Monday, April 11, 2005

Early Morning Ramblings

I really should be in bed. A long time ago. But, instead I sit here in darkness listening to Thomas Newman's "American Beauty" theme and downloading some Crowded House. On top of this, I have a strong urge to splurge some thoughts onto here, hell knows why? Not like anyone reads this.

I'm going stir crazy sitting here at home for the majority of the time. This month of holidays from Uni seems to be stretching out. But I'm not complaining as there are some hardcore assignments due on the first day back, but I'm just not motivated to do much. I really don't know what's gotten into me.
Would be interesting to see just how many other people have screwed sleeping patterns. From what I can tell, there seems to be quite a few who continually wake up still tired, lethargic throughout the day and up to all hours at night. I guess for me, it's the lack of routine that disrupts everything.

I've applied for jobs, about 8 in the past week but alas, nothing. Always the case. So disheartening and depressing. Especially when you consider a good friend lost his job. That makes two people now that have been made redundant under the age of 20.

I finally joined the gym. After making the New Year's resolution that I will, I did. I try to be a man of my word so I'm happy about this goal. It ain't too bad, except for the morning after my first session where my arm was locked into place from benchpressing. So with any luck, throwing a bunch of weights around and straining every inch of me, I may just be able to walk around next Christmas comfortably with an ironboard chest without worrying about what people will say about my boobs and the gut that accompanies them.

In other news, got bashed up a week ago. First time I've ever had a black eye. Now, normally I can talk my way out and run away to avoid any such confrontation, but this was utterly unprecedented. A friend and I were walking home after some drunken fun wrestling on the side of the highway, making silly noises between ourselves that in no way, can be misinterpreted as discriminatory, racist, or insulting. There were two girls in front of us with their bottle of Beam. As we departed ways, the little shits decided to verbally attack us about our noises and take it personal. Next we know, these "girls" are running full belt at us. We hold our ground. Surely two girls can't do much? They're girls. Sweet little girls who go to Heaven. But these fuckfaces were anything but. I was punched in my head, my mate tackled with his t-shirt wrapped around his body like a straight jacket. What made matters worse for us is the fact they were Mauris. Big, beefy Mauri girls. Luckily for me I suppose I didn't write about this when I got home with clenched fists with a swollen face, mumbling racist insults left, right, and centre. After I told her where to go and what she can do, she kept following. As I walked backwards, I was narrowly missing street signs and driveways, eventually I grabbed her arms trying to calm her down when the slag punched my eye. Anyway, I ended up on the other side of the Princes Highway, yelling out to my mate to drop it and walk off. First thing I thought of was what my Gran always says, "When you get into a fight, your mates will be the first to leave you for dead". I couldn't leave him but I couldn't risk getting involved and making matters worse. So, I rang the police. They were hopeless. After he managed to talk his way out, albeit a punched nose that made it more crooked, he was glad that I "got the violent one". Yay! Yeah! I'll take a few punches for a mate anytime! So here we were, sitting on the corner path, just like a scene out of "Fight Club" waiting for the police who never came and watching a couple of cop cars, AND an ambulance drive straight past.
It's only until now that the black eye has faded and the lumps receded. Mind you, I saw these two girls again last night walking the streets of Pakenham. I don't normally use it but in this case - cunts. Why is it that some black people have a chip on their shoulder? Seriously, we were having innocent fun, nothing to do with them and they turned around and attacked us! Downright irrational-thinking cunts. Boy I'm pissed. (Worthy to note that Today Tonight has an article about Australian girls and families being attacked and terrorised by these bastards).


In other big news, the Pope is dead. Good thing in a way as the poor bugger was suffering. I haven't really been much of a fan of him as I've always wondered what the hell it is exactly, that he does? But when he passed away, it wasn't until then, I heard the stories. Funny isn't it how when someone dies, people always say good things about them but rarely whilst they're alive?
He did squash Communism so that's a fair effort I reckon, not to mention the Berlin Wall. It wasn't until I stopped writing for a minute just now, that I noticed the first sentence - "the Pope is dead". This, is, literally, the biggest thing that may happen in our lifetimes. It's not everyday that a world leader so famous, powerful, and influential dies and subsequently, the attendance of mourners at the Vatican can clearly be seen from space! R.I.P. JP II.

