Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Underworld Twwooooo!!

ACK!! Underworld! Underworld twwwoooooo!!

I am obsessed with the Underworld film. I have all the DVD editions, I have the poster, the soundtrack, including the songs not on the official soundtrack, all three of the novels, and Underworld bookmark that I made, and I even have a fabulous Underworld coat. I have watched it about 124 times, and I watched it with my friend last night. I am so obsessed with the werewolves, that I have daydreamed about constructing one of the suits many many times. Tatopoulos is my god. I forget how many times I watched the trailer, and I am trying to locate the new soundtrack. I am even, going to be uncharacteristic and squeal like an obsessed fangirl.Cover your ears.


Okay I am done now.

And so I have been anticipating the new film for aaages. It came out here on the 20th January. And it is playing all over the country! Hooray! Halleluyah, I have been thinking of little else. It's an 18 this time, so it should be good!

But it's not playing in Lancaster. Nope. Not a one. The nearest place to me where it is showing is 100 miles away. No kidding.

I have checked all the cinemas in Lancaster, there are big ones, and small ones. There are a few Apollos, and a Regent, and a Dukes, and they are pretty much playing all the other big films that are out now. But not a one is playing Underworld Evolution!! So I checked all of the cinemas that I know, back where I live, and the surrounding area. And they are all playing it!

It is like a big black Underworldless hole a hundred mile radius from where I sit. *clutches head in hands* Arrrrrr!! I cannot have possibly commited such a horrible crime to deserve to be at the centre of an Underworldless black hooooolle!

*mumbles about black holes* Arrrrr.

By the way, if you have seen it and ruin it for me, I will actually hunt you down and force you to eat your own viscera.

Thursday, January 19, 2006


New printers need more attention than newborn babies.

What the hell is it with printers (and other assorted software systems) and how needy they are?? I don’t get it. Now I’m not even old, but I think that a well placed “In my daaayyy, we didn’t have any of this *insert nostalgic crap about something nobody gives a damn about here* stuff that printers need to do in order to serve you. *croaky voice* I can remember the day when you plugged the printer into the computer, and it sat in the corner, and it printed.

I bought you! I paid for you, and now you are taking up far too much of my time. As I write this, I am installing my new printer/scanner/photocopier that Santa Claus brought me. (W000T!!) Now I started doing it at eight o clock. It is now 8.55. I am up to the install software CD bit, and it says 7% completed.

7%. It’s fricking nine o clock you needy bastard! Why has it taken me so long? I’ll tell you why.

So I opened the box, expecting to find a printer, a plug, and maybe a manual telling me to plug in the printer. Instead, falls out a printer, a ‘quick guide’ an instruction book, two small packets with ink in them, a registration card, and a shopping card, a cable, another cable, and another one too, all with ports I have never seen before. That, and two installation CDs, which are wrong in themselves and should not be allowed to exist. For reasons as to why, see the term ‘Plug and play.’

After almost falling over from the sheer horror of what I was about to undertake, I started to try to put all this equipment in order. And not cry. I opened the instruction book. It was nine pages long. This, is wrong, for ‘plug and play’ contains three words, three syllables, and no work. This alone, would not take up NINE PAGES. I was most confused. But I decided to pay attention to what the multi lingual instruction manual was telling me, and start piecing the cables together and like a jigsaw puzzle from the printer manufacturing shop from hell.

So once I had plugged it all in, added paper, added ink, pressed the buttons in some weird order in a fashion that bordered on OCD to make it print something that I then had to scan in in order to get ‘the best quality’ (side note, how on earth is scanning on a page that the thing printed out going to make it scan better? No, really, I genuinely want to know. You know what the answer is? Nothing! It’s only so that they can watch us go from mildly annoyed to pissed off to manic to homicidal in point three seconds. I don’t know who they are though. They’re just there.) I added the installation disc. And am currently sitting watching a status bar fill up at the speed of nothing.. 10%. I’m bored.

But the most entertaining thing about this horrible monstrosity that I am currently trying to appease, is how just now it asked me if I wanted to connect to the internet, so that the printer can download necessary updates in order to improve it’s performance and keep up to date. What the fu…in the name of all holy cheese, IT’S A GODDAMN PRINTER!! I bought it, and if, in two months time, it is remotely different to the way it is now, I am going to be cheesed off. Connecting to the internet is not going to make my printer print better! My printer, does not, repeat, NOT need internet connectivity! My printer is NOT going to order books from Amazon, it is NOT going to bid at auctions on ebay, it is NOT going to stay up all night chatting with it’s friends on msn….what the fark does it want internet connectivity for?? I mean, it’s bad enough, that such a complicated structure such as yourself does not understand the simple concept ‘plug and play’ but you want the internet too? Screw you. You’re going to sit in the corner and print stuff like your grandparents used to.

