Welcome to my new series of cool things I have recently found/seen/read on the internet. I don’t suppose we need anymore introduction than that, do we? Continue reading
I have a new favourite film blogger (and movie buddy); it’s Jillian of The Pink Panther Snipes Again.
Jillian reviews films on her blog that could be considered a little bit off the beaten track. It’s not like they are all obscure though, Sabrina Goes to Rome and Sabrina Down Under were quite popular TV movies back in the late nineties, though I had forgotten about both of them until Jillian reviewed them in her inimitable style.
It was when she reviewed Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same that I knew this was a girl after my own heart (before, actually but what? I’m playing it cool here). A bit of back and forth by email culminated in us arranging a virtual movie date and this is it. Welcome to our virtual movie date!
Since Jillian and I live on opposite sides of the world, we have been forced to watch the same film at different times, rather than share a tub of popcorn on the same couch. We’re aiming to post our reviews on the same day (today).
I think this is such a fun idea and it was all Jillian’s. I know we have to see how the first date goes but if it works and we both have a good time, I hope we’ll do this again. J, I’ve sort of based the structure of this post on yours as a tribute and… next movie choice is yours.
NB: Beware of spoilers. If you haven’t seen this film yet but intend to, you might want to look away now.
Ginger Snaps (2000)
After shortlisting a few gems on Netflix (both the US/UK versions), we decided on this one. I’ve seen it before and am a big fan, while this will be the first time for Jillian (who had to source a copy as, surprisingly, US Netflix doesn’t have it). UPDATE: She has seen it before, I lied. My bad.
Where to Watch:
The Fitzgerald Sisters are obsessed with death and suicide, and in keeping with this theme, have made a pact to each other to get ‘out by sixteen or dead on the scene’ (which I think means killed themselves). Unfortunately, the sisters’ bond is tested when Ginger is bitten by a werewolf.
The (Very) Uncondensed Version*:
*This sh@@ is looooong
Ginger Snaps opens with a fairly innocuous establishing shot of a normal overcast day in suburbia. A mother is raking leaves in the yard while her young son plays in the sand pit. The kid appears to have blood on his face but as he has his back to his mother, she doesn’t notice straight away. Oh but we do, we dooooooo!
An update post if you will, as boy do we have a lot going right now.
What, it’s Christmas and everybody is buzzing around like bees on ecstasy? You’re right, my bad. How’re you coping?
Here are a few of the things I am thinking about right now.
- Lena Dunham
I’m finally on Not That Kind of Girl and haven’t even passed the Introduction yet. But I’m looking forward to it.
Sadly, the book already has a reputation that proceeds it, given the uproar it has caused over the last few months. People are forming new Dunham shaped opinions all over the shop due to some of the subject matter (and how it has been sculpted by Lena’s choice of language), but I am remaining on the fence until I have a context to relate it to.
I love her style and I can’t see that changing any time soon, but she might allude to stabbing puppies in the final segment, so you never know.
- Christmas Shopping
I’m done! Did it all in one sitting with the help of the trusty internet. The lovely, lovely internet.
- Christmas Movies That Retell A Christmas Carol (And/Or Feature an Alternative Universe) From the Perspective of a High Flying Business Woman (Always American) Who Has Lost Sight of What Is Important
All, you might have noticed, straight to television masterpieces. And yes, I do love them more than Coco Pops. Amusing because, of course, no woman can climb the career ladder without transforming into a total bitch of epic proportions!
(If any of you know of any more films of this ilk, please let me know).
- Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud
I am obsessed.
This week hasn’t been easy and some new news has made it even more difficult and emotional (which I’m not going to go into) but I have been reminded that I have a fucking wonderful family who are strong and incredible people, come rain or shine.
It’s easier to deal with the shit stuff when you have an army of rock stars on your side, that’s for sure.
- Jake Gyllenhaal
We recently watched Nightcrawler and I really enjoyed it. Following the last of Jake’s films I absolutely loved, Enemy and Prisoners, he’s now pretty much my favourite. Such a talented (and fit) actor.
Nightcrawler follows creepy Louis Bloom into LA’s underground as he becomes interested, and then really quite good at, the business of crime journalism.
OMG this book is fantastic and so completely up my alleyway, that I #canteven! But if I could, I would tell you that the fact that Christopher Nolan has been offered the film version of it is knicker-wettingly exciting and I squeaked a little when I heard.
(Even though the scriptwriter has admitted to have taken ‘liberties’ with the original source material, so you know, boo to that).
