Idiot says, "What?"

Chapter One: Karen Goes to the Coldplay Concert and Spends $75 on Truly Essential Stuff.

3rd of July 2006, I went to see a band that I love. In short? It was awesome. The long story? it was the best fucking, most awesome-mest concert this goddamn-ed person has ever been to!!!!!!!1111!!!! Youth Group opened, and me not being familiar with their stuff, still went along for the ride waiting patiently for the real stars to hit the stage. And boy, did they not disappoint. Sophie Poo and I were that close to the stage that we could see the sweat drops on Mr Martin's face. Unfortunately, we weren't close enough to grab the cameras that they threw out. Some other bastards got it. (Bastards)

Chris Martin had a very engaging stage personality. Those weird movements that he does on music video and live performances telecast on MTV? Well.. they're for real. And Guy Berryman.. dear Guy. Where I was standing I had a direct view of Chris Martin and Jonny Buckland, which was awesome and all that. But can I just say that the aching calves borne from standing on my tippy toes to see Guy was completely worth it? He's hot stuff. Really is. Will did his thing, every beat on key, being a stellar example to little drummer boys everywhere. But man of the concert undoubtedly goes to Jonny B. His riffs, guitar hooks, Christ... simply fantastic. Of course, the band would be nothing if not for the camaderie between the four, and the crowd was definitely witness to that testament that night.

It's definitely fascinating to see the crowd Coldplay pulls in. In the free standing area, there was a mix of teeny-boppers, college kids (us, hello!), artsy-fartsy types and believe it or not, old dudes of the 'I-need-reading-glasses-to-look-at-the-programme' kind. The old dudes were hilarious. They were even more into Youth Group then I was! Puts my father to shame. Hee.

To conclude, the night was fantastic. Fantastic music, excellent company and a totally awesome band meant that the money was not a waste. Chalk one up for good concert experiences!


Chapter Two: Karen Packs for Home in Thirty Minutes and Forgets Among Other Things, Her Driver's License.

I came home from the concert completely beat, so I figured I'd wake up early the next day to pack for home. The alarm was set at eight, to allow time for me to head down to the city and pass Soph One Tree Hill Season 2 as well as buy other random stuff for my room. Alas, I slept through the alarm only to wake at ten, and me being me adhered to the "five more minutes" rule. Finally when I got up again it was eleven ten am. The bus service was arriving at twelve so I hightailed my ass out of bed and got to washing up and taking a shower. Hence, I only started packing my bag at eleven thirty.

What I forgot:
1. My goddamn driver's license. That's one year of hype and longing.
2. My goddamn camera.
3. Yoong Mei's belated birthday present. Sorry dude.
4. The Chairman's farewell present. Re: above.
5. Nick's birthday card. Re: above as well.
6. My goddamn medicine. My skin is absolute shite now.

Idiotsayswhat?

What?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. And then some.


Chapter Three: Karen Comments on People Who Comment.

If you comment on this post:
1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll challenge you to try something.
3. I'll pick a colour that I associate with you.
4. I'll tell you something I like about you.
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory about you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something I've always wanted to ask you.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this on yours.

Warning: Replies might take a mite longer than usual seeing as to how I'm on holiday and all that. So don't feel despair upon not getting a reply. Hell, I'll be damned if no one even bothers commenting, which will probably be the case. Nyeh. Less work for me!

Coldplay is here.

Coldplay is officially here! I'm breathing the same air as them! We walk upon the same island! We pay the same GST to the government! To say that I am extremely psyched is an understatement and a half. And then some.

Anyway, I guess I've officially moved now. We surrendered the key back to College Square. And I'm all set up at my new place. Or at least I've got my bed, my clothes and my Internet set up. By the way, guess who's re-discovering the perks of an ADSL line? Well, let's just say I spent a minute staring in awe at the speed of my downloads. Awe-some! What is my new place like? Well, I'm renting a room in an apartment that has two other tenants, both from China/Hong Kong. The room's pretty alright. Got the basics.. I can't complain. The place isn't completely a dump, but it definitely has a 'lived-in' vibe. This new place of mine is much closer to Melb Uni. It's on Dorrit St which is behind the Royal Women's Hospital. Hmmm.. I can't think of much else to say. Ad, sorry to burst your bubble but I'm going to have to rule out a house-warming. Seeing as to how.. you know, this isn't really my place.

What happened to my sister and I, you ask? Well, we couldn't find a decent priced apartment with two bedrooms and I definitely am so over sharing a room. That's 19 years we've been together. If I was a macho-testesterone-loaded dude, I'd say "that's so gay." But since I'm me, I'm going to say, "Helllllooooo closet space!" instead. She's still staying at College Square, but with some other random people as well. It's weird cause only this year did we start bonding and acting like sisters. Not quite the whole-nine-yards hair-braiding extragavanza I mean, but we talked to each other like adults which was definitely something new. Am I going to miss her? Mate, she's still here living a couple of blocks up! But then sometimes I think I will. If not because of the fact that we've had years of bedroom-sharing between us, then because of the fact that my sis can occasionally be a laugh-riot. When she's on a roll, hell.. it takes a lot of self-control to keep it in.

Anyway, the Chairman has left the building. Hell, the Chairman has left the friggin' country! No more random walks to Safeway at 10 pm at night. No more DVD swapping. No more yummy baked goods from the Baker Woman. No more fashionista. No more feeling guilty about cursing openly (hee). No more making fun of vegetarians (double hee). No more paranoid android (hee hee hee). The Chairman was one of the first people I met in Trinity. First day there too! And now she's gone. -Sob- Forever. Charm I'm gonna miss you. -Sob- Where will I get my fill of home-baked cookies/cakes/apple crumbles for a year?!

Fuck.. I'm freezing. Part of the charm of my new room is that it lacks a windowpane or two. And in a rare moment of benevolence, I gave my sister the heater. This whole kindness shtick is so not all that it is cracked up to be. I should give up on karma and instead demand instant gratuity from the powers that be!

I end this post with this little bit of tidbit: The last time I intentionally hit a guy in his balls was when I was nine. Chalk it up to an intense round of catching. The last time I unintentionally hit a guy in his balls was today. I have never seen anyone else besides me turn that shade of red before. Frankly my dear... it was all pretty damn amusing.

"Let me get some action from the back section!"

So the plan was to move after every six months. I figured it'd be a fun little experience. Ya know, just to have the whole thirty-one flavours. I'm on my first move and ... heh. Somehow over the course of two and a half years, I have eleven pair of shoes, eleven bags, and three bags worth of clothes. I officially have more shoes than my sister. When did that happen?!

I also have a box that has my TV inside, and a box that's aptly labelled 'Audio/Video', just technical terms to make my DVDs and CDs sound as important as they are, you understand. Also, I have a box filled with random stuff, the vacuum cleaner, the rice cooker and books. Oh god.. the books. Jesus H. Christ, the books. Text books, Stephen King books, other non-uni books. And to top it all of, there is a box filled with crockery that neither my sis nor I wants.

Fan-freaking-tastic!

The icing on the cake, surely, must be the fact that my new place has no lift. It's stair-heaven baby!

"Beastie Boys known to let the beat... mmMM 'DROP'."

Why I think the Karma Police are out to get me (aka whinging episode #34 from Karen):

#1. Last Sunday morning I went out to watch the Brazil/Aus game at Fed Square with Spags and a couple of other friends. Thanks to the ungodly schedule and time conversion, the kick-off was at 2.30 am in Melbourne. The sleep thing, or lack thereof, wasn't an issue as I had managed to snuck in a couple of hours sleep during the evening. And I had no plans the day after. The problem was that that morning happened to be the morning where Melbourne charted it's coldest temperature yet. It was 3 Celsius. Although it was certainly entertaining to watch the ten thousands of Aussies finally wake up to the sweet stench of history, I'm not sure if it was quite worth losing the feeling in my toes over. I think about the pros of seeing Kaka on screen and it almost justifies that whole experience. Just almost.

#2. I've been downloading Transamerica on LimeWire and yesterday it finally officially completed. Today I play the movie only to realize that while it's of a pretty decent quality (above the standards of hand-held camcorders in cinemas, but below the picture perfect crisp quality found in cinema screens) there was one very obvious flaw. It's like how I sometimes wish life was with my sister: lips a-movin' but no sounds a-talkin'. I checked the properties for the file, and check this; while there was a codec to compress the video part of the file there was nothing whatsoever for the audio bit. I want to cry. I really do. That's a 700 Mb file on a 56Kbps dial-up modem, equivalent to one year of my life. But wait, that's not quite the clincher yet.

