Never mind the flintlocks

(I'm very busy this weekend, so I hope you'll forgive me if I resort to the last and lowest refuge of the lazy blogger, the YouTube post.)

Popular music, of all the art forms, seems the best able to craft precious jewels from dollops of rancid ordure. But I was still disturbed to discover, during one of those aimless, witless YouTube trawls, that one of the most scintillating slices of 80s Scouse anthemic pop:



may owe rather more than we might have guessed or wished (from 1:21) to a band that would probably be entirely forgotten were it not for the fact that their drummer was a Tomorrow Person:

Didn't I see you on Cops?

I recently started tracking searches that lead to my blog; a large amount of them are people just searching movie quotes. On the one hand, score! On the other, I apologize that my random habit of memorizing great lines and linking them to what basically amounts to jack shit to do with said line has brought them to this blog.

Classics that have brought a number of people here are:

1. "I usually get kissed before I get fucked." (Black Rain)
2. "Try not to suck any dick on your way through the parking lot." (Clerks)
3. "Dear Josh, we came by to fuck you, but you were not here, therefore you are gay." (Ghost World)
4. "I can do anything I want to baby, I ain't lost." (Pretty Woman)
5. "Now what he said was, 'Sic 'em, boy,' but what I heard was, 'Chopper, sic balls!'" (Stand By Me)

But my personal favorite searches are:

1. "What to say when he ejaculates"
2. "someone just came on your cat"
3. "you got me hotter than georgia asphalt"
4. "no point in mentioning these bats"
5. "gay pump and dump economy exchange breast scheme"

No one knows how to be a good daughter better than a gay son.

That's why I come to Uno's for my pizza. I walk in and my regular waitress spots me, grabs the menu from the host, saying, "Give her to me!" and sits me down. I mention it was a long work day and she asks if I'd like a glass or the bottle. I know she's a little bit serious and she knows I know and that's why I like her.

And she calls me "Ladybug."

I haven't been here since Christmas so I can't remember her name because that was the time I asked. It's something really unmatched to her personality...she's got a punkish no-frills vibe going, but her name is Sunshine or Summer or something. Dang. Maybe with a little wine it will come back to me the way my Japanese and Italian does.

Plus I know she'll leave me alone until I want more wine or until I'm ready for cheeeeeeeeeese. Oh, I mean pizza.

And that's why even though there's a little ice still on the roads and I'm wearing death heels, I still decided to stop off to be fed.

But then I'm going home to curl up with (more) wine and Project Runway. (Just season 1.) Because Austin is almost too obvious to root for at this point...but I don't want to see him get ditched because he's such a delicate flower. And that little bitch with the cropped hair has to go. I didn't use to mind her. Conversely, I've mellowed considerably on the Jesus-guy...tensions are high! I'm there!

That's the only time a menorah got me to first base.

We have quite a layer of ice on our little street!

I did stay home all yesterday and polished off a decent bit of season 5 of 24 (I really like to concentrate on the torture scenes and take notes! Hi dad!) while I made some butternut squash soup, creamed spinach, the yummy sweet potato rolls, and my mom's macaroni and cheese. And of course, for Vel's birthday (of course) I cracked open my Syrah from Texas Hills. God that was good.



These are the veggies before becoming tender and pulverized for a damn fine soup...especially for winter! I love the bright squash.

And after much wine, I may or may not have purchased a ticket for only myself for next Thursday's Bass Hall's performance of Cats! Look, I've said before I have no shame. I only bought one without asking anyone to join me since they were pretty pricey and I certainly wasn't going to drag the husband along. That would be cruel. It's purely nostalgia but I admit, I still do genuinely enjoy it...hee hee.

I forgot Judi Dench (!) was cast as Grizabella for the London opening in 1981 but snapped a tendon and Elaine Paige took over (and though Memory was supposed to be sung by another cat (how that would have worked is beyond me but whatev), it ended up being given to her instead). Needless to say, the cast I'm seeing may not quite be the same caliber as Elaine Paige, but I'm willing to give it a go!



Hmm. In retrospect now that I've dug up pictures...I'm quite nostalgic and fond of the music...it suddenly occurs to me I may need a couple drinks at the Saucer before going in. (They're across the street from each other.) I did see the musical once, but it was about fifteen years ago. And I have a nice seat this time. Figured what the hell, it's only money.

Anyhoo, speaking of Texas Hills and their fine wines, I actually uploaded some Austin pics!



The first stop, Texas Hills. This is around Johnson City/Fredricksburg area, south of Austin.



Here we are with Brutus the Very Friendly Dog. I am really not a dog person but he kinda won me over. He has a big foot fetish, throwing himself down on them at all times. Also, he is apparently really into goldfish crackers.



This was the second stop, Pedernales Cellars. They are brand new, just a few weeks old. They had a killer reserve wine, but everyone agreed the Viognier is the reason to go. Reasonable price and it's quite tasty.



Rachael & Kendra





Last stop, Torre di Pietra! Great wines...we purchased this one to have with our cheese and crackers...it was 80 outside that day!



Rachael, Kendra, some girl who jumped in the picture, and Alexandra



The cat who kept us company while we ate snackies and a bottle of wine. He was a great lap cat but I don't think he ever got what he was after... (Do people usually bring salmon or what?)



Rachael, Alexandra, and the same random chick (she probably just had too many wine samples, who knows)

An evening at Mangia!



