Saturday 30 November 2013
28 days later was better. Film makers are rubbish
Why is film so bad?
Back in the day film was considered the pinnacle of production. When I was a kid I grew up wanting to be a film actor. Not because of the fame, celebrity or money. Maybe the hookers. No, not even the hookers.
I wanted to act in the Hollywood movies because they were awesome. Examples? I will choose carefully.
When I grew up in the 80's?
Top Gun (don't care what anyone says it is a great film)
The Breakfast Club
Carlitos Way (The same as, but better than, Scarface)
When I started liking film in the 90's?
Lock, stock etc. (Guy Ritchie critics are idiots. Remember this film? He was the new Tarantino)
Jackie Brown (my favourite Tarantino film)
Se7en
Fight Club (Obviously. Anyone who disagrees hasn't seen it. It is cleverer than you think).
Anyhoo, films are bad now. I am blessed with the ability to use two laptops at once. So, I am watching World War Z at the same time as posting this.
World War Z seems to be a massive Zombie based reach-around fest. It has themes running through it. I get the whole helicopter thing. But you can sleep through an hour of it without missing anything. The appearance of Doctor Who is great, though
Film is not the reason for this post. It is the awesome-ness of tv. What would you rather watch? An entire season of Homeland or a film on the same subject.
The beauty of tv is that it has realised that we are all GEEKS at heart. Nothing wrong with that. A plus point, in my opinion. But we need to know. We are questioning creatures and so understanding the world around us is vital. TV has fulfilled this in a way that film necessarily can't or won't.
I wasn't annoyed until I saw the latest "Oscar contenders". The Butler and Saving Mr Banks. Is someone joking? I am not laughing (although I am. At them). These films might be brilliant but you know before you go in that they will go further than a reach-around - further than I am prepared to describe here.
As ever, I want to undermine everything I've said here. I now need to go see them. The only reason that I'm slating them is assumption.
Somehow, this World War Z is still on. This is now a less good version of I Am Legend. Actually, shot for shot, in some places.
Maybe Brad Pitt finally screwed up.
</end rant>
Back in the day film was considered the pinnacle of production. When I was a kid I grew up wanting to be a film actor. Not because of the fame, celebrity or money. Maybe the hookers. No, not even the hookers.
I wanted to act in the Hollywood movies because they were awesome. Examples? I will choose carefully.
When I grew up in the 80's?
Top Gun (don't care what anyone says it is a great film)
The Breakfast Club
Carlitos Way (The same as, but better than, Scarface)
When I started liking film in the 90's?
Lock, stock etc. (Guy Ritchie critics are idiots. Remember this film? He was the new Tarantino)
Jackie Brown (my favourite Tarantino film)
Se7en
Fight Club (Obviously. Anyone who disagrees hasn't seen it. It is cleverer than you think).
Anyhoo, films are bad now. I am blessed with the ability to use two laptops at once. So, I am watching World War Z at the same time as posting this.
World War Z seems to be a massive Zombie based reach-around fest. It has themes running through it. I get the whole helicopter thing. But you can sleep through an hour of it without missing anything. The appearance of Doctor Who is great, though
Film is not the reason for this post. It is the awesome-ness of tv. What would you rather watch? An entire season of Homeland or a film on the same subject.
The beauty of tv is that it has realised that we are all GEEKS at heart. Nothing wrong with that. A plus point, in my opinion. But we need to know. We are questioning creatures and so understanding the world around us is vital. TV has fulfilled this in a way that film necessarily can't or won't.
I wasn't annoyed until I saw the latest "Oscar contenders". The Butler and Saving Mr Banks. Is someone joking? I am not laughing (although I am. At them). These films might be brilliant but you know before you go in that they will go further than a reach-around - further than I am prepared to describe here.
As ever, I want to undermine everything I've said here. I now need to go see them. The only reason that I'm slating them is assumption.
Somehow, this World War Z is still on. This is now a less good version of I Am Legend. Actually, shot for shot, in some places.
Maybe Brad Pitt finally screwed up.
</end rant>
Friday 29 November 2013
Random nonsense
Funniest names?