#3. While scanning the tour listing section in the paper yesterday, I was pleased and just a tad excited to find out that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah was doing their rounds at the Hi-Fi Bar. Then I read on and, oh what do you know.. my spirit is crushed. Their playing on the 20th of July. Bloody bugger piss b#a@s!t%a$r#d*s%. That's the third band this year that I've missed out on. The Shins in January, Death Cab on 14th July and this. -sob- Damn you karma!

#4. Also, I forgot to settle my previous fine for travelling without a valid tram ticket and as a result I got an extra penalty. Could there be a lamer way to violate the law?!

#5. I did manage to get my hands on two tickets to the Arctic Monkeys sold-out gig though. And yeah, did should go in the 'YAY' section. However I didn't get it through a 'trusted' website, or as trustful as a site can get in cyberspace. A visit to eBay made my heart skipped a beat, and not in the 'oh-pretty-boy,-will-you-be-mine?' kind of beat-skipping. I posted an ad on a forum asking for tickets and I get a reply from some guy. The deal is I pay half now and the the rest when I get the tickets. Judging by my luck so far, I probably have just wasted 50 bucks. It's maximum dodge man. The guy gave me his friend's banking details cause apparently he "lost his ATM card." What does that have anything to do with online banking?! Oh well, call me an optimistic sucker. And if he really does end up ripping me off, call me an optimistic broke sucker.

#6. Beastie Boys is on rotation in my head right now and it is a n n o y i n g as. Don't get me wrong, I love them and all but it's not the kind of song you can sing along to without sounding like you've got Tourette's. I mean how does one exactly sing/rap along to gems like, "Mike D with the masterjam. Said 'ooh laa laa' and 'thank you m'aam", ya know?

I've actually ran out of steam. Oh hell. I wanted to reach number 7.

I think the bad karma boils down to my incessant over-the-top cussing. Or my misanthropic tendencies that tend to surface when yet another bum/burnout strikes up a conversation with me. I certainly don't do anything to encourage my status as a bum/bo magnet. I get that they probably just naturally gravitate towards like-minded people, but I'm just one girl! Go bother another!

"Now that's high-quality H2O."

This is a post that is not about the band-of-the-week I'm championing. Neither is it about trivia that bears very little importance in the grand scheme of life, the universe, everything. There will be no mention of movies I'm just about pissing myself to watch. This post also has nothing to do with any gripes I have about work, family or retail sales that sell out the size you wear.

Hence, this post ends with me saying I have nothing to post about.

Yeap. This marks the end of it.

Just ribbing ya. Yes, I enjoy amusing myself very much. It's a pathological thing. Put it down to middle child syndrome.

Anyway, I'm in the midst of moving. So I haven't actually done anything substantial yet, but I have scoped out a couple of prospective apartments online and jotted down contact details. But since I had a 8-3pm shift the next day, I asked my sister to call them instead. And she didn't call anyone. Not a single one. Well, apparently she called the first one and it didn't go through so I don't quite know how that deters her from not calling the others (re: "I am Gillian and I am lousy at bullshitting"). I don't normally like depending on my sister for anything cause well, she's as reliable as an elephant showing up punctual four times in a row for a Sunday matinee. Everyone knows elephants only make it three times at best. Anyway, you know, how people say if you want to find an accomodation you've got to do it yourself so you don't end up freezing and homeless and shower-less and freezing and cold and warm-less and heat-less in winter? Guess that kind of holds true afterall.

I want it that way.

As always, I started every year with the intention to 'get fit'. It's not so much a New Year Resolution, but more a guideline for the year. Like, I don't have the full intention to go through with it, but it'd be kinda cool if I did, ya know? Well, as of this year, I have ran exactly 0 km and executed 50 sit-ups. And that was done just only out of guilt.

On Friday, I had every intention to go running/jogging/dying-a-slow-and-painful-death at the local park cause I knew I was seriously out of shape. I'm by no means a grade-A athlete, but I fancy myself fit enough to jog to work with maybe two walking breaks if necessary, and err.. thanks to a sedentary lifestyle and Macca's fries, Macca's McFlurries, and Macca's burgers (damn you, Ronald!), I'm, to put it delicately, quite out of it. So, I had it all worked out.

Plan of action:
11-2 pm : work
2-3 pm : home
3-4 pm : change
4-4.15 pm : park
4.15 pm-5.30 pm : jog
5.30-5.45 pm : home
5.46-7.30 pm : die a little
7.30 onwards : Friday Night Live

But then while walking to work, a bird flew into my head. And I was like, "Fuck if I'm going to run and risk getting hit again!". There was quite a bit more cursing involved, but I'll keep it clean for you kids. End story: no exercise done. But on the upside, I made a fairly delectable hor fun dish for dinner. Tip: don't talk to me about the carbs. Just.. don't. -sob-

Anyhoo, I was all, "Yeah! Today is the day to get my pump on!". It was very Jane-Fonda-Aerobic-Workout-esque. But I woke up late for work, under the impression that my shift started at 11 am, when I received a call informing me, "No, you start at eight today, Sunshine." As if that wasn't bad enough, today was totally flat out and I was completely beat halfway into the shift. EVERYONE wanted a hot drink.

Most problematic customer I've ever had in McCafe:
MPC comes in asking for 3 "really, really weak extra hot skinny" cappucinos. No worries, I tell her. So the milk was heated up to about 75 Celsius, which is usually how high it goes for the 'extra hot' coffees. She comes back telling us (me + other Cafe fella) that it isn't hot enough. So we tell her we'll make her nice, hot fresh ones. We heat the bloody milk up to 90C, got her fresh ones, and ask her to take a sip to see if it's hot enough.

"It still isn't hot enough. Is this a new machine or something?"
"Maam, we heated the milk up to 90C(!) Are you sure you're getting the milk? Maybe it's just froth."
MPC sips.
"No, it's not the froth. Can you heat it any higher?"
"Maam, if we heat it any higher than 90C, the milk will burn."
"Well, it still isn't hot enough."
"Maam, maybe you need to go to the docter's, get your tastebuds checked out cause it's ninety freaking Celsius, mate. Now bloody fuck off and quit hassling us cause you ain't our only goddamn customer!"

In reality, we tell her that there isn't more that we can do. And she walks away in a huff with the promise to never come back again. God, I hope we can hold her to that promise.

That experience put us in one hell of a mood, cause as much as we normally adhere to the 'customer is always right (and they're also usually a right bloody pillock)' maxim, we knew there was no way we were wrong. The machine wasn't broken cause we had been using it the whole day without any complaints, and a fair bit of compliments if I may add. We had the thermometer tell us it was 90C. So where did it all go wrong? I've been tossing that in my head for a bit, but I can't figure it out. Maybe we saw it wrong it was actually 60C? Maybe she really does need a doc? Gah. Sod it all.

Back to the point. I finished absolutely knackered at four, still with some enthusiasm to hit the park. I figured I could just borrow my friend's bike and ride around for a bit. But then I stepped out of Macca's and my somewhat steely resolve was ditched. "Fuck if I'm going to go riding when there's fog bloody everywhere!"

In all my years here, I have never seen fog in the afternoon. Let alone fog at the beginning of winter. Suffice to say I know now why people were coming in droves for a hot drink. And also that this winter is going to be bloody awful. End story: expect to read a lot of whinging about the weather on my posts.

At least I gave you fair warning, eh?

[/Edit]

Also, I found out yesterday that Death Cab for Cutie is doing a show at the Forum on July 14. -sob- Sometimes I just can't catch a break, eh? Oh hell. Coldplay, I love you more.

I've just finished my shower and I'm feeling quite restless now, so I actually logged on to MSN only to have a pop-up tell me that in order to continue I need to download the latest version. Granted, my version was pretty obsolete. Think the dark ages before you were able to poke and make even more insipid smileys. So because I'm using dial-up and downloading Transamerica as well, I have a feeling I might be a sitting here for a while. Hence, I decided to blog about it!

Hmmm... let's see. What else to say, what else to say, what else to say. Hmm.. I could go on about family. Everyone's fine - sort of. Me grandparents are in KL. Talked to them for a bit earlier in abysmal Cantonese. Absolutely disgraceful. Mom and Dad are alright - mostly. Jon is 6'1'' now apparently and just tipping the scales at 100 kg. He's starting his work experience next week at that rock-climbing place at OU. Gill... nyeh. Now, let's not open that can of worms. Nahhh. She's alright, as well. Popular with the dudes. Well, one of the daughters had to get the pretty gene.

