Archives, eh
-
# Links for 2007-06-26
- Slow Down Culture « A Mirror of My Thoughts! ✴
-
# FNQ? I think not
Sephy blurted…
No mountains near the sea in Qld? As Jeh said, FNQ. (Pfft. Aren’t you FROM there??? :D )
I assume they meant no mountains near the sea in a location not swarming with Expensive-Starlet-Disemboweling-Cassowaries. The last thing they need amongst the sharks that make Jaws realistic and the air-cannon-propelled, plush polar bears is a bird considered one of the most dangerous animals to keep in a zoo.
From FNQ? Let me tell you, Queensland and Scotland are almost completely dissimilar except in one regard. There are two Queenslands just like there are two Scotlands. In the south are provincial rednecks, backwards in all regards. Homes in Brisbane still had outdoor toilets thirty-odd years ago. Southern Queensland is populated by people who voted down daylight savings because it would confuse the cows and fade the curtains. Then there is Effenque. People from Effenque consider southern Queenslanders to be effeminate poofs obsessed with faddish and modern bullshit like flushing toilets and not needing to carry a ten-inch knife to fight off the crocs. Southern Queenslanders, that charming species that bought us Saint Steve Irwin the Boofhead and Sir Joh Bjeilke-Peterson, consider the people of Effenque to be boorish and a little behind the times. Lawks!
To – swiftily – quote the inimitable Jules Winnfield, it ain’t the same fucking ballpark, it ain’t the same league, it ain’t even the same fucking sport.
Sephy continues…Palm Cove. Outrigger. Go. Stay. (Absolutely Bloody Beautiful!!!) Then enjoy riding the Skyrail up over the rainforest-covered MOUNTAINS. Enjoy. Rinse. Repeat. :D (take catamaran to green island and go snorkelling. Many honeymoonish fun things to do in Cairns.)
Missing the point, I think. Palm Cove is as amazing as you say it is, I am sure, but getting married there is not a lark. Eloping to get married by Elvis or on the Lost set or – if I can arrange it – on the Lost set by Elvis is indeed a lark.
I couldn’t even be bothered getting married if we were just doing something as boring as Far North Queensland. Or as something as try-hard as a bungie-jump-wedding. It, like practically everything else I do, has to be laid back and just odd enough to amuse me.
-
# Do you take this chicken to be your pet?
D tells me that she has changed her mind, she no longer wishes to get married in Las Vegas in a ceremony overseen by Elvis. She wants to get married on the beach where they film Lost and has made it extremely clear to me that we are going, thank-you very much, to the US in early
20072008 and we will be visiting LA to visit the NCIS set and Hawaii to visit the Lost set and apparantly get married.No word yet on whether or not Sawyer will be the celebrant, but if not it certainly won’t be Jack, despite Jack being the only character on the show worth watching – I don’t watch Lily for her character.
My amusement at this annoucement was met with a “Don’t you want to marry me?” Being even more amused at that question was probably a mistake, right?
Err, before anybody should send me some sort of email, this doesn’t actually mean D and I are engaged or anything. I think our relationship is a little beyond bethrothal anyway. It is just D being idiosyncratic. To put this in perspective, on Sunday she told me she wants a pet chicken because she saw a chicken running around in someone’s front yard.
Still, any marriage ceremony would be a whole lot cheaper if only Queensland had some fucking mountains near a beach.
-
# I see shit movies
When I was sixteen or seventeen, some friends and I watched a movie that was memorably bad.
It was a titty movie, although I am pretty sure there was no actual sex act going on. It was all simulated so it was not technically a porn flick. Hey, sixteen. I was just happy to see boob.
This movie was bad. It was awful. It was unremittingly stupefying. I walked away from this movie discernably less capable of speech capable of expressing the depths of atrociousness that this movie plumbed – a condition you may well note I still suffer.
It was bizarre. Fantasy trappings, which basically meant the “talent” was all wearing brown leather instead of black, and animal skins. There was some horse riding and some desultory melee. There was a man wearing a cow’s head, skin and all, as a helmet.
There was some kind of jewel or gemstone, maaaagic and all. There was something that I sincerely hope earned a chuckle when it was a referred to as a aplot by the director and producer.
See, it was the worst of both worlds. It had the complete lack of a (comprehensible) storyline that is so quintessentially porn, and yet it had no actual porn, just girls getting their tits out while men in laughable “fantasy” costumes made surreally unrealistic thrusting motions.
All I can remember of the “plot resolution” was the magic jewel transporting the girls into modern-day LA where someone was unrealistically thrusting their pelvis against a girl laid out on the bonnet of a sportscar.
Lest I was too subtle, this movie was bloody terrible.
I saw Hawk the Slayer when I was thirteen. Enough said.
Lady in the Water makes both of these movies look like Citizen Kane.
I cannot give it a rating in stars. I do not have the doctorate in pure mathematics required to invent a new way of describing numbers that are more zero than zero.
I am going now, to hit my head a lot until I fall into a coma and forget I ever saw this movie. Waking up with psychic premonitions leading me to attempt to assassinate a candidate for parliament will be considered a bonus.
-
# Links for 2005-09-06