It really is a crazy mixture in the media, funerals and weddings left, right, and centre. Rather interesting juxtaposition. Although I really couldn't give a rats arse about Prince Charles and you know who.

You know the more I think about "Anchorman" the more and more I like it. I highly recommend you watch it. Will Farell is a champion when it comes to humor and acting. Top stuff! Top movie!

Well I've done it again and crapped on about random happenings from the past week. After having two big piss-ups from Friday night (whereby I acquired a certain girl's phone number within an hour and being asked out to the movies, getting pissed with old school chums, and hearing about a mate breaking into my house only for him to find I wasn't in my bed!) to the pool\spa party last night that had too much run, white rum and Whiskey mixes along with crazy sexual happenings in the spa where things involving objects were inserted, gay fantasies, elephant leaves, toe-licking, same sex kissing, and naked tities. Who knows what the camping trip up on the Yarra River will hold this week.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Growing Pains

...and now, a word from our sponsor.

I was overjoyed to find an old CD at the back of the DVD cabinet under the TV which was a CD an old friend did at the end of Yr. 12. He compiled some basic Visual Basic program with a simple search function for each person in the year level, bringing them up with their personal details and their quiz we had them take. One of the questions on there was, "What's the meaning of teenage life". It wasn't until tonight that I realised the answer to life as a whole, is: growing pains.

Life. It's just sheer fucking craziness. It's fucked up but oh so beautiful simultaneously. It's not unil now, my peak has been reached and thus I am ready to turn everything up on it's head: personally, mentally, socially, and creatively.

Ever had one of those days where so much weird shit has been crammed into the one day? Where it just has so much meaning to why you eat your French Fries the way you do to trimming your nasal hair? Or why you scratch your back first thing upon entering the shower? I've been having alot of those days lately, and quite possibly, on a daily basis.

You just have to stop and take a look around. Take a picture while you're at it.

This whole "me writing about cryptic shit that people won't get, raving about tards I come across, or relishing in how supposedly great something is whereby no one would give a shit about" has fallen downhill. I'm just sick of this shit. This blog. No one comments. No one reads. I don't write. Also earlier attempts at trying to become one with the whole "blogosphere" community. It's rather cohesive, too cohesive I might add. If you ain't writing about politics or raving about some bolding MP with a middle-age spread, you just AIN'T worth it. You are not cool. No one will read or give you a chance, nor will they hold any esteem for you. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. I may have linked on this blog of people from social frolicking of yester-months but Im quite sure they don't read me as I might with them. But, I know - you must write something in order for people to just to take a 5 second glance only to immediately dismiss it. Fuck it all in it's arse. Im going out on a limb and people can like it or lump it. Threatening or just complaining? Take it as you please and you can have your cake with it as well. But individuality grows stronger in me, I want to do something that sums me up, this person right here. It continually amuses me as well bloggers always fit in the descriptive, "self-indulging" in their posts. Well no shit, that's exactly what a blog is isn't? My Mum put it so well a while ago where she said it was rather a case of self-centered ramblings. And even when people whinge about people whinging, that's hilarity at it's highest calibre.

Just why do we blog? Therapy? Attention-seeking? Status-symbol? Piss-poor attempt at journalistic fantasies? Neh, whatever it is, I'm doing mine, albeit on a "once-in-a-blue-moon" routine, for myself and people who want to take part as either a spectator, a comrade in arms, or relish in how shit this blog can get. I am also doing it as a way of looking back, nostalgia, status symbol (although that won't happen), occasionally humble, frequently egotistical, sometimes hilarious, a dash of sex, and above all; honest. Hey, that's what blogs are all about ain't they?