10 Consecutive Songs Played on iTunes while on 'Shuffle' Mode
1: All-American Rejects - The Last Song
2: Sarah McLachlan - I Will Remember You
3: Beck - Loser
4. The Ataris - Heaven is Falling
5. Crazy Town - Revolving Doors
6. The Beatles - Across the Universe
7. No Doubt - Simple Kind of Life
8. My Morning Jacket - Come Closer
9. Jimmy Eats World - The Middle
10. Red Hot Chilli Peppers - Fortune Faded

Hmm. Let's talk about the bird hitting my face for a bit. What happened in minute detail was I was standing at the traffic lights waiting for the green man to come on and I glanced at the bird that was pecking at that pavement. I looked straight ahead, not wanting to enrage the stupid magpie and I heard it take flight. I flinched a little and shut my eye momentarily, normal when I hear any flapping wings. And what do you know, I feel something slam into my head! It's feet lightly scraped my cheek and I opened my eyes to see the damn bird on the floor, but closer this time. "What the fuck?!" Checked my hair for birdshit: clear. Check cheek to see if damaged: clear. All about ran across the road regardless of red man. Man, I''m just going to say that this does not help with any Karen-bird friendly relations.

Of course, everyone's all, "Poor bird. Maybe the bird was blind." Gah. That is, after much laughing. And then as an afterthought, "Are you alright?" Friends, you're lucky I love y'all so. Gee whiz.

Anyway, MSN finished downloading. Wow.. Version 7.5 now. Huh.

"You offend reason, sir."

I was honestly actually considering an update, a right and proper one. A sort of day-in-my-oh-so-whimsical-and-wit-filled-conversations-sorta-life post where I attempt to prove that there is more to me than pop culture, movies, celebrity goss, and useless trivia of the pop-culture-related kind. I mean, seriously. How many of you actually bothered to click on the Ralph Wiggums and Weezer links?

But then I found out that Brick has a release date of 10 August 2006 in Australia. And I decided to hang 'right and proper' posts, and right and properly squeal with glee.


Mate, say what you will about my penchant for going apeshit over movies that I have yet to even see the trailer for, but the last couple of movies I went absolutely bananas over and hyped up like so have been generally gold. Hmmm. Shaun of the Dead. Oh, <3.

-ahem-

Anyhoo.. it's got Joseph Gordon-Levitt. And the plot is about this guy, who found that girl dead, and he goes looking for that thing, which of course leads him to other things.. Also, it's got Lukas Haas. He of the "Hey, they made the international sign of the donut" in Mars Attack! I actually do sorta know the plot but it's a bit convulated and I don't explain things well. Seriously, I can't even tell jokes because usually 1) I can't remember how it ends and 2) I usually ruin the punchline owing to the fact that I can't remember how it ends. The two jokes that I do tell are usually received with what can only be politely referred to as 'less-than-enthusiasm'.

If you haven't already heard the only two jokes I can remember, here it is in all it's wordy glory.

Joke #1
Q: What smells funny?

*
**
***
**
*

A: A clown fart.

Hee. It gets me all the time.

Joke #2
Joke #2 revolves around ten big pink ping-pong balls. It's likely that if you've heard it before you'll probably remember it. For life. As proven by my indescribably weak memory actually remembering this one. Anyhoo, it's bad. But I love telling it. If only because it's awesome in all it's simplicity.

I should also add that these jokes are not mine. The first one I picked up while in Costa Rica and the second I owe to someone in Scouts.

Oh! I just remembered a blonde joke too!

Q: A blonde and a brunette jump from the balcony of a high-rise building. Who reaches the bottom first?
A: The brunette. The blonde has to stop and ask for directions.

Tee hee.

And hell, I've got one of those kind of jokes too.

A dyslexic walks into a bra.

Hee hee hee. "Oh, the cleverness of me!" I suppose I do know more than two bad jokes. I guess I actually know four bad ones.

Right. Onwards to a 'right and proper' post then. Thanks to the Earth's cycle, Australia is currently at the start of a particularly horrid winter. I only say it's particularly horrid because it's happening, like, right now, and I can't actually remember how last year's winter was. So, the usual whinging commences then.

I AM COLD. Taking into account the whole matter of me disliking the cold, and rain if I may add, I'm in a ripe ol' mood most days. Luckily because my anti-social tendencies are proportionately inverse to the quantity of heat in the air, I have become a DVD-watching hermit, bundled under my doona, with the heater and the stove turned on. So, yeah. No witty conversations to blog about this time round folks.

"You should have stayed in school" .... "You never should have left."

And that my friends, is the corniest line of May 2006, courtesy of the fantastic screenwriters who brought you X3: The Last Stand (HAHA! If you bought this for an entire second, you are a sucker and a fidiot, Hollywood's favourite consumer!). I watched it twice and the second viewing only made me more aware of the stilted dialogue, the even more stilted acting (save for Kelsey Grammar, Ian McKellan and Hugh Jackman), and how if we lived in the middle ages Brett Ratner will be set upon by the viewing public and pretty much be stoned to a bloody, gory, but ultimately deserving death. Yup, pretty much. On the bright side, that's me - an optimist till the end, I caught the extra bit after the credits rolled in my second viewing. Plus, it was kinda kewl to see Iceman's final manifestation.

"I'm the Juggernaut, bitch!"

I love me some Vinnie Jones, but seriously how under-utilized was he? While his delivery of that line was pretty spot on, I can imagine a lesser actor 'menacing hard-ass baddie' revealing that line for what it's all worth: corn soup with corn-on-the-cob bits and a side of corn bread. I know, I know.. too much. My bad.

And did Brett Ratner take on this project with the aim to piss off as many people as he possibly can? Maybe he had a death wish. I mean, pissing off comic-book, sci-fi, fantasy, Terry Pratchet lovin' geeks! He shall be subjected to many a Vulcan death ray, I think. Or maybe there is some truth behind the "Brett Ratner is the worst director in the world" theory going around the Internet. It's like the Terminator trilogy all over again: "What? There was a third movie? Oh no, they didn't!"

Lately I've found myself wishing on more than one occasion that I'm in the midst of angsty throes of romantic failure. Mainly because then I'd have a flimsy but legitimate reason to listen to 'Punk' princess, Avril Lavigne. I can't help it. She speaks to the rhythm of my soul. Ermmm, right. Mainly because the songs that have been on constant repeat on my iTunes are of the 'oh-my-achey-breakey-heart' type.

Karen's Mix Tape of Endless Desolution; All Round Fitting for One Break-up
1. Bob Dylan - Most of the Time
2. Cary Brothers - Something
3. Citizen Cope - Sideways
4. Joseph Arthur - In the Sun
5. Joshua Radin - Closer
6. Matt Pond PA - New Hampshire
7. Pete Yorn - Just Another
8. Powderfinger - Love Your Way
9. Rachel Yamagata - Be be your love
10. Red House Painters - Have You Forgotten
11. Rhett Miller - Come Around
12. Snow Patrol - Open Your Eyes
13. Aimee Mann - Save Me

But then I swing between extremes and at the end of the other spectrum lies-

Karen's Mix Tape of Happy Sha-la-la Moments, Karaoke Y'all Now!
1. Arctic Monkeys - Love Machine
2. Badly Drawn Boy - Once Around the Block
3. Beach Boys - Barbara Ann
4. The Go! Team - Huddle Formation
5. The Go! Team - Ladyflash
6. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! - Over and Over Again (Lost and Found)
7. The Boy Least Likely To - Be Gentle With Me
8. Mike Doughty - I Hear The Bells
9. Cary Brothers -Waiting For Your Letter
10. Shout Out Louds - Please Please Please
11. The Futureheads//Kate Bush - Hounds of Love
12. The Futureheads - Meantime
13. Kate Bush - Wuthering Heights

On Tuesday, I unleased my shopaholic within and came back with $600+ worth of purchases. I feel this is very apt moment to insert a :(. On the plus side, I came back with my Pentax Optio 750Z camera which I love love love. Cue a :). It's everything and more that I thought it would be. Bring in a <3. Plus I got it on discount! I got it for AUD$ 450, 10% the original retail price and today I check out the Malaysian retail price and it's selling for RM 2,399; which means that I saved over a thousand ringgit getting it here. Hence, the <<<<33333 :D! I kind of went a little trigger happy and as a result poor Spags had to endure being the subject of some of my shots plus one really short horror movie that ended even before it even began. It would have been awesome, Ad.

Huh. I tend to create nicknames for friends, don't I? Adeline = Ad --> Addie --> Addie Spaghetti --> Spags. Dude, I've got you down for 'Ad Spags' on my phone. I also have got a 'Twitchy WA (Walking Accident)' down for a guy who's simply christened David by his parents. At one point, Charmie-Charm-Charm aka BakerWoman aka Chairman and I knew a 'Batman and Robin'. And Snakes? That's really mi amiga, Sammy Snakes, who once was Sammy, and who normally goes by Sam.

