for those with attention defi

Read quickly.

snap decisions, the perils thereof

So the Killers song turned out to be quite fun in the end. And now I have an even more humbling retraction to make. After repeated exposure, the new My Chemical Romance song turns out to be a big ball of emo bombast which is actually somewhat irresistible. I know, I know, sign me up for a MySpace page and photograph me looking up at the camera. But I can't resist epic pop, I really can't. This is why I own a Muse album and consider the last minute of System of a Down's Chop Suey to be utter genius. It's all very embarrassing. I have no doubt that Flapjack will taunt me mercilessly upon reading this, but there you go. Sometimes you have to go with your gut.

Now I'm off to write in my LiveJournal about how the only thing that really scares me is myself.

moth is listening to: My Chemical Romance
Mood: ^_^ Kawaii!

It's the bomb that will bring us together

Americans - and by this I mean inhabitants of the USA - cannot be trusted with anything.  While playing a kangaroo-based version of Hangman recently (it's called Hangaroo. Do you have a problem with that?  It's the least of my worries), the category "French cuisine" came up.  The answer was something along the lines of "Crispy cheese puffs".  Okay, not really understanding French cuisine, there.  Then came the category "Indian delicacies".  The answer - the Kangaroo swung for this - was "Banana Raita".

Seriously, this is what they do with food and this country is trusted with thermonuclear explosives.

I am currently listening to

the new My Chemical Romance single (on the radio, I've not gone insane and bought it).  No sign of a hook turning up yet.  Heaven help us if they ever discover structure.  Judging by the twiddly guitar, they'll turn into a sort of emo Iron Maiden.  It's just noise!  They make me feel old.

Going on outside my office right now

The biggest funeral I have ever seen. I can count 7 black cars with huge flower arrangements on top, but there may be more round the corner. Two hearses, because the flowers wouldn't fit in just one. Dozens - possibly hundreds - of people. A speaker set up outside to broadcast to the inevitable overspill. I have no idea who the man they're there for is (I intially wondered if they were re-burying Diana), but he's "Daddy", "Uncle" and "Pal". A woman with a double pushchair went in before everyone else. Details tell a bit of the story...

comment is free

Fuck's sake. I set the settings, I know I did, so anonymous comments were not allowed. Somehow that setting changed and the fucks spammed my blog. And it's not like their urls even do anything! Fuckers! Deleting...

no! no I don't want it!

I don't want your stupid free newspaper!

They're like a plague in London right now. Walk 20 yards down any street (this is in the City, not sure about elsewhere, but I imagine it's similar for most of the centre) and you could theoretically end up clutching 13 papers. Not different papers, mind. 7 copies of London Lite and 6 of thelondonpaper. On Friday they were handing out bits of the Telegraph. Enough! At least give me an alternative to all these right-wing publications (London Lite is produced by Associated Newspapers, fount of all things Daily Mail, thelondonpaper is Murdoch's News International. The Torygraph hardly needs an introduction).

And they're so bloody aggressive at the moment. I understand it's something to do with gaining the distribution right within the stations themselves (as Associated's Metro does in the mornings), but fuck! Back off, baseball cap-wearing paper-muggers! If I want it, I'll take it. Don't shove it at me.

Having said all that, if you need something to wrap your kitchen waste in before putting it in the recycling bin it's an ideal situation out there...

New!

Review for the Nicolas Cage-starring remake of The Wicker Man now up. Coming soon - Clerks II review that I forgot to write at the time!

well, that was an anticlimax

Pete wins. Angels still get their wings. Hurrah for everything and oh god the British public have let me down again. They were doing so well! Nikki came out fifth! Then Aisleyne came out third and, well, then I dunno. Went to another channel.

The end is nigh

if you don't watch Big Brother, stop reading now.  I'm about to go on about all the finalists one by one and you won't find it even faintly interesting.  If you do watch it, you'll find it dull too.  But at least you'll know what I'm talking about.