In baseball - Albert Pujoles (pronounced Poo-holes)
In World Leadership - Vladimir Putin (pronounced, according to George Dubya, Poo-tin)
In Football - Danny Shittu. Yes. I am a child. (Stephan Kuntz was a close second)
I now understand how I deal with stress. Not well. No sleep, self hatred and actual nosebleeds are not great. In very recent days I have ridiculously put myself through the process of applying for a new job. The way it happened before is still very raw. It is a situation that I wish I could sweep under the carpet.
However. I stepped up again. Another role came up and I thought I was okay for it. I reviewed my previous posts and would like to think that I had learnded something. The process is largely irrelevant. You go in, do your stuff, go out. Accurate summation of my sex life. I gave some good answers, some bad, and, once again, an absolutely shocking presentation. It doesn't matter.
For the next 36 hours I felt as I felt after the last interview. A feeling of limbo mixed with personal loathing. It can be a potent mix. I was left hanging until the last minute on Friday before I was given closure. Whether intentionally or not, people can be sadistic arseholes (technically my first swear in this blog. Appropriate and necessary). I don't know why I put myself through it again. I thought I needed therapy after the last ordeal.
Anyhoo, I got it. I am now officially a Specialist. I am awesome.
Will someone please tell my bowels that the stress is over?
In unrelated news, stress incontinence is a fantastic weight loss method. Not recommended.
In baseball - Albert Pujoles (pronounced Poo-holes)
In World Leadership - Vladimir Putin (pronounced, according to George Dubya, Poo-tin)
In Football - Danny Shittu. Yes. I am a child. (Stephan Kuntz was a close second)
I now understand how I deal with stress. Not well. No sleep, self hatred and actual nosebleeds are not great. In very recent days I have ridiculously put myself through the process of applying for a new job. The way it happened before is still very raw. It is a situation that I wish I could sweep under the carpet.
However. I stepped up again. Another role came up and I thought I was okay for it. I reviewed my previous posts and would like to think that I had learnded something. The process is largely irrelevant. You go in, do your stuff, go out. Accurate summation of my sex life. I gave some good answers, some bad, and, once again, an absolutely shocking presentation. It doesn't matter.
For the next 36 hours I felt as I felt after the last interview. A feeling of limbo mixed with personal loathing. It can be a potent mix. I was left hanging until the last minute on Friday before I was given closure. Whether intentionally or not, people can be sadistic arseholes (technically my first swear in this blog. Appropriate and necessary). I don't know why I put myself through it again. I thought I needed therapy after the last ordeal.
Anyhoo, I got it. I am now officially a Specialist. I am awesome.
Will someone please tell my bowels that the stress is over?
In unrelated news, stress incontinence is a fantastic weight loss method. Not recommended.
Wednesday 27 November 2013
Personal Growth Is Alive and Well
Strange things are afoot at Gilbert Towers. I have a houseguest. No, not him. My bro is taking a sojourn from the distant isles of one street over as he is having some problems with his missus. It is certainly not for me to cast any aspersions but, apparently, they do be crazy.
I've had this "palatial" manor for a while now and this is the first official encroachment. I'm still not sure how it does or should work when the kin makes an assault. All is well thus far, though.
It has brought an unattractive side out of me that only comes out of me when I am with, well, other people.
My "palatial" manor has been a true haven. A veritable fart-fest mixed with inappropriate nudity, peppered with more inappropriate un-nudity (looking shocking whilst donning full comfy gear and piling dressing gown and duvet on top).
I never realised, however, that, as soon as anyone is looking, I want to appear, well, above my station.Own brand Weetabix suddenly becomes actual Weetabix. Real ham becomes fake ham. The Daily Mail.becomes actual toilet paper...
This is not me.
Watch this space for Odd Couple references and tales of how my frugality overtook my snobbishness.
And in one episode, there will be a mix up with a blender.
I've had this "palatial" manor for a while now and this is the first official encroachment. I'm still not sure how it does or should work when the kin makes an assault. All is well thus far, though.
It has brought an unattractive side out of me that only comes out of me when I am with, well, other people.
My "palatial" manor has been a true haven. A veritable fart-fest mixed with inappropriate nudity, peppered with more inappropriate un-nudity (looking shocking whilst donning full comfy gear and piling dressing gown and duvet on top).
I never realised, however, that, as soon as anyone is looking, I want to appear, well, above my station.Own brand Weetabix suddenly becomes actual Weetabix. Real ham becomes fake ham. The Daily Mail.becomes actual toilet paper...