17%. Oh god, why do you hate me?!

And just a minute ago, it growled at me. No, really, it went ‘Rrrrrrrckkkrrrrrrrrckrrrrrr’ and moved a little. I don’t know what it’s doing. Maybe it really wants msn and it’s going to chew my ankle off if I don’t give it to it.

….help me.

Now the printer, that’s complicated. But the instruction manual? That’s just anal. It’s got these big letters at the beginning, saying things like ‘DO NOT INSERT THE USB PORT BEFORE INTRUCTION NUMBER 15 PART II, OR THE SOFTWARE WILL NOT LOAD PROPERLY.’

…oh now you’re just taking the piss. And it did, I got stuck on instruction number 11, where it was supposed to print something after you pressed the on button, that you needed to carry on with the installation. And true to it’s desire to overly complicate things to the point of you want to commit suicide, it had no instructions as to what to do if it did not print this ‘essential’ bit of paper.

After sitting around waiting for something to happen and getting nothing, I did what any self respecting logical and intelligent human being would do.

I button bashed.

After beating anything that looked like it might slightly resemble a button, I finally got the damned bit of paper. Hooray! No early death for me just yet.

Oh my gooooddddd…26%. *sobs brokenly* It wouldn’t be so bad if this whole thing wasn’t all completely unnecessary, ridiculous, and I didn’t have a headache.

And just now, it asked me again, if I wanted to connect to the HP website in order to download the lastest updates. It had this box, that said –

Yes, connect now.

Yes, remind me again in a week.

Yes, remind me again in a day.

Do not remind me again.

That box is grossly inaccurate. They missed out the most important box, I can’t believe they did that! They missed out the box that says ‘SODOFFYOUBLOODY ANNOYINGREMINDER I’VESEENYOUEIGHTTIMESALREADY YOU’RE NOTGETTINGTHEINTERNET ANDIFYOUDON’TBOGOFF IAMGOINGTODROPYOUINABATH YOUNEEDYBASTARD.’



So I decided to write all this while I watch the bar fill up and watch three hours of my life drain away before my eyes. So in the last, I can’t even remember how long, my new printer has required assembly, internet access, paper, ink, internet access, installation that is taking forever, and internet access. It got most of those things. Next, it plans to ask me why I don’t call it anymore, and why I don’t look at it in the same way, and why I have been round the house of that younger HP Laserjet plus down the road all the time.

So now here I am with my laptop on my desk, surrounded by a nine-page instruction book, printer cartridge wrappers, polystyrene, two software CDs, too many wires to count, and a clingy printer that growls at me. I can barely move! I’m going to go get tea and possibly meditate. I don’t even know how to meditate, but right now, it just seems right.

‘Installation complete’ Whooobloodyhooo and hellefrickinlulyah and yay! Now I get to play wid it.

I did something I did something! It works! See?

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I'm so happy.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

I Have Found Jesus.

So I actually bought one or two of the Narnia figures. Why? Because they are the one, single, most funny thing about the Narnia film.

Why are they funny? Because of what they represent. There are many of them, there’s an Aslan one, a centaur one, and a minotaur one, among others. I bought these three, because I like fantasy creatures, and I didn’t have a minotaur or a centaur in my collection. Anyway. We all know, that Aslan is Jesus. Aslan is Jesus, in another world, where he takes the form of a lion, instead of a human. And what has Hasbro Toys Company gone and done? They’ve taken Jesus, and turned him into an action figure. And not just any action figure. When you pull his claw, Jesus bites! Oh yes. I have, you will be pleased to know, found Jesus. He is on my shelf.

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Slashing action Jesus! Take him home with you today.

Moses coming soon.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006








NO WAI!!!!!!

Monday, January 16, 2006

Staples and Stuff

I have a thought. A thought for the day even. It consists of some advice. Good, practical, and valuable advice. Take it if you want to, to discard it if you see fit. It is as follows. Should you ever be doing something, say, repairing some item of stationary that has unfortunately broken. And then, you have a thought run through your head. If the thought, however flippant, is ‘Heh, I give it ten seconds before I staple my thumbs.’ Or something similar, then my advice is, put the item down, and walk away. Do not turn back. Buy a new item.