So, that’s me. I hope you’re all doing well and enjoying the lead up to Christmas. I’m not feeling that merry yet, I have to say but that has to be because I haven’t seen enough Christmas movies yet (I accept non-Dickensian rehashes too). Soon to be rectified, I hope.
Last night I dreamt I was the best-selling author of the only Emoji Dictionary. That’s how much of a modern gal I am.
On waking, I was dismayed to realise it was in fact all a fantasy knocked up by my subconscious, but honestly, if there isn’t already such a thing, why can’t I be the one to make it come to fruition?
I bloody love an emoji, or emoticon as some people who aren’t me call it. Why spend an age trying to find the words when a steaming (smiling) pile of shit can do it for me? Love something? Heart eyes! Feeling sick? DEAD FACE. The list of lazy, one image answers to every life question is endless and no, I’m not even sorry about that.
Which is weird as I am not a lover, on the other hand, of the abbreviation. Unless used in the very loosest, ironic sense. Confusing this whole techno no-no, yes-no; I don’t even know malarkey, isn’t it?
Anyway, since it is Sunday and I am kicking my heels until it is time to go to my BFF’s to watch Love Actually, I thought I would share an exert from the soon to be global phenomenon that is the Emojionary. You like?
Here are a few of my favourites (and most used):
Heart Eyes – As previously mentioned, this is the “Omigod I LOVE it” shortcut. Designed for fashion items and beauty products of exceptional interest, Heart Eyes is also the best way to make it known that your friends are cute little buggers who are like, totes adorable.
Mr Poo – I hate toilet humour most of the time, certainly of the fecal or vomity variety but on a few occasions, there is nothing more poetic than this little guy. He’s so content and comfortable in his own skin (?).
Nailz did – Well, of course this is overused in my world. In answer to “What are you doing tonight?”, it’s a must. Also to sign off on conversations where you have agreed to do someone’s nails. It’s like a little business stamp, but pretty.
Autumn Leaves – I just love it when the Season changes from Indian Summer (when we’re lucky) into Autumn. This is when these little scamps come into play. “Would you like to go for an Autumny stroll and then have hot chocolate?” calls for the holy trinity.
Pizza and/or all other fast food related emojis – Hands down my favourite emoji action comes from the foodie ones. The fruits are up there with the best of them, as they make a message light up like Carmen Miranda’s g-string; but the burgers and fries and pizzas are truly magical. Usually used to illustrate the perfect Friday night in, these emoji bad boys are probably used with the most relish (Geddit?!).
Applause – For when someone has been a clever little sausage, or has said something really cool. Though, there is a dark side to the Applause emoji: the slow clap, which is not a compliment and is overused in messages to stupid people. Beware.
Muscular Arm (which could be a chicken drumstick) – I always feel it appropriate to use this when talking about something that means a lot to me. See feminism, gay rights, anything like that. It signifies strength and I like that it isn’t gender specific. It could do with a whopping great tattoo on it though, but that’s my personal preference.
Which leads me into a rant about the emojis we don’t yet have. I mean come on Emoji Makers of the World, really no unicorn?
I propose the following as soon as possible:
Unicorn (as mentioned)
Cup of tea
Tattoo and/or tattooed person
Two hands making the universal heart shape
A finger flipping the bird
A willy (everybody needs a penis every once in a while to convey how their boss is behaving, right?)
A hand holding a cigarette in a cigarette holder (for an old school glamour injection)
Which ones are your favourites? And are there any emojis you’d like to see? Perhaps I can put a word in for you with the EMOTW when I meet them.
What’s the best story someone else has recently told you (in person, preferably)? Share it with us, and feel free to embellish — that’s how good stories become great, after all. Via The Daily Post Daily Prompt (2nd November 2014)
I stumbled across this prompt a couple of weeks ago and loved it. I have so far not been able to find the motivation to write it though. Perhaps today is the day.
My best friend, Panda and I laugh about my favourite story a lot and I don’t know why it tickles us so much. Yes, it’s about Tom Hanks, who we love more than we love our own families (not really, we love him like family) but it’s also quite dark and very sad.
NB: I should state here that I didn’t hear this in person recently, it was several years ago and found by accident online. I can’t for the life of me remember where or who or why I ended up with this information but the important thing is that I did.
Wanna hear it?
My story goes like this. Tom Hanks was killed in the 9/11 terrorist attack back in 2001. He was, for some reason, in one of the towers when it came down.
Once discovered by the ‘Powers That Be’ who run Hollywood, but miraculously nobody else in the world, a meeting was held (I’m embellishing now) in a plush office at an undisclosed location somewhere in California. Earl Grey and pink donuts were served.