This is not me.
Watch this space for Odd Couple references and tales of how my frugality overtook my snobbishness.
And in one episode, there will be a mix up with a blender.
Tuesday 5 November 2013
Can't Touch This. Doo Do Do Do. Doo, Do.
As I walked to work yesterday morning I had a very happy relisation. The weight loss I have achieved has turned previously normal-looking trousers in MC Hammer-stylee Parachute Pants.
I was so taken by this I felt the urge to do the "Chinese Typewriter" all the way to work (Left leg over right leg then reverse; left leg forward, right leg back and reverse - distant memory of doing it in a bad club badly when I was 18. Very drunk). I was already almost late, though, so I ended up walking. Dance's loss is software's gain, I suppose.
Although I will always maintain that I never intended to lose weight, it was, however, necessary and inevitable and I am loving it. I feel better, more ready-for-anything and I no longer hear the teens laughing at me. But that might be because my headphones are louder.
My joy turned to fear when I watched Greg Wallace on Pro Masterchef last night. I have a huge amount of respect for Wallace. Boy done good. He has lost weight and has fronted Weight Watchers. He has also perfected the paedosmile. Check out the adverts and Buttery Biscuit Base on Youtube.
But Greg is, hmmm, of an age where weight loss has its downsides. Loose skin, gauntness etc. I know there is a certain point in your life where you can no longer 'bounce' back from being a big fat fatty and Greg is on the cusp. I worry where I (and my body) am. My belly is a private shame. Although one that will never been seen outside of a small resort in Nantes. STOP.
Hammertime.
I was so taken by this I felt the urge to do the "Chinese Typewriter" all the way to work (Left leg over right leg then reverse; left leg forward, right leg back and reverse - distant memory of doing it in a bad club badly when I was 18. Very drunk). I was already almost late, though, so I ended up walking. Dance's loss is software's gain, I suppose.
Although I will always maintain that I never intended to lose weight, it was, however, necessary and inevitable and I am loving it. I feel better, more ready-for-anything and I no longer hear the teens laughing at me. But that might be because my headphones are louder.
My joy turned to fear when I watched Greg Wallace on Pro Masterchef last night. I have a huge amount of respect for Wallace. Boy done good. He has lost weight and has fronted Weight Watchers. He has also perfected the paedosmile. Check out the adverts and Buttery Biscuit Base on Youtube.
But Greg is, hmmm, of an age where weight loss has its downsides. Loose skin, gauntness etc. I know there is a certain point in your life where you can no longer 'bounce' back from being a big fat fatty and Greg is on the cusp. I worry where I (and my body) am. My belly is a private shame. Although one that will never been seen outside of a small resort in Nantes. STOP.
Hammertime.
Monday 4 November 2013
Small things
Little pleasures from the last few days:
- · Accidentally typing Testes instead of Tests (often occurrence in my line of work)
- · Shouting out loud "NAILED IT!" to getting an answer in Only Connect
- · Eating Danish sweets called Sp**k. And seeing that the Liquorice version also says Saltlakrids. Danish is funny.
- · Helping that woman across the road. The internal laughter was deafening
- · Shouting out even louder "NAILED IT!" to getting a second answer in Only Connect
- · Feeling like a proper man by buying a screwdriver. Grrrrr.
- · Realising that I could feel like a proper man more often. Screwdrivers are cheap and easily available
- · Annihilating both teams on the missing words round on Only Connect as I always do. NAILED IT!
Political Satire 101
Potato / Potahto
I sustained an extremely painful injury on Friday evening. It wasn't running or Friday night 5-a-side related. No. I burnt the roof of my mouth. On a potato. True story.
It's one of those things that you don't feel at the time but once the pain hits you properly you realise exactly what happened and the nightmare in store. Just like voting <insert political party>! Am I right? Am I right?
As the rest of my body cannot get any proper satisfaction when I eat I feel like food is just going in one end and coming out of the other. Just like <insert political party> who has spent all our money on <insert ridiculous idea / misguided cause / political corpulence proof>. Hiyoooo!
The most painful thing is that, because it is on the inside of my mouth, I cannot stop playing with it with my tongue. Just like <insert disgraced/allegedly disgraced political leader and their secretary>. Booya!