That is kinda strange.

Dr. Jekyll is wrestling Hyde for my pride.

Ten reasons why Ralph is my favourite yellow-bellied cartoon character.
























Ten reasons why I momentarily feel better about Beverley Hills.

"Don't be a girly man."

In case you were worried sick about my welfare, take a deep breathe of relief. I've got a new heater now. That's right. I can feel the ends of my toes again.

I called my mum yesterday to tell her that this year will be the last Mother's Day I'll ever recognize. I also told her to pass on the message to my dad cause the same applies to Father's Day '06. See, I've been thinking. My whole life Mother's Day and Father's Day have been acknowledged and duly celebrated whereas Children's Day was ignored and largely confined to school grounds where their idea of celebration involves speeches, upon speeches, upon speeches. Her reply: "Eh, since when got Children's Day?"

Anyway, I told her that until they started to do something about the non-celebration of Children's Day there shouldn't be a special day for the parents either. She started going on about how the role of the mother is integral and yadayadayada, to which I replied, pretty smugly in fact, that without the child there can be no mom. I mean, technically a woman only gains the title of mom with the delivery of a child, right? I knew I had a point, a valid one in fact. And if I sold it well enough, I could expect a windfall of gifts.

Me: "So you see my point ma? Unless you all start celebrating Children's Day, retroactively if I might add, it isn't fair that mums and dads get the recognition."

Ma: "Okay fine. If you think I'm not important then you don't have to do anything in the future."

Me: "Wait.. I didn't say you weren't important. I just said-"

Ma: "No, it's okay. I get it. You're a big girl now and your mother isn't important anymore."

Me: -oh no- "No ma.. Of course you're important!"

Ma: "All I want is for my kids to love me. And now you don't want to celebrate Mother's Day anymore-"

Me: -AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

In the end I gave in. Damn dirty guilt card and parents' penchant to subscribe to it in instances where their superior standing in the family triangle is challenged.

"To read is makes our speaking English good."

From "The Quotable Slayer":

Xander: "Anya, the Shopkeepers Union of America called? They want me to tell you 'please go' just got replaced with 'have a nice day.'"
Anya: "I have their money. Who cares what kind of day they have?"
-No Place Like Home

Xander: "Buffy, this is all about fear. It's understandable, but you can't let it control you. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to anger...no, wait...Fear leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side...Hold on...Hate...no...first you get the women, then you get the money, then you get...okay...forget that."
-The Freshman

My heater chose now to expel it's last breath - one hell of a grand fireball of a finale.

Hence, I am cold. Saya sangat sejuk. Wo hen len. Muy freo.

So I'm doing what I got to do to get my kicks.

That'll do, pig.

I swear, that has to be one of the best damn lines in film history. It's concise, straight to the point and easy to remember. And James Cromwell's delivery? Nothing short of brilliant. Sure, the story revolves around a pig that talks. Who suffers from one hell of a identity crisis. But hey, doesn't change nothing.

I'm currently watching Footloose on TV while waiting for "The Best of Borat" on YouTube to finish downloading and surfing random trivia on IMDb. To top it all off I am also currently eating my body weight in Homebrand (a generic Australian brand) chocolate covered scorched almonds. Yeap. Just another Friday night in the world of 'Wild Thang' Karen. Hey, boring as it may sound, I'm having a ball just watching Kevin Bacon dance himself into a wild frenzy between snippets of Sacha Baron Cohen pissing off the entire population of a country. Or maybe it's the chocolate lulling me into a sense of false amusement. Huh.

So, here's a couple of things on IMDb I thought interesting enough to share.

#1. Neil Flynn, who some of you might know as The Janitor in Scrubs, is 6'6''. After watching an episode where he mock-played Lurch from The Addams Family ("You rang?" hee.), I got curious about his height. And holy cow. He could afford to pass on 3 inches to me, and while I'll then stand at the general average of 5'4'', he'd still be taller than a lot of people in the world.

#2. And the original actor who played Lurch in The Addams Family? Now he's seven foot tall.

That is just... tall.

So on a whim, I've decided to create a top 10 list. Hence, here's -

10 Movies That Karen Was Nuts About When She Was A Kid (before the age of thirteen)

1. Jumanji
I lost count after my eleventh viewing, so I don't exactly know the total times I've watched the movie. Thinking about it now, I can't exactly explain my infatuation with the movie. Hell, I remember loving the movie so much I watch three screenings of it in two days. Weird, huh? I suppose it was the action/adventure elements to it that had me hook, line and sinker. I guess the thrill of believing that such a boardgame could exist in real life got my heart all a-flutter. Or blame it on repeated moments of lapsed sanity? Nyeh. My sister once told me that she saw a Jumanji boardgame selling at Jaya Jusco, and I just about went ape-shit crazy. Then I devoted an entire page in my then diary expressing my pain when I found out she was just lying. Think "I hate Gill" in big, block letters written repeatedly on a page.

2. Stephen Chow Sing Chi's movies
Dudes, he rocks. Flat out. While my sister was a fan of Andy Lau and my brother, Aaron Kwok, I was championing Stephen Chow. It was the slapstick, nonsensical, absurdist humour -

Oh god. I'm at the end of Footloose. Call me a dork, but how cool is that whole dance sequence?! I reckon teen flicks this era need to have less catty bitch fights and more synchronised dancing. Sure they went out of style in the Eighties but if high-waisted jeans can make a comeback, I say anything's possible.

Right. So I thought Fight Back to School was beyond brilliant. I'm actually going through a phase now where I'm on the hunt for Stephen Chow movies. Although technically, I suppose it hasn't start yet. I need to be back in Malaysia to be able to hunt down right and proper Cantonese versions of the movie, not some Mandarin-dubbed piss poor excuse for the movie.

3. Street Fighter
Oh, come on. Like you secretly weren't. If you didn't grow up with Street Fighter on Sega, you are either a product of centuries of inbreeding or you were one depraved kid who is a direct product of parents who started out their relationship as 'kissing cousins'. Sure, maybe your love for the video game did not translate to the film, but watching Ryu being played out on TV was like kid-heaven for me. Years later I would re-watch the film again and feign ignorance at the memories of kid-Karen proclaiming this movie "was the best thing ever and will always be my favourite" when reminded. But the couple of times I caught it on TV when I was a kid was like pure bliss. Well, you know how it goes. Ignorance and all that.

4. Tremors
If you never caught this, you need to drop everything that you're doing and watch it right now. No, really. It is surprisingly good. And by good, I mean I can watch this in the present day and not cringe and rethink my first impression of it. I remember watching this and thinking Kevin Bacon was 'cool stuff'. Of course, 'cool stuff' would later evolve to become 'hot stuff', but that's a story for another day hey. And besides, Kevin Bacon still remains pretty damn hot as it is. The story is an exercise in brilliant scriptwriting cloaked in a campy outfit that mixes good performances and tight directing. The premise is simple. Giant worm-like things that feed on meat end up preying on the residents of a small just-north-of-nowhere town. The way the humans fight back is simpler. Dynamite. No wacky incantations or plot-scheming activity that will utterly fail in the end. It's like a giant DUH when you think about it. I can't remember if there was an explanation given behind their mutation but that's beyond the point. It's shlock campy and I use this term very loosely, 'horror', at it's best.

5. Ghostbusters 1
"Who you gonna callllllllllll?" I didn't know much about sarcasm then, but even I could tell Bill Murray was nothing short of gold.

6. Robin Hood: Men In Tights
Saw ruined Cary Elwes for me. Back then, he was the cute, charming Robin Hood who talked a mile a minute and hung out in the forest with a bunch of dodgy characters who among other things, did old school rap collectively. Now he's the old dude who took life for granted and had to face the choice between his ankle and his family, eventually losing in a lose-lose situation. :( Insipid smiley faces aside, this movie is awesome. It's so packed with gags and jokes that you can watch this movie repeatedly and still find new things to laugh at. I think the last time I saw it was a couple of years back. And boy did I chuckle when I finally clued in on the "new Latin" the pastor was talking in.

*Spoiler alert*

It was Pig Latin. Simply ingenious.

7. Dracula: Dead and Loving It
If you haven't quite noticed already, me? A big fan of Mel Brooks. Back then, I didn't know nuts about the importance of a writer/director's role so I had yet to worship at the altar of Mel Brooks (or Joss Whedon, alternately). All I knew was this show was the hot-diggety bomb. It was lame, yes. And some parts were incredibly campy. But overall the show was boosted by the performance of Peter MacNicol as Renfield, butt-monkey to Dracula. Come hang with my brother and me and the mere mention of "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" has us pissing our pants.

