Saturday, January 29, 2005
It annoys me that they cannot spell, but I do believe that a little subversion is good. Therefore; hooray Razzies and welcome back.
It strikes me that I've only seen three (3!) of the movies nominated (in the 'ordinary' category) which leads me to believe that I have impeccable taste. Or maybe I just don't see enough movies these days.
Other than that - life is getting in the way of blogging. On a positive note - I've just booked my friggin' honeymoon! (Who would've thought that I, of all people, would ever write that?!)
It strikes me that I've only seen three (3!) of the movies nominated (in the 'ordinary' category) which leads me to believe that I have impeccable taste. Or maybe I just don't see enough movies these days.
Other than that - life is getting in the way of blogging. On a positive note - I've just booked my friggin' honeymoon! (Who would've thought that I, of all people, would ever write that?!)
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Oscar noms are in:
I predict a song and dance opening number with Chris Rock arriving on a plane singing the chorus from Learn to be Lonely. After a mock crash landing he will search for Neverland, which seems to be neither in Jack Nicholson's grin nor Kate Winslet's cleavage. Rock foregoes his quest and start looking for wine instead, allthewhile a chorus of 500 hundred gospel singers hum Look to Your Path. On his way he meets a female boxer who kicks his ass but Rock, smitten, sings bits of Accidentally in Love. Finally he morphs into Ray, singing Believe and the entire segment finishes with an instrumental version of Al Otro Lado Del Rio, which, since it is in Spanish, no one can understand the words of anyway.
I actually really like Chris Rock and hope that he can make the thing take off just ever so slightly.
-- Posted something long and celebratory about Anton Corbijn yesterday which Blogger, true to nature, got rid of immediately. Suffice it to say that I am extremely fond of Corbijn whose work is almost cheesy, existing just on the right side of cliche. Watch:
Depeche Mode's Barrel of a Gun .
Depeche Mode's Enjoy the Silence .
David Bowie as Jesus.
Tom Waits (always).
Even the lump of (dare I say) crap that is U2's Electrical Storm is given a lovely treatment, video-wise.
Anton Corbijn. The mood-aligner.
I predict a song and dance opening number with Chris Rock arriving on a plane singing the chorus from Learn to be Lonely. After a mock crash landing he will search for Neverland, which seems to be neither in Jack Nicholson's grin nor Kate Winslet's cleavage. Rock foregoes his quest and start looking for wine instead, allthewhile a chorus of 500 hundred gospel singers hum Look to Your Path. On his way he meets a female boxer who kicks his ass but Rock, smitten, sings bits of Accidentally in Love. Finally he morphs into Ray, singing Believe and the entire segment finishes with an instrumental version of Al Otro Lado Del Rio, which, since it is in Spanish, no one can understand the words of anyway.
I actually really like Chris Rock and hope that he can make the thing take off just ever so slightly.
-- Posted something long and celebratory about Anton Corbijn yesterday which Blogger, true to nature, got rid of immediately. Suffice it to say that I am extremely fond of Corbijn whose work is almost cheesy, existing just on the right side of cliche. Watch:
Depeche Mode's Barrel of a Gun .
Depeche Mode's Enjoy the Silence .
David Bowie as Jesus.
Tom Waits (always).
Even the lump of (dare I say) crap that is U2's Electrical Storm is given a lovely treatment, video-wise.
Anton Corbijn. The mood-aligner.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
On the day before the presidential inauguration, Arnie finally got to kill someone for real.
Isn't that wonderful? The American Dream personified. Not only is he allowed - legally - he is also allowed to watch, if he wants to, or not, if reality is too much for him. God's left hand man, just west of His right hand man, who was sworn in today. This reminds me that last night I was watching a film - which shall as of yet remain unnamed (for legal reasons)- full of actors getting too wrapped up in politics for their own good.
- If only Arnie's songs were this good -
Will he one day become president? You betcha!
The Danish elections are so far looking bleak which depresses me no end. Come to think of it, I won't talk about it.
