I woke up today feeling as bad as Jackie Stallone's plastic surgery. Just incase anyone has forgotten quite how shocking that is, here you go:
I figured that the best thing to do was look at some nice happy pictures.
Exhibit A
Exhibit B
Another good way is to watch films such as The Breed, Final Destination and The Last Gateway because these people are worse off than I am. My cure: lemsip, honey, a couple of chapters of New Moon and a couple of episodes of Nighty Night. The group of 'fun-lovin' youths in The Breed have to go rock climbing with arrows sticking out of their legs to get away from the scary dogs... And the poor kid in The Last Gateway (see trailer below) has a door to hell hiding in his tummy.
I'm worried that I'm wasting the rare witty remarks that pop into my head on @Twitter. I mean... it's not like I'm a naturally funny gal, like Dawn French. Although...
Life is a Roller Coaster. This blog is literally the only stable thing in my life at the moment.
This month has been a musically bounteous one.
From Glasto and Blur
to MJ "R.I.P"
and not forgetting Take That
If I wasn't such a wilting coward, I'd talk about 'cool' bands thats 'rocked' Glastonbury and openly criticise how Carl Barat is SO 2002. (Despite his massive comeback at Glasto '09: come 8.00am Sunday morning, equipped with acoustic guitar, singing What a Fuckin' Waster.. super glad i didn't miss that).
Instead. I'm going to write a smallish review to saturate your minds and tell you about the show of the decade. TT. Sitting somewhat strategically next to Jason Orange's twin brother (J.O being my definite fave) my Mother and I got to enjoy a truly stupendous show. The Circus.
Lady Gaga opened the show. And her legs. It was the second time I'd seen her that week. The second time round I could see more of her face. The first time round she forgot to put knickers on. And also forgot the month... 'Hello Glastonbury, its the 26th of July, I'm Lady Gaga..' June Gags... June.
Now, more importantly, TAKE THAT. I was utterly shocked at how supple 3 out of 4 member were (Barlow, not so much). They even had skills such as: riding tricycles holding a leg up to an ear using their supple hips to create snake like wiggles
I could even go far enough to say these men still have the (se)X factor. (Barlow, Owen, not so much).
The first half of the show held the delights of watching them perform their all time classic 'Back for Good'. What seemed like a giant sprinkler was aimed at the stage. It set the scene:
A giant blow up 'circus ringmaster' dominated the stage in the second half. I wasn't sure if the excitement had made me delirious or the overpriced beer had travelled faster to my head then usual, but to me... it just looked like an inflatable Michael Jackson.
As the show slowly drew to an end, I turned to see J.O's brother crying with happiness and a small child crying in fear at the giant inflatable MJ.
I wasn't sure which bikini to buy this year... I thought the Saudi Bikini might be a good idea.
Mood:Amused To Do: Educe
After a pretty exciting 4 days of touring, I decided today was going to be a day full of my favourite things: 1) Super noodles 2) The Apprentice 3) Googling pictures of beached whales and architeuthis (giant squid)
Last night I went to see Drag me to Hell. I was on the edge of hysteria throughout... Brilliantly fun yet frolicking with gore. THUMPS from devils hooves and crusty old ladies faces that appear from NOWHERE make one panic into delusion. The lead role, Christine Brown (Alison Lohman) reminded me somewhat of myself. We both used to have problems with our weight, we both like money and we've both lost buttons... Well. Mine wasn't taken by an old gypsy lady and cursed but you get the picture. I like her. Drag me to Hell: 8.5/10
Sleeping and living on a tour bus is a very special experience. I was a tour bus virgin until a mere week ago. The close quarters in which you and your 'bandies' (in my case: 'MACHINE') live in creates an automatic Brady Bunch feel. Snuggles whilst watching a night time film. Laughing and joking as you discuss your toilet habits and how terribly hard it is not being able to put anything solid down the toilet. Waking up in your coffin bunk which you gradually grow to love more than your standard 'regular bed'. It really is an adventure. My only complaint is that our tour bus didn't look like this:
Me and a couple of friends have decided to do a 'Come Dine with Me- Goth Special'. Dinner number one has been and gone. The house of the contender had lights that turned on as you walked into the room. There was a small balcony for those that wanted to smoke. The gravy was NOT bisto but home made. There was even toilet paper in the toilet. I know now that I need to step up my game if I stand any chance of winning. One major let down was the choice of soundtrack to our evening.. Everything I suggested (from Yan Tiersen to The Golden Silvers) was brushed away and we ended up listening to The Greatest Power Ballads. You might think that Power Ballads at a dinner party could be quite romantic. I can assure you, when tucking into your juicy lamb shank and sipping on your goblet of wine, choking on Bonnie Tyler's 'Holding out for a Hero' is not how I imagine the winning Come Dine with Me to be.
