hey man, indeed Pan's Labyrinth and Renaissance are both amazing, but in different ways. PL in particular... man, i am wary of superlatives, but it is pretty much flawless. the balance of fantasy and magic versus reality and gore is unique. it is beautiful but also very gruesome - like the classic fairy tales before they were de-Pagainsed, i suppose. Renaissance on the other hand is very nice but not as well-rounded, and the plot is a bit of a headache. see them both!
glad you liked the poem, 'Secret'. it is an old one that i just felt like posting for no reason, but judging by the feedback it is still potent. thanks.
Consideration for others is an admirable trait. Unfortunately, it seems to be something you know nothing about.
Playing louder doesn't make you any better. Perhaps master tuning, and maybe playing the right notes, and then maybe I wouldn't mind so much about the volume.
This made me laugh so hard and remember something myfriend once wrote...
"Open Letter
Dear Thieving Cunt,
It has come to my attention that some time between 11pm last night and 7am this morning, you took it upon yourself to borrow my lawnmower from the back of my utility vehicle. As you have not left your contact details, I assume that you do not intend to return it.
A few things may assist you in any further endeavours:
- It's a bit difficult on cold starts - you need to push the priming bubble a good 4 or 5 times, rather than the advertised 2.
- The throttle is best left at about half. After that, the governor does something funny and it revs up and down.
- Next time you steal a mower, you'd be better off taking the catcher too, you fucking retard.
Sleep with one eye open, motherfucker.
NH"
Thought you might enjoy it. Your letter is pure gold. I love it.
Perhaps slip a flyer for a music tutor in his mailbox?
For all of you so patiently waiting an explanation of the cryptic over the past couple of months, here it comes. And truth be told, the use of cryptic wasn't to be cryptic for cryptic's sake. Everything has a reason. A motive. Mine... Read More
You make me all laughing and happy. Which, recently, is a singularly stunning development.
Canberra, so far, is angry. This is a mathematically invalid description, as I appear to have taken all my information from the set containing things that are me (as if that were anything new).
I came here to get away from people and get some space. Instead, I have twenty six phone messages from my father over seven days. Clearly, he fears that my mother will kill me and leave me to die in an alleyway.
And my mother... GAH!
I had been under the misapprehension that there was no creature in the world as needy and whiny as my Luca. If only I'd known how wrong I was.
She says everything that comes into her mind. Immediately. She talks about me as though I were some prized fucking shetland, when I'm in the room no less. She wants to spend every fucking second of her day talking to me, whereas I want to spend every second of my day talking to absolutely fucking nobody. She's one of those people who knock on a door and then open it. She thinks she's entitled to make comment about everything, and that every aspect of my life should be determined by a comittee decision of her and I. *
I might kill her. No jury would convict me.
Also, Canberran folk are oppressively nice. This is irritating, on account of I don't enjoy having vapid strangers ask me invasive questions about my day to day life.
Also, Canberran water is made of chlorine, rather than water. My skin is so very frelled.
Apart from those minor grudges, I'm ok. I think it's too early to determine in these unpleasantnesses constitute a problem or not.
* Yes, yes, I've been known to do the comittee descision thing. Most recently, I think, with you and/or Ellie.
you're travelling? i love english pants. im a size twelve
what is toby doing?
oh i totally read that wrong, thought that someone asked for plenty of robots on your return, it said photos tho. still cool.
um wow england are they heatwaving for real? or is that the old fashioned regular whinging pom routine?
enjoy and see every single place on monopoly. even if its covered in bird poo (trafalgar square)
I've been thinking tonight about the difference between passion and obsession, and where one slips over the line and becomes the other. The engine driving this train of thought is a whole other topic, but before we get to that I want to share with you what I came up with.
Let us discuss - by way of example - Jim the sports fan. He... Read More
I think that I am passionate... but then sometimes I discover that I'm actually obsessed. Like now, when my boy is wanting me to go to bed and I am instead still checking my friends' journals.
I have been giving up for years.. I promise! Rufus Wainwright said it best when he told us about Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk...
I got onto the Captain Blacks a few months ago. More of a treat than anything.. But at the same time I think I must enjoy smelling like shit after a night out.. I have no idea.
Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Mostly by me. But then I do have the habit of becoming overly dramatic when sick. One bad flu and I'm all Last Will and Testament. Getting my affairs in order. I become Cameron.
"I'm dying."
"You're not dying, you just can't think of anything good to do."
So needless to say, my weekend was a bust.... Read More
What a perfect moment... well, really, what a perfect couple of days!! 
glad you liked the poem, 'Secret'. it is an old one that i just felt like posting for no reason, but judging by the feedback it is still potent. thanks.
operation twilight?