*Bows head in shame*
Isn't that wonderful? The American Dream personified. Not only is he allowed - legally - he is also allowed to watch, if he wants to, or not, if reality is too much for him. God's left hand man, just west of His right hand man, who was sworn in today. This reminds me that last night I was watching a film - which shall as of yet remain unnamed (for legal reasons)- full of actors getting too wrapped up in politics for their own good.
- If only Arnie's songs were this good -
Will he one day become president? You betcha!
The Danish elections are so far looking bleak which depresses me no end. Come to think of it, I won't talk about it.
*Bows head in shame*
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
I just wrote a long post about John McCririck eating his own bogeys on Channel 4.
And then Blogger ate it.
There was also something about buying a house in Denmark, which we are not (presently), but we are looking at prizes and sizes and that sort of thing.
It is expensive, is what it is. And if it's not expensive it's in an area that I'm not sure about (goddam you Copenhagen suburbs!) or utter, utter crap.
Which brought me to John McCririck.
Blogger also ate my predictions for John's future, something involving advertising for a diet cola-based soft drink, book deals, good advice (drink milk!) and weird hand gestures on the race track.
Never mind.
I'm thinking of getting rid of Blogger.
And then Blogger ate it.
There was also something about buying a house in Denmark, which we are not (presently), but we are looking at prizes and sizes and that sort of thing.
It is expensive, is what it is. And if it's not expensive it's in an area that I'm not sure about (goddam you Copenhagen suburbs!) or utter, utter crap.
Which brought me to John McCririck.
Blogger also ate my predictions for John's future, something involving advertising for a diet cola-based soft drink, book deals, good advice (drink milk!) and weird hand gestures on the race track.
Never mind.
I'm thinking of getting rid of Blogger.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
So I've got this new job, right? And it pays better and the responsibility is greater which in turns mean that it is super for my CV.
It means that I get to go to meetings and carry around a leather bound diary and a plethora of pens and people actually ring my direct line and when they do they know my name.
It means that I get to meet heaps of new people almost every day and most of them are nice and I shake hands and smile 'till my cheeks hurt although mostly that slippery smile that doesn't reveal teeth which is meant to say: 'you seem like a nice person and I enjoy your company albeit in a professional manner' but actually says: 'I didn't really hear what you said but I'll assume that you were friendly now when can I get away from here?'
The problem here is two-fold.
Firstly, I am no conversationalist. I tend to freeze up whenever faced with an unavoidable social situation, especially when stuck in a room with people with whom I don't have much in common, having to be nice. Nothing more and nothing less, just nice. Witty, of course, would be good, but I'm not really required to be witty as this trait is usually attributed to someone perceivably in a better paid/more creative/scientific/whatever job than mine. My professional world is still a man's world.
Secondly, I'm fairly anti-social. I'm quite happy to play in my own little puddle without the other kids splashing mud on my clothes. I like just getting on with things, instead of having to wine and dine and swing my hair.
These traits or whatever they are can surely be referred back to
arrogance
insecurity
the fact that I'm an only child and used to play by myself
or
it may just be that this is how my personality presents itself and, here it comes -
I'm in the wrong business.
2005 will hopefully be a year of change and discovery, I might let out the kaballah-observing hippie from within, or the chavvy cleaner or even the princess on the pea.
(Incidentially, don't forget to observe the Hans Christian Andersen bicentenary this year. There's loads of events on, mostly in Denmark of course, but one should (and will) definitely check out the exhibition at British Library from 20th May 2005. Or adopt something Andersen! Just don't forget about him, who wrote stories full of beauty and pain and utter, bloody misery.)
It means that I get to go to meetings and carry around a leather bound diary and a plethora of pens and people actually ring my direct line and when they do they know my name.
It means that I get to meet heaps of new people almost every day and most of them are nice and I shake hands and smile 'till my cheeks hurt although mostly that slippery smile that doesn't reveal teeth which is meant to say: 'you seem like a nice person and I enjoy your company albeit in a professional manner' but actually says: 'I didn't really hear what you said but I'll assume that you were friendly now when can I get away from here?'
