The hand that wasn't being used to hold this cauldron of foul potion upright was busy writing a thesis on Plato's allegory of the cave. That's a massive exaggeration, but it's funny how sometimes after a few drinks some of us tend to feel smarter even though, objectively speaking, we may be doing something foolish. Like setting fire to our pants.
It was all because I went with some friends to see Ted. We thought it would be fun to sneak some Jack Daniels in there so we could watch this no doubt riotously entertaining film as we stirred a tiny bit of Jack into Coke. But when we got there it was sold out and we had to see some Adam Sandler shitfest instead. Because of this the alcohol was gone within fifteen minutes and then all we were left with was the movie. From what I can remember, Adam Sandler played a washed-up celebrity, the guy from the Lonely Island was his son and Gossip Girl was his fiance. As usual Sandler was talking in a strange voice and was acting like a man-child. Only this time he wasn't holding a golf club or a magical TV remote. Vanilla Ice was in the movie too and so was the guy from Heroes. Wait, I just remembered that James Caan was in this movie. Why???!!!
Thankfully there isn't much I can remember. It was horrible but there were some genuinely funny moments...I think. But I can also think of a better movie about fathers and sons with James Caan in it. Marlon Brando plays the father and Al Pacino and Caan are his sons. It's a little more serious than this flick and maybe you know which one I'm talking about. It's pretty good. If you like bad movies with Adam Sandler you should definitely check it out. Anyway, Adam Sandler sucks and after the movie was over we set out to cleanse our memories of it for good.
Saturday, 30 June 2012
Sunday, 24 June 2012
Taco Money
I just went for a drive and found I was a nervous, sweaty, shaking, pants-wetting wreck. After all this time spent trying to get comfortable behind the wheel so I can pass the fucking test it feels like I've gone back in time to when I was first learning how to drive. The car was a manual and my instructor was an intimidating German who moved to Australia after escaping the wrath of Bruce Willis in Die Hard. Not the best first person to share a car with. Maybe it has something to do with that movie I watched last night which had a car accident in it. Ewan McGregor was a pychiatrist. Naomi Watts was his girlfriend. It was fucking horrible. So was the accident.
Because I'm worried this blog will slowly turn into nothing but rants about movies, I've been thinking of starting another one. A film review one. A place where I can say "Hey I just watched X and it sucked hard!" But that would require a degree of effort which probably isn't worth investing since as soon as semester two rolls around I won't often get the chance to watch movies.
In the meantime, having tossed employment aside like a dirty tea towel, I've got all the time in the world. So I have two choices:
The end.
Because I'm worried this blog will slowly turn into nothing but rants about movies, I've been thinking of starting another one. A film review one. A place where I can say "Hey I just watched X and it sucked hard!" But that would require a degree of effort which probably isn't worth investing since as soon as semester two rolls around I won't often get the chance to watch movies.
In the meantime, having tossed employment aside like a dirty tea towel, I've got all the time in the world. So I have two choices:
- Get another job
- Spend all my hard-earned taco money on alcohol and ravage my liver.
The end.
Friday, 22 June 2012
MAN CAT!
Well I've finished up my job as a Mexican. As I rode out on the back of a donkey amid hordes of hat-dancers, flamenco guitarists and people waving maracas, I knew that I had reached the end of a era.
But that's not important now. What is important is the startling problem we face as a human race. Yesterday I was informed that Frankencat watches television. I thought nothing of it, since cats are often attracted to strange lights. But then, during dinner, he started begging for food. I'm aware that this is also typical pet behaviour. My only concern is that he has developed a system for begging, one which involves sitting at one owner's feet for a certain amount of time before moving on to another owner. In other words, he has fallbacks; a Plan B. This is a human concept. Further research has brought me to the conclusion that he is evolving; that he is becoming more and more human. He is becoming some kind of...Cat Man...or.....................................
............................................Man........................................Cat............................
If our pets are taking on our humanly characteristics, then that means we now have competition. The planet may not seem big enough for people to co-exist alongside another intelligent civilisation. But it looks like we're just going to have to share. Our pets are evolving out of domestication and we can't afford to make enemies like Man Cat.
But that's not important now. What is important is the startling problem we face as a human race. Yesterday I was informed that Frankencat watches television. I thought nothing of it, since cats are often attracted to strange lights. But then, during dinner, he started begging for food. I'm aware that this is also typical pet behaviour. My only concern is that he has developed a system for begging, one which involves sitting at one owner's feet for a certain amount of time before moving on to another owner. In other words, he has fallbacks; a Plan B. This is a human concept. Further research has brought me to the conclusion that he is evolving; that he is becoming more and more human. He is becoming some kind of...Cat Man...or.....................................
............................................Man........................................Cat............................