It really hurts.
I sustained an extremely painful injury on Friday evening. It wasn't running or Friday night 5-a-side related. No. I burnt the roof of my mouth. On a potato. True story.
It's one of those things that you don't feel at the time but once the pain hits you properly you realise exactly what happened and the nightmare in store. Just like voting <insert political party>! Am I right? Am I right?
As the rest of my body cannot get any proper satisfaction when I eat I feel like food is just going in one end and coming out of the other. Just like <insert political party> who has spent all our money on <insert ridiculous idea / misguided cause / political corpulence proof>. Hiyoooo!
The most painful thing is that, because it is on the inside of my mouth, I cannot stop playing with it with my tongue. Just like <insert disgraced/allegedly disgraced political leader and their secretary>. Booya!
It really hurts.
Sunday 3 November 2013
Colin. Colin. Colin. Colin. Colin. Colin. Colin. Colin.
The battle for the regular host spot on Fighting Talk heated up this week with heavyweight Jonathon Pearce (media stature, not physical appearance. Although also physical appearance) putting in another great shift.
Handsome welsh chap Matt Johnson has definitely put forth a very good case for himself. I was genuinely surprised. The draw of the youth audience may swing it in his favour. He is knowledgeable and witty. Handsomeness is less of a qualification on radio
Pearce, however, is pure class. Genuine wit, personal reference (and reverence) and a true love for sport (well, at least footer). He also has the necessary swagger (finally) to splice his guests in twain with a cutting remark (he constantly went on about Eni Aluko's shocking end of the season among other things).
A few points of note:
I say "never go back" but if the big CM walked back into my life today I would happily accept him.
It hurts me that Colin knows this.
Handsome welsh chap Matt Johnson has definitely put forth a very good case for himself. I was genuinely surprised. The draw of the youth audience may swing it in his favour. He is knowledgeable and witty. Handsomeness is less of a qualification on radio
Pearce, however, is pure class. Genuine wit, personal reference (and reverence) and a true love for sport (well, at least footer). He also has the necessary swagger (finally) to splice his guests in twain with a cutting remark (he constantly went on about Eni Aluko's shocking end of the season among other things).
A few points of note:
- Eni Aluko's debut - excellent start. Proper sporting experience, confidence in front of the mic and she's studying Law. And I definitely would.
- Martin Kelner's return - I noted him before and he has been in hospital with awful things. His blog can be found here and is completely the inspiration for my own (I am nowhere near). Kelner is now out of hospital and back on the radio. He is smaller but the wit is cannot be beaten
- Greg James - he seems to have been ovelooked during this FT season. He did a single appearence last season. I really liked it. Maybe he doesn't want it. I hope he hasn't been overlooked.
- Christian O'Connell - No. Never go back. Like any job. Or a girlfriend. Or some questionable cheese.
I say "never go back" but if the big CM walked back into my life today I would happily accept him.
It hurts me that Colin knows this.
Yes. They be crazy
I think I've satisfied my quota of care in the community for the next week.
Realising that I'd spent a large part of the day on safari (youtube safari - that, disturbingly, took me from Tubes to LFC TV to Edgar Davids swearing to serial killers) I decided that I needed to go out for a token constitutional.
9pm is primetime for supermarket bargains so I set out for Tesco and got as far as the end of the road when I saw her.
There was a lady and a man. The man was standing next to the lady. The lady was crawling on the floor on her hands and knees. Now, the way they were configured I assumed she was searching for something. OK, not so much assumed, more hoped. Maybe, with my earphones in, I could walk past unnoticed and unnoticing.
Today my luck was out. I heard the two words that all Brits dread. "Excuse me...". Anonymity is a valuable commodity to many of us.
Anyhoo, the lady HAD been drinking. I assume she was in her early 20's (she looked 60 but had clearly been drinking for a long time) and could not even stand without help from two people. The initial excuse (before I had worked out how pickled she was) was that she had a wooden hip. Now, initially I thought this could be true, but a subsequent google search has returned squat.
And I mean diddly.
Along with her (what turned out to be) ex-husband, I helped her across the road to the sheltered accommodation where she resides (and possibly should be sectioned).