Speaking of blogs on the whole, I have been on the bandwagon as well and neglected things around here like oh so many others have. Ever wondered why this ain't updated?

Here it is, no order whatsoever:
1. Final year University - Bachelors Degree in Communiciations. What fun this is. Im serious! Just from a month of doing Sociology I can aim my commentary gun oh so directly with it's cross hair and hit some social matter on the head. Discussion abounds in class and with voulchers ready to prounce on anything you say, it embelishes passion in everyone, where we all argue and try to can understand this crazy society a little bit more. Capitalism, Socialism, Industrial Revolution, Commodities, Gemeinshaft, Gesellshaft, Consumption and Production. It rocks my jocks down to the socks! Comsumer society - you just gotta love it!
Then there's Communication & Culture that Im studying that touches the art of talking and writing in all it's simplicity and origins, not to mention a dash of anthropology. Composition the online component of the course, and Film: Style & Story. It's a thrill to be able to drive in for class on Thursdays as well during the evening, except the shit on Toorak Rd in peak hour. It is a pain to get up at 6AM Fridays for an all day session. But bah, I can hack it and there's something about the early morning train ride I really enjoy and just doing a full days work.

2. 21 and I don't have a job. Am I lazy? Should I get a poll for people to have their say as to whether I am or not? I swear I'm not, but being unemployed sucks arse. I go to bed 5-6AM as I work on some film or animation shit throughout the night and get up 2 in the arvo. I don't like it, I don't want to do it anymore. I want a job, REALLY want one but alas, every job I come across is either too far, the cunts want someone who's experienced, or you need some special qualification. I don't use the C word much but this has really pissed me off and disheartens\depresses me beyond my realms. How are those of us suppose to get experience if it's such a neccessity to begin with? Not only am I applying for jobs left, right and centre in real estate, selling lights, but also in my chosen industry: film\CGI (as in animation, not the programming language). Problems have ensued there as I need to write different versions of my resume, cover letters to each company and also burn the bloody showreel onto DVD, but even then software that you rely on has to be an arsestick.

3. I'm absolutely sick of the look of this blog too. Old, inappropriate,irrevelant, and just shite. With some luck and of course, time, I'll draw up some sketches for how I want this bastard to look. Something that shows for who I really am, the work I do, and what my dream is all about - Hollywood. I wrote in one post at the previous re-release of The Written Word 1.0 about what the colours, icons and all that means, but it just doesn't fit into who's behind all of this, not how the content is suppose to be presented. Now there's "self-indulgence" in true blog-style for you!
On top of this, I'm working on two other websites. A personal portfolio for the films\animation\artwork I've done over the years and create some kind of online presence for my work for any potential employers out there. Hi to you all! And finally, a website for my current film I'm working diligently on. Being an entirely 3D short film, it does taken up a fair bit of my time. Since Janurary I've been storyboarding the film, two versions of these storyboards, editing them both into a movie presentation, and now Im about to embark on the wonderful world of pre-vis and concept designs. In due time, you'll hear more about it. If it turns out how I see it in my head, then it could just very well be my big break I'm desperate for.

4. Working on a 3D short film isn't entirely a walk on the beach. The storyboarding may have been over and done with; the longest part, but soon the concept designs, modelling, animation, visual effects, cloth, hair, rendering, compositing, packaging and everything else that follows will be coming up; the harder stuff. So you can be sure that late nights over the keyboard wrapping my mind around parameter settings for cloth effects, hair & fur, rain, clouds, storms, snow, photorealism will ensure for a good part of this year and keep up my fucked-up sleeping patterns. With any luck it will be all done by Christmas, so I have a schedule as well that governs things.

5. Today I joined up to the gym. Yes, for those who do know me, it may well be highly amusing shit, but I'm not doing it for amusement. I need to. It is time. I look in the mirror and see the body of a late 30-something year old. I want abs, I want an ironboard stomach, I want some decent beefiness where it should be, and by God I will get it. This was one of my New Year's resolutions and I'm sticking to my word.
I'm still planning on joining the SES, but my real desire lies within the aim of enrolling at some dance school to learn ballroom. I'm just so incredibly eager to take it up (and have been for a long time). I could dance the night away if I had the chance given to me, and the girl. It's always about the girls too.