Kendra & Rachael (yes, Rachael is drinking Shiner, but let's move on ;P)



Alexandra

It was only a couple days but it was a very nice break from DFW...I am up for that anytime! The weather was so perfect, even though it was so wrong for January.

It was about 80 (maybe 78 in DFW), and that was Friday. As of Tuesday/Wednesday, it has been in the 20s and we are covered in ice (again, DFW, I think Austin just got the threat). I do love the randomness of Texas weather, but it's no wonder most people wander around sick for about four months.

I just hope my mailperson can get disc 2 of Project Runway to my little mailbox, I'm totally dying to see what happens. Hee hee. Thanks, Alex!

Do you copy?

A few thoughts arising from Nicholson Baker's Double Fold, about the continuing drive in libraries to destroy original copies of books and periodicals, replacing them with microfilm and other media.

It's as much a bureaucratic farce as anything. Daily newspapers, as Baker reminds us, tend to come out in several editions through the day, to catch up with late-breaking news, sports results and so on: standard library policy, however, is to put just one edition on microfilm. The problem with this becomes obvious when considering the Sept 17, 1970 edition of the Chicago Sun-Times. The early edition quoted President Nixon's off-the-cuff remarks about a potential crisis in the Middle East; White House staff complained, and the words were cut from the later edition. Guess which edition was saved to film?

Baker quotes historian Jeffrey Kimball:

"For my new research project, a larger study of 'smoking-gun' documents, Nixon's quoted remarks have a critical bearing, but all I can get hold of now is the microfilm copy of the evening edition of the Sun-Times, which does not quote Nixon's comments; that is, all microfilm copies of this newspaper for this date seem to be of the evening edition."

So, not only does the quotation not exist; but because we can't compare the two editions, all evidence of its removal has also gone, like Trotsky airbrushed from the revolution. The only difference is that this state of affairs seems to be the result of sort-sighted cost-cutting rather than conspiracy.

One of Baker's particular beefs with microfilm is that it doesn't offer a true copy: we lose colour; marginal text is often cut off. Scanned pages saved to disk are often little better, with text recognition software still inferior to the combination of human eye and human brain. The author goes so far as to set up a non-profit organisation to save some back issues of the Chicago Tribune that were destined for disposal:

Sixty-three thousand dollars, or about fifty dollars a volume, may seem like a lot of money to pay for old news, but it's actually a bargain. To buy the equivalent microfilm run from Bell and Howell would cost about $177,000. We're at a bizarre moment in history, when you can have the real thing for considerably less than it would cost to buy a set of crummy black-and-white snapshots of it which you can't read without the help of a machine.

Baudrillard, of course, wouldn't have found such a state of affairs bizarre. Nor would he have particularly raised an eyebrow at the title of a report by digitisation champion Michael Lesk: "Substituting Images for Books".

Beastly

In 1987, I was on the Exeter team that got to the quarter-finals of University Challenge.

We lost. But not like this.

PS: Further grisly details here.

Good dog

RIP Mr Murph.

(Photo http://k9life.blogspot.com)

That flask had my name on it! It said, "Karen Walker: Bikini Inspector." I got it on spring break!

Happy Birthday, Veloute!



Conditions are perfect!

Wish you were still down here for your birthday...I'll just have to crack open one of the wines we got from the Austin wineries and think of you!

On the other hand, you were wise to leave yesterday, as there is apparently an ice storm ON THE WAY!! EVERYONE HIDE!! So everything is already shut down, even though it's just cold out. Because it might. (Honestly, it probably will.) But in all fairness, I don't think I'll have to work today. So rah rah rah!

On the downside, UNT is closed and I just got an email from the law school I visited back in the fall saying they are missing a form for me--some Dean's Certification/Recommendation form. Sigh. I'm not even sure if I should address this to the registrar's office or the College of Arts & Sciences, because that is where my Dean was located...I assume the latter but there's not a damn thing to be done when it's all iced up, is there?

This would be less of an issue if the form didn't have THIS MUST BE SUBMITTED BY FEBRUARY 1ST all over it. Gee, no pressure. (And I applied at the beginning of DECEMBER!) So I smell an early-morning trip to UNT tomorrow, perhaps? If they would just let me fax it rather than mail it and hope it gets to New England in a timely fashion, all would be well. However, it feels like one of those this-must-have-a-seal-and-be-totally-confidential type things so I'm betting that's out.

*grinds teeth*

And I really hope they know what to do with this form because I sure as hell don't. They seriously want a recommendation from a Dean I never knew (ok, I was a typist for her office but they don't know that) and from a university I attended 9 years ago? They must have some sort of "I'm the Dean and I Approve This Message!" type stamp. I hope.

Of course, in the spirit of looking on the bright side, I was delighted that this particular law school still wanted my form. Like, as if they're thinking about me. It's nice to know my application isn't posted to some bulletin board for all to laugh at before they send the rejection. Or if it is, they're still very particular about keeping up appearances. "We must have EVERY FORM in before we totally reject you."

Anyhoo. Happy Birthday, Veloute! I will now have Business Time in my head for the rest of the day.

Oh, and Weebl and Sometimes Weebl's Friend Bob would of course like to wish you one as well.

First, they came for the documentary producers...