Lets hope my choice will go down well. I'm thinking something along the lines of this:
I love setting the mood...
Anyway.. all this talk of lamb shank has made me hungry. Super noodles, here I come.
I'll leave you with a little reminder that the Apprentice final is skulking up on us. My money is on Kate.
I tried out hair extensions this month. I'm still undecided on whether or not they suited me.
Mood: Alleviation To Do: Ruminate
Its been over a month since my last blog. I don't want to bore you with minor details but SO much has happened. Such things include: 1) Trip to Thorpe Park (Saw ride, what a let down) 2) Viewing 'Let the Right One in' (new opinion of vampirism) 3) Seeing approximately 11 paedophiles singing The Addams family theme tune in unison (thank you Louis Theroux)
Anyway, it's these years of my life which are the decision making years. The years that map out my paths for the future. This month has been home to some pretty life changing decisions on my part. I decided to abandon my LIFE, my HOBBY, my BOB.
After the initial panic of change, I thought about my options and ruminated over the young adult hood of celebrities for inspiration. Lets first take a look at Roxy and Ronnie, Eastenders second favourite siblings (Phil and Grant still at number 1). Rita Jones (a.k.a Roxy)
Now, I'm fully aware that Ipso Facto weren't THAT good but I still have time. Lovin' the dreads Rox.
Samantha Janus (a.k.a Ronnie)
Now, I'm fully aware i can't sing like THAT. But, my latest musical endeavor sees me trying anyway...
Spot Natalie Portman in this.
If she can do it, I can do it, You can do it, WE can do it.
OK. Last one. (Note, WTF is with the fake applause at the beginning??!!)
All starts to go a bit wrong at the second verse. Really Rhianna? Reallly??
So. There you have it. Some good examples of GOOD things. Real inspiration. Raw talent.
I also just want everyone to take a minute and talk about Kanye West's, 808's & Heartbreak (the soundtrack to my blog-writing). Mr. Hudson, nice work on RoboCop. At least he didn't rinse the vocoder too bad. No wait..
The spring weather outside is calling me. I think I might go and sit in Hyde Park and watch the roller disco. I'll be too busy skating for hating. :)
I'll leave you with some SUMMER LOVE. Lets take it back to Glasto '04. Johnny, over to you.
Christian and I weren't working out. I actually can't handle being single.
Mood: Tiresome To do: Reminisce
Free time isn't always good. Right now, I'm sitting in my room eagerly awaiting for my 15.40 opticians appointment to come.
WOW. What a life.
Although, what HAS happened today, which really has been SUPER exciting, is that i received my little 'dongle'. No... this isn't a retarded dildo for single ladies. It's the internet in a stick. YES! A little stick of internet. This means I can browse the web whilst doing the following things:
1) Harassing neighbours' cats because I'm not responsible enough to have my own 2) Polishing my taxidermy: shark in a jar, crocodile's head, chicken foot 3) Eating jacket potato, cheese and beans in my favourite cafe: Cafe Open (aka Ian Beale's toilet)
What is worrying me though, is that I made a deal with myself that I wouldn't join Twitter. My lack of Twitter, (which I hear is the latest craze! Obama and Lynch are LOVIN' it) is making me feel like I'm missing out on something really important. Like when you nap during the day and wake up and its all dark and you feel all funny because the apocalypse and been and gone and YOU missed out.