If our pets are taking on our humanly characteristics, then that means we now have competition. The planet may not seem big enough for people to co-exist alongside another intelligent civilisation. But it looks like we're just going to have to share. Our pets are evolving out of domestication and we can't afford to make enemies like Man Cat.
Monday, 18 June 2012
Prisonbreak
Last Friday I went to the casino and they gave me a $5 voucher. So I cashed it in and made a quick $5. They also gave me a membership card and a stress ball. That way, when you're sitting in front of the machines losing your savings, you can squeeze it and it will give you the mental stability you need to keep gambling. All in all it was a good haul, but it has nothing to do with today's topic, which is...
...Prisonbreak. (Another TV show).
((spoiler alert) this (spoiler alert) post contains (spoiler alert) spoilers)
This show is old now, old enough that it's been off the air for like three years. But it's worth talking about because it's pretty good I guess. It's like if the Shawshank Redemption was a TV show, and then when (spoilers) Tim Robbins got out of jail there was a second season which was the TV version of The Fugitive. Throw in The Pelican Brief and you've got Prisonbreak.
The story involves a guy, Michael Schofield, who gets himself deliberately incarcerated, which is badass alone, but then we learn that he got himself imprisoned to break out his brother Lincoln, who is on death row because of a murder he claims he didn't commit. His girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend or whoever the fuck she is) is trying to get him exonerated by digging up evidence which supports these claims. But if this was the premise of the show it would be boring. Instead we get an awesome serial drama about how these guys escape jail.
The greatest part of this premise is how Michael's plan unfolds as the first season progresses. We find out late in the first episode that he has the blueprints for the prison tattooed on his body, which sounds like a painful experience and makes you think his brother better be fucking grateful when they're finally free. Michael also recruits other inmates to help with the plan, like the crazy Russian from Armageddon and some Peurto-Rican guy. It's interesting how they all have their own motivation for escaping. Meanwhile the government is going around killing anyone who knows the truth about Lincoln's case, which leads to wacky shenanigans left, right and centre.
The only real problem I have with this show is that it takes so fucking long for them to escape and the plan is horrendously flawed. Things keep going wrong and it's usually up to a combination of Michael's cunning and luck to save the day. One thing that particularly shits me is that he spends probably half a season mixing stolen chemicals inside toothepaste tubes so that he can melt away a drain underneath the prison infirmary. When he and his fellow would-be escapees finally find themselves in a position to climb up into the infirmary through the drain and I guess escape, it turns out someone put a huge pipe there because they just happened to look at the floor and notice there was no drain anymore.
This makes me wonder why anyone would rely on a plan which requires that none of the medical staff look at the floor. Considering there's that one chick who's Michael's love interest and she spends all her time in there, I would consider this too much of a risk and leave it out of the tattoo. But lets backtrack a bit. Another part of the plan involves the inmates working together on the convict maintanence team. Their job is to fix a shed, but when they guards leave them to it they slowly dig a hole in the floor to slip through to the infirmary on the night of their escape. When the guards come back they put a rug over the hole and put a table on that and act like they've been fixing pipes the whole time.
Firstly, wouldn't the guards be suspicious that weeks have gone by during which no maintenance work has been done whatsoever? The shed still looks like shit. Secondly, they've got a fellow escapee posted outside as a lookout to report back whenever they see a guard approaching. If I was the guard whose job it was to oversee the maintenance convicts, I'd be wondering why the fuck one of them is always standing outside, not doing any work, and why he always hurries back inside whenever I come over.
Possibly the most interesting character on the show is Theodore Bagwell, and here's why:
So that's Prisonbreak. I read on Wikipedia that they escape jail and then get thrown into another one a season or so later. Sounds great.
...Prisonbreak. (Another TV show).
((spoiler alert) this (spoiler alert) post contains (spoiler alert) spoilers)
This show is old now, old enough that it's been off the air for like three years. But it's worth talking about because it's pretty good I guess. It's like if the Shawshank Redemption was a TV show, and then when (spoilers) Tim Robbins got out of jail there was a second season which was the TV version of The Fugitive. Throw in The Pelican Brief and you've got Prisonbreak.
The story involves a guy, Michael Schofield, who gets himself deliberately incarcerated, which is badass alone, but then we learn that he got himself imprisoned to break out his brother Lincoln, who is on death row because of a murder he claims he didn't commit. His girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend or whoever the fuck she is) is trying to get him exonerated by digging up evidence which supports these claims. But if this was the premise of the show it would be boring. Instead we get an awesome serial drama about how these guys escape jail.
The greatest part of this premise is how Michael's plan unfolds as the first season progresses. We find out late in the first episode that he has the blueprints for the prison tattooed on his body, which sounds like a painful experience and makes you think his brother better be fucking grateful when they're finally free. Michael also recruits other inmates to help with the plan, like the crazy Russian from Armageddon and some Peurto-Rican guy. It's interesting how they all have their own motivation for escaping. Meanwhile the government is going around killing anyone who knows the truth about Lincoln's case, which leads to wacky shenanigans left, right and centre.