Do you know why? Because to put it frankly, you will injure your thumbs, dumbass. And by injure I mean staple. And my dumbass, I mean me.

Don’t worry; the above didn’t really happen to me.

Nah, it took me about three seconds, not ten.

*ish sitting here with plasters on her thumbs*

Smart people – buy new staplers. Dumb people – try to fix their own by applying pressure to the part of the stapler that has come apart, which results in them putting their thumbs over the part where they staples come out in the process. And getting stapled. Duh.

Be a smart person kiddies. Have a nice day!

Friday, January 13, 2006

I am always right for crap's sake

People should listen to me more. Why? Because I am always right. No really. This take the piss, it really does.

Like, years ago, Mum's computer stopped running properly, and I had a look at it, and determined that there was no memory left on the computer, the C drive, the only memory drive, was full. And you know how this stops a computer running properly? But Mum kept telling me that it wasn't working because I had put a virus on it. There was no virus on it. I showed her the properties of the C Drive and pointed at it, but that wasn't proof enough. She gave me craploads of hassle for apparantly infecting her computer with a virus that was screwing it up even though I hadn't. It kept saying onscreen 'C Drive is currently full. Please clear some space on it, so the computer can resume normal functions' or somthing like that. It was a bit of a giveaway.

And then we got someone to look at it and he said that it needed extra memory. He put it on, and then it worked okay. Did I get an aplogoy? Nope.

There was no reason whatsoever, it's just that my Mum thinks that she knows more than me, that's it. Which, is all well and good, if she actually did. She regularly says things like "Are you downloading files from one computer to another?" when she means transferring. When I mentioned putting spyware onto my computer, she went "Oh no, you can't do that, then people will be able to look into your computer! Don't do it, you stupid girl." She doesn't know the difference in between hardware and software, and has just tried to convince me that the high temperatures that the computer can sometimes reach, are actually affecting the software, and because of this, the CD ROM drive isn't working. And she is like 'You are wrong, and I am right.'


Help me.

So the CD ROM drive does not work, and I know why. It is because there is some kind of software fault, not a hardware fault. I know this, because it stopped working after I downloaded a software file, and also, I plugged an external CD ROM drive into it. And it refused to accept it. If it was a hardware problem, it would not have done that. It's PROOF! That, is PROOF that it's a software problem! But Mum has no proof, no knowledge, only wild speculations, and she is just 'I'm right you're wrong I'm right you're wrong' over and over.

So we sent it away to Toshiba, and they sent back a cover letter explaining the problem. That the CD ROM is not working because of software issues.

....why does no one listen to me? I hate computers but I know more than you do. Oh look I was right, why are you surprised by this?

Now she is on the phone to someone in ISTANBUL, to talk about a computer that was manufactured in JAPAN and bought in ENGLAND. And she is shouting at the bloke that the computer over heating of the computer has messed up the software. Like, the physical state of the computer affects the 1s and 0s... This is hurting my brain.

You know what's worse than loud people shouting at you? Loud people shouting at you who don't have a first clue waht they are they are talking about. Now she is asking me to prove that the temperature of the computer is NOT affecting the software before she will consider the possiblilty that I might be right. She won't, but never mond that. The sheer sense that this is one of the MOST STUPID IDEAS EVER is not proof enough, apparantly.


I sent it to Toshiba, they gave it back in exactly the same state, and said 'oh run the recovery discs'

Fuck that.

I don't think I have them, and also, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO. I don't care if it's easy, I am not a computer programmer. You are going to do it for me. Which is why I am going to send it back to you, and you are going to do your goddamn job.

What kind of service, takes away your computer, and gives it back to you, all cleaned with a sponge, and then says 'fix the internal problem yourself?'

Ssd thing is I knew that they were going to do that. Ages ago. But no one listens to me, again. I should just stop offering my advice. It's not like anyone can hear me.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Still up. Joke

I'm still awake.

That makes, um, more hours than I care enough to figure out.

Have some funny responses to pick up lines.

Man: “Haven’t we met before?”Woman: “Perhaps. I’m the receptionist at the VD Clinic.”

Man: “Haven’t I seen you someplace before?Woman: “Yeah, that’s why I don’t go there anymore.”

Man: “Is this seat empty?”Woman: “Yes, and this one will be too if you sit down.”

Man: “So, wanna go back to my place ?”Woman: “Well, I don’t know. Will two people fit under a rock?” Man: “Your place or mine?”Woman: “Both. You go to yours and I’ll go to mine.”