But... I read an article about a website called Affluence.org. They describe it as 'facebook for the filthy rich'. You can only join Affluence if you can prove you have a net worth of £2million or an annual income of £214,000... SO, basically, I'm restraining my cyber cravings for the day I become a millionaire. As an old friend once told me, "I won't be one of the hangers on unless I have ACHIEVED something." Wise words. Truly wise words.
But yeah... my favourite thing about Affluence is that instead of 'poking' people, you send them a 'hand shake'. Maybe, one day, when I'm not a dirty commoner, I'll be able to smile broadly and give someone a 'hand shake', instead of my usual spit and poke.
Spending this quality time with myself has allowed me to moisten my musical flannel and review some TUNES. My most played TUNE this week is definitely: The Big Pink, Velvet. I literally can't get enough. Followed by a classic that was buried between 'Sugarbabes' and 'Tahnee and Cherish' in my itunes: System of a Down, Chop Suey. Daron Malakian and Serj Tankian=amazing. Now, thats Achievement.
For your enjoyment. Have a little sing along, you know you want to.
In a rather nostalgic mood today. Not unlikely as rolling around the country in a tin can on wheels (a.k.a Ipso Wagon(wheel) ) leaves you with lots of spare time to sit and stew and cogitate on things.
Example:
Choice of music on my ipod to pass the journey today=Slipknot. Nice and relaxing.
It's truly amazing how many various voices Corey Taylor has.
1) Nasal melodic voice
2) Loud melodic, properly projected voice
3) Seductive low rapping
4) Standard angry shout/roar
5) Breathy whisper
6) Growl
Makes Mariah look INEXPERT
One thought leads to another memory...
Humming along to Duality reminded me of the time Ipso Facto DJ'ed at the Magazine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magazine_(band) )after party in Manchester. If your wondering how in hell Slipknot and Magazine could possibly be related, I'll explain all.
So, I thought it might be a BIT funny to play a complete prog set to a crowd of balding old punks basking in their excitement (keep in mind, most of them had been holding their breath for 30 odd years, literally, for Magazine to reform). I began my task.
Song number 1: King Crimson, 21st Century Schizoid Man (current song playing on ipod now)
The dance floor cleared. Compared to the previous 'boogie-able' song (Blondie, Atomic) this obviously came as a bit of a shock. For some WEIRD reason, none of them were prepared to mime the 8 second drum fills or hum along to all 7 minutes 23 seconds of the legendary song. People started looking angry, even upset. A murmur of confusion and rage spread through the audience.
OK. So, I thought I'd be a little kinder. Only Kidding.
Song number 2: Van Der Graaf Generator, Theme One. Only ten minutes into the set and things got a little out of hand. After an encouraging pat on the back from a friend, one man came over (thankfully the DJ booth was conveniently situated high up so he could only peer his receding head over the decks to talk to me). His words, not mine "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" I pretended I couldn't hear him and smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He gave me the finger and walked off. Lovely bloke.
By this time, I was properly (prog)rocking out, thoroughly enjoying my choice of song. After a wee dance, I thought it might be nice to bring the P-A-R-T-Y up a notch or two. SO, i threw Britney's Spears' Toxic in there. Still NO pleased ears. Back to prog.
Song number 3: Emerson, Lake and Palmer, The Three Fates. I had little remorse. After watching BBC documentary Prog Rock Britannia which mentioned that punk ruined prog (shit mate) and the old guy from Egg cries a little bit, I decided I just had to do it for him. And maybe Emerson, although he's bullocks now (sorry Keith). All of the Magazine fans were horrified. Just to help you paint the picture, I was as happy as the daughter in Father of the Bride (Annie Banks, actress: Kimberly Williams) and everyone else wanted to kill me/and/or themselves. I wanted to put the cherry on top of this beautiful experience. DEAFEN some eardrums. Drop some jaws. What better to round off my set then..... Slip(sic)knot. CUE, Duality.
