Yes, you read it right. Overrated is in fact an understatement for this jumbled mass of blurring images and meaningless scenes.
The introduction - if you could call it an introduction - was confusing to begin with. So our man Leo's on a beach, choking on the salt water when he is approached by an Asian guard packing heat who prods him as you would the dead body in the drainpipe near your house. That's alright, I can deal with that, it'll probably soon be explained how he got there and where he came from. GUESS AGAIN, SHERLOCK!
You have to wait 2 hrs before you find out he magically landed there via a dream, then you wonder if he was ever there at all? He proceeds to talk to this old man that nobody seems to know about something that everyone is presumed to understand. This is followed by an insane chase scene wearing tuxedos with loud ear-bursting rumbles and gunfire before he and another guy wake up in a seedy room somewhere (is it Spain? I already zoned out) where an army of people are charging for their hideout for NO APPARENT REASON OTHER THAN TO ATTACK THEM!!
The movie then meanders through another 40 mins of nonsense while this ridiculous scheme is hatched using the girl from Juno who just doesn't pull off the part. She is a starry eyed tween who catches on to this dream weaving thing quicker than DiCaprio catches on to the concept of diversity in his roles. Finally we get to this scene where it's obvious the effects are the main drawcard as there is no real direction at all for 10 mins.
Finally, the last thing I'd even credit in this movie is the ending. It was to me like many of my essays, where I've spent days churning out complete and utter rubbish which is credit standard at best and in no apparent structure before capping it off with this really inspiring conclusion that I hope will enchant the marker enough to make them forget the rest of the essay and just take the conclusion home with them. Well I'll tell you what, Director Christopher Nolan, it didn't work for the markers and it didn't work for me, you hack! I remembered the rest of the movie (at least the part I was awake for). God knows I was given no chance of remembering whatever shade of a plot there was, but I remembered how terrible the movie was, and your 'mindblowing' final scene did nothing to erase the scarring suffered from those 2 hrs of my life I will never get back.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Please, just win it Collingwood?
So it's upon us again. The AFL Finals series and yet again, Collingwood is featuring as the toothless tiger challenger they have been since 1958.
While I have every hope the Pies will go all the way this year, you just can't ignore history. If I had a dollar for every time somone complained about Collingwood losing a final or for when someone uttered that dreadful mutation 'Colliwobbles', well I wouldn't be writing this blog.
The young, naive Maggies faithful will tell you this is the year - Minor Premiers, 13-4-1, even spread of talent with our once numero uno ruckman battling it out in the magoos every weekend...what could go wrong? I'll tell you. 1977.
The siren was seconds away, it looked as though the Piemen were headed for another heartbreaking defeat in the Big Daddy. Suddenly, Ross 'Twiggy' Dunne stood tall and took a pack mark for the ages. As that train horn that has cursed as many teams as it has blessed drew nearer, Twiggy calmly slotted the shot and the scores were tied. Maybe this was the year? Maybe, after 4 Grand Final losses since 1958, this was the on- BRAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!
A draw? A frigging draw?
As the players sat dejected on the field, silence sweeping over the crowd, murmurs began about where they went from here? It was the first drawn Grand Final since 1948. There would be a replay in a week's time, one of the very few Grand Finals that broke the tradition of being held on the last Saturday in September. At that match, there were 10,000 people less than the first Grand Final, but the figure was still a whopping 98,366. The second time around, the Pies were more determined and more accurate. They kicked 19.10 (124). The only problem was, North Melbourne kicked 21.25 (151). They'd blown it again.
That fateful year, Collingwood finished as Minor Premiers. Am I saying that the Magpies will draw the Grand Final again? No. What I'm saying is that in Pieland, Minor Premierships mean nothing. We've only won the bloody thing six times. Random stat: Collingwood holds the record for most times Runners-Up with 25.