The only real problem I have with this show is that it takes so fucking long for them to escape and the plan is horrendously flawed. Things keep going wrong and it's usually up to a combination of Michael's cunning and luck to save the day. One thing that particularly shits me is that he spends probably half a season mixing stolen chemicals inside toothepaste tubes so that he can melt away a drain underneath the prison infirmary. When he and his fellow would-be escapees finally find themselves in a position to climb up into the infirmary through the drain and I guess escape, it turns out someone put a huge pipe there because they just happened to look at the floor and notice there was no drain anymore.
This makes me wonder why anyone would rely on a plan which requires that none of the medical staff look at the floor. Considering there's that one chick who's Michael's love interest and she spends all her time in there, I would consider this too much of a risk and leave it out of the tattoo. But lets backtrack a bit. Another part of the plan involves the inmates working together on the convict maintanence team. Their job is to fix a shed, but when they guards leave them to it they slowly dig a hole in the floor to slip through to the infirmary on the night of their escape. When the guards come back they put a rug over the hole and put a table on that and act like they've been fixing pipes the whole time.
Firstly, wouldn't the guards be suspicious that weeks have gone by during which no maintenance work has been done whatsoever? The shed still looks like shit. Secondly, they've got a fellow escapee posted outside as a lookout to report back whenever they see a guard approaching. If I was the guard whose job it was to oversee the maintenance convicts, I'd be wondering why the fuck one of them is always standing outside, not doing any work, and why he always hurries back inside whenever I come over.
Possibly the most interesting character on the show is Theodore Bagwell, and here's why:
- His nickname is T-Bag, which is hilarious.
- He's the only person in the cast which the balls to kill a prisonguard who happens to stumble upon Michael's escape plan. Who cares if the man is young and just married, you gotta do what you gotta do.
- He's a combination of homosexual, pedophile, murderer, rapist, creep, thief, psychotic. Basically, he's every single type of criminal combined.
- He talks like a Disney villain.
So that's Prisonbreak. I read on Wikipedia that they escape jail and then get thrown into another one a season or so later. Sounds great.
Saturday, 16 June 2012
Cyberbully: A Horrifying Viewing Experience
Cyberbullying is the big issue of the 21st century now that everyone owns a means of accessing the Internet, be it a laptop or an Iphone or a router inside your cybernetic brain which allows you to blog telepathically. So of course America made a TV movie about it so that parents could sit their children down and scare them into throwing out every piece of technology they own after the horrific viewing experience that is Cyberbully. This little movie looked so intriguingly bad that i tried to watch it, suffered through 22 minutes, and the rest of it I learnt about by consulting Youtube reviews. Now I have my topic of the day! XD
Originally aired last year (about five years too late considering what the Internet looks like in this movie), Cyberbully is the story of a girl who gets bullied online. She also gets bullied in real life but that problem is soooo last century. This girl has a couple of friends and together they share thought-provoking dialogue about boys and social networking and the class bitch who likes to make fun of them because it's an American high school and someone must fill that role for the school to have any credibility whatsoever. I know this is just a TV propaganda movie, but the dialogue seems to recite the plot for the benefit of the viewers, rather than having the camera do that job by, you know, showing us what's happening. Instead we get:
"Have you heard from your dad?"
"I haven't heard from Dad since he had an affair and left us a couple of months ago."
"That must be why you're in such a vulnerable place right now and therefore more prone to getting upset if someone were to use the Internet to harm your reputation."
"So how about that new social networking site! I sure hope we don't get cyberbullied and then one of us tries to commit suicide which causes our parents to campaign to get the Internet legislated, triggering a debate about whether the Internet should be legislated when its up to the user what they choose to put online!"
"High school sure is hard!"
Yep. High school is hard. One of my many personalities wrote a post about it once. But the thing about high school is that nothing that happens will matter once you graduate. So suck it up and deal with it. This girl has no problem dealing with the real life teasing, it's when things get all cyber that the shit hits the fan.
So her mum (Mom) buys her a laptop for her birthday, which makes no sense because her mum is super strict when it comes to the Internet. She childproofs the home computer, forbids most websites, monitors every single thing her kids do online, all that kind of stuff. She says she bought it so that her daughter can write to her heart's content since she wants to be a journalist. But still, why spend all that money on a laptop? The girl doesn't even use it for that. She sets up an account on some social networking site with a stupid name like FaceSpace or TwitBook. The site seems specifically designed to promote cyberbullying. It has no privacy settings as far as I can tell; no boundaries or the ability to report bad stuff. It also asks you private questions like "what colour underwear are you wearing?" Seriously, what kind of site is this?