The PTB were so concerned that the movie industry would never recover from such a tragic and gargantuan loss that they decided that nobody else could ever know (bar the Hanks family, one presumes).
Instead, they would create a hologram of The King of Hollywood, who would continue to make movies, television appearances, produce in name as normal and even appear on the red carpet; as if nothing had happened.
Unfortunately, it was leaked and recorded on the web, thus taking its place as my very favourite conspiracy theory of all time. Even better than the one about Whitney Houston being sacrificed so Blue Ivy could exist (a soul for a soul, bitches). God, I have issues.
The thing is, I look now and I can’t find the original source. I mention it to people and they’ve never heard it. So did I imagine my own conspiracy theory? And if I did, what on earth does that say about me?
Or… am I the only other person in the world to have accidentally read this story in the few seconds it took for the ninjas to crash through the roof of the culprit’s condo and rip it out of existence forever?
Personally, I think the fact that this story has been removed from The Internet is suspicious in itself. Therefore, clearly true.
I love Tom more than anything, so of course I would prefer my Hanks alive and kicking, however did you ever hear such a fantastic tale? I never have since.
And, lest you think my internet digging was fruitless, I have to say here that if you type into Google ‘Tom Hanks Conspiracy Theory’, you will find some absolute gems.
The theory that Tom Hanks has never existed because ALIENS is sheer perfection.
This week Kim Kardashian West attempted to #breaktheinternet with the release of some rather grand photographs of her butt.
Shot by Jean-Paul Goude for Paper magazine, the cover (right) pays homage to her famous derriere. Dig a little deeper (as if you’re not interested) and you will witness Kiki ‘re-imagining’ Goude’s best known image “Caroline Beaumont, New York, 1976“.
The Internet seems to still be in tact, just about, but what of all the minds blown by the photographs themselves? People are amused, shocked, disgusted, outraged, curious, excited and royally pissed off by the images.
Kimmy has been the butt (pun intended) of many jokey tributes (including some frankly creepy/unflattering ones) and criticised all over the shop for being a bad feminist, a bad mother and yet again a talent-less, plastic nobody. So far I believe she has turned the other cheek (!!) and I hope that she continues to do so.
NB: Kim did tweet this following release of the pictures:
What has all those knickers in a twist really, though? Is it the nudity, or the apparent Photoshopping? Is it the ‘pointlessness’ of it all? Or is it just that it’s Kim having the audacity to celebrate how bloody hot she is?
I know it’s a broad topic and one that has so many arguments but this post is really about butt appreciation from my point of view, so I shall take it from here, guys.
(And a bit of KK appreciation, if I’m honest. Another Proud Pleasure).
Kimmy, in general, to me is something special. I know where she began, what she has done (who doesn’t? She’s kindly documented almost every aspect of her life for us). I know that technically she doesn’t have a ‘talent’ (singer/baker/candlestick maker), but what if her talent is having a work ethic that would make a mere mortal weep?
What if her super power is having the ability to continually pick herself up, dust herself off and turn all her mistakes into gold? Those are talents I can get behind.
I like Kim, love Keeping Up with The Kardashians and I like Kim’s body too. She looks sensational almost all the time and she’s banging, dammit.
I’m not into body shaming, all bodies types are fine with me and I appreciate the female form as much as the next person. I love seeing curvy women celebrating their curvaceousness as much as I like seeing svelte women representing my favourite designers on the catwalk.
Personally, I don’t have anything against the use of thin women to promote anything as long as there is a visible alternative. How heavenly it would be to see those alternatives in the mainstream, and not just as an afterthought. But that’s a whole other topic for another time.
I’m voluptuous and trying to be proud of that. I’m unlikely to ever be quite as banging as Mrs West (shocker), but as a short woman with a small waist and a big old booty, she is closer to my body type any day than the Keira Knightleys of this world (love her). So why not be happy to see that in all its glory? I sure as shit am!
In another shot within Kim’s issue of Paper, we get to see her full frontal. No, I don’t really see the big deal. It’s just a pair of (great) boobs and very smooth private parts (a fitting tribute to the work of her waxer). She is young and looks amazing. Her pose is playful and proud, not even particularly sexual.
But she’s a mother, say some? Heaven forbid that she teach North to be proud of her body as she grows up. That would be awful. North will see these images one day and you know what? By then Kim will have had the talk with her that explains some of the decisions that she made, that have made her who she is today.
