Is Charlie Dimmock a living metaphor for piss sex?

Well you try comming up with a decent string of word after being in the waking world for at least 30 hours. Things take on a different sheen al right. The best thing to do is just have a few beers and crank up the White Zombie to ear bleeding level and hope for the best.

Incidently I'm now the proud owner of a hardbacked first edition of Hey Rube, Hunter S Thompsons 'last' book before his tragic death. Backed up with a hardbacked editon of Fear and Loathing in America; vol2 of his letters and such.

I saw Revenge of the Sith today. Pretty good. it almost make up for the evil of the previous two films. Though I don't see why he didn't pick this period in Anakins life and stretch that out for three movies. Apparently you can fall to the dark side in the space of an afternoon.

Thats it for now, everythings fuzzy and pink.

Coffee and Cigarettes

I've never really managed to get the hang of smoking. I've smoked a bit in my time. Even flirted with cigars - which I can just about tolerate by the way - but smoking like a true believer has always passed me by. Perhaps I don't have the genes, or maybe my lungs are more advanced than most other peoples and have developed some kind of strange smoking immune system. Protecting themselves by making me ill. Either way its by the by.

Coffee! now there’s a drug I can readily get into my system. I'd happily drink the black bile of Zeus until the day they take away my liver. Even then I'd most likely find some other way to get my kicks. Adrenaline to the heart via a big fuck off needle perhaps. Well, just for starters at least. You might be wondering where this is all coming from. Surely these are words in the style of some queer acid freak. Possibly you're thinking some mad tramp put a wicked cocktail of speed and the crushed heart of a Silver Back Gorilla into my food and left me to scream into the night. You'd be wrong. I've just spent the day in cinematic heaven.

After spending the morning failing to find any interesting porn on the Internet (imagine such a thing) I de-evolved into re-kindling my love of film. Starting the hit with the classic 1953 Forbidden Planet starring Leslie Nielsen before his credibility got eaten away be a seemingly endless morass of evil comedy and inane Domino's Pizza ads. It also stars the surprisingly excellent Walter Pigeon as the suitable monikered 'Doctor Morbius'. Apparently the film is and interpretation of Billy Rattledaggers The Tempest, but since I've never read or seen it I guess that makes no difference to me. Forbidden Planet has always managed to captivate me, the acting is top notch and the special effects, even by today’s standards are fantastic. Its quite amazing what you can do with a matte painting and some drive. This film also marks the first appearance of the excellent Robbie the Robot. If you don't know who Robbie is I suggest you get your head out your arse and look him up in Wikipedia or something.

After the sci-fi goodness of Forbidden Planet I slowed it down with the classic (forgive my overuse of the word 'classic' but sometimes a word fits quite nicely) Vincent Price movie House of Wax, yes Stephen I did pick out this one because of the Wednesday 13 song 'The Ghost of Vincent Price'. Though in my own defence I have been meaning to see it for a while now. It goes without saying that Vincent Price is excellent here. The man is just captivating. There are only three actors who just seem to suck you into a horror film. They are Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing and Vincent Price. Interestingly enough he shares the same birthday as Christopher Lee (May 27) and Peter Cushing was born on May 26. Spooky eh? Anyway, House of Wax is great. Vincent Price exudes gothic horror and I doubt I could say anything that hasn't been said before about such a great man.

After a break for dinner and a chance to refocus my eyes on something that doesn't flicker at 24 frames per second, myself and the ever lovely (did you think I would say anything else?) Clodagh sat down to watch Sideways. Which was good, though I must admit to believing it was a little bit more of a ha ha comedy than it turned out to be. It was funny in the Lost in Translation and About Schmidt kind of way. Full of brilliant performances and little jokes that make you got 'That could be my life up there!!!' Strangely enough it makes you want to start drinking wine about halfway through. There must be some weird bastard subliminal advertising going on there. Hummm.

After that, well I watched, strangely enough, Coffee and Cigarettes. Best described as a series of vignettes starting a medley of actors and musicians. Perhaps I'm missing a point, but I didn't get it. Though it was wildly funny to see Tom Waits telling Iggy Pop that he was late because he had to perform roadside surgery and deliver a baby. I actually had a lot more to say here about this film but Blog Spot decided to eat it when I tried to check the spelling and I can't remember what I said so lets move on.