As soon as she sets up the account, her brother logs in using her password and updates her status to say "I'm a nasty slut who needs to be spanked" or something as uncomfortably incestuous. All he has to do is guess her password which is easy because it turns out to be the name of their old pet cat. There's an important lesson to be learnt here for all parents and the children they're forcing to watch this drivel. That lesson is: don't have kids; they're awful; check the condom for holes next time.
Naturally everyone starts putting up nasty comments because it's an American high school and kids are awful. The next time she goes to school the class bitch makes fun of her. Suddenly this is more upsetting than before because now it's the Internet's fault. There's another film about the dangers of the web called Megan is Missing. In that, a girl meets a creep online who kidnaps and brutally murders her. There you go, kids - an actual warning about the real dangers of the Internet, because getting tortured to death is much worse than accidentally giving someone who hates you something to tease you about.
This airhead acts like her life is ruined. But I can't tell what's changed. Some other stuff happens to her which sucks. She ends up losing her friends, the boy she likes doesn't want to go to the dance with her because he's a vampire and he's worried he'll lose control of his animalistic urges and drain her blood. Someone shoots up the school, aliens invade Earth and the dead come back to life and start eating everyone's brains - all because of the cyber bullying.
It all culminates in a rather hilarious video posted on TwitFace in which the class bitch pretends to be our airhead protagonist and makes nasty comments about her apparent promiscuity. Unfortunately our airhead protagonist doesn't find it that funny and makes a response video about how she's going to kill herself. Only one person who sees it decides to take it seriously and rushes over to her house just in time to find the girl has failed to off herself because she can't take the cap off her bottle of sleeping pills. That's right, she can't take the cap off. If only the Internet were as idiot-proof as a bottle of sleeping pills. This is the point where everyone who is on the edge of their seat rooting for her to succeed slumps back in dismay. Because unfortunately she survives.
After that she goes to some kind of cyberbullying support group. I like to imagine that while they're talking about how much it sucks to be trolled, someone next door is telling Alcoholics Anonymous about how they got drunk and ran over a child, and how they've had to live to with that guilt ever since. Why can't we see that??? Her mother tries to get the Internet legislated, but a judge or some other kind of law person tells her there's no use because the Internet has a delete button. There you go. Problem solved. We'll just delete the Internet...or hold it hostage in our recycle bin while demanding discounts at online stores. Isn't it amazing how anyone can be a criminal mastermind in today's society?!
In the end, the girl and her friends confront the class bitch and everyone in the cafeteria applauds them as they pour water on her, gazing in silent satisfaction as she melts into a puddle of cyberbully goo. The Internet is then deleted and nailed inside a wooden box which is placed in a large warehouse with the Lost Ark. Countries all over the world are seen celebrating the end of its tyrannical reign.
The movie ends and parents everywhere applaud.
And that's Cyberbully. It's a film designed to be shown in Health class. But I can't tell whether it's a warning about the dangers of putting personal information online or about how stupid people can be.
Originally aired last year (about five years too late considering what the Internet looks like in this movie), Cyberbully is the story of a girl who gets bullied online. She also gets bullied in real life but that problem is soooo last century. This girl has a couple of friends and together they share thought-provoking dialogue about boys and social networking and the class bitch who likes to make fun of them because it's an American high school and someone must fill that role for the school to have any credibility whatsoever. I know this is just a TV propaganda movie, but the dialogue seems to recite the plot for the benefit of the viewers, rather than having the camera do that job by, you know, showing us what's happening. Instead we get:
"Have you heard from your dad?"
"I haven't heard from Dad since he had an affair and left us a couple of months ago."
"That must be why you're in such a vulnerable place right now and therefore more prone to getting upset if someone were to use the Internet to harm your reputation."
"So how about that new social networking site! I sure hope we don't get cyberbullied and then one of us tries to commit suicide which causes our parents to campaign to get the Internet legislated, triggering a debate about whether the Internet should be legislated when its up to the user what they choose to put online!"
"High school sure is hard!"
Yep. High school is hard. One of my many personalities wrote a post about it once. But the thing about high school is that nothing that happens will matter once you graduate. So suck it up and deal with it. This girl has no problem dealing with the real life teasing, it's when things get all cyber that the shit hits the fan.
So her mum (Mom) buys her a laptop for her birthday, which makes no sense because her mum is super strict when it comes to the Internet. She childproofs the home computer, forbids most websites, monitors every single thing her kids do online, all that kind of stuff. She says she bought it so that her daughter can write to her heart's content since she wants to be a journalist. But still, why spend all that money on a laptop? The girl doesn't even use it for that. She sets up an account on some social networking site with a stupid name like FaceSpace or TwitBook. The site seems specifically designed to promote cyberbullying. It has no privacy settings as far as I can tell; no boundaries or the ability to report bad stuff. It also asks you private questions like "what colour underwear are you wearing?" Seriously, what kind of site is this?