But what about 1990, you ask? Well 1990 was a good year. But one must not forget the fortune that fell our way in the drawn Qualifying Final with West Coast. They were a pretty tired outfit by the second week and, being on the other side of the country, their plans were thrown severely out of whack. Also, by the Grand Final, Essendon were coming off a smashing by us, then a smashing of (guess who) West Coast. This meant that not only had they ridden a rollercoaster of form, but they had not really had a chance to test themselves in the two matches they played. They weren't ready for a Grand Final. Well that day they looked pretty ready. Paul 'The Big Fish' Salmon marked several times in the 50 early on. But one wonders what the story would have been if he had not squandered his opportunities in front of goal later on in the match. As the joke runs:
Q. "Who kicked five goals in the 1990 Grand Final?"
A. "Essendon".
But this year, who knows what will become of the Mighty, mighty Magpie Machine? They could win it all, or crash out spectacularly in straight sets. Only time shall tell.
While I have every hope the Pies will go all the way this year, you just can't ignore history. If I had a dollar for every time somone complained about Collingwood losing a final or for when someone uttered that dreadful mutation 'Colliwobbles', well I wouldn't be writing this blog.
The young, naive Maggies faithful will tell you this is the year - Minor Premiers, 13-4-1, even spread of talent with our once numero uno ruckman battling it out in the magoos every weekend...what could go wrong? I'll tell you. 1977.
The siren was seconds away, it looked as though the Piemen were headed for another heartbreaking defeat in the Big Daddy. Suddenly, Ross 'Twiggy' Dunne stood tall and took a pack mark for the ages. As that train horn that has cursed as many teams as it has blessed drew nearer, Twiggy calmly slotted the shot and the scores were tied. Maybe this was the year? Maybe, after 4 Grand Final losses since 1958, this was the on- BRAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!
A draw? A frigging draw?
As the players sat dejected on the field, silence sweeping over the crowd, murmurs began about where they went from here? It was the first drawn Grand Final since 1948. There would be a replay in a week's time, one of the very few Grand Finals that broke the tradition of being held on the last Saturday in September. At that match, there were 10,000 people less than the first Grand Final, but the figure was still a whopping 98,366. The second time around, the Pies were more determined and more accurate. They kicked 19.10 (124). The only problem was, North Melbourne kicked 21.25 (151). They'd blown it again.
That fateful year, Collingwood finished as Minor Premiers. Am I saying that the Magpies will draw the Grand Final again? No. What I'm saying is that in Pieland, Minor Premierships mean nothing. We've only won the bloody thing six times. Random stat: Collingwood holds the record for most times Runners-Up with 25.
But what about 1990, you ask? Well 1990 was a good year. But one must not forget the fortune that fell our way in the drawn Qualifying Final with West Coast. They were a pretty tired outfit by the second week and, being on the other side of the country, their plans were thrown severely out of whack. Also, by the Grand Final, Essendon were coming off a smashing by us, then a smashing of (guess who) West Coast. This meant that not only had they ridden a rollercoaster of form, but they had not really had a chance to test themselves in the two matches they played. They weren't ready for a Grand Final. Well that day they looked pretty ready. Paul 'The Big Fish' Salmon marked several times in the 50 early on. But one wonders what the story would have been if he had not squandered his opportunities in front of goal later on in the match. As the joke runs:
Q. "Who kicked five goals in the 1990 Grand Final?"
A. "Essendon".
But this year, who knows what will become of the Mighty, mighty Magpie Machine? They could win it all, or crash out spectacularly in straight sets. Only time shall tell.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
I haven't contributed to this blog in a while because I've been doing stupid uni work which often involves blogs because, for some stupid reason, they think blogs are an appropriate way of communicating to others. HA! As if!
So I thought I'd prove the old University lecturers wrong by gauging just how appropriate this method of communication is if it's conducted in a language thoroughly foreign in every way to the intended audience. So here goes:
Ek het gedink ek sou die res van my blog in Afrikaans te skryf, want dit is 'n snaakse mutaton van die Nederlandse en iets soos Zoeloe of' n shit. Dit klink so cool as jy dit hoor Ek het eintlik gepraat en geniet die luister na Suid-Afrikaners praat, want die aksent is snaaks. Tensy dit is die rugby of krieket. En ek haat dit, want dit is net so bevooroordeeld! Wow wat 'n wonderlike woord: bevooroordeeld.
Dit moet die beste doen vir nou, die Afrikanns begin om my te raak! Sterkte dit vertaal, losers!