Let's get things straight: the situation in Gaza is dire; and the BBC should have broadcast the DEC appeal (although what with the fallout from Brand/Ross, the Queen's exit/entrance, the Blue Peter cat and all the way back to Gilligan, it's clear the corporation's in a permanent damned-if-you-do situation).

That said, the issue has dragged a few nasties from the ideological woodshed. Here's one Josie Hines of Bradford, on Saturday's Any Answers:

"You're not permitted to say anything against Israel. If one says anything, as an individual, one is automatically anti-semitic."

Her point may have carried more weight had it not been prefaced with:

"It is possible that perhaps a large part of the hierarchy of the BBC may well be Zionist Jews who will have a great influence on the situation."

Known unknowns

One of the rules that most writers learn is to be very wary of the word "famous". The phrase "the famous actor Judd Nelson" is wrong, goes the logic, because if he is indeed famous, the adjective is pointless, and if he is not famous, it is untrue.

I used to follow this diktat, until I started working in Bangkok. Writers here seem desperately keen on the adjective "renowned", which is really just "famous" with a built-in positive spin. A hotel bar will be proud to present "the renowned jazz saxophonist Wally Schtuppe"; a restaurant will promise diners traditional Thai dancing from "the renowned Hogplum Theatre".

At first I cringed at all this incessant renown; until I worked out what it really meant. You have to understand that Thailand, as a rapidly developing nation, has people in positions of wealth and influence whose parents were rice-picking peasants; it is also home to a great many expatriates who would have led fairly humdrum lives at home, but suddenly find themselves in a lifestyle they might previously only have seen in the pages of Hello magazine. Add to this the overwhelming social pressure, prevalent in many east Asian societies, to maintain face at all times; and you've got a critical mass of people who are suddenly expected to be au fait with fine wine, classical music, designer frocks and all the cultural gewgaws associated with a successful lifestyle.

So what "renowned" means in these cases is an implicit nod to the culturally befuddled: this person is worthwhile, it says; this person's name is worth dropping. And if everybody in Bangkok (or everybody in Bangkok who matters) reads that Wally Schtuppe is renowned, then everyone will believe it. The fact that Wally Schtuppe's been playing bar mitzvahs in suburban Omaha for most of his career is neither here nor there, and certainly not to be mentioned in polite society.

Of course, once you leave Bangkok and start raving about Wally, and the Hogplums, and the renowned modern artist Cornelius Ding, and the renowned post-fusion tapas chef Mimosa Pondicherry, you're on risky territory. You might be exposed as someone who knows nothing about jazz or dance or art or food, beyond what you read in a fawning advertorial in a free magazine in Starbucks at Central Chidlom. On the other hand, you might discover that your new friends in London or New York know bugger-all either, and they'll start hymning these people's praises too, just as art critics began fawning over the entirely invented Nat Tate. And from such combinations of chance and embarrassment are lasting reputations made.

(All names changed to protect the irrelevant.)

Tim's fashion tips

Like anybody, I've worn things that ought to bring a shudder of embarrassment if I catch a glimpse of the photos. Dungarees. Hawaiian shirts. Leather tie. Braces. Drainpipe jeans. Floral waistcoats. (Not all at once, I hasten to add.)

But, since I've rarely been a casual employee of fashion, let alone a slave, I can usually brush aside such indiscretions on the basis that I didn't really make a conscious, calculated decision to make those purchases. Most appeared in my wardrobe by a sort of retail-related osmosis, the only thing pushing me towards any kind of proactivity being the fact that the alternative was public nakedness.

The only time I've ever felt particularly part of a fashion gang, and made appropriate purchases, was in around 1987, when I used to hang around on the fringes of a bunch of people who were into rare groove and its associated genres; essentially, old soul, funk, Latin and jazz records, and a smattering of house and hip-hop, played in ramshackle warehouses and basements, in atmosphere that combined louche irony and sneery elitism. (I discussed the scene in more detail here.) There was a uniform of sorts, and damn, did we adhere to it. Odd that most of us were still celebrating our recent freedom from institutions that tried to force us into uniforms but hey, this isn't an exhibition at the V&A.

This is the way we wore:

• Black Doc Marten shoes or boots, but not the knee-highs favoured by Goths and gay skinheads; possibly brogues or brothel-creepers at a pinch. Black, white or Argyle socks. NO TRAINERS. Trainers were naff. People who wore snow-washed Wranglers wore trainers. We didn't even wear trainers when we were dancing to Run DMC's 'My Adidas'.

• Blue, black or (if you had the legs) white Levi's 501s, rips optional, provided it wasn't too obvious that you'd done them deliberately (a difficult trick to pull). Or black or khaki chinos.

• Plain white cotton shirt, or black polo-neck. Option of plain white t-shirt in the summer. ALL TO BE TUCKED IN. Worn with black or navy blazer/suit jacket, or Levi's denim jacket, or MA-1 flight jacket. For smart occasions, an ironically flamboyant - but not consciously comedic - silk tie could be worn.

• Headgear was optional: black trilby or red spotted bandana; beret at a pinch.

• Females could wear any of the above: in addition, they had the options of tight black skirts and cream-and-blue striped Breton tops.

The thing is, I don't feel the slightest bit embarrassed by any of this, except maybe the bandana. Can anyone else look back at what they were wearing about 20 years ago and think, "Yeah, I looked pretty good"?

What kind of convenience store do you run here?

Laughing my ass off, I got this off Wonkette:



SURELY that's not what she meant. Surely.