As soon as she sets up the account, her brother logs in using her password and updates her status to say "I'm a nasty slut who needs to be spanked" or something as uncomfortably incestuous. All he has to do is guess her password which is easy because it turns out to be the name of their old pet cat. There's an important lesson to be learnt here for all parents and the children they're forcing to watch this drivel. That lesson is: don't have kids; they're awful; check the condom for holes next time.
Naturally everyone starts putting up nasty comments because it's an American high school and kids are awful. The next time she goes to school the class bitch makes fun of her. Suddenly this is more upsetting than before because now it's the Internet's fault. There's another film about the dangers of the web called Megan is Missing. In that, a girl meets a creep online who kidnaps and brutally murders her. There you go, kids - an actual warning about the real dangers of the Internet, because getting tortured to death is much worse than accidentally giving someone who hates you something to tease you about.
This airhead acts like her life is ruined. But I can't tell what's changed. Some other stuff happens to her which sucks. She ends up losing her friends, the boy she likes doesn't want to go to the dance with her because he's a vampire and he's worried he'll lose control of his animalistic urges and drain her blood. Someone shoots up the school, aliens invade Earth and the dead come back to life and start eating everyone's brains - all because of the cyber bullying.
It all culminates in a rather hilarious video posted on TwitFace in which the class bitch pretends to be our airhead protagonist and makes nasty comments about her apparent promiscuity. Unfortunately our airhead protagonist doesn't find it that funny and makes a response video about how she's going to kill herself. Only one person who sees it decides to take it seriously and rushes over to her house just in time to find the girl has failed to off herself because she can't take the cap off her bottle of sleeping pills. That's right, she can't take the cap off. If only the Internet were as idiot-proof as a bottle of sleeping pills. This is the point where everyone who is on the edge of their seat rooting for her to succeed slumps back in dismay. Because unfortunately she survives.
After that she goes to some kind of cyberbullying support group. I like to imagine that while they're talking about how much it sucks to be trolled, someone next door is telling Alcoholics Anonymous about how they got drunk and ran over a child, and how they've had to live to with that guilt ever since. Why can't we see that??? Her mother tries to get the Internet legislated, but a judge or some other kind of law person tells her there's no use because the Internet has a delete button. There you go. Problem solved. We'll just delete the Internet...or hold it hostage in our recycle bin while demanding discounts at online stores. Isn't it amazing how anyone can be a criminal mastermind in today's society?!
In the end, the girl and her friends confront the class bitch and everyone in the cafeteria applauds them as they pour water on her, gazing in silent satisfaction as she melts into a puddle of cyberbully goo. The Internet is then deleted and nailed inside a wooden box which is placed in a large warehouse with the Lost Ark. Countries all over the world are seen celebrating the end of its tyrannical reign.
The movie ends and parents everywhere applaud.
And that's Cyberbully. It's a film designed to be shown in Health class. But I can't tell whether it's a warning about the dangers of putting personal information online or about how stupid people can be.
Thursday, 14 June 2012
Winter
There's this movie called Monsoon Wedding which I guess is about a wedding that takes place during monsoon season. Since that did well, Australia should make Drought Wedding, a love story set against a backdrop of bushfire warnings and water restrictions.
To be fair, the drought isn't exactly a season, but Summer is - which is the perfect jumping off point for today's topic: what Winter means to me. For anyone reading this who lives overseas where it's Summer right now, there's nothing quite like an Australian winter with it's fierce blizzards and several feet of snow. The sky is blanketed in thick clouds; the temperature drops like thirty degrees; kangaroos install central heating in their pouches; aborigines skin each other to make coats. It's a cruel and unforgiving time of year. It also brings to mind the following things.
Mid-year exams
There's nothing as thrilling as sitting in the Royal Exhibition Building and trying to draw on all those facts you haven't studied while staring up at paintings on the ceiling almost good enough to have been done by a ninja turtle like the Sistine Chapel. But they don't seem to provide adequate heating. So not only are you under pressure, you're also freezing your nuts off. Yesterday during my Corporate Law exam there was snow falling around my desk as I chiselled away at the rock-solid sheet of ice in which my paper was encased. I could see my breath and my hands were turning blue. A snow plough drove past my desk, clearing a path for the invigilators who were all woolly mammoths (they're the only ones who can keep warm enough to do the job).
Who the f#%k drinks beer anymore?
I don't know about you but I find beer only tastes good in Summer. Once Winter rolls around it's time to get a big bottle of Irish whiskey and pour a little bit into a glass so I can sit down in my comfortable leather chair, wearing a nice warm gown and staring up at a huge portrait of my younger self while thinking about the stock market and what on Earth am I talking about?
Long walks of self-discovery
When it starts to get dark, I like to wrap myself in fur coats, put tennis rackets on my feet and venture out into the icy wasteland that is my suburb come Winter-time. Sometimes you find the frozen remains of lost travellers; poor souls who braved the outdoors and met an ill fate at the hands of a blizzard or the thing that nearly ate Luke Skywalker.