You may notice there is a new link, it leads to the blog of the most excellent Coop! Those of you who have frequented my house may have seen his book 'The Devils Advocate' which has the classic smoking Satan on the cover. I've been a big fan of his art for about 7 or 8 years now and was nearly orgasmically happy when I managed to get that book (not an easy thing on this side of the Atlantic). He even responded to my admittedly poor and fan-ish comment on his blog. Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy.

That’s it for now, I’m off to drown a child.

Davros Must Be Destroyed

Yo, I just finished watching 'Genesis of the Daleks' - a classic piece of Doctor Who televisual brilliance. It was even edited to remove the episode breaks so it was like watching one big Doctor Who movie. Except without Paul 'I' McGann or Peter 'Grand Moff Tarkin' Cushing. Tis all good.

As you can see from looking about my blog I've joined AdSense. Prepare to be enticed by marketing genius. Or more likely by utter pap.

Theres also a hit counter there as well which depressingly shows me how few people actually read this stuff.

Ah Declan, fret ye not me old amigo. I'll have your book and washing stuff sent up as soon as the winds turn in my favour. You'll have your things back before you can say Smegma.

Indeed, I saw Sin City and am in better form to talk about it. From a visual aspect its stunning, the images seem to bleed from the screen. As far as sticking close to the source goes it does so with ease. Having read some of the Graphic Novels I can safely say its damned faithful. Acting wise its good too. Though the acting is understandably cheesey in some respects, but in a cheesey comic book monolgue kinda way. The fact that theres three story lines a'la 'Pulp Fiction' isn't disconcerting or anything, but because of their nature and because they are cramming so much in, for me anyway, it makes the film seem not like a film. More like they deliberatly edited them up so as to stretch out the film. It'd be beter if they were just played in order and un-chopped up. But I don't make movies so what do I know? Interestingly the film is dominated by gravelly voiced people. Sonically its like listening to cement mixers.

8 out of 10.

I think I'll listen to the voice in my head and gun down the pope......errr...i mean go to sleep, yeah thats it sleep....

zzzzzz...must. kill. Pope.

...wasn't in the cellar....

Greetings foul fiends and other lurkers of the Internet. How goes it? Things go well here.

This week I've:

Worked.

And thats pretty much it. Sucks doesn't it? Oh well. in other news I saw the excellent Sin City (on an unrelated note the Internet is great). Tis a good film, well worth seeing (fear not, the cinema will get their money from me) though it has one flaw........in that it sometimes doesn't seem like a film, more of a set of viginettes and stuff. Though thats just my opinion.

Just ordered some Hunter S. Thompson books from Amazon. God I wish he wasn't dead.

I find myself in a funny mood today. Quite tired. I had planned on writing more, but Im fatigued and hungry.

Later Peeps

Long Grain Rice

Greets chums, I was dreading some kind of bloggers block (doesn't that sound like constipation?) when I came to type this, but it appears to have cleared up.

I planned update this most excellent of all blogs over the weekend, but Clodagh's's's's(s?) parents came to visit so I didn't a chance to locate a suitable internet-imporium.

Good news! My much talked about new computer should be here in a couple of days. Though I am a little wary about hooking it up to the Internet. I think it could start WW3 (wet washing three that is).

Did you see Doctor Who this weekend? Fucking fantastic! You can never really go wrong when you mix The Doctor and some Daleks. Exterminate! EXTERMINATE!! Oh so good.

I bought Oldboy on DVD and scarred Clo's mind by watching it last night (such a great film in every respect).

I'd like to assure Mr Superflywebpimp Esq that my move was as smooth as a porn stars genitals. Luckily no Hellraiser-esq raising of Uncle Frank-like events occured and we are now firmly ensconced in suburbia. We'll be having some kind of house heating shin-dig over the weekend, so all our friends can come over and spill things on the carpet etc...

Moving on you'll notice I've joined Irish Blogs. Mainly because I'm in Ireland so that helps, and also cause Stephen recommended it. Its a thing we do, I got him to join a cult (the Universal Life Church so we could be Reverends) so I join almost anything he sticks in my Inbox (oo-er).

Oh well, I've dried up like an aged spinster, so I'm off to get some food.

Fear the banana...