Explain that to me again without the numbers and pat my head.

Shit. I was really hoping this wouldn't get nominated. Who was I kidding?



The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is so the new Forest Gump and no one is pretending it isn't. I just have zero desire to see it. And even people who like it are all, "It's LOOOONG."

I have at least already seen and enjoyed Milk and Frost/Nixon, though I still need to see Slumdog Millionaire and The Reader.

I'll watch all of the acting nominees that are still around, of course. There really don't seem to be any big surprises...maybe Robert Downey, Jr. for Tropic Thunder--not really Oscar-type fare, normally--though of course against Heath Ledger...that category's a given. And I guess The Reader is somewhat surprising...but it was still a possibility, nothing truly surprising.

I do hope In Bruges gets Best Screenplay, and I'm hearing great things about Waltz With Bashir, which I would love to see (Best Foreign Film, Israel). Other than that, I'm just really not that excited about anything in particular. I just hope I don't adore Slumdog, loathe Benjamin Button and then have to sit through another Forest Gump beats Pulp Fiction moment. That one still pisses me off.

Here are all the nominations, they air February 22nd (Sunday) and Hugh Jackman is hosting. Hmmm...still don't know about that one. I'm sure he'll be fine, it's just an odd choice.

No Doubt

Back together.

Shut up! Or, should I say, don't speak? Anyways, No Doubt are reuniting! And going on tour! Now, I feel like they should have at least released a single if not an album first, but whatever. I guess it's back to the 90's this summer. They are going on tour with Paramore. I hope Gwen is cool after all of this. After all, "The Sweet Escape" wasn't as good as "L.A.M.B.", so the girl must be depressed. Oh, whatever. More here.

Lily Allen

La Isla Bonita

The three-nippled freak of nature, Lily Allen, bought an island after being intoxicated. Now this is the kind of stuff I live for. Well, not really, but it's this kind of stuff I love Lily Allen for! Not only does she have a superfluous nipple, she also owns an island on Jamaica. More here.

Wanna come up to my room to watch Iron Chef? It's all about mushrooms tonight.

It's just so foreign to me to not loathe watching the president on TV...and look, he's not lifting his tuxedo pant leg to show us his cowboy boots, it's just...so refreshing! I just can't get over how cool this is.



Though as happy as I am, I was glad to see The Daily Show take a very small jab last night, comparing clips from Obama's inauguration speech with clips from past Bush speeches and how they were largely similar messages. Jon Stewart wanted to know what the difference was, and Jason Jones just got really flustered and upset and said something along the lines of, "I don't know, Jon! Why does cheese taste so good when you put it all over Italian food but if you put it all over Chinese food, it's just really gross?"

(Of course the speech was more than the sum of a few paltry clips, and I thought there were some good parts, having seen the whole thing, but The Daily Show's supposed to be a funny show, kwim?)



And my dad sent me a comment I really loved, from a commenter on yglesias.thinkprogress.org

"I noticed that Cheney was in a wheelchair and looking poorly. Amazing what happens when you cut off his supply of infant's blood and put him out in strong sunlight."

Hee hee.

Ok, shower time. You know it's too cold in the house when the cats won't even get out of the bed to be their usual annoying morning selves. ("Are you gonna fill the food bowl? Huh? Huh?" "Hey, turn on the bathtub water I want drips! MEEEEEEEEOOOOOW!") No, instead they look at me like, hell no woman, and curl up in a ball and mock my having to get up.

That's ok, it's supposed to get near 80 by the end of the week. And tomorrow night I'm off to Austin for a couple days where it should be 81 on Friday. So wrong...I'll be totally sad as I sit outside sipping a Mother Ship beer eating deep dish cheeeeeeeesy Mangia...

Taylor Momsen

Wild Child!

Little J of "Gossip Girl" is not a wild child! She's told Page Six how she hates being labeled as a party girl and that all that she ever does is sit and home and play the guitar. Although this kinda reeks of Lohan, I don't care. It's boring! However, what is not boring, it's this clip that surfaced on the internet not so long ago of Momsen escaping the paparazzi. Holy shit! No wonder they call her wild!

12 books

One thing I love about LibraryThing is the chance it gives you to create whole lives for strangers on the basis of their book collections. But I'm almost at a loss when it comes to one bfromma, who I noticed because he owns a book that I wrote but of which I don't appear to own a copy (and wouldn't want to, and I only wrote it because I really needed the money).

Bfromma, if we can judge from her/his online catalogue, owns 12 books. One could make a few assumptions on this basis alone, but wait: the 12 books cover six subjects. There are two volumes each - no more, no fewer - on the following subjects: Blink-182; Slipknot; Pink Floyd; Motley Crüe; The Texas Chainsaw Massacre; and the Manson killings.

A collection such as this does not come about by accident, I feel. This is a man (it has to be a man, no?) who wakes up one morning and declares: "I wish to become more acquainted with the story of Iowa's finest mask-wearing nine-piece rock combo, Slipknot." Having perused one volume on the subject, he realises that all such narratives are necessarily subjective, and acquires another. He reads that, and now, he feels, he gets Slipknot. If someone at his place of work holds forth about Slipknot, he can keep up with the conversation. "Ah yes," he will remark, "but did you know that they were originally called The Pale Ones?" His colleagues will be impressed. Perhaps they will ask him out for a drink, or invite him to join their shove ha'penny team. Maybe Francesca from marketing will be sufficiently moved that she will be persuaded to touch him in an intimate manner at the Christmas party. This is what happens when you possess two - two - books about Slipknot.