The problem here is two-fold.
Firstly, I am no conversationalist. I tend to freeze up whenever faced with an unavoidable social situation, especially when stuck in a room with people with whom I don't have much in common, having to be nice. Nothing more and nothing less, just nice. Witty, of course, would be good, but I'm not really required to be witty as this trait is usually attributed to someone perceivably in a better paid/more creative/scientific/whatever job than mine. My professional world is still a man's world.
Secondly, I'm fairly anti-social. I'm quite happy to play in my own little puddle without the other kids splashing mud on my clothes. I like just getting on with things, instead of having to wine and dine and swing my hair.
These traits or whatever they are can surely be referred back to
arrogance
insecurity
the fact that I'm an only child and used to play by myself
or
it may just be that this is how my personality presents itself and, here it comes -
I'm in the wrong business.
2005 will hopefully be a year of change and discovery, I might let out the kaballah-observing hippie from within, or the chavvy cleaner or even the princess on the pea.
(Incidentially, don't forget to observe the Hans Christian Andersen bicentenary this year. There's loads of events on, mostly in Denmark of course, but one should (and will) definitely check out the exhibition at British Library from 20th May 2005. Or adopt something Andersen! Just don't forget about him, who wrote stories full of beauty and pain and utter, bloody misery.)
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Ah, Germaine. Thou of utter brilliance and stubbornness and a bit of madness! Germaine, whom I love and hate in equal parts, has signed up for Celebrity Big Brother. One is tempted to ask why, as surely someone this opinionated and highly valued would neither do it for money nor fame (she's a professor, for God's sake!).
Joining her in the Big Brutha house is also Brigitte Nielsen, my fellow Dane who seems mad as a hatter, but who, if everything else fails, has the good fortune to be able to bitch-slap even the bravest into submission.
Having managed to watch less and less of Big Brother, and especially the celebrity-kind, over the previous years, my curiosity was awakened when I heard rumours about super-rich, ultra wanky and yet so dishy Eddie Irvine being the eye candy this year. (A rumour that turned out to be untrue, sadly).
Anyway, my money's on Bez who, as Shaun Ryder said, is Bez is Bez, just like Tigger.
Joining her in the Big Brutha house is also Brigitte Nielsen, my fellow Dane who seems mad as a hatter, but who, if everything else fails, has the good fortune to be able to bitch-slap even the bravest into submission.
Having managed to watch less and less of Big Brother, and especially the celebrity-kind, over the previous years, my curiosity was awakened when I heard rumours about super-rich, ultra wanky and yet so dishy Eddie Irvine being the eye candy this year. (A rumour that turned out to be untrue, sadly).
Anyway, my money's on Bez who, as Shaun Ryder said, is Bez is Bez, just like Tigger.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
And a happy New Year to all.
Things learnt:
Under-4's cannot succesfully help you pack your suitcases.
Try not to spend 9 hours in a car with your in-laws.
Champagne at 11 in morning can make you a bit faint.
Belgians do not exchange anything. Ever.
Men sometimes look thinner with beards.
I'm too old for stilts.
Things seen:
Drunken Germans wearing paper sacks.
Drunken Danes setting their fingers alight. To prove a point.
Things received:
The Beautiful
The Damned
And the Eye in the Sky
And now:
Back at work.
Zzzzzz.
Things learnt:
Under-4's cannot succesfully help you pack your suitcases.
Try not to spend 9 hours in a car with your in-laws.
Champagne at 11 in morning can make you a bit faint.
Belgians do not exchange anything. Ever.
Men sometimes look thinner with beards.
I'm too old for stilts.
Things seen:
Drunken Germans wearing paper sacks.
Drunken Danes setting their fingers alight. To prove a point.
Things received:
The Beautiful
The Damned
And the Eye in the Sky
And now:
Back at work.
Zzzzzz.
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