So there you have it. That was the tip of the iceberg but now you know why things are hardly updated. Any complaints feel free to either let me know and of course, drop a comment. Your guess is as good as mine as to where things will go with not just this site, but life as well.

Monday, February 28, 2005

Tonight is the "Night of Nights"

...Filmmaker Extraordinnaire is bouncing off the walls and not surprisingly either.

With only 72 minutes left (as of time of writing this) to go, the wait is finally over. The night of nights has arrived and rightly so, what can be called one of, (if not the biggest) night of the year. There is really only one other night that comes close to such charged atmosphere and that's Christmas Eve. Personally, I see the night when the Academy Awards airs as predominantly the most important night. Obviously you would know why I do hold such high esteem and excitement for this 3.5 hour long fest of gold statuettes, gowns, red carpet arrivals, paparazzi, flashing bulbs, and long-winded speeches of thankfulness towards managers and God one too many times. If not and you don't know what I do, browse on over to the profile. Speaks for itself.

In all seriousness, I have been counting down towards this night.With less than 5 minutes before Richard Wilkins interviews the red carpet steamrollers on the widescreen TV behind me, I'm bouncing everywhere like a child on red cordial and have been for the past couple of weeks. Big whoop you might exclaim? Well, holding tightly onto my life goal of reaching Hollywood and being a (professional) film director\producer\writer one day soon; this night is by far, what it's all about - Achievement. But enough about why I watch it.
Following is the list of nominees for this year's Oscars:

Performance by an actor in a leading role
Don Cheadle in "Hotel Rwanda"
Johnny Depp in "Finding Neverland"
*Leonardo DiCaprio in "The Aviator"
Clint Eastwood in "Million Dollar Baby"
^Jamie Foxx in "Ray"


Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Alan Alda in "The Aviator"
Thomas Haden Church in "Sideways"
^Jamie Foxx in "Collateral"
*Morgan Freeman in "Million Dollar Baby"
Clive Owen in "Closer"


Performance by an actress in a leading role
Annette Bening in "Being Julia"
Catalina Sandino Moreno in "Maria Full of Grace"
Imelda Staunton in "Vera Drake"
^*Hilary Swank in "Million Dollar Baby"
Kate Winslet in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"


Performance by an actress in a supporting role
^*Cate Blanchett in "The Aviator" (although the bloody 6 o'clock news ruined the results for me. Bastards)
Laura Linney in "Kinsey"
Virginia Madsen in "Sideways"
Sophie Okonedo in "Hotel Rwanda"
Natalie Portman in "Closer"


Best animated feature film of the year
^*"The Incredibles"
"Shark's Tale"
"Shrek 2"


Achievement in art direction
"The Aviator"
"Finding Neverland"
"Lemony Snicket?s A Series of Unfortunate Events"
^*"The Phantom of the Opera"
"A Very Long Engagement"


Achievement in cinematography
*"The Aviator"
^"House of Flying Daggers"
"The Passion of the Christ"
"The Phantom of the Opera"
"A Very Long Engagement"


Achievement in costume design
*"The Aviator"
"Finding Neverland"
"Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events"
^"Ray"
"Troy"


Achievement in directing
*"The Aviator"
"Million Dollar Baby"
^"Ray"
"Sideways"
"Vera Drake"


Best documentary feature
"Born into Brothels"
^"The Story of the Weeping Camel"
*"Super Size Me"
"Tupac: Resurrection"
"Twist of Faith"


Best documentary short subject
*"Autism Is a World"
"The Children of Leningradsky"
"Hardwood"
^"Mighty Times: The Children's March"
"Sister Rose's Passion"