Next, Charles Manson...

I'll hit you so hard they'll arrest you in El Paso for speeding.

So I have been terrible about mentioning recent movie watching...so far it's already a better year than 2008. (I mean movie-wise for me, but then taking today into consideration makes it even better...)

The weekend before last I saw Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino and the much-hyped indie flick Rachel Getting Married. I'm really not the biggest Eastwood fan--I like him just fine, I just can't say I seek his stuff out. But I really enjoyed this one--the less you know about it the better. It's the way the story unfolds and becomes about something different multiple times along the way that I found really impressive.



Sure, his character is a little recycled from characters past, but whatever, he does it well. The other actors...let's just say it, are pretty damn bad. I admire the effort to recruit people from the exact ethnic background as written, and I get that these are all first-timers, etc., etc., but on more than one occasion, the acting is so bad (the dialogue can also be faulted here and there) it nearly takes you out of the movie.

This matters not, it's still a kick-ass movie. And by the end, there was not a dry eye in the house.

Rachel Getting Married is a lot like last year's Margot at the Wedding. If you didn't like the latter, don't watch the former. Grainy indie movie + severe family dysfunction = Good Times.



Rachel is better than Margot, though. It doesn't smother you with angst and it's a more compelling look at two sisters' uh, drama, shall we say. It's not the most uplifting movie, but it's not a downer, either.

This past weekend my sister and I saw Frost/Nixon, which we'd been trying to see since xmas eve, but stuff just kept getting in the way. (Ok, we went shopping instead, arrest me.)



Obviously, it was great...and it didn't really reek of being a Ron Howard film, which is perhaps due to its having originally been a play, who knows. I would have loved to have seen the play, which both Michael Sheen and Frank Langella originally starred in before reprising their roles for the film. Honestly, it seems better suited to film, but I'm sure I could be surprised.

And I'm always thrilled to see Michael Sheen doing something other than play Tony Blair or be in another Underworld flick.

As for DVDs, I'm halfway through Fanny and The Milagro Beanfield War, neither of which I've seen before. The former is so! melodramatic! but it works, and the latter is quite different from what I imagined. I can't tell you what I imagined, but it's different. Hopefully they finish as strong as they start...

This wouldn't have to do with the fact that one of us is president?

Squee!



It's going to take a while to sink in...

Let's touch tummies!

So I love that it's happy hour in downtown Fort Worth, and I am totally on my own, laughing hysterically at random blog posts. Avoid the crazy girl.

I was getting an especially large kick out of this post from a fellow Westerner living in Japan.

I should also probably warn you that I couldn't get it to select that exact post, so I had to search "titties" and then link from there. So all the following posts after it involve, yes, "titties." You're welcome.

Scarlett Johansson

Gentlemen prefer *natural* blondes!

Holy moly! Scarlett Johansson does a Marilyn Monroe - inspired photoshoot for a D&G campaign. Everybody seems to be going Marylin lately. Remember Lindsay Lohan's take on the legend? The pics were good (and racy!), but the Scarlett ones are probably gonna be WAY hotter, judging by the one that has leaked. Check out the Lindsay Lohan ones here and here (or don't, if you can't handle boobs), and read more about the new D&G campaign here. Which ones do you prefer?

Julia Roberts

Out of her face!

Julia Roberts went ballistic after having a paparazzi follow her around Venice, California all day. Luckily, it's all on tape. And it's priceless - I love watching her get all crazy and nuts and repeatedly using the F-word. The guy actually sounds scared. America's sweetheart, anybody? Seriously, Britney has got NOTHING on her.

Amy Winehouse

"They tried to make me go to rehab, I said no, no, no,..."

Yup, that's Amy Winehouse you see up there. I know the girl never actually looked normal, but now she's even wackier, that she's off drugs. She now lives on some remote tropical island where she does weird exercises (similar to whatever she's doing in this pic) and basically begging every living being to have sex with her. Here are some extracts from The Sun's interview with her:

On her husband wanting to divorce her:
“I still love my Blake. I won’t let him divorce me. He’s still in jail but the moment he comes out I’ll be there waiting for him. I love him because he’s just like me. Blake is the male version of me. We’re perfect for each other. I don’t want to go back home to England. I want to wait for Blake here.”

On sleeping with other men:
"While Blake is in jail I’m still gonna have a good time — he can’t do much about it. But once he comes out we’ll be together again. There’s some nice lads here, I am just having fun. I don’t want anybody else because I’ve got my Blake."

On quitting drugs but still getting wasted:
“I am not doing drugs and am doing lots of fitness. I’ve started writing songs. I feel great — apart from today. I feel like s**t after a late one last night.”

On rescuing a woman on the beach:
“I thought she was going to drown. All of a sudden she just fell off the boat and was thrown by the sea on to some rocks. I ran down and grabbed her and helped her back to the beach but she was covered in scratches. I might get myself a job as a lifeguard here!”

On constantly hitting up guests for threesomes:
The male guest, who asked not to be named, told me: “As soon as we arrived at the resort Amy was all over my girlfriend. She was telling her, ‘You’re gorgeous. I’d love to **** you. Bring your boyfriend, he can watch’. She was quite clear what she wanted, she was saying, ‘You two can spend the night in my room’. If she had been at all good looking we might have done it."