Glyn:  I think I'm slightly out there on Glyn, but I hate him quite irrationally.  I just see his eyes staring out from those beetling brows as he pronounces someone boring and posh because they have an English accent, or they refuse to let him play with their boobies, or they don't like black pudding, or they may have once said that Wales isn't the best place in the world ever and I find myself wanting to shake him by his shoulders until his supposed big brain rattles its way out of his gormless mouth.  Of course, it'll be closely followed by a torrent of Welsh, and cider-scented vomit.    His recent pronouncement that he was "fooled" by Aisleyne's breasts was quite marvellous.  And I had high hopes for him in the early stages, too.  Also, for a man so obsessed with Wales, he is surprisingly ignorant of its famous sons (I'm thinking of David Lloyd George specifically here). Could still win, but unlikely.

Jennie:  She's a bit nothing, isn't she?  I've tried to have a full opinion on Jennie, but I keep failing.  She's Scouse, I think that's as far as I get before I'm distracted by a shiny object.  She's been very rude for no reason to various people (most recently Ais), but this isn't really a personality, it's just a way of passing the time in an obnoxious fashion.  Might be a bit of a thickie.  Has absolutely no chance of winning.

Nikki:  Oh, Nikki.  So much fun for so long, then she lost it and we booted her out.  This gave her a chance to relax, refresh, take in her publicity, get a spin-off show sorted, watch every hour of footage she could then return to the house against the wishes of the general public.  Since then she has been a lazy caricature of herself and a vicious, spiteful little Puck to Richard's guffawing Oberon.  Has been virtually inseparable from odds-on winner Pete since she returned.  Amazing how the possibility of someone winning £100,000 will make them more attractive, isn't it?  Sorry, sorry.  They Are For Real.  Yeah, as real as Nikki's tantrums since she returned.  Not a hope of winning.  We evicted her once - was that not clear?

Richard:  He's a dick, is our Richard.  He's actually been quite fun over the 13 weeks, a steady balance of self-help gobbledeook and high-camp diary room bitching justifying his longevity.  But he is a bit nasty sometimes and you do wish he'd shut his trap every so often - his every word is not worth hanging on.  Still.  I wouldn't mind too much if he won, to be honest.  I'm not rooting for him, but I wouldn't much care.  His future-autobiography (saccharine though it was) actually made me realise that he was, you know, an outsider.  Plunged into this house of British crazies, I hadn't previously considered his nationality to be an issue - the Canadians are pretty much like us, right?  But imagine if he was Dutch, or Swedish.  We'd be going "Oh, god, poor Richard in with those weird British people!"  I don't know exactly what my point is here.

Pete:  Eek.  I said at the start that I liked Pete.  I thought he didn't deserve to be there, that he was a bit too nice, perhaps.  Lucky I carried on watching!  After the first couple of weeks of fun, there followed 8 weeks of moping, sulking and spineless capitulation to whoever was causing him to sulk or mope.  Oh, and much homemade Gamelan.  Then Nikki went back in!  Hurrah!  Pete came out of his shell!  Oh, no wait..  He just attached his shell, limpet-like, to Nikki.  So the last three weeks of the contest basically invovled the others doing stuff while Nikki and Pete indulged in face-sucking dullitude.  Oh, but wait!  What's this?  Pete's had a vision?  His dead friend came down from Heaven and told him he'd win Big Brother?  What on odd thing for a dead person to make the trip down here to tell you.  Still, now we know that if Pete wins Heaven still exists!  Also, if you clap your hands hard enough then the fairies will all come back to life.  The most shamelessly manipulative tactic ever seen on Big Brother.  Terrifying.  Still a lock to win, I fear, but I kind of hope not now.