Roasting marshmallows over a warm fire
Sometimes, when I'm out on my soul-searching walk, I'll break into an abandoned shop and steal some marshmallows and a tin of cocoa powder. But sometimes I have to fight the wolves for it and that's how I got these horrific scars on my arms. The best thing about living in a house and not an igloo like my neighbours is that you can have a fire going without worrying about melting a hole in your wall. Then you dress your wolf-bites, make a steaming cup of hot chocolate, roast some marshmallows and wait for the full moon.
Fending off cannibals
During Winter they're all over the place. I'd like to say I'm happy that they're all dead by Summer, but all it does is make room for the huntsmen spiders which are infinitely worse.
The Abominable Snowman
I've met him. He's not that scary. He just NEVER SHUTS UP about Seinfeld.
And that's Winter in a nutshell. It's a great time of year. If you're from overseas then bring the family here for a ski trip, but make sure you pack plenty of emergency-lost-in-the-wilderness rations. Also bring a torch or something because there's no natural light here. The Sun couldn't be further away if it was photobombing pictures taken by the Hubble Telescope.
To be fair, the drought isn't exactly a season, but Summer is - which is the perfect jumping off point for today's topic: what Winter means to me. For anyone reading this who lives overseas where it's Summer right now, there's nothing quite like an Australian winter with it's fierce blizzards and several feet of snow. The sky is blanketed in thick clouds; the temperature drops like thirty degrees; kangaroos install central heating in their pouches; aborigines skin each other to make coats. It's a cruel and unforgiving time of year. It also brings to mind the following things.
Mid-year exams
There's nothing as thrilling as sitting in the Royal Exhibition Building and trying to draw on all those facts you haven't studied while staring up at paintings on the ceiling almost good enough to have been done by a ninja turtle like the Sistine Chapel. But they don't seem to provide adequate heating. So not only are you under pressure, you're also freezing your nuts off. Yesterday during my Corporate Law exam there was snow falling around my desk as I chiselled away at the rock-solid sheet of ice in which my paper was encased. I could see my breath and my hands were turning blue. A snow plough drove past my desk, clearing a path for the invigilators who were all woolly mammoths (they're the only ones who can keep warm enough to do the job).
Who the f#%k drinks beer anymore?
I don't know about you but I find beer only tastes good in Summer. Once Winter rolls around it's time to get a big bottle of Irish whiskey and pour a little bit into a glass so I can sit down in my comfortable leather chair, wearing a nice warm gown and staring up at a huge portrait of my younger self while thinking about the stock market and what on Earth am I talking about?
Long walks of self-discovery
When it starts to get dark, I like to wrap myself in fur coats, put tennis rackets on my feet and venture out into the icy wasteland that is my suburb come Winter-time. Sometimes you find the frozen remains of lost travellers; poor souls who braved the outdoors and met an ill fate at the hands of a blizzard or the thing that nearly ate Luke Skywalker.
Roasting marshmallows over a warm fire
Sometimes, when I'm out on my soul-searching walk, I'll break into an abandoned shop and steal some marshmallows and a tin of cocoa powder. But sometimes I have to fight the wolves for it and that's how I got these horrific scars on my arms. The best thing about living in a house and not an igloo like my neighbours is that you can have a fire going without worrying about melting a hole in your wall. Then you dress your wolf-bites, make a steaming cup of hot chocolate, roast some marshmallows and wait for the full moon.
Fending off cannibals
During Winter they're all over the place. I'd like to say I'm happy that they're all dead by Summer, but all it does is make room for the huntsmen spiders which are infinitely worse.
The Abominable Snowman
I've met him. He's not that scary. He just NEVER SHUTS UP about Seinfeld.
And that's Winter in a nutshell. It's a great time of year. If you're from overseas then bring the family here for a ski trip, but make sure you pack plenty of emergency-lost-in-the-wilderness rations. Also bring a torch or something because there's no natural light here. The Sun couldn't be further away if it was photobombing pictures taken by the Hubble Telescope.
Sunday, 10 June 2012
Huh?
I haven't been here much lately. I've been busy, you know, with exams and stuff. The internet has become the headache tablet I take after clubbing myself around the head with facts about corporate law and Indonesia. In other words all I've been doing is studying and looking up Cracked.com articles. I kind of wish I could leave my body and become one with the internet, sort of like in Tron or the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey. If that happened I could hack into people's Facebook accounts at will and create Youtube videos with my mind. Today's topic is honey.