So yeah, there you go. They tried to make her go to rehab, and she said, no way, I'm gonna get some booty on some godforsaken island! You go Amy!

So you have quenelle...

Last week I reviewed five restaurants of varying degrees of conceptual delusion and this week I'll almost certainly do the same, or more. As a result I believe am perfectly at liberty to say that this is the best scene of any film ever ever ever:



(And it may be the last video I post here, as YouTube interface appears to have gone utterly hatstand. Has anyone else found this?)

Maybe we can't see heaven because one of us is a J-O-O.

So I finally started watching the American version of The Office. The pilot had me worried, as it was just re-doing what the original had already done, but the actual episodes, thankfully, go in their own direction.



And it's hysterical, I love it. The best part is that it isn't true pain like the British one. (Which I did like, but it made it hard, you know...) Honestly, Steve Carell does a great job, but his Michael is just kind of an asshole. When Ricky Gervais did David, he brought a genuinely pathetic element to the character so you really felt bad for him. You hated and pitied him all at once, it made it far more painful.

But the Jim/Dwight dynamic (replacing the Tim/Gareth duo in the original) is fantastic. There was something magic about seeing Jim chunk an ice cream sandwich at the window in Dwight's "workspace" that just made my day, I had to rewind it. (It had been a long day...)

Also, I finally watched Zorba the Greek, a movie my dad has long suggested.



Hmm. I really liked the characters, Zorba especially of course, but that movie had some cracked out moments I just don't know about. Mostly the villagers. I mean, what the hell is their problem half the time? It was quite odd. But overall it was very enjoyable...don't know if it would make my top 100 as it does my father's, but I'm still glad to have seen it and could revisit it in the future.

And last weekend I saw Gran Torino and Rachel Getting Married, which I have yet to blog about, and hopefully today I'll get to see Frost/Nixon. Squee!

Tom Cruise

Hitler's Nightmare!

Tom Cruise, the lovable weirdo, had another strange statement. He said in an interview that, growing up, he wanted to kill Adolf Hitler. "As a child studying history (?) and looking at documents (?!), I wondered, why didn't someone stand up and try to stop it?" This all has to do with his new movie "Valkyrie", where Tom plays a role of a guy conspiring to kill Hitler. Apparently, some actors take their jobs more seriously than others. Full story here.

Ashlee Simpson

Bonnie and Clyde

Ashlee Simpson and that boyfriend of hers, Pete Wentz are set to star in an upcoming episode of "CSI: New York". Now, I've never seen the show, but I can't help but wonder if these two can really fit into anything. But hey, let's give them a fair chance. Rumor has it they will probably be a pair of criminals on the show, much like Bonnie and Clyde. Let's wait and see.

Chris Noth

Quote of the day

Here's what Chris Noth, aka Mr. Big had to say about there being yet another "Sex and the City" movie:

"I bet there will be another one. Too many executives want too much money."

You said it, sister! But I don't see how this is a bad thing for you, since Mr. Big is, like, your only important role. But seriously, what's gonna happen in the next movie?! Carrie taking her grandchildren shopping!?

Patrick Swayze

Out of hospital

Remember "Dirty Dancing" and its dashing star, Patrick Swayze? He's been battling cancer for over a year now, and has recently checked into a hospital because of pneumonia. He has this really bad form of cancer, and though some gave him weeks, the doctors have evidently done miracles. He is now out of hospital, recovering in his LA home. More here.

Lily Allen

That's hott!!

Here's something freaky for you, ladies and gentleman! That cute singer from London, England actually has a third nipple! And you know I'm not the guy who likes to gossip without evidence, so check out the clip below! Lily is apparently not shy, so she shows off her superfluous nipple, and even lets the reporter touch it! Gotta love it!

Late adopters of the world unite

Maybe I had to wait until Patrick McGoohan died.

Yes, I am now just another number.

I am on Facebook.

Here's your tea. Do you take lemon or peyote in yours?

It's that slow at work, we're debating the meaning of the lyrics of Me & Julio Down By the Schoolyard.



I always thought it was about a homosexual relationship...seems too severe for merely smoking pot, but getting caught by a teacher masturbating also seems to be an interpretation. Naturally, Paul Simon says he "doesn't know." Thanks, internet!

Lindsay Lohan

Turning a new leaf!

Our favorite lesbian-de-jour, Lindsay Lohan, recently gave an interview that actually revolved around her acting, which is always refreshing. She talked about how she hates how people label her as a party girl, how she doesn't get serious roles (like the ones Scarlet Johansson does) and how she wants to turn her career around. She also shares the piece of advice given to her by the late Heath Ledger. Lindsay has a new movie in store for 2009 which actually looks really funny, check out the trailer below! Full story here.

Blake Lively

Even More Gossip

Yup, that is her. The star of the teen soap opera "Gossip Girl" has recently graced the cameras of "Vogue" in a retro photoshoot. The reactions are so far amazing, though many are criticizing her for her Golden Globes look. There are also some people thinking that for "Vogue" to take the current it-girl and feature her on the cover is simply a reaction to the problems the magazine is facing (less and less people are buying it, plus Anna Wintour may be getting the sack). But I can't hep but love the photos! Now, not only is Blake going retro, the entire show is - the CW network is thinking of making a spin-off series that would take place in the 80's with a teenaged Lily van der Woodsen (currently played by actress Kelly Rutherford) as the main character. Yawn. I say, recycle the spin-off idea, and bring us more "Gossip Girl"!