8. Robocop
Yeah yeah... so cringe-inducing. But when you're young and you have it on VHS, you'll sure be spending lots of moments after school zoning out and watching it. Ditto Cinderella. I didn't particularly fancy them two, but we had it on tape and after repeated viewings you tend to start taking a shine to it.

Erm.. I switched on my fan heater and there was a slight burst of flames. That's bad, right? Frick on a stick with a brick! Gill isn't going to be none too pleased about this turn of events.

9. Terminator 2: Judgement Day
I love this movie. Period. How redundant is it to go 'period' then have a period right about it? Anyhoo.. this movie to me is what all action flicks should aspire to be. It's actually got some plot to it! Sketchy, true. But there's some semblance of it. Nicely balanced with some very impressive effects, big explosions, and quotable quotes and there you go: the perfect recipe for a successful action movie. This scene always gets to me somehow.

John Connor: "We're not going to make it, are we? People I mean."
Terminator: "It's in your nature to destroy yourselves."
John Connor: "Yeah. Major drag, huh?"

And the whole "I know now why you cry. But it's something I can never do" bit. Bring in the 'awwwwww' factor. See, it's not that girls are vehemently opposed to action movies. They just prefer action movies that aren't 33 minutes of explosions, 21 minutes of a car chase, 15 minutes of scantily dressed girl throwing herself at hero and 8 minutes plot development -cough- MI3 -cough-.

10. The Little Mermaid and Sleeping Beauty.
One, I always thought that Princess Aurora in SB was the prettiest Disney Princess ever. And the prince? The most handsome. Until Aladdin came along. But Aladdin had the world's stupidest cap/hat/headgear. It was beyond dorky. Two, I was so fascinated by TLM that in kindergarden I made my friends call me Ariel, and even crossed out my name on my exercise books to replace it with Ariel. Three, -blush-. Whatever.

11. The Neverending Story
I don't understand how this made so much sense before. In an attempt to rekindle my childhood memories, I borrowed the movie from the library with such glee. And the only obvious way I think the movie can make any remote sense is if you watched it while you were tripping on a hallucinogen drug and/or smoking incessant amounts of weed.

12. Gremlins
Gizmo = epitome of cute. See, I have a Mogwai of my own.


Awesome.

Know what else is awesome?

That Clerks II: The Passion of the Clerks is coming out this year. It is not a stretch to say that heads will be rolling if it doesn't open in Australian cinemas. My head, actually. While yelling an anguished, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" into the air. I think to make it just a wee bit more dramatic my hands will be raised to the sky, fists curled to project my infinite hurt. I actually checked out the trailer on YouTube and the trailer looks promising. Say what you will about Kevin Smith deciding to create a sequel to a sacred classic but I reckon he knows what he's doing. Afterall, master of weaving insanely entertaining dialogue about the most mundane event is he. Is Randall not the coolest thing next to Brodie or what?

Also, I finally took it upon myself to hunt down the X3 trailer. And nyehhh. I just can't garner any enthusiasm about it, unlike my reaction to number two. I guess all the hype's gone to Clerks II. Come on! Randall and Brodie sharing screen time. A girl can't deny the appeal of that.

The other 24 questions

(I am aware of the unusually high number of grammatical/spelling errors in the previous post. However I am too lazy to go back and correct the mistakes, so I shall just assume that this act of recognizing my mistakes will be interpreted as an act of atonement to the spelling gods in cyberspace.)

7. What shirt are you wearing now?
The ISV shirt. I am also drinking out of the ISV bottle. Who ever said it was all about good karma so had it pegged wrong. People don't go on volunteer trips for the good deeds. It's all about the 'freebies' man.

8. Do you "label" yourself?
If by labelling, you mean putting yourself in a category, then no. I AM UNIQUE. (Oi, pipe down you other 5,999,999 unique individuals). If by labelling, you mean giving yourself a nickname, then no either. But somehow or another, I now respond to 'Kay' or 'Kaz' to a selected few. The sad thing about being named Karen is not having an immediate nickname, unlike say Gillian or Jonathan. It's like my parents ran out of steam when it came to the middle child.

9. Name the brand of shoes you're currently wearing.
Joshua Radin- Closer. Oh whoops. I thought you meant name an artiste you're currently listening to.

10. Bright or dark room.
Naturally lit rooms. There are certain shops at OU in Malaysia I refuse to enter, on the grounds that their excessive flourescent lighting secretly emits radioactive waves to alter a person's spelling ability. Hence, the bad spelling on the Internet. And in graffitti. How disheartening.

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey?
She has a terrific writing style that seems easily attainable but is beyond hard to reproduce. It's one bit innocence and earnestness, two bits heart and three bits soul. Also, she is incredibly random. Which her fan-base greatly appreciates. /end fangirl rant.

12. take a break...
Hon, if I took any more breaks, I'd be on a one way path to flunking out of uni.

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
As indescribably boring as this is, I was sleeping. Much to my displeasure I woke at six in the morning. I absolutely loathe waking up early for no reason. There's just nothing to do at six in the freaking morning.

14. What did your last text message you received on your mobile say?
"TT money yesterday. Come through yet? Luv mum." My mum, she of the concise text messages.

15. Where is your letter box?
Up yours. Ermm.. it just seemed like the natural response to the question!

16. What's a word that you say a lot?
'Jesus' and 'Christ'. And not in the "Praise Jesus. Hallelujah" kinda way. I am trying to hold back a little in front of the more religious, in my defence.

17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
I'm going to assume that 'luv' is broadly accepted under the wide banner of 'love'. Me mum then.

18. Last furry thing you touched?
NOT a pigeon.

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
I've been eating ridiculous amounts of cereal, OT's, this week. And because as far as 'classic Asian traits' go, my stomach is as about staunchly Asian as I'll ever get. To the clueless: Think lactose intolerance and say hello to diarrhea medicine! (I bet you wished you were still clueless now).

20. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?
4. Wait. 3.

21. Favourite age you have been so far?
Nine. And twelve. And thirteen.

22. Your worst enemy?
Pigeons. And cell phones. My sister has been abusing the free talk time we get and calling, "Just to say hello". And all phones in general. I almost hate talking on the phone as much as I hate pigeons. And taking showers. My level of hygiene is questionable at best. Great. Now no one's going to invite me out anymore.

23. What is your current desktop picture?
Veronica Mars. I am always amazed at what fanboys/girls churn out. That applies to the good, the bad, and the ugly.

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
"Gill can you pleeeease stop calling *insert sobbing noises*. No more!"

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly, which would you do?
My answer is always, and I stress, ALWAYS, going to be money when it comes to hyperthethical questions like this.

26. Do you like someone?
The new cast of Big Brother Australia are all kinds of hot.

27. Are you dating them?
As is always my one problem when it comes to finding true love, they're not actually anyone I know. Plus, there's that whole celluloid/TV barrier.

28. If the last person you spoke to was getting shot at, would you jump in front of the bullet for them?
I'll pay someone to take the bullet. I am a millionaire in this situation, am I not?

29. If you could punch one person in the face who's in your life right now, who would it be?
My brother. And in return I'd like him to punch me. It's a thing we do. Regardless of size and height difference we spar whenever we're both around. It's very Fight Club. Without the broken bones or nose bleeds.

30. What is the closest object to your left foot?
My trusty fan heater.

Spoiler alert for Inside Man.

Watching Inside Man requires a test of patience that can usually be found in M. Night Shyamalan's movies. It requires you to hold on to all your burning questions and sit through the entire movie till the end, hoping against hope that the punchline delivers and makes the price of the movie ticket entirely worth the experience. If all goes well, you walk out of the cinema lavishing praise onto the flick while your slightly befuddled mind attempts to come to grips with the ingenius of the film. However, if the experience was like mine after viewing Inside Man, you'll spend the next two days scouring IMDb and other Internet forums trying to properly understand what was the whole premise of the show without ever formulating a satisfactory answer.

Simply put, Inside Man bit off more than it can chew. The star-studded cast comprising of 'old reliable' Denzel Washington, 'Hollywood's current 'It' man', Clive Owen,'The Man to Watch', Chiwetel Ejiofor, with side players Jodie Foster and Willem Dafoe, performed well enough with a script that delighted in observational humour but lacked substance in the grand scheme. The movie should been gold. The execution of the bank robbery was shot with 'A grade' flair. The plot exposition was well paced throughout the story. The screen chemistry between Owen and Washington captured the intensity of the film and propelled the story further. So what went wrong?