Aisleyne:  Poor old Aisleyne.  Seems like everyone's had it in for her from the moment she popped out of her box in week 2.  Late arrivals never tend to fare too well, but when she refused to bow down to King Cock Sezer's bullying (indirectly getting him kicked out in the process), it was maybe possible that she was a stayer.  Her fighting spirit saw her outlive Grace, Lisa and Lea before she was given a fate worse than eviction - the House Next Door.  This quite broke her spirit, and resulted in the return to the main house of a humbled, weepy Aisleyne who flinched at the very mention of the word "nomination".  At first it looked like she'd be all right; she had her defenders (Imogen, the most wonderful follower a leader could have) and, in those days, Jennie both fought Ais's corner.  But that support has been whittled away and finally destroyed with the return of Nikki, who had taken in the anti-Ais bias of BB's satellite shows and had her sighted as the enemy to be ruthlessly hounded (something which I can't help but feel has been picked up by the twitchily-savvy housemates and turned them against her).  Now on the final stretch, it's just possible that Aisleyne could win it.  Nailing my colours to the mast - as if you hadn't guessed - I want her to do it.  And remember, if she loses, A UNICORN WILL DIE.

Cutting edge

Greetings from sunny London, centre of International Terrorism! Very exciting to find that there have been raids by armed officers just minutes (on a bus) from the very spot I'm typing from. Meanwhile, everyone intending to make a flight today is packing their wallet into a clear plastic bag and generally queueueueueing. Still, they all seem very sanguine about it. Good for them! As many have pointed out, it's this or being blown to bits over Boston. Which would you choose?

In other news, can Big Brother finish now, please? Endemol appear to have broken it.

Miscommunication

Sitting on a train. Boiling. Some bastard has pulled the emergency cord. May die while driver walks down the track to the last carriage. Urge to kill rising.

OMG

The new Killers song sounds like Meat Loaf!

All kinds of extremely wrong.

coke zero

No.  That is all. 

It's not easy

I find that I'm increasingly reaching for my blog entries.  I'm desperate for subjects on which to write.  Not because there's nothing happening, but because, well, who cares?  I could say things like "I love bitchy Daleks" or "Endemol's attempts to keep Jayne in the house for one more week is tragically transparent" but what's the point?  I mean, did you see Love Island?  I won't make the point that it's no longer Celebrity Love Island, and I won't bother talking about anything that happened in it because it's been done elsewhere, and by funnier and more incisive people than I.

So that's TV over with.  What about the real world?  Do you think I'm insane enough to open this blog up to politics?  I mean, I may be desperate for comments but not if they're all nutty ones from people with bees in their bonnets.  Note how the real world is shorthand for "current affairs" not "The Moth's life", because no.  Although I can say that it's spider season again, which means that.. well, this morning I opened the door to take the recycling out and there was a perfect, beautifully woven web at face-height across the door.  Nice!  That got short shrift from me, and a newspaper was deployed to break up the arachnid artistry.  Try writing moving messages about pigs if you don't want me to smash your home, dudes!

Also, ants.  One never likes to, you know, kill ants.  But right now it's us or them.  I can't sit at the computer and be covered in insects.  No.  Can't happen.

Somewhat unapologetic

Wow, been a while since I posted, sorry. And since I last posted, a televisual event of major significance has begun!

I refer, of course, to Big Brother Seven. Ahh. Every year I get more entrenched in my love for Endemol's televised sanatorium. I think at one time I was even a bit apologetic in my liking of it. "Yeah, but it's, like, a social experiment and really interesting and that". Fuck that, you know it's all about who said what about whom and what they did under the blankets with whatsit and how the nominations went and that. This year is already aces. Sezer's eviction renewed (or maybe created) my faith in the Great British Public (91.6%!!! In a three-way vote! Woo!) after their depressingly obvious dismissal of Bonnie. And the next big eviction (Grace) will be just as satisfying, though I expect the interview will be more fierce than Sezer's was.

And I'm liking people! Aisleyne is great, she's coming over very well indeed - perceptive, straight-talking, good-natured. So I expect her to be kicked out very shortly. Pete - slight dificulty dealing with conflict in any way aside - is also very sweet, much sweeter than anyone else in the house. He probably doesn't deserve to be in there.

And Nikki, of course. The demented Harpy-child is the most consistently entertaining person in there. You've gotta love Nikki. You just couldn't live with her.