Achievement in film editing
*"The Aviator"
"Collateral"
"Finding Neverland"
^"Million Dollar Baby"
"Ray"


Best foreign language film of the year
"^As It Is in Heaven"
*"The Chorus (Les Choristes)"
"Downfall"
"The Sea Inside"
"Yesterday"


Achievement in makeup
^"Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events"
*"The Passion of the Christ"
"The Sea Inside"


Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)
*"Finding Neverland"
"Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban"
"Lemony Snicket?s A Series of Unfortunate Events"
^"The Passion of the Christ"
"The Village"


Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)
"Accidentally In Love" from "Shrek 2"
"Al Otro Lado Del Río" from "The Motorcycle Diaries"
"Believe" from "The Polar Express"
^*"Learn To Be Lonely" from "The Phantom of the Opera"
"Look To Your Path (Vois Sur Ton Chemin)" from "The Chorus (Les Choristes)"


Best motion picture of the year
*"The Aviator"
"Finding Neverland"
"Million Dollar Baby"
^"Ray"
"Sideways"


Best animated short film
^*"Birthday Boy" (Local Melbourne talent too!)
"Gopher Broke"
"Guard Dog"
"Lorenzo"
"Ryan"


Best live action short film
"Everything in This Country Must"
*"Little Terrorist"
"7:35 in the Morning ( 7:35 de la Mañana)"
"Two Cars, One Night"
^"Wasp"


Achievement in sound editing
*"The Incredibles"
^"The Polar Express"
"Spider-Man 2"


Achievement in sound mixing
^*"The Aviator"
"The Incredibles"
"The Polar Express"
"Ray"
"Spider-Man 2"


Achievement in visual effects
"Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban"
"I, Robot"
^*"Spider-Man 2"


Adapted screenplay
"Before Sunset"
*"Finding Neverland"
"Million Dollar Baby"
"The Motorcycle Diaries"
^"Sideways"


Original screenplay
"The Aviator"
*"Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"
^"Hotel Rwanda"
"The Incredibles"
"Vera Drake"


* is next to the nominee who I'm predicting will win
^ is next to the nominee who will actually end up winning


Immediately after the 77th Annual Academy Awards finishes airing tonight, I will endeavor to write up a review of all the craziness that went on; including: ghastly outfits, blubbering speeches, surprises, the magic, the stars and the joy of celebrating this year's highest achievers in the world of cinema across the globe. Stay tuned for more.

3 minutes to go...

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Be My, Be My Baby

The world according to Eros

Life as a romantic isn't quite a bed of roses. Especially in this day and age. It seems that everyone has lost what the real meaning is behind St. Valentine's Day,("Corporate Love Day" as some would call it) or better still, romance in general. Yes it's a big Hallmark commercial but shit, how else are the companies going to make money? Christmas is right up there with it's commercial vulnerability as is Easter, Australia Day, and any other God-forsaken public holiday. But I will die as a "martyr of love" as readers, bloggers, and anyone else prepare their artillery to shoot me down for when I say that anyone who calls it as a "Corporate Love Day", is already a cynical, jaded person who should hold off their skeptical grumblings till they at least hit the age of 70. Time enough to be sour with all that is around you in the world. Some people are growing up too quick where they are already whinging like goddamn geriatics. With my track record, I'm surprised I'm not as sour as I should be when it comes to these matters too.

I've often wondered why some people are deadset on romanticism, whilst others are just not that way inclined. I don't know where I got my supposed romantic ways from, but I swear it's a curse. You can almost hear people scream "Idealist!", "Dreamer", "Loser" when they hear your views on "what should be done" for loved ones. Fucked if I know why people look down on sending roses to your other half, pulling the chair out, asking how their day was, being honest and not bottling your feelings, massages, and hugs. At the end of the day, these cycnics are the ones who go to bed alone. You would think so wouldn't you?

Well it seems most romantics (that I've heard of or come across) cop the rough end of the pineapple. If anyone has copped the roughest part of the pineapple in their end, it's me. I will save future musings on romance to another day, in the meantime, first thing's first - Valentine's Day.