Well, plenty. Infact the more I thought about the movie, the more grating I found the film to be. The movie took great lengths to justify a lot of things, which unfortunately failed overall to appease this viewer's questions. I'll just say this much. As great as a movie's premise can be, it all fails when the credits rolling and you're left never quite knowing the motives of the character's actions.

On a side note, I am happy to say that I have renewed my faith in Roger Ebert, the movie critic on Rottentomatoes and the Chicago Sun-Times. For a while there I doubted his ability to critique a movie properly, believing that his 'star power' had blinded him to the basic foundations of his job. Then I read his review for Inside Man. And my faith was restored.

Also, I should probably make clear that my reference to M. Night Shyamalan at the beginning of my post is based upon nothing but admiration and respect. Shyamalan ain't no one-trick pony. But then I suppose this requires a separate blog post on it's on. Suffice to say that he's a demigod in my world and I heart him.

I think Brokeback Mountain, the film, is probably one of the best, if not the best movie adapted from a story. I read the book and I think about the movie, and I can't help but marvel over how the movie successfully captures everything in the story. You know how it is. Movie adaptations usually come out either trashing the original story (case in point, any movie that was adapted from a book by Stephen King), falling below the expectations of the viewer/reader (any movie that was adapted from a book that featured a kid wizard named Harry) or becoming something else altogether from the original (any movie that was adapted from graphic novels/comics). The novella, all 56 pages of it, by Annie Proulx is such a gem to keep.

In the hunt for the digital camera I have narrowed my search to a couple of models.

#1. The Casio EXILIM EX-Z750
#2. The Pentax Optio 750Z
#3. The Leica D-Lux 2

Truthfully speaking, I'll probably won't buy a digital camera anytime soon. Partly because I couldn't be bothered splashing out for one and also because I can't bear to put down my Pentax film camera yet. But how will you experience the thrill of first glimpsing upon physical photographs right after they've been processed without film cameras???

But, if I did go out and get one, I will most probably go for the Pentax model. One, because unlike the Leica, it has an optical viewfinder which I still value in cameras whether film or digital. Two, because I've been taking pictures with a Pentax camera all these years, I'm apt to be biased towards the brand. Three, Leica is almost dead and buried now, so if I do get it, I could face a lot of problems when it comes to repairing it. Four, and this is by far the most important factor of them all, the Pentax model, while not as pretty as the Leica, is sure as hell prettier than the Casio EXILIM.

I am such a girl.

Technically didn't the 'V' in 'V for Vendetta' stand for the roman numeral for 5, first?

That is in no way a spoiler. Unless, well, you're that good. And because I think I know who's reading my blog I can safely assume that you guys are no where near that good. Hee. I admit. I can never really give up a shot at making a wisecrack at other people's expense.

So, I was writing up my essay for my history subject when I was struck with a crippling case of mental block. The ideas were there, they just weren't coming out. I did what I normally do to get over the mental block; ate 3/4 cooked spaghetti, took a shower, watched some Buffy, surfed websites, watched somemore Buffy, watched episodes of That 70's Show, surfed IMDb, just a wee bit more Buffy, and still nothing. The half-filled Words document sat there open, the empty space following the last paragraph sneering, mocking me. So I attempted to force words to come out. Nothing intellectual regarding the U.S involvement in Chile in the 1970s were coming out, save for 'Nixon+Kissinger paranoid!' and 'CIA conspiracy = DUH.' It was frustrating to say the least, the former reminded me that I needed to expand about the Cold War tensions and their experience with Cuba in the 60s and the latter served as a reminder that ConspiracyChicks needed to be updated some time soon.

Then, I started sliding eastward along the upperleft keys to form the word 'qwerty'. If you don't know already, qwerty, that word that may or may not be a word, can be typed out by sliding your finger from the left to right across six letters on the keyboard, starting from 'q' to 'y'. I started wondering what other words could be created by a mere slide and I took it upon myself to find out.

red
fed
few
awe
dew
wed
was
saw
sew
serf
Fred
Loki
milk
hung
drew
grew
brew
hut*
hug*
jug*
and my personal favourite, grease.
*might only apply to keyboards that have the letter 'y' missing.

All in all, I impressed myself by coming up with more than twenty words using the 'slide' technique. Unfortunately what wasn't so impressive was my inability to overcome the mental block.


*Minimal spoiler for V for Vendetta. You have been warned.*

Coming out from the cinema after V for Vendetta I couldn't shake the sense of awe that first engulfed me from the minute V took over the television station and ran his pirate broadcast. Besides some very questionable holes in the plot (but then again can there ever be a graphic novel/comic book/any kind of adaptation without flaw?), the movie marks a brilliant start to a year that has at least two other comicbook adaptations. This isn't in the playing field of The League of Extraordinary Gentleman, kids. It has the political backbone to raise a hundred questions that remains all the more relevant in the world today. V for Vendetta is an example about what can go wrong in a country when fear is the currency of a government's mandate and sedition is the watchword, when free media exists as an utopian ideal, and when the population is placated by a safe and cushy living environment, to the extend that they become nothing but passive consumers of government propaganda. To be able to sit through all two hours and ten minutes of the film, you need to believe that all of the above is possible. Of course, the movie is really a depiction of an extreme version of all that, but surprise surprise, no one can deny it's relevance after taking into consideration history and the state of our world today.

What annoys me about the U.S. Democrats is the fact that they had so many opportunities to call Bush on his less than democratic remarks, but they didn't. Why? Fear, I'm guessing. Or they were waiting for the election to make a grand statement. Whatever, losers. Instead of standing up and telling Bush that it is un-American to tell Americans that it is un-American not to support the war, they meekly sat down and chose the path of less resistance. And the PATRIOT Act? How's about a breach of individual privacy as granted in the UN Declaration of Human Rights? Bush may be an incompetent 'puppet' president. But he sure knows how to use the right choice of words and evoke enough sense of nationality to make the public believe he's gosh darn-tastic. Or at least his speechwriters do. I'll say one last thing though, if Bush keeps going on about Immigration the way he's going now, come January 20 2009 the US will be inaugurating a Democrat president.

Gee, where did *that* come from? Right. V for Vendetta , the movie. You could be doing dumber things besides watching it.

Hot damn.

If you've been frequenting my blog recently or if you've been reading NME or Rolling Stone or any other music magazine recently, you would have noticed that Arctic Monkeys is this year's watchword. The band from Sunderland, with the debut album of all debut albums in year 2006, have been either revered as the sound and voice of this generation's indie rock scene or trashed as a bunch of yuppy-wannabes who attempt to hark back into the golden age of rock but pale in comparison to the rock gods of the yesteryears. Ermm.. Also, some critics might have labled them immature (Jesus Christ. Alex Turner, the lead vocalist is all of 20 this year!) and annoying.


Anyhow, go check them out for yourself and be your own judge.

This

might be of some help. Or even

this

. Or, you could try

this

.

Right then. Now we get to the point of the post.

Unbeknownst to me, Arctic Monkeys recently released tour dates in Australia. Known to me is the fact that both Melbourne dates sold out in all of 5 minutes. Jesus Christ dudes. You'd think this was a case of hard-core fans yeah? Well... yeah. But then you also have the bastards and wankers who buy up tickets only to re-sell them on eBay. And of course, bring in the interested and slightly curious almost-fan who wouldn't mind being fifth row centre and the picture is completed.

So, here's a proposition to you, friend of mine or random reader who chanced upon whatsthedamnurl while Googling 'liking ass' or 'who DOES give a rat's ass?'. Want to go watch them live? They'll be playing The Palace at St. Kilda on August 2nd and 3rd 2006. Don't ask me how much the tickets will come up to. All I know is the official price was AUD$65.50 and the tickets seem to be going for less than a hundred on eBay, which is good cause most tickets generally seem to sell in pairs, meaning you technically save a little. So, anyone out there interested? Leave me a message in the comments page or email. Or if you know me directly, please SMS me. I should probably state that you need to be 18 and above or have a really convincing photo ID. And no travelling costs is covered if you're not in Australia during those dates.

----------

[MSN conversation last night]
"I'm sorry to burst your bubble Jon but things aren't always as easy and obvious as they seem."
"That's ok. I'll just blow a new bubble. HaHaHa.."

I love my brother more than I love life. And you can put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Maybe someday I'll have enough guts to actually post the other two paragraphs, unedited. To me, what's more ball-busting than revealing your inner troubles on public domain is answering countless irksome questions from well-meaning friends (no offense meant to anyone). You don't want to talk about it, but you're obliged to because afterall, it was your freaking 'bear-all' post that started it all. And there's only so many times you can regurgitate the same story before you get sick of hearing yourself again and again and again and again and again..