Trust me, North is going to have a more complex time wrapping her head around the cult of celebrity, reality television, Daddy Kanye and the Kardashian Family en masse. Nakedness and an infamous bum are going to be the least of it.
Yes, this is a simplistic view. Yes, the photographs look heavily Photoshopped, thus giving us mere mortals yet another unrealistic ideal to aim toward. We’ve long known that pretty much every cover, every photograph we see in fashion magazines has had the same work. It’s part and parcel of the fashion industry and will hopefully change one day.
Had Kim stood up there in all her natural, oiled goodness with her butt at an angle to emphasise its ripeness would she still have got it in the neck?
But, of course.
Thoughts? Can you add to this conversation?
None of the photographs within this post belong to me.
Back in the early noughties, back when I was still fresh, single and somewhat naive, my friends and I found a delightful source of entertainment called Love@Lycos.
It was the sister site of Lycos.co.uk the search engine and was solely designed for dating, hooking up and lurve.
Set up so you had your own page (sort of like Facebook looked when it first began), you had a visible bio, pictures if you were feeling brave and you could chat to your heart’s content, either privately or publicly (as I recall). Nothing that innovative thinking back but it was user friendly and like, the funnest thing ever!
Now, dating apps are ten a penny and people meet people everyday with no qualms at all. Which is great. But then, to us at least, this new gateway through which we could fearlessly talk to boys (or in my OBFF‘s case, chicks), was wondrous and exciting – we were obsessed.
The three of us, OBFF, B and I would all go to work as normal, Love@Lycos chat all day on the sly, then reconvene in the evenings to compare notes.
During this period in time I wasn’t all that experienced, had had just the one ‘boyfriend’ and a small series of silly liaisons. In fact, I recall (and this may make another full Stories post) having just been dumped by text when we moved to Brighton from our hometown. Text!
So I was snogging boys like crazy, from work and the like, but was definitely looking for love by now (hey, I’ve always been a romantic). Hence pinning my secret hope on the love part of Love@Lycos.
Alas it was not meant to be. I don’t remember any of the boys I talked to now except one, and only because he takes his place on my Map of Life as the Only Boy I Have Ever Met From The Internet/First & Last Blind Date. Which is pretty significant, I feel.
Looking back I can’t believe I was so brave when it comes to meeting RunsWithScissors. He just seemed to be attuned to my sense of humour and seemed to like WondyWoman as much as she liked him (Wondy was my alias).
He ran a website that seemed sarcastic and bright, lived in London and was willing to come to Brighton for the day, I believe he had a sister here. So all systems were go after a few months of back and forth.
Our chatter was not sexual or particularly flirty (that I remember), so perhaps this is where the balls came from to go and meet him IRL. I don’t know.
All I know is that, one Saturday night, I somehow made it to Palace Pier by way of the corner shop, where I stopped to buy a tiny mini-bar sized bottle of Cointreau. As the sickly cough medicine kick of the orange liquid hit the back of my throat, I started to calm down. And with every step I felt better.
When I saw him, I was delighted. I can’t say how he felt when I rocked up, but he didn’t run away or stand me up so it felt positive enough. There was no attraction at all on either side though.
I should point out here that we hadn’t seen each other’s real photographs. This was a blind meet. Almost unheard of now!
He was very good-looking. Dark, piercing blue eyes with great chiseled bone structure. He was also charming and funny and exactly what it had said on the tin.
We spent all night laughing in the Hop Poles and then he came back to mine. When it came time for bed, I leaned in close and whispered minxily: “You can have my bed if you like, I’ll sleep on the sofa…”
And he let me! In the morning, we woke up early, had a cup of tea and then I drove him to his sister’s house.
No kiss, no romance, just a good fun night.
We stayed in touch for a little while longer, but like lots of things around this time, it fizzled out. I’m sure he did, and I hope he has had a lovely life as he was a lovely guy.
What I learned: This may have come around the same time I started to realise you could have male friends that you didn’t kiss. Sounds stupid now, but I used to look at every boy I saw as a potential love interest and that didn’t always make for a good time for either party.
Meeting and getting on well with, but not shagging/snogging the arse off every male I met (or imagining it, more likely) was a new and fruitful discovery. As soon as I got my head around this phenomenon, my life got infinitely better and easier.
So it was a good lesson and a good experience. I haven’t met anybody else off the internet since, except my husband, but I don’t count that as we had already met in the flesh. The Internet facilitated our long distance relationship, but it was not born of it.
I’m all for internet dating. It looks so fun and I love hearing stories about it. My friend recently signed up to Tinder and although, like most things, there is obviously a dark side to it, she finds it hilarious.