The situation asks bigger questions. The nearest pub is about a mile away. I needed to help her over the last 20 metres. How did she get from the bar to the point I saw her? Did she start drinking when Wetherspoons opens (early), keep drinking until midday, then spend the next 9 hours crawling home like a politician back to his wife?
Maybe I should call her.
In unrelated news, I'm back on the waggon for a while.
Realising that I'd spent a large part of the day on safari (youtube safari - that, disturbingly, took me from Tubes to LFC TV to Edgar Davids swearing to serial killers) I decided that I needed to go out for a token constitutional.
9pm is primetime for supermarket bargains so I set out for Tesco and got as far as the end of the road when I saw her.
There was a lady and a man. The man was standing next to the lady. The lady was crawling on the floor on her hands and knees. Now, the way they were configured I assumed she was searching for something. OK, not so much assumed, more hoped. Maybe, with my earphones in, I could walk past unnoticed and unnoticing.
Today my luck was out. I heard the two words that all Brits dread. "Excuse me...". Anonymity is a valuable commodity to many of us.
Anyhoo, the lady HAD been drinking. I assume she was in her early 20's (she looked 60 but had clearly been drinking for a long time) and could not even stand without help from two people. The initial excuse (before I had worked out how pickled she was) was that she had a wooden hip. Now, initially I thought this could be true, but a subsequent google search has returned squat.
And I mean diddly.
Along with her (what turned out to be) ex-husband, I helped her across the road to the sheltered accommodation where she resides (and possibly should be sectioned).
The situation asks bigger questions. The nearest pub is about a mile away. I needed to help her over the last 20 metres. How did she get from the bar to the point I saw her? Did she start drinking when Wetherspoons opens (early), keep drinking until midday, then spend the next 9 hours crawling home like a politician back to his wife?
Maybe I should call her.
In unrelated news, I'm back on the waggon for a while.
Saturday 2 November 2013
If you start one habit a month then in three years you'll have 36 new habits
Part of the reason I started running was that I wanted to change my habits. Over the years I'd got into many, many bad habits (toilet seat doesn't count - down isn't the default position).
My two half marathons have kind of flattered to deceive. Yes, I am phenomenally proud of them. I've gone from 17 stone to 13.1 miles and, when I look back, I still can't believe it. I can also now run throughout an hours' 5-a-side and still have enough energy and breath to jog 2 miles home.
But my fitness base feels entirely superficial. My training was erratic, I still only have one gear (two, at best) and the necessary downtime needed after an event or 5-a-side just doesn't seem right.
I've decided that the Longleat half might be my last half - I want to put in some proper training to get a proper sub-2hr time - and whether its Longleat or not, it means by the time I'll be ready it is pretty much the start of the running season (March). Then I might take the step up.
I have my 19 week plan. It starts small and grows and I've designed it to put down the base I need. It includes plenty of cross training (bike and workout dvd) and also has weights. I want to run every day and feel this is achievable (nomeatathlete). I'm starting with 10 minutes and taking it from there.
Habit 1 is November's habit.
Back on track.
My two half marathons have kind of flattered to deceive. Yes, I am phenomenally proud of them. I've gone from 17 stone to 13.1 miles and, when I look back, I still can't believe it. I can also now run throughout an hours' 5-a-side and still have enough energy and breath to jog 2 miles home.
But my fitness base feels entirely superficial. My training was erratic, I still only have one gear (two, at best) and the necessary downtime needed after an event or 5-a-side just doesn't seem right.
I've decided that the Longleat half might be my last half - I want to put in some proper training to get a proper sub-2hr time - and whether its Longleat or not, it means by the time I'll be ready it is pretty much the start of the running season (March). Then I might take the step up.
I have my 19 week plan. It starts small and grows and I've designed it to put down the base I need. It includes plenty of cross training (bike and workout dvd) and also has weights. I want to run every day and feel this is achievable (nomeatathlete). I'm starting with 10 minutes and taking it from there.
Habit 1 is November's habit.
Back on track.
Friday 1 November 2013
I love you all
I love my blog. It has become misguided at certain points but will return to what it should be - a public diary. Some stuff might happen to be funny, some not. I just go in with an idea and it just becomes what it is.
I need to stop caring what you think. I have enough problems.
I love you all
I need to stop caring what you think. I have enough problems.
I love you all
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