Therefore word to the wise, don't bug me about it. Let me bug you when the time is right.

----------

Right then. Happy belated 20th Sophie Poo. As a belated birthday treat let me reveal that I'm one of those obsessive people who visits your blog at least a couple of times when I'm online, which is almost daily. What can I say? You write awesomely (no, I'm not having a crack at you), both fiction-wise and blogpost-wise. Can't blame a girl for being hooked when you almost constantly 'speak da word gurrrlfriend!'. I thank my lucky stars, all two of them, that I'm on your 'approved' friend list. *sob* I wouldn't know how I would live if I wasn't privy to the contents of your locked journal (now, I'm almost certainly having a crack at you).

Many happy returns Sophia Foo Yong Tau Foo (What do you mean that's not your real name?!) You're just brilliant.

'And so between them both you see, they licked the platter clean.'

To my blurass friend, Christine;
Yesterday marks your twentieth year,
No longer are you a wee teen,
(HAHA) You're an old Ninny now, dear!

Soon you'll be really old, like eighty,
and die a wrinkly, stinky death;
But for now, don't fret or worry,
because you still have a firm asth.

Who knew I had a lisp? I meant ass.
---I apologize for the quality, or more specifically the lack of quality. I came up with this in between writing notes and fighting the urges of sleep during my Democracy lecture.

Happy 20th Birthday Christine-ninny. Just know that when I think of you I think of;

[---]
elegance,
[---]
charm,
[---]
maturity,
[---]
and Carlsberg.

Love ya lots (although my gut tells me you're probably not reciprocating that right about now).

Hpe you had a good one.

'Don't give a damn 'bout my reputation'

Yo no hablo espana, but like to think I understand it anyway. I suppose that sort of explains why I even bother frequenting websites in Spanish attempting to find trivia about Natalie Portman.

--- Two idiots just knocked on my door, I suppose, looking for their friend who lives in unit 5615. They greeted me with blank stares like I'm the one who's lost then proceeded to dare ask if this was said apartment. You'd think the gold plated '5415' on my door would be clue enough. I quote the splendous, wonderful, effulgent, Karen W. when I say, "I weep for the state of humanity if this the benchmark for all future generations to come". Hee.

Right then. So, Spanish. I'd like to think that my knowledge of the language is still at that 'D+' level it was before, but I have a sinking feeling that it has sunk to a brand-spankin' new 'F-'. I suspect that the only reason I half understand what's going on in the article is because I have only read about, oh just about 6,745 other webpages concerning Ms Portman in my entire lifetime. What can I say? I've been a fan for quite a while now. What's funny (to me, at least) is that I've seen almost every movie she's acted in to date except that movie, the one that first placed her as an upcoming starlet to watch, The Professional. I'll get my hands on the DVD if it's the last thing I do.

Awww. She's so gosh darn pretty.Proof that going to Harvard means jackshit: when you can't appreciate the beauty of Natalie Portman and instead go on about some actress whose last name rhymes with a bird that can't fly who lives in icy conditions (but is gosh darn cute too come to think of it). Too bad the praise doesn't extend to her. My loving tribute to Nick, who's off vacationing where the sun shines and heat sizzles. I'm angsty. Melbourne just got damn cold. And yeah yeah. You'll be having the last laugh when it comes to who's getting a nice, cushy executive position first.

And since we're on the subject of all things pretty, here's a picture of Ashton Holmes who was last seen on movie screens as Viggo Mortenson's kid in A History of Violence.

He's pwetty. Like Seth Cohen kinda pretty, except he's still watchable and not groan-inducing after five consecutive episodes. Technically, that last sentence doesn't make sense. But at least I got to string 'Seth Cohen', 'groan-inducing' and 'five consecutive episodes' together. Plus, Ashton just looks damn fine in that suit. Who cares if he's cheeks are rosier than mine, or if his hair is elegantly styled in that 'messy but rockin'' 'do which somehow translates to 'dirty homeless bag-lady' on me, or if his lips never need to know the icky-ness of lipstick to stay that red? Yeah, I'd go out with him. Ouch. Reality just bit back hard. I'm here, ya bastard.

Has anyone out there got a copy of Magnolia? I promise you instant karma if you loan it to me. Aimee Mann makes a killing on the soundtrack. And if the movie is as promising as the soundtrack, hell, sign me right up. If you know what's good for you, download Aimee Mann's Wise Up and Save Me. With lyrics that read like this,

"If you could save me,
from the ranks of the freaks,
that suspect they could never love anyone..."
Aimee Mann- Save Me

it's not everyday you come across a gem of songwriting like that.

The reason why I haven't scoured Limewire for a copy of the movie is because my current download list looks something like this:

I miss That 70's Show, circa Season One. All six of them were actually there. And the punchlines and gags were just better.

You know, I think yesterday marks the first April Fool's Day in my life where not one single prank was pulled, either me in the position of prankster or fool. It was like it was just some other day. Nobody at work recognized it and I infact completely forgot about it. It's a little sad to think about. I know when I was a kid, April 1st always seemed to hold a little crackle of energy in the air. Between raising your guard and being on constant lookout for the best opportunity to pull a prank, the day was spent in a haze of joyous laughter, sneaky collaborations that only lasted until the next prank, and intense debates defending your intelligence quotient. Now as adults, we instead celebrate random days, like St. Patrick's, which we all know is just a thinly veiled excuse for the average individual to nurture his or her inner alcoholic, while alcoholics everywhere rejoice and drink as they like without having to makeup lame excuses for yet another day spent in a foggy state of insobriety. And life is suppose to make more sense as we age? How so, I retort?

It ain't bad, this growing up thing. Your fears become more complex, as does your thought-processes and love-life. Most days I don't have a problem with it. Just seems like you can live forever in a permanent state of happiness and yet can't help but look back at days long past with a slight twinge and inkling for the simpler times. Just saying it's all.

Buffy Season 7 is awe-fucking-some.

Season seven of Buffy is just a culmination of some of the best damn writing in TV history. Well, it is. Taking a look at the writing credits, it is pretty damn obvious that they rolled out the big wigs for most of the episodes. Every third episode has two writers credited to it. And Jane Espenson, my second favourite writer on Buffy (after the God himself, Joss Whedon), is heavily involved in most of the episodes. To quote Logan in Veronica Mars, season one episode four, "I think Keanu Reeves said it best when he said 'Whooooaa'." If you have no idea who or what the quote is referring to then bad you! Did you not get your fill of lame '80s movies while growing up?

Last Sunday, I had made well-thought out plans to be comfortably seated on my couch (or as comfortable as one can get on this crap College Square calls 'couch') to catch the Commonwealth Games closing ceremony. Come 5 pm, I was asleep on the couch, my tired body finally relenting to the pleasures of rest, no thanks to a total of an hour's worth of sleep the night before. Many lifetimes later, my bleary eyes open and what do you know? It's twelve am. The next day I watch the spectacular fireworks on the news and read about it in the papers and listen to how you could infact see the fireworks from College Square from the Chairman. Gorram it..

I am suffering from Sammy withdrawals. I need my Snakes! Also, this week because everyone's busy, I'm probably going to go a week without my fill of Spaghetti too. Damn school and it interfering in our social lifes. I'll just compensate by watching more Buffy! How does that work? Hell if i know.

I heart Melb Uni

Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!

*hyperventilating*

Buffy Season 7. Out now in the ERC library. On 7 day loan. Fuckin' hell..

Good lord. Thy kingdom has indeed come!

The Empire Games 2006

Malaysians: guilty of being rabid supporters of the beloved national Badminton team.

Karen + AddieLee: guilty of being part of the gila-flag-waving-diehard-Malaysian-Boleh-WAHHHH!-'Eh, eh, we're on the screen' Malaysian mob at the badminton doubles preliminarites at the Games.


plus


equals


*I love that picture of Ad and I taken with her oh-so-fancy Samsung phone. Now that's what you call shit-eating grins.

Our fanatism paled in comparison to Ben, a first year student from Monash Clayton campus, who with his buddies truly displayed the 'Malaysian Boleh' spirit, if their energetic flag-waving (they had multiple flags. They came prepared.) is a yardstick to judge Malaysian enthusiasm by. I reckon it would have been almost embarassing had we not both been chiming in in the 'Malaysia Boleh' and 'Ole, ole' chants.

Ben quickly ran down to get Wong Choong Hann's autograph which we, sceptical lemmings, followed after glimsing his success in getting Wong-chai's attention. Choong Hann was really accomodating; signing autographs, taking pictures, talking to us admirers, long after he needed to. Unfortunately, even the Games players don't have tickets to the final. Here's hoping the organizers release more tickets soon.