Man: “I’d like to call you. What’s your number?”Woman: “It’s in the phone book.”

Man: “But I don’t know your name.”Woman: “That’s in the phone book too.”

Man: “Hey, baby, what’s your sign?”Woman: “Do not Enter”

Man: “How do you like your eggs in the morning?”Woman: “Unfertilized !”

Man: “Hey, come on, we’re both here at this bar for the same reason”Woman: “Yeah! Let’s pick up some girls!”

Man: “I know how to please a woman.”Woman: “Then please leave me alone.”

Man: “I want to give myself to you.”Woman: “Sorry, I don’t accept cheap gifts.”

Man: “If I could see you naked, I’d die happy:Woman: “Yeah, but if I saw you naked, I’d probably die laughing”.

Man: “Your body is like a temple.”Woman: “Sorry, there are no services today.”

Man: “I’d go through anything for you.”Woman: “Good! Let’s start with your bank account.”

Man: “I would go to the end of the world for you.Woman: “Yes, but would you stay there?

And my favouritest

Man: “So what do you do for a living?”Woman: “I’m a female impersonator.”


Oh fuck I can't do it...I got to 1700 words of my essay and managed to be all nice and now it's just all gone out the window and I just compared John Donne's logic and reasoning to that of a backwards five year old. CRAP! Now I have to change it all and play nice.

Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.
Laughable is not an acceptable adjective.

Summary of 'The Flea' by John Donne

The man is comparing the sexual union between him and his wife to being bitten by a flea. And she killed the flea. No there really was a flea, she killed it. So then the genius says that because she killed the flea, she has done a bad thing. And a good way to make up for that bad thing, would be a good thing. So she should sleep with him, because that would be a good thing, and she would make up for it, and then everything in the world would be okay again.



Fuck that.

John Donne has all the intellect of a backwards five year old. A particularly slow one. 'Ooooo you killed the flea! Bad girl! Go to bed with me?' And he does nothing but talk about fleas, in a poem that is supposed to be one that is going to woo his wife back into bed with him. Oh good one man, very romantic. I don't understand why you're not beating her off you with a stick.

I hate poetry.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Oh dear Me Rant

Argg! What is it with people having a distinct and all consuming LACK of basic book knowledge? I kind of despair, and am kind of amused at the same time, when someone goes and does or says something really really stupid, especially when they have been doing the same thing for years.

Like today, I was talking to someone who just bought themselves this interesting looking book. They had it wrapped up in plastic, saying that it was a rare first edition and was published in the 80s. I looked at it, saw that it was shiney and new, and inwardly went '....uhh...'

So I asked to have a look at it, and determined that it was first printed in 2000, and this was a reprint fron 2003, and was a third printing. And then, inwardly '...uhh...' went to '...how??? How how how did you come to that insane conclusion??'

And they disagreed and pointed at the printing page, and said "No, that means it's a first edition from the 80s."

It would have been all well and good, if they weren't pointing at the Isbn number. And also if the Isbn number, didn't have 'ISBN NUMBER' written next to it in those big fuck off capitals that they usually are. It must have had the numbers 1 and 80 written in it somewhere. I can only presume that, I didn't actually see, I was too busy going


and occasionally


and then I finally went


and wandered away to find a happy place.

I particularly like, the auctions that you see on ebay, for Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone.I regularly check them, out of desire to mock people with more money than brains, and also out of some kind of pity. People fleece other people out of their money all the time, they do, and it does make me sad. I can't really do anything about it, because all they do is use clever or suggestive wording. Well most of the time they do, sometimes they really don't and that is when it is funny.

....and due to sod's law, I just looked on ebay and found no real examples that back up my point. Soddit. Maybe the stupid people that I speak of all walked into a lamppost and lapsed into a coma or something. Aw. Shame. My life feels meaningless now, I have less people to mock. Ah well, there's always the emo children. Goddamn munchkins. Yeah.

But I have seen some proper hilarious examples...such as 'Rare Harry Potter first edition *mumblemumblemumblethirtythirdprintingmumblemumble* RARE book, bid strong today! And then, of course, people do. I saw something like that go for about £100 once. Oh dear me. Thirty third printing, eh? Well you don't see many of those. In fact they are so rare, that I am going to cough in a genuinely astonished manner that may even contain some kind of subtle dainty subliminal message that, against my usual naturally calm, reserved, and non biased judgement, illustrates my extreme astonishment at finding such a rare and valuble book on ebay, and also expresses my sincerest wellwishes to you for for uncovering such a lucky find and thus so rightfully so pouring all your resources into it like that. Ahem. *coughcoughYOUFUCKINGMORONcoughcoughahem*


'Scuse me.