Apologies for any typos, by the way. The real computer is busted up and in the repair shop. This is Flppy's work laptop.

mysterious.

Last night I saw an advert in the window of WH Smith.  It read "Liked The Da Vinci Code?  Then you'll love these.." and there, amongst the likes of "An illustrated guide to the Da Vinci Code" and "The Michelangelo Code" was... "The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown.  Oh, really, WH Smith?  If you liked The Da Vinci Code you'll love the exact same thing?  Ya think??

Anyway, yeah.  I'm off to see the movie tonight.  Very excited.  It sounds *dreadful*.  But in a hilarious, point-and-laugh sort of way.

Oh, dear.

Montenegro seem to have split with Serbia.  Fine, sure, okay.  But you know what this means?  Another Balkan state to vote for all the others come Eurovision 2007.  Bah, stupid splitters.

Not that it mattered this year.  The best monsters won.

Ron Howard is GINGER and BALD.

We have a new bed.  If HTML worked in these emaily posts, I'd put in a link, but suffice to say that it comes from the easily-Googled Warren Evans and it rocks.  Between the new feather-and-down duvet and the feather-and-down mattress topper, one feels at night as if one is encased in a beautiful, soft coccoon.  Lovely.  Last night, we - in a completely innocent way - went to bed at 9pm, just to enjoy the feeling of being in bed.  Brand new linen, ironed (god, I'm not doing that every time.  I had the day off to let the guys in to build the bed, turns out I *actually* needed it to iron the linen), no more futon mattress...  Just so good.

Okay, well, get on with your day, good people.

I am out of touch

Not with you, although I am.  Hello, you.  How are you?

Bulletin from da kids:  Fat ties are in.  This seems at odds with the current vogue for all things 80s, but you can't argue with the way people knot their school ties.  There never was a time when fat ties were cool for us at school.  I feel old and weird just knowing this.

Talking of feeling old, what's MySpace all about?  Isn't it just a load of old shit?  I mean, why does everyone have a MySpace page?  Shameless self-promotion?  I genuinely don't get it.  I mean, I don't like LJ but at least I understand it.  MySpace seems to be filling a nonexistent void in the market.  Nonexistent void - wow.  There's a conceptual mindwarp for you.

Teatime

Wow.  Gosh, the cake was actually better today (the day after it was made).  The lemon has soaked through the sponge and the slight (not unpleasant) egginess of yesterday has vanished, replaced with a mellow lemony taste and a subtle crunch where the syrup has hardened to a sort of glaze.

And I still have a little left.  And more at home!  Woo!

Ushering In A New Era

Hello. This may be the first of many posts. I hope so. I'm at work, and this is via email. I decided to actually look at Blogger and see if there's a way to cut off the footer on a work email... and there is. Hurrah! So hopefully this will work and I'll post more regularly. Though I'm not guaranteed to be any more interesting than before. Also I don't know if the HTML in this message works properly.

Just to keep you up to date: We have bookshelves - IKEA's famed Billy is now resident - and a KitchenAid food mixer and thanks to that I have cake at lunchtime. Although I may save it for a sit-down at 4...

Ah, teatime.

British Cop!

A United Moths (a subsidiary of Flapjack44 International Megacorp) production, now on general release:

http://movies.lionhead.com/movie/76091

And... action.

The Movies rocks. I have a film prepping now - a 50's nostalgia piece with hot girl-on-girl action - and one in post whose name I have forgotten but which promises to be super-awesome, I think. I was a little disappointed with some of my earlier efforts - "The Cabin of Difficulty!" suffered from poor subtitling, and "The Dame's Afoot" strayed from its initial brief a little too far. But you have to keep trying. Baby steps.

The post-production facility is a bit of a bastard in hi-res, so I have to keep switching down to lo-res to make sure the subtitles and FX synch up okay. I've made it to the 1970s without disaster, being merely mediocre. It's a high-presure game, no doubt about it. Anyway, soon I shall be uploading "British Cop!" - a mis-matched buddy movie set on the San Francisco subway (I don't want to hear it), "Callum and Stephen's Laugh-In" - a farewell indulgence for one of my starriest stars, with hilarity a-plenty* and maybe "Dance All Evening" - a gritty kung-fu thriller with Thelma & Louise overtones.