Honey is that viscuous, gooey, sweet shit that bees make and sell to humans for a modest profit. We then spread it on our toast and thank God for bees. Bees have hives where they make honey, entertain the queen with stand-up comedy and manage the business, which includes calculating their expenses and making sure they don't go over their budget. That sort of thing. Did you know bees have stingers, which are like knives stuck to their asses that dislodge inside people and then they die while if the person is allergic their face swells up like a balloon and they end up choking on their own tongue which looks like some fat, purple fish trying to squeeze its way out of their expanding mouth. Or like a whale giving birth. Fascinating stuff.
None of this has anything to do with my exams or indeed anything to do with anything. I just thought it was worth bringing up since without bees there would be no honey and without honey there would be no honey-joys, or those muesli bars held together with honey. In fact, the word honey wouldn't exist. So that movie with Jessica Alba dancing would be called something else, like That Movie Where Jessica Alba Dances.
Oh, another thing I should mention, which isn't as important as the bees, but still, is that I quit my job. I've already forgotten that place. But for some reason I keep seeing flashes of sombreros and maracas and I don't know why. Actually I've still got like two or three shifts left, and I can't remember where I work because my brain is fried and I can't even remember what colour the sky is because I've been cooped up in this room for a week. At least I think it's a week. Maybe it's been years and years and when I open the door the world will be a post-apocalyptic wasteland and the only people reading this blog are scattered survivors or our robot/alien/platypus overlords.
Anyway if you liked this post then I'll send you some of my homemade honey. If you hated it I'll cough in an envelope and send that to you and with a bit of luck I have swine flu or meningacoccus and you'll get it. Asshole.
The end.
Honey is that viscuous, gooey, sweet shit that bees make and sell to humans for a modest profit. We then spread it on our toast and thank God for bees. Bees have hives where they make honey, entertain the queen with stand-up comedy and manage the business, which includes calculating their expenses and making sure they don't go over their budget. That sort of thing. Did you know bees have stingers, which are like knives stuck to their asses that dislodge inside people and then they die while if the person is allergic their face swells up like a balloon and they end up choking on their own tongue which looks like some fat, purple fish trying to squeeze its way out of their expanding mouth. Or like a whale giving birth. Fascinating stuff.
None of this has anything to do with my exams or indeed anything to do with anything. I just thought it was worth bringing up since without bees there would be no honey and without honey there would be no honey-joys, or those muesli bars held together with honey. In fact, the word honey wouldn't exist. So that movie with Jessica Alba dancing would be called something else, like That Movie Where Jessica Alba Dances.
Oh, another thing I should mention, which isn't as important as the bees, but still, is that I quit my job. I've already forgotten that place. But for some reason I keep seeing flashes of sombreros and maracas and I don't know why. Actually I've still got like two or three shifts left, and I can't remember where I work because my brain is fried and I can't even remember what colour the sky is because I've been cooped up in this room for a week. At least I think it's a week. Maybe it's been years and years and when I open the door the world will be a post-apocalyptic wasteland and the only people reading this blog are scattered survivors or our robot/alien/platypus overlords.
Anyway if you liked this post then I'll send you some of my homemade honey. If you hated it I'll cough in an envelope and send that to you and with a bit of luck I have swine flu or meningacoccus and you'll get it. Asshole.
The end.
Sunday, 3 June 2012
Moneti$e
I just noticed the "Monetise" button at the end of the Blogger dashboard. If I were to let companies place ads on this blog, which recieves just over half a view each year, I'm sure I could earn a lot of money. Let me just do the calculations.
...well it turns out I could make a fortune. All I have to do is keep blogging and live for ever.
Having Adsense on your blog seems like $elling out to me and I'd imagine the handful of people who enjoy coming here to read whatever it is I talk about on this simple, nineties-style page with its pointless background picture and courier font would be taken aback if it was suddenly covered in ads. It would be like going to your local, down-to-earth, under-the-radar, other-hyphen-words cafe to find it's been turned into a Starbucks. This cute little waste of time would suddenly be a soulless waste time as I scrape the internet for a few cents.
That's right. I'm indie. Like Philosophist!
Philosophist?
Philosophist!
On the weekend I went out and got trashed.
Haha just kidding. I studied and rented Star Wars. It's been at least seven years since I saw the original trilogy. I'd forgotten how much I loved the special effects and that fish guy who says "IT'S A TRAP!" and that illegal immigrant dwarf flying the Millenium Falcon with Lando at the end of Return of the Jedi. Not to mention Joda's laugh; the sand people; Luke whining to his uncle about going to something or another and buying some power converters; C3PO; R2D2; the fat guy who dies first when they attack the Death Star; the Death Star; how awesome Jedis were before they made the prequels; the fact that all you have to do is press three buttons to fire the Death Star laser, which could be a potential catastrophe on Bring Your Kids to Work Day; that one Ewok who steals a bike; Lando's friend that bald guy with the bluetooth thing wrapped around his head; the hilarious sexual tension between Han and Leia.
I never realised how dated these movies are and yet they're somehow timeless.