You can find two more photographs here and here.

Joaquin Phoenix

Still Singing

Rumor has it that Casey Affleck is to direct a documentary about Joaquin Phoenix. This sounds a little dumb, don't you think? What sounds even more dumb is that Joaquin Phoenix is reportedly ditching Hollywood in order to pursue his musical career, which Affleck will document. Smart move! You went from playing a fireman to playing Johnny Cash, and now that your career actually exists, you're gonna play some music? And have someone tape it? I'm SO not watching. More here.

Vivienne Westwood

I Heart Pamela

Have you read the latest interview with Vivienne Westwood? The fashion designer actually had some pretty interesting things to say, like how not to be a fashion victim, or what to buy when you go shopping. However, she wrapped up the interview by saying that if she could pick out of any person from the arts, cinema or history to represent her brand, she would pick - Pamela Anderson! OK, so Marie Antoinette wasn't really a professional, and Madonna can sometimes be bitchy, but Pamela!? I didn't know she designed one-piece red bathing suits. More here.

The bigot in the woodpile

I've written before about the difficulty of reconciling an artist's work and politics, and how it's sometimes necessary to draw a veil over some writers' more rabid asides.

For example, here's that old rogue Jorge Luis Borges, describing the return of the Gods in the parable 'Ragnarök':

It all began with a suspicion (perhaps exaggerated) that the Gods did not know how to talk. Centuries of fell and fugitive life had atrophied the human element in them; the moon of Islam and the cross of Rome had been implacable with these outlaws. Very low foreheads, yellow teeth, stringy mulatto or Chinese moustaches and thick bestial lips showed the degeneracy of the Olympian lineage.

...which isn't exactly an extract from Der Stürmer, but still, it's not really the sort of thing we like to hear nowadays, is it? There's a number of possible responses to this sort of thing. You can excuse it through context: it's a dream sequence; maybe it was translated badly; it's postmodern irony, stupid. Or you can treat it with polite, strained embarrassment, as if JLB were a glum uncle who's had one too many gins and starts mumbling about the blacks and the poofs and how they ought to bring back flogging.

In any case, within the space of a few lines, Borges offers up a sentence of pure, audacious magnificence:

We took out our heavy revolvers (all of a sudden there were revolvers in the dream) and joyfully killed the Gods.

Which is so glorious that it makes everything feel OK again. Doesn't it?

Kate Winslet

"OMG, I WON THIS BITCH!"

OK, so the Golden Globes have come and gone, but one thing I always pay attention to the most when it comes to awards like these, are the acceptance speeches. And here's a little game, you need to try and guess who this is. Who forgets Angelina Jolie's name? Who thanks Leonardo DiCaprio before thanking her husband? And who mentions the hair and make-up department before her kids? Oh, and who looks like they've been wanting an award since "Titanic", and are so excited, they're having multiple orgasms? Kate Winslet.



And here's one of my favorite ones. Halle Berry, acting out after winning the Oscar. I just love how she can't catch her breath, crying and stuff, and Nicole is like, hating her, while Gwyneth is embarassed and Renee is emotional. Awesome. "I wanna thank the academy for choosing me to be the vessel." Don't you just love award season? :D

Britney Spears

Britney to join Carrie and the gang!

I always thought "Sex and the City: The Movie" was a bad idea. Then I was almost-right, with the movie being somewhat satisfactory, but not nearly as fabulous as the show itself. Plus, they cast Jennifer Hudson as the surprisingly-annoying assistant of Carrie. Now, they're doing it all over again. They are making a sequel, PLUS they're thinking of throwing in some Britney for good measure.
Sarah Jessica Parker told MTVUK, "My idea is to have someone like Britney Spears move to New York as my cousin or niece and Carrie would show her the ropes.” Now, this sounds as total gossip to me (I mean, since when is SJP involved in the writing process?), but still, it sounds interesting, in theory at least.

Prince Harry

The Sophisticated Prince

The Spare, as Prince Harry is sometimes referred to, is misbehaving again. After he was criticized as racist earlier this week for calling someone a "Paki", he is now praised for being almost gay. Peter Tatchell, a human rights activist has depicted a scene of a video which features Harry mouthing "I love you" to a colleague (!) and then kissing and licking him (!?) as a sign of liberation and enlightenment. The whole thing must have given the Queen a headache. Full story here.

Back again!

I am very sorry for not posting in a while, and temporarily closing the site. I am however proud to announce that your favorite celebrity blog is back and running.

xoxo
Nikola.

Wot no euphoniums?

Mooching at a dodgy DVD stall on Silom Road yesterday, I come across a copy of that underrated Britflick Brassed Off. The packaging, it would appear, is taken from the US release. It presents the movie as some kind of daffy romantic comedy, with Ewan McGregor and Tara Fitzgerald being the only actors of interest. There is no mention of the 1984-85 miners' strike, which forms the backdrop to the film.

Nor, oddly enough, is there a single reference anywhere to brass bands.

Brothers in rhythm

The next time some plausible bigot starts wielding The Bell Curve or a similarly specious tome to justify, ever so politely, the notion of white racial superiority, I'll just show them this:



followed by this:

Hey, somebody's gotta be the designated drinker.