I agree entirely that you shouldn't necessarily treat your other half nicely for just one day, that is rather absurd. Also it's not that special if you're celebrating your day with pretty much the whole world simultaneously. But this doesn't mean you should ignore Valentine's Day.

It started so innocently.

As far back as I remember, since I was 9, I've managed to have a crush that I could shoot an arrow at on February 14th. Of course, ultimately, nothing eventuates due to my short-comings whereby I am either lacking in confidence hardcore, shy, or just too simply afraid of rejection. An opportunity lost, is an opportunity gone I suppose. The first victim girl that I fall head over heels for was from my drama academy in Frankston. Wow, she was gorgeous. Stranger still, we somehow always got paired up to play either boyfriend\girlfriend, husband and wife, or whatever in most plays we did. I love these ironic situations. When it came to the day, I wrote up the card, looked up her surname in the White Pages and off I sent my card to her. Conveniently, my mate lived up the road. So after a week's allowance of letting the card get to her, I brought it up with him and pointed out the house where she lived. "Um..you sure?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, absolutely!", I optimistically replied. "I don't think so. There's two old couple living there."

SHIT.

I'm sure I caused a domestic of some sort between Arthur and Martha who were just about to celebrate their 40th Wedding Anniversary, when suddenly Arthur curiously asks, "Who sent this card to you, Love? Is there something you should be telling me".

FUCKBERRIES. Stupid multiple surname listings of people in the same town.

Then there was the girl up around the corner of my street whom looked like Ocean Girl. Damn she was a hotty. Pity she had a fucked up background. But still, accepting "most people's" faults, I sent her a card. I tried hinting to her brother, my mate, to drop the hint to her that it was me. And then there was her older sister who made me dribble. Never heard from her again. Then I had a fight with the ones whom I had met her through, and the world exploded after that. And then she ran away from home...and lived for a bit in the creek over the fence..or something.

Puberty bestowed itself upon me and the chemicals went off like a firecracker in the sack. I had this huge hankering for the "girl next door". Although she lived down the hill, near the haunted house, I was fortunate enough to have gone to primary school with her, befriend her brother through that drama academy, become good mates where she would often beg if she could come along with us. Deep down I secretly wanted her to come, but I kept it quiet and her brother would say no. Some days, she would and all was well with the world. She was my Joey. But I never sent her anything and I don't know why to this day. That's one regret right there. Just before moving to where I am now, her brother and I had a gigantuan falling out because I was "unco and can't ride a skatboard" and "too smart" or some shit. Years later, friend of a friend's place I was at and this Joey came up in the conversation. Turns out she was good friends with her. Six degrees fucking hardcore! Then I heard she was pregnant.

Serious relationships welcomed themselves as a novelty (at first) in the form of a my mate's ex-girlfriend's sister. She was a complete angel. I was in love for sure. I must get further acquainted with this girl. So the days passed at the end of 2001 there and I rang her, we saw Lord of the Rings, I visited her, rang more, and things were quite spiffy. Valentine's Day reared it's head and I had a plan.
Soaring temperatures climbed up the thermometer as I rushed around to some florists at the last minute to get a bunch of Gerberas for this spunky red-head at school. I asked the receptionist to call her to the desk. I figured I would have a better chance of getting one of them in the end. I was in graphics with her as she exited the room, her friends giggling as they had talked with me about it. She came back, bewildered at who would do such a thing. Anonymous went about his graphics work.
The bell went off for lunch and I packed my gear to get a lift to Dandenong for the bus upto Wantirna. It seemed that the whole of Yr. 12 were rooting for me as they wished my luck and I went out on my Valentine's Adventure.

I still remember sweating like a pig, although I don't much in 36 heat. Feels like yesterday. Still remember that idiotic wog who squashed my flowers on the bus! Never had I freaked this hard. Nearly shat myself. I knocked on the door..only to find out that she wasn't home. Ugh! So I sat putting up with her Mum telling me all about her new laptop and the ball of fluff pulling at my shoelaces.