Oh my gawsh

I'm a headcase. No really, I am. My brain is just not right. If I bite your head off for you telling me that you love me, that's just the crazy talking. Please ignore it. Or stab the frontal lobe of my brain with some kind of sense inducing fluid, oh please do.

Thanks for the comments Benny and Dobby. I think Benny told me how to reply to them once, but, umn, I got distracted by something shiney, and forgot how to. I'll figure it out sometime, eventually.

I think I might be suffering from a paradox. I am not sure.

Speaking of, I ate one of those a while ago. A paradox, I mean. See I had made some baked potatoes earlier in the day, and then I put some spare ones in the fridge for eating later. Then later I felt peckish, and went and got one out of the fridge, and decided to be lazy and just eat it as it was, I felt like such an Irish bumpkin. Which is half right. Anyway. My friend asked me what I was doing.

Them: What are you doing?

Meh: Eating a raw baked potato.

Them: Raw baked potato?

But that's impossible, if it's raw, then it's not baked, and if it's baked,
then it's not raw. It's like a paradox. And now my head hurts.

Meh: No by raw I mean I am eating it on it's own and I didn't add anything
to it like you usually do and now that you mention it, that is a paradox.

Meh: .....


Meh: ....paradoxes taste nummy.

Umn, so yes, paradoxes, are good to eat.

But I am suffering from one. I don't think that it is because I ate one, unless I like absorbed it through my intestine or something...yeah let's not go there, I can do philiosophy but not biology.

I am suffering from insomnia and hypersomnia at the same time. I suffer from insomnia when I need to sleep, for example, oh, say, night, and I suffer from hypersomnia when I need to be awake. For example, oh, say, the daytime.


Is it because I brought your validty and very existence into question, karma? And called you a fuckwad? Oh wait I didn't do that one. Ah well, I meant to. Fuckwad. Well I stand by my earlier comments. Screw you, you complete bitch.

...I'm such an angry person. You wouldn't think it to look at me, honestly.

Monday, January 09, 2006


Can anyone still remember what it was like, when to be a celebrity, actually meant something? I really can't, and I was hoping that someone could, just in order to save my last shred of sanity. See, I admit that I have watched a little bit of that new Celebrity Big Brother, because, well, to be frank, they are all quite watchable FREAKS. I do like the spikes in that basketball player's nose, I admit. I would love to do that myself, but on me it would just look like I had an accident with a blunderbuss. And if you don't know what one of those, is, well, just go and sit in the corner. And take some copies of Dandy with you.


Celebrities. Or pseudo celebrities, as they shall be known. Let's call them PC for short. There's a pun there somewhere, but I don't care. They're so infuriating. As my friend Benny says, they are people who think that they're the shit, when quite clearly, they are the cocks. Nicely put thurr Benny. He makes a good point. Now here are a few Celebrities. Madonna is one. Elton John is one. Einstien, in a way, is too. So was Diana, so's Johnny Depp, Stephen King, Tolkien, JK Rowling, Tim Burton, and many many others. "Samuel L Jackson!" pipes up Benny. Well if you insist, then him too.

...by the way I am struggling to NOT go into a rant about how if any of these big brother contestants met the REAL Big Brother, they would run around screaming and go insane from the horror of what he entails. I'll give you ruddy big brother...

Now this Celebrity (I use the term incredibly loosely) Big Brother bugs me, as it is full of, well, PCs. Sure one or two of them may qualify, but did you know who that girl from Baywatch was? Did you recognise that...boring guy from that band no one has heard of, with the brown hair? Do you know who that funny man with the girl's face is? I did start to hear voices in my head that were singing "You spin me round round baby right round, like a record baby, right round, baby right round, something something something..." but I wasn't too concerned, I just thought I'd eaten some funny cheese or something.

And that woman called Faria. She is 'famous' for having affairs with two football managers. Oy, now that, that, is really low. She gets to wear the title celebrity because she had an affiar with two married men?

And did anyone recognise - *coughs* Maggot? I know that I personally have tried to repress the fact that Goldie Looking Chain ever eixsted, let alone made my ears bleed with the cacophonious farce that they call music, but I really cannot maintain my naturally taciturn and composed exterior any longer.