So I thought I'd prove the old University lecturers wrong by gauging just how appropriate this method of communication is if it's conducted in a language thoroughly foreign in every way to the intended audience. So here goes:
Ek het gedink ek sou die res van my blog in Afrikaans te skryf, want dit is 'n snaakse mutaton van die Nederlandse en iets soos Zoeloe of' n shit. Dit klink so cool as jy dit hoor Ek het eintlik gepraat en geniet die luister na Suid-Afrikaners praat, want die aksent is snaaks. Tensy dit is die rugby of krieket. En ek haat dit, want dit is net so bevooroordeeld! Wow wat 'n wonderlike woord: bevooroordeeld.
Dit moet die beste doen vir nou, die Afrikanns begin om my te raak! Sterkte dit vertaal, losers!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Panthers Worst Ever Loss......Ever.
It was a dark night. A little nippy but good for mid-July. We were making our way from Jono's car (The Shaggin Wagon) to the gates of CUA Stadium, our hearts filled with hope, our minds full of images of players darting about scoring, tackling, kicking - the possibilities! I should explain that we is Jono, Gary, Jimmy and Yours Truly. Of the small group we had one Bulldogs fan, two Panthers fans and an Eels follower.
As we wandered across the car park at Aqua Golf toward the streaming traffic of Mulgoa Rd, I happened to pass a young boy and his father. The two were wearing Eels paraphenalia but I was so confident of a Panthers win, I gave the little fella a friendly ribbing "Go the Panthers!!", to which the tyke replied "mind your own f***ing business, ya Mountains gronk!" Astonished, but not to be deterred, I rejoined the guys and we headed for the gates.
Upon arriving at what I refer to as the "Gates of Heaven", we began to arrange how we would rip the club off by buying illegitimate concession tickets. As it would happen, they had long stopped accepting NRL players cards (of which we are also not entitled) due to the sheer enormity of the swelling crowd. We were forced to buy tickets, and luckily enough, we joined a free-flowing line reminiscent of 'The Soup Nazi' episode of Seinfeld. One jerk was yelling into one of the ticket booths about not being allowed in on what I suspect was his junior players card...what did he expect? He was at least 56, he was fooling no one.
Well could we have hoped for a better start? The short answer to that question is no. Penrith raced away to a seemingly insurmountable 6-0 lead only two minutes into the contest and I was sure I saw a couple of Parra 'fans' headed for their cars to 'beat the traffic'. If we thought that start was good, the Panthers piled on another 16 points (including a Michael Jennings swoop on a loose ball and 80m dash) to make it a 22-0 lead only half an hour into the first half. That's where the nightmare started. In the final 10 minutes of the first half, Parramatta scored two very quick, very soft tries from poor Penrith defence. At half time, the score was 22-12 and the slimy buggers had a sniff.
The second half was one of the worst experiences of my life. Penrith scored a solitary try to the Eels' four. When the score became 22-24 to the Parramatta side, I knew it was over. While as a fan of any football team, you always try to remain positive and adhere to the golden rule (ALWAYS stay till the final siren), there are some games, when you just know it's over. Like the time Penrith trailed Canberra by 54 points late in the second half, it's just not happening, bud.
When that self-obsessed moron Jarryd Hayne scored a break away try (because our fullback had followed up a kick and was therefore out of position), it was hasta la vista baby.
Penrith scored a miserable consolation try which should have given us a sniff, but the sniff was snuffed out when Justin 'Mask of' Horo streaked away and scored in the corner. It was a dismal showing by the Mountain Men in front of a ground-record 22,500 fans that showed up.
I was in the worst position of all, having absolutely dished it out to Parramatta supporters around me for half an hour. I had to stand there with my arms folded and my mouth shut and take it. It was a horrible night. We wandered across to Panthers afterwards where the players showed up for a corporate post-game function. The boys looked pretty dapper in their suits. I saluted Luke Lewis, he cordially responded with a grin and a salute. We both knew the drill.
They say a week is a long time in sport. Let's f***ing hope so because we've got the Storm in Melbourne and frankly, I'm feeling a good old fashioned shellacking is on the cards if the Men in Black don't turn things around!
This blog proudly brought to you by CrockerSchitt Productions.