...and so I waited...
...and waited...
...her Mum rang to see where she is and to "get home QUICK".
Finally, she arrived.
The bundle of red roses were given to her along with the poem inside the card. I still remember sitting at the kitchen counter, watching her Mum and her fuss over which vase to put the flowers in. Then later going for a walk with her, hand-in-hand, outpouring my feelings for her. Fuck I was terrified. Every worry, every fear I had was sealed when I asked if I could kiss her and as they say, the rest is history.

(Only now though, this good person not only went to college with her, but is ironically going to the same university as her, in Tasmania! Who knows what the future could hold).

Years later, and a few more partners later - 2004 saw the biggest Valentine's Day ever. My ex girlfriend and I had broken up just before Valentine's Day but things were amended and the Valentine's Day plans were to go ahead. So it seemed.
I'm bloody glad and fortunate to have these experiences as it inevitably shapes up who you become further down the road and gives you a sense of limitations, expectations, and not out-doing yourself. But for this partner, I was planning something big. Limousine. Picnic at the Botanic Gardens. Moonlight Cinema. Breakfast in bed. Just went crazy and too far with it all. I was getting to the point of being in love with love. Luckily I realised this and we eventuated with lunch at La Porchetta where I gave her a teddy bear and yet another poem in a fancy card. It was sworn to me that my gift was on it's way. It never came and we broke up within the fortnight because little had I known, she was thinking of breaking up with me all along during that time.

Friends who know this story say it's why I'm pessimistic with Valentine's Day because "poor wittle Filmy didn't get anything". Not the case. It's this above history right here. It's the track record that says why bother? That's why I say it can get fucked. I always give something to someone and never EVER gotten anything back. Therefore it can get sodded.

That's why I froze for a straight 10 minutes when I saw a Valentine's Day card at my breakfast bowl today. Analytical bastard I am, I looked carefully at the handwriting on the front and realised that someone was trying to disguise their normal style they write with. Inside, I couldn't believe my eyes. If you know me personally then you'll know that I DO NOT get things like this. The content was brief and closed simply with no name. It made me swoon. I accused my parents of setting up a cruel joke but I know they didn't. Unless it's some cruel-hearted bastard friends who did it to cheer me up or something. Bit like Sympathy Sex.

Assuming it's for real and considering I'm normally cynical and jaded with expecting to get anything on Valentine's Day; I'm jumping over the moon. For once I don't do anything and this happens? I have butterflies to last me the next few months!

Saturday, February 12, 2005

'Tis The Season For Augmentation

"That time" of the year

Sitting by the back door here feeling the freshness sweep in from the garden with the wind, I write this as I recover from my latest bout of hedonistic adventures last night at that notorious nightclub, Furnace. Feeling the pains of recovery from too much intake of Bourbon (not to mention waking up still pissed as I tend to do more often than having a hangover luckily) I drum up the strenth to face yet another night out on the town and on the turps. Hopefully. No plans yet.
But amidst all of this, insynced with that stale feeling you get after a heavy night boozing, I was looking at my blog design and decided it too, was stale. Time for an overhaul I reckon.

With thanks to these two and their Blog-esque ways of late, it has me looking at my own. Not only this, but also doing the rounds of other blogs out there, I've noted their design elements, templates, colour palette, and layouts. Some are fantastic. Others are just plain shithouse. Think of it as social comparison in a way. Presentation is everything, other than content and quality. So in hindsight, I got thinking about my own. There seems to be some space here to do something with it. Something that will convey who I am, what my blog is, and all that shite. Also some things have been shitting me with the look of it lately, so there's another excuse for a revamp.

I was going to do a short-listing of the new features in The Written Word 2.1 but I'd rather have you ogle over it when it comes out. Even I don't know what exactly I'll do to it, but the vision is somewhere in my head.

Oh, and as for this "that time* header at the top, that will be revealed in due time as well.