...MAGGOT? What in the name of all holy fuck and the little elves too, is up with that?!? The nickname Maggot...I have never heard a worse one, in my entire life. It's not clever, it is not big, nor indicative of anything important like talent or some deeper meaning. Furthermore, it is distinctly unsexy...it's a small ugly writhing worm that no one wants to look at. You can insert your own joke there, knock yourself out.

....the highlight of my evening was watching Chantelle ask, "Is it pronounced Magg - ot, or Magg - it?" Oh, bless you dear, that's not what you say. What you do say is "Oh GOD man what possessed you? Change your name, change your name, for the love of GOD and all the little children change your naaaaaaamme!!"

But the hilarious thing? Is that, as Davina Mcall said about sixty times on the opening night, they have put a "non celebrity" in the house. Em, I hate to break it to you love, but I think you put about a dozen in there. I love the way in which she puts so much emphasis, on how terribly scandalous the fact that there is a 'non celeb' in there, and how awful it is that the poor thing has to compete with these famous people. But...I wouldn't be too worried. I don't think that anyone knows who each other are, and they sure as hell aren't going to notice if someone hasn't done as little - uh, I meant as much, as they have.

And the way in which 'non celebrities' become 'celebrities' by doing nothing! Take people like Jade Goody for example. A woman as aesthetically offensive as she is godawfully annoying. The reason that she got so many sodding TV time and magazine interviews, is, because she is stupid. It's harsh, but it's true, and she's getting paid shitloads for being stupid so she can damn well take some criticism from me as well as the money. She went into a Big Brother which was for normal people, and came out famous, for being stupid and loud and in your face. It's just...so...wrong. It undermines people who work hard, and no one knows their names. You know, the faces behind the cameras and stuff.

Now another thing that annoys me somewhat, is how, when it comes to films, it's the actors and actresses who get all the credit, and get their names put first when the credits roll. The order of interest, when it comes to films, for most people, goes: Actors, directors, people who provided the music, and maybe the people who provided the special effects. It's not fair. I wouldn't be suprised, if the actors did relatively little for the film, and all those hundreds of other people who's names are on the credits but you never see, did three times as much.

Also, some celebrities are more celebrity than others, and it's not fair.

Try this. Wander up to someone, and say, "do you like the Terminator Trilogy?" And they may say "Hoo hell yes, robots rool!" or they may say "Naw, I got really bored and went to watch My Little Pony instead. It soothes my nerves."

And if you ask them, "do you like Arnold Schwarzenegger?" They may say "I'll be back" in a sub-standard Austrian accent and giggle like a moron for ten minutes, or they might say "Nah, big musclebound ageing actor/wannabe mayors don't do it for me."

And, you coouuuld say to them, "do you like James Cameron?" And they might go "Yes! I am one of the few individuals you seek who actually pay attention to who directs films, aren't I good?" or they may say "Hunh? I like robotz."

But, my point is, if you were to say to this Joe Bloggs, "do you like Stan Winston?" Then you don't really have two options, you're pretty much going to get a blank stare, and possibly dribble. Hey this guy says "robotz" when he speaks, anything is possible. My point is, Stan Winston did more for the Terminator films then most of the actors, and would have gotton paid less, and no one knows who he is. My next point is, the 'celebrities' who do less work, are more well known than this guy. It's not right. Stan Winston IS the Terminator. Not Arnie.

While we have our dribbling Joe Bloggs on hand, let's ask him if he likes Kate Beckinsale. He will most likely be unable to answer as the PVC fills his vision and he lapses into a coma, but as least this proves that he knows who she is, and has some concept of Underworld. But once you resuscitate the guy by whispering in his ear that the Borgs are coming and then restrain him long enough to ask him who Patrick Tatopaulos is, then you aren't getting any answers out of him, and it's not because he's trying to run like the wind for fear of assimilation either. It's because no one knows who Tatopaulos is. Granted, hees 'eavy French acceent makes 'eem 'ard to unnerstand zometimes, but that's not the point. The point is, no one knows who animates things, but everyone knows who acts in things. Arg! It bugs me, it really does.

....now I completely lost my train of thought and don't even know where I am. I had a point, but it got lost somewhere after the first dozen words or so. I think it was something to do with damn celebrities who didn't do anything, and how the true talent behind the films never gets recognised...Ah well. screw it. Have a nice day! Eat carrots.

Sunday, January 01, 2006


Ooooooo it's another year! Like, a new one! Wow!

Just like the last one, you dumb bastards.

Bah humbug one and all.