*Exaggeration, may not be funny.

Hello, gorgeous.

<blink>

I'm back. Miss me? Or have you just quietly deleted me from your bookmarks (should I ever have been there)?

Well, you missed loads! Loads of stuff. I have some stories to tell, and I will tell them. But not yet. You're going to have to invent your own. Right now I want to sleep and play The Movies. AT THE SAME TIME!

Sadly, this is not possible. I suppose I must sleep. Unless I can't post this because I can't connect to blogger. Nooooo! So... very.. tired....

So, it has come to this.

We just set a reminder to watch Will and Grace. Kill me. Kill me now.

Excuse me, but..

..when did praline become the default filling for chocolates? Hmm? Why wasn't I consulted?

Oscar^TM night tonight. Won't be watching as it requires Sky Movies, but I have my fingers crossed for Brokeback in Best Film/Director and possibly actor and Reese for Best Actress.

More of my silly bear-based Photoshopping up on Flickr. Actually, Paintshopping. And I don't think it's as good as my last lot, but some fun anyway.

I'm not writing anything

If it helps. I'm not neglecting the blog on purpose. I'm just not writing. I can't, at the moment. For some reason. I'm finding the usual breezy sitting-at-a-keyboard thing really tough. I took a couple of days off work to write the other week and nothing happened at all!

In other news, Star Wars Lego rocks. The videogame and the actual real stuff. I mean, I've never really got into it because it's all specific-shaped bricks and that's counter-Lego, to me. But the minifigs are just darling.

It's all clear now.

It's not often I find myself in the position to register dissent via downloading a TV show, but times is funny. Tom "The Cruiser" Cruise does not want me to see the episode of South Park entitled "Trapped in the Closet". Why? Is it because of what it says about Scientology? Because it implies that he is perhaps... a gayer? Well, you know, I had to find out.

Half an hour later, I can say a few things. One, Matt Stone and Trey Parker are now officially Fair Game, though this is rather a high-profile episode and it might be a bit obvious... Two, Tom Cruise is a robust and confident heterosexual. Three, Tom Cruise is not gay. Four, Xenu is cool. Five, Tom Cruise has never looked at a man's arse in a sexual way, it would not cross his mind. Six, John Travolta actually comes out of this looking cool - after all, he was also in that closet with non-homosexual Tom Cruise and he did not get any part of the episode banned. Seven, I don't know what is wrong with us that we are not allowed to watch what America has already seen but whatever it is, we'll do our very best to make it right. Apart from anything else, we really enjoyed watching it on the internet.

I can tell you now that Flppy - who does not normally watch South Park - watched this episode with me. Thus the bannination of this show effectively doubled its ratings. In this house.

The birthday address 2006.

Good evening to you on this, the occasion of my 29th birthday. It is also the day that the biggest freakshow in town rumbles back to life - yes, Celebrity Big Brother is back and if it's as entertaining as its line-up promises (Barrymore! Rodman! Burns! Galloway!) I may actually watch some of it this year. You know I'm not a BB snob, but Celeb shows bore me so much. I care less about them than nobodies! For.. some reason.

Anyway, it's late. I meant to do this earlier, but there you go. I'm very disappointed in y'all not getting me anything. I have had a small bottle of wine from a work colleague. Oh, and from Flppy a Creative Zen Nano in bubblegum pink. Ha! Weren't expecting that, were you? Anyway, I gave her the same for her birthday but in black, so we swapped as She Is A Girl.

I spent last night (I unwrapped it at midnight LIKE A CHILD) loading tracks onto it. But, I mean, all the good stuff from the new Girls Aloud album and what more does a person need? I ended up desperately hunting through mp3s. "Oh, just bung a load of Nirvana on and go to bed!"

Incidentally, if you don't own Chemistry yet, you should. Go!