Turns out the people sitting behind us were the mom and dad of one Scotland women's team player. After we had gone ape-shit over Malaysian's victory over India, they asked us to kindly lend our support to the Scottish team, which we did without needing much persuasion. There is really nothing funnier than a Malaysian attempting a "Come on, ya Scot-ish" accent in the company of real Scotswoman/man.

Stories of Seth Green

"Karen! Guess who I saw on the tram? I swear I saw Seth Green!"
"No, you didn't."
"Okay maybe I didn't. But there was this guy who looked so much like him!! Adorably dorky features (my words, not her blasphemous ones), red head. I swear it's him!"
"Did anyone else seem to notice him? Autographs or something?"
"Nooo.. But Karen, I swear it looked so much like him!"
"How tall was he Gill?"
"*puts hand an inch or two above her head* About that tall"
"..."
Conclusion: I have never been more grateful for vertically-challenged people. I also have new appreciation for my sister's penchant for wearing 8-inch platforms.

And now, how's this for 'Good Lord, Thy Kingdom Has Come!' shades of awesomeness?

Ahhhh. Perfection.

And now, in response to Michelle's blog-tag:

Current time:
8.41 pm

What are you wearing?
Paper bags and an aluminium hat like the one in Signs. What can I say? I'm excited because Channel Seven is screening Signs this Saturday at 7.30 or so. Again. Did I say again? I meant again.

Name something out of the ordinary on my desk:
I use a laptop. Hence, it's currently sitting on my lap. No, seriously. But then I suppose the question doesn't concern what kind of computer I use. Ermmm. Plastic beer cups. Free souvenirs from Costa Rica.

Current favourite song(s):
That stupid Mario theme has been doing a number on my braincells for a day or two now. Also, DCFC's '405'. And Modest Mouse's 'Gravity rides everything'. Damn. Those songs work to nullify all your musical freewill, so much so that they'll be constantly replaying in your head long after you've taken your headphones off.

Last thing consumed:
It's been two days since I last ate anything. I'm trying out this new diet called 'The Nicole Ritchie'. Hee. Or is that the 'consume lots for 3 minutes only for it to ultimately land in the ceramic of the toilet bowl' diet?

Last phone call received:
The last person who called had to suffer excruciatingly through my grunting. But then again, it was 7 am in the morning.. Nonetheless, I am pleased to say that I have received no other phone calls since then.

Current annoyance:
The dishes are piling up, the shower stall has some yellow muck growing on it, and the toilet bin has to be changed. I'll be damned if I'm the one to do it all. I would also ask you to come in and put your toiletries on my toilet counter but good luck finding a spot beneath the dust balls, cotton fibres and hair.

Plans for the day:
To win the psychological war that's waging between my sister and I. I think that when it comes down to it, the person who walks away victor and cleaning duty-free is the one who's ready to get down and dirty. My gameplan: to hide 3 spoons and one bowl. Everything ends once the other needs a clean spoon and bowl for cereal. Hey, all's fair in avoiding clean-up.

Sadly I don't have any friends to tag. Maybe it's the grunting. Or the funky smell emanating from my apartment. Who knows?

Match Point

Some things just never change.

Three years ago when I was in Form 5 in Malaysia, what would I normally be doing at one thirty in the morning? Well. Who'd have thunk it? The exact damn thing I'm doing three years later in my second year of uni in Melbourne!

David Letterman... My nights just wouldn't be the same without David making a dig at Oprah, Paul playing the role of the perfect musically-inclined sidekick and Biff going on highly amusing excursions that reflect the strange land of America.

Today's mini-segment: 'Stupid human tricks'.

Ahhh. Nights don't get any better than this.

A clergyman just drank some beer while doing a handstand.

Heh. His face went a startling colour of on-the-verge-of-a-cardiac-arrest.

A random dude just hopped around on one stilt.

WTF. That's just Dumb. That's dumb, with a capital D.

Some girl "is going to make music with her toes". Direct quote, I swear. She's whistling through her toes.

WTFF? That's flying ..., in case you were wondering.

X3- an utter disappointment?

What gives? Where the bleeping hell is Gambit?

If they could successfully cast Jean Gray, Professor Xavier, Magneto, Wolverine (note the specific exception of Rogue. And Storm.) then where did they slip up when it came to Gambit? If they could even find some random dude (canny resemblance admittedly) to fill Christopher Reeve's shoes and play the titular character of Superman then the matter of casting shouldn't technically be a problem?

Plus, Brett Ratner behind the director's chair? No offense to him (Rush Hour 1 &2 were amusing but no directing spectacle) but I was really looking forward to see what Matthew Vaughn would come up with. After Layer Cake, which by the way has the most awesome 'whoa' opening sequence, I personally thought Matthew Vaughn really had something going on. Think visuals that have just the right amount of slickness. Oh well.

I give up. Yeah yeah. I'll still contribute to X3's total gross.

-End rant.

In one of my politics class, the lecturer screened a Republican-created video about President George W. Bush. It chronicled his rise to presidency. In one scene, the narrator mentioned something pertaining to George Bush and his wit. Naturally, the lecture theatre burst out in laughter.

I mean. This from the guy who said 'I believe that human and fish can co-exist together'. Or something along the lines, operative words being human, fish and the high possibility of co-existence. You can't really help it, you know?

Some pictures to make my post seem longer:

Ad's first day dealing with 'The Man' at Monash.















Does this not give a reason to my absolutely valid fear of pigeons?

Note the lengths companies will go to to prevent legal ramifications. They care, *Sob*, they really do care!

*Insert title here*

-----------------> 'Inmates' by The Good Life.
Possibly the best nine minute plus song out there together with Iron & Wine's 'The Trapeze Swinger'. If you're going to start hollering about Green Day's 'Jesus of Suburbia', give me a second to explain. This is my blog and what I say goes. HA! Also, 'JoS' uses five different chord arrangements. Which I suppose could be considered a marvel in it's own right, but I'm talking about songs that use one running tune throughout the whole nine minutes. In this age where people's attention span last about as long as, OI! CAN YOU PLEASE HAVE THE DECENCY TO FINISH READING THIS PARAGRAPH? (Ooo.. Shiny eBay pop-up! Hello material possessions!) Ermm.. right. And that's why songs like 'Inmates' and 'The Trapeze Swinger' stand out all the more for their ability to keep the listener hooked for the duration of the song.

And if that's not the kind of music that's up your alley, then check out Arctic Monkeys. I don't know what it's like anywhere else, but the Melbourne music scene has been buzzing about these band lately. And with damn good reason too. 'I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor', their first single promises a rollicking almost-3-minute tune that bucks the current crop of electro-synthesized pop propogated by Kaiser Chiefs, The Killers, or any other recent UK band. Thank god! Bring in the drums, the accent and you can't help but be swaggering to the in-your-face debut single Arctic Monkey. If that's not enough, check out 'Fake Tales of San Francisco'. Hot damn! Say hello to the new face of the U.K. pop/rock scene.

There's a new club in Melbourne Uni this year. The Joss Whedon Appreciation Club. Heh. Needless to say you are reading the blog of a newly appointed member of said club.

I am currently saving up to get Dead Like Me Season 1 DVD. You should be doing that too.

After reading a whole assortment of blogs, I've come to realize that I lack a few skills needed to be skilled (duhhhhh) at maintaining an entertaining blog.

#1. I do not write candidly about my life. Self-censorship, dudes.
#2. I cannot make a mundane event seem fun and completely ass-kicking, either through wit or excessive photo-shopped pictures, because well, mundanity is as mundanity does.
#3. I cannot write a post that seem ambiguous and random but is obviously an angst-filled piece about the bastard of the day, mainly because angsty child I am not.
#4. I lead an uneventful life. No alcohol-fuelled nights at clubs with disastrous consequences to blog about, no guy I fancy to gush about, no stories about quirky MSN conversations (partly due to my intense dislike for all things MSN-related) and la-di-da. You get the picture.
#5. I do not have 153,567,345 contacts, which are essential for being players in a highly amusing blog post.

Together with Sammy, I have an audition this Tuesday for a student production. What sets this apart from previous auditions is this is for a musical. A musical. Huh.

(Me thinks I need to re-think the "Sureeeee. Why not?" attitude I practice in life.)

Now, while dear ol' musically-inclined Sam (Yes Sam) is going to rock the audition, yours truly who's previous audience has comprised of the four walls that make up the bathroom is gulping down air frantically in attempts to quelch the nervousness that has taken up permanent residency in her stomach.

Huh indeed.