...well it turns out I could make a fortune. All I have to do is keep blogging and live for ever.
Having Adsense on your blog seems like $elling out to me and I'd imagine the handful of people who enjoy coming here to read whatever it is I talk about on this simple, nineties-style page with its pointless background picture and courier font would be taken aback if it was suddenly covered in ads. It would be like going to your local, down-to-earth, under-the-radar, other-hyphen-words cafe to find it's been turned into a Starbucks. This cute little waste of time would suddenly be a soulless waste time as I scrape the internet for a few cents.
That's right. I'm indie. Like Philosophist!
Philosophist?
Philosophist!
On the weekend I went out and got trashed.
Haha just kidding. I studied and rented Star Wars. It's been at least seven years since I saw the original trilogy. I'd forgotten how much I loved the special effects and that fish guy who says "IT'S A TRAP!" and that illegal immigrant dwarf flying the Millenium Falcon with Lando at the end of Return of the Jedi. Not to mention Joda's laugh; the sand people; Luke whining to his uncle about going to something or another and buying some power converters; C3PO; R2D2; the fat guy who dies first when they attack the Death Star; the Death Star; how awesome Jedis were before they made the prequels; the fact that all you have to do is press three buttons to fire the Death Star laser, which could be a potential catastrophe on Bring Your Kids to Work Day; that one Ewok who steals a bike; Lando's friend that bald guy with the bluetooth thing wrapped around his head; the hilarious sexual tension between Han and Leia.
I never realised how dated these movies are and yet they're somehow timeless.
Saturday, 2 June 2012
Breaking Bad (Season Three)
Previously on Breaking Bad... Malcolm in the Middle's Dad had cancer and decided to cook meth. Now he doesn't have cancer but he's still cooking meth.
Still a great show. I'm aware that I'm treading through a minefield of spoilers so I'll be careful. Season Three begins with the aftermath of a plane crash which just happens to take place over Walt's neighbourhood, and which also just so happens to be his fault (by massive, massive extension - but I won't go into the details). While he deals with guilt and the trainwreck that is his marriage - I can't stand his wife by the way, she's a tremendous bitch - Jesse is in rehab and devises a clever but completely amoral way to deal Walt's product independently.
This season gets off to a slow start. Nothing much is happening in the cooking meth department, Walt and his wife are fighting a lot and a Mexican version of those twins from the Matrix Reloaded are out to kill him, but his boss is holding them off because he needs "Heisenberg" alive to cook him that famous blue meth of his. Did I mention Walt's pseudonym is "Heisenberg"? That's what I'm changing my name to when I become a drug-dealer.
I'd say it picked up about halfway through thanks to the storyline surrounding Hank, Walt's DEA brother-in-law, who is desperate to catch the mysterious Heisenberg while dealing with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Regardless of how much of a bad ass, Michael Chiklis impersonating tank this guy is, anyone would be shook-up if they saw Danny Trejo's severed head stuck to the back of a turtle which then proceeded to explode. No idea what I'm talking about? Watch the show. It's insane.
The only thing that bugs me is it ended on one of the greatest cliff-hangers I've ever seen. So now I have to go out and get the fourth season because I'm desperate to find out what happens.
Final verdict: Breaking Bad is awful. Wait - did I say Breaking Bad?
I meant Glee.
Breaking Bad is awesome.
Still a great show. I'm aware that I'm treading through a minefield of spoilers so I'll be careful. Season Three begins with the aftermath of a plane crash which just happens to take place over Walt's neighbourhood, and which also just so happens to be his fault (by massive, massive extension - but I won't go into the details). While he deals with guilt and the trainwreck that is his marriage - I can't stand his wife by the way, she's a tremendous bitch - Jesse is in rehab and devises a clever but completely amoral way to deal Walt's product independently.
This season gets off to a slow start. Nothing much is happening in the cooking meth department, Walt and his wife are fighting a lot and a Mexican version of those twins from the Matrix Reloaded are out to kill him, but his boss is holding them off because he needs "Heisenberg" alive to cook him that famous blue meth of his. Did I mention Walt's pseudonym is "Heisenberg"? That's what I'm changing my name to when I become a drug-dealer.
I'd say it picked up about halfway through thanks to the storyline surrounding Hank, Walt's DEA brother-in-law, who is desperate to catch the mysterious Heisenberg while dealing with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Regardless of how much of a bad ass, Michael Chiklis impersonating tank this guy is, anyone would be shook-up if they saw Danny Trejo's severed head stuck to the back of a turtle which then proceeded to explode. No idea what I'm talking about? Watch the show. It's insane.
The only thing that bugs me is it ended on one of the greatest cliff-hangers I've ever seen. So now I have to go out and get the fourth season because I'm desperate to find out what happens.
Final verdict: Breaking Bad is awful. Wait - did I say Breaking Bad?
I meant Glee.
Breaking Bad is awesome.
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