Dear Flying Saucer Waitress,

Hi. Just a quick note. So when I walk in and find the one last table and it has no chairs and then I ask you, "hey, are there any chairs around?" well guess what. I don't think you're hiding them in the back. It's just that it might be nice if you'd snag one from another table that isn't being used. You know, to save me (hi! remember me? I'm the customer) the hassle of bothering your customers, making the establishment look inept and then parading that chair back to my table in my six-inch heels. As part of your job, ya know, it might take you all of thirty seconds. You spend far more time standing there looking around telling me, "What you see is what we've got. Had a shortage lately. Maybe someone isn't using one?"

Gee, ya think? And wow, that brain power is simply astonishing, just fyi.

I realize you're busy and hey, for all I know, eight other people called in sick. Maybe the owner and the bartender, too. And guess what. I don't care. I really don't. Years in retail have beaten it out of me. Years of bending over and taking it with a smile have really taught me to respect others who go out of their way for me.

You are not one of them.

So smile when you collect your shit-ass tip.

Ta!

Ellen Aim

I washed down my rage with several vodka martinis and a pill I found on the floor.

Due to my being in and out of the room during red carpet douchebaggery (I mean, it's just the TV crowd right now, who cares? ok, just kidding), I have actually been able to see a few commercials, which I never have to watch anymore (I adore you, Tivo).

There was this Dr. Pepper commercial with a computer animated six-pack dancing to the theme of Cheers as it found the snack aisle. Maybe I'm betraying my age, but it made me want to kill myself a little. Or at least hurt others.

If they insist on making me cry, I'd like to remind them of this blackmail material right here:

Let's go to a family movie and look for gay subtext!

So I watched 3 movies today I'd never seen, trying to catch up on my Netflix. One from 1949, one from 1983 and one from 2006. The first of these was White Heat.

I honestly didn't see many James Cagney movies growing up, as my dad found him especially loathsome. I say "found," as he seems to have mellowed on him in recent years. Either that or I made the 'nog too strong over xmas, as he was actually recommending a few Cagney films to me.



But anyhoo, I've seen parts of this one before, but I really enjoyed the whole thing. It holds up great, with some really clever moments and a nice strong ending. Vaguely demented ending, one might say. Still a really tight film, especially if you're after some good tense gangster action. I could even see owning this one.

Followed that up with Risky Business, which I somehow missed growing up despite it coming from my era. I watched it at Alex's recommendation, and I'm really glad I had some warning that it is completely unlike most 80s movies we know. And particularly from all the iconic crap you see over the years:



you would have NO IDEA that it's a little bit darker and certainly a lot odder than most films of this uh, genre? It took some unexpected turns throughout and I really hope to god there wasn't a moral lesson in there somewhere because I believe I infact learned to be less moral from watching that movie. Not that there's anything wrong with that. (Just kidding... *cough*)

And despite my standard loathing of Tom Cruise (except in A Few Good Men, he is totally perfect in that) I didn't really mind him here. He can do a good job on occasion, it's just that he's so often horrendously miscast when producers seem to think he can do more than those one or two notes and GUESS WHAT. No.

I don't need to own this one, but I did enjoy the overall strangeness of it. It was somewhat disjointed plot- and pace-wise, but hey, it kinda worked for me. It ended up being unusual, which was surprising since by the time you get around to a lot of these iconic films they've been so heavily mimicked and ripped off that it's stale before you start.

After that, I finished up with a German film called Four Minutes. This could have been really eye-glazing feel-good mainstream tripe that I'd still have secretly liked for the piano playing, but it, too, took some unexpected turns and stayed fairly dark and surprising.



First of all, hooray to see Jasmin Tabatabai getting work. She was the lead singer in one of my all-time favorite flicks, Bandits, and she has a minor (but key) role in this. But what is it with Jasmin and prison movies? She does her fiery bitch thing again (only, uh, no good soul this time) and we're again in a women's prison. But this story revolves around two severely socially maladjusted people. One is the piano teacher and the other, one of the prisoners who used to be a child prodigy, playing piano internationally. She now has anger issues, to say the least.

Sure, there's some of the expected bonding moments, but unlike most Hollywood movies, not only does it not make everything better, in the end they are both still severely maladjusted people (for reasons drawn out over the film, naturally) and the film is very consistent with not trying to pretend this is something easily fixed. And it's not the cutesy "I'm shy" type of maladjusted, it's far more "I don't want to hear you play that Negro music" type of socially wrong. And that's coming from the piano teacher.

I thought it started to maybe fall apart a little near the end but then it quickly composed itself (ha ha) and made up for a little sprawling with a very good ending. Definitely recommend and wouldn't mind owning.

And today is Golden Globes day! My dork is showing, I know. First of all, a very special fuck you to Fox, for programming the 2-hour season premiere of 24 right up alongside the awards. (Or as dad likes to call it, my "right-wing propaganda show.") I'm not caught up to this season yet but it's close, so I was going to have Tivo do its thing for me. Wrong again! I guess Kiefer and the show weren't up for an award this year (though looking back it appears they have been nearly every year in the past). Bitter much, Fox?

Anyhoo. Really looking forward to the awards tonight. We all like some hot press conference action, truly, but last year was a bit dry. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go squeeze in about 9 films before 7 pm at the movie theatre...