Get this stupid song by Justin Timberlake out of my head! It's been floating around my head for about 8 hours now, and this was made worse by the fact that one of the twinks had it as a ringtone for their texts tonight.
What's the giggling cracked out ferret sound in the chorus? Heee - ee- eee- ee- eee - eee....
Arrgh!
Two references to Duran Duran this week so far, and I'm running to get my hands on their Greatest Hits. Duran Duran is great! My sister Jan had a huge crush on them in the 80's, so it wasn't cool to like any band who your older sister has giant wall posters of. I missed out on some good music because of her. Why couldn't she have been all about the Judds like Amy?
The first reference to Duran Duran this week was in Layer Cake, where a guy beats the crap out of another guy to "Ordinary World" and I'm left thinking to myself, "why don't more people get beat nearly to death to Duran Duran songs?" Personally, if someone decides to give me a severe beating, I hope I hear "Come Undone" in the background.
The second reference came this afternoon from Syndie, telling me something about getting "No. No. Notorious!" I guessed the band, she was supposed to drink. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if she did or not, but it was 4:30 in the afternoon, so I'd feel like an alcoholic enabler if I was forcing her to drink dirty martinis before dinner.
Next karaoke session, I might stick with KT Tunstall, but I'm definitely dropping Pete Yorn for Duran Duran. Hells yeah.
For the discriminating shopper who wants to be hip, but much hipper than their hipster counterparts, I have discovered the Sketchel.
The Sketchel is a one-off specially art designed satchel that you can carry "a laptop or old vinyl in." (Their words, not mine.) It's actually pretty cool to think that for $150, you can get a special bag that you, and only you, will ever have. Well, you can get on if you have money, which I don't, due to two posts down. You get the picture.
Sketchels
Tonight reminded me that I'm crap when it comes to small venue entertainment. After our HIV/STD testing got canceled by the district health department, ironically due to their health issues, we had to come up with something to do for tonight.
The problem is that I can think of the elaborate things, but can't think of even a semi entertaining small scale thing to do. For the record, we ended up watching my copy of Layer Cake but our tv/dvd player at the GP space is messed up and you couldn't hear the dialogue through the music. It was frustrating as hell.
So I came up with a great idea for an elaborate Monday night event. (And no, you may not steal my idea for your future party... wanker.) I want to rent out the local old school skating rink one monday night, and have a Madonna "Confessions On the Dance Floor Concert" skate-o-rama party. Rolling around on old school skates while the Madonna concert is being projected on the walls sounds pretty kick ass to me. Hell, I might even whip out a purple leotard for the last part of the concert/skate party. Whoohoo!
They're mine! Finally, they're mine!
I've been drooling over Frye boots for a long time now, and have been tempted to order some online, even though I couldn't really afford it. Then, this weekend I came across a killer deal and got a pair of Frye's for less than 1/2 price! You never find Frye boots for less than 1/2 price!
Here's what they look like:
Yeah, these babies are smokin' hot.
Films that make you sympathetic for terrorists are hot. Urban terrorism a la Fight Club? Hell yeah... that was some glamorous terrorism.
Sadly, this was not the case for Catch A Fire, a film about a man in South Africa during the age of apartheid, who becomes a terrorist/freedumb fighter after he and his wife were kidnapped and tortured. It was the wife issue that really pushed him into terrorism. Apparently, them smacking his wife around a little was reason to grab a bomb or two. You can tell his rage about the wife issue because he howls with extra special anguish and double spittle this time. I think he was just pissed that they didn't have the decency to smack her around while wearing white tank tops and holding a Pabst Blue Ribbon. I know I'd go Rambo if someone smacked my wife around, and did a half-assed job like that. What, no Pabst? It's on!!
The guy, who I cared so little about I didn't even learn his name, moves to some country to join some terrorist group to blow up the Secunda factory. Hmm... on further reflection, I only remember the wife's name, Precious, because my friend's mother had an obnoxious poodle named Precious whom everybody hated. And it's sad I can remember the name of the factory, but not any character except the wifey with a dog's name. That's always a good sign that this was a bad movie.
So Mr. Terrorist plants a bomb and Tim Robbins chases him with bad clothes and some undiscernable/contantly switching accent. Then, Tim magically happens on the bomb and disarms it at the last second. They then catch Mr. Terrorist, and I'm thinking Tim Robbins' character is the hero of the movie. Nope. I was wrong. Suddenly there's some stupid epilogue about how Mr. Terrorist was sent to and released from prison and how he was somehow like Nelson Mandela, and then how he could have killed Tim Robbins, but valiantly doesn't... and then there's footage with the real man this story is based on... and suddenly I'm on the couch wondering what the hell happened to the end of this story, and why I actually watched all of this drivel. Damn, somehow I missed all the cues I was supposed to feel sympathetic towards this guy.
Catch a Fire? No thanks. I'd rather feel the burn from catching syphilis than watch that crap again.
I can't even begin to express how busy and stressful this week has been. I thought last week was bad, but it really doesn't compare to this week. Work, homework, class, projects, etc... it's been non-stop. I feel like I've ran a marathon and no one was even nice enough to provide Gatorade along the way.
Anyway, I've noticed that when you're really busy and can't be bothered... everyone feels the need to bother you. You'll get about 5 IM conversations going at the same time, two text messages, and two call-waiting calls on your cell phone. And during this time, you're trying to work with some damn photo in Photoshop for your book project. *sigh* It's just the way these things work out.
Then, when you're finally free for a bit and able to communicate like a normal human being... nothing. No texts, no phone calls, no IMs... nothing. You're stuck home alone watching Doctor Who waiting for people to respond to your communications while fighting off sleep because you were dumb and only got about 5 hours of sleep last night.