As we wandered across the car park at Aqua Golf toward the streaming traffic of Mulgoa Rd, I happened to pass a young boy and his father. The two were wearing Eels paraphenalia but I was so confident of a Panthers win, I gave the little fella a friendly ribbing "Go the Panthers!!", to which the tyke replied "mind your own f***ing business, ya Mountains gronk!" Astonished, but not to be deterred, I rejoined the guys and we headed for the gates.
Upon arriving at what I refer to as the "Gates of Heaven", we began to arrange how we would rip the club off by buying illegitimate concession tickets. As it would happen, they had long stopped accepting NRL players cards (of which we are also not entitled) due to the sheer enormity of the swelling crowd. We were forced to buy tickets, and luckily enough, we joined a free-flowing line reminiscent of 'The Soup Nazi' episode of Seinfeld. One jerk was yelling into one of the ticket booths about not being allowed in on what I suspect was his junior players card...what did he expect? He was at least 56, he was fooling no one.
Well could we have hoped for a better start? The short answer to that question is no. Penrith raced away to a seemingly insurmountable 6-0 lead only two minutes into the contest and I was sure I saw a couple of Parra 'fans' headed for their cars to 'beat the traffic'. If we thought that start was good, the Panthers piled on another 16 points (including a Michael Jennings swoop on a loose ball and 80m dash) to make it a 22-0 lead only half an hour into the first half. That's where the nightmare started. In the final 10 minutes of the first half, Parramatta scored two very quick, very soft tries from poor Penrith defence. At half time, the score was 22-12 and the slimy buggers had a sniff.
The second half was one of the worst experiences of my life. Penrith scored a solitary try to the Eels' four. When the score became 22-24 to the Parramatta side, I knew it was over. While as a fan of any football team, you always try to remain positive and adhere to the golden rule (ALWAYS stay till the final siren), there are some games, when you just know it's over. Like the time Penrith trailed Canberra by 54 points late in the second half, it's just not happening, bud.
When that self-obsessed moron Jarryd Hayne scored a break away try (because our fullback had followed up a kick and was therefore out of position), it was hasta la vista baby.
Penrith scored a miserable consolation try which should have given us a sniff, but the sniff was snuffed out when Justin 'Mask of' Horo streaked away and scored in the corner. It was a dismal showing by the Mountain Men in front of a ground-record 22,500 fans that showed up.
I was in the worst position of all, having absolutely dished it out to Parramatta supporters around me for half an hour. I had to stand there with my arms folded and my mouth shut and take it. It was a horrible night. We wandered across to Panthers afterwards where the players showed up for a corporate post-game function. The boys looked pretty dapper in their suits. I saluted Luke Lewis, he cordially responded with a grin and a salute. We both knew the drill.
They say a week is a long time in sport. Let's f***ing hope so because we've got the Storm in Melbourne and frankly, I'm feeling a good old fashioned shellacking is on the cards if the Men in Black don't turn things around!
This blog proudly brought to you by CrockerSchitt Productions.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Interview with the Vampire (The Count from Sesame Street)
One of my loyal followers and cousin, Chris told me the other day of an interview he conducted with himself on his own blog. This gave me a much less interesting, less original and far less glamorous idea to conduct interviews with other celebrities on my blog. Because this was Chris' idea (patent pending - I can still steal it), I plan on only doing one every month or so.
To start with, I got in contact with a very popular Sesame Street character, The Count. A likeable fellow with a quirky sense of humour, delivered in a thick Romanian accent, The Count proved quite the challenge to interview, as you'll learn frustratingly.
Matt: Count, if that is your real name, it's great to have you on my blog today, thanks for joining us.
Count: Ahh yes, in fact my name is Count Robert Von Trapp ... that's VUN-TWO! TWO Ps!!
Matt: Hmm yes, quite. So how have you been and how is life on Sesame Street? What are you doing with yourself these days?
Count: Well, you know just taking it easy in my old age...I've just celebrated my 56th Birthday ... that's VUN-TWO-THREE-FOU...-
Matt: 56, yes that's ok we don't need the whole shebang. 56, that's a good age, are you healthy?
Count: Yes, yes very healthy. I've gotten used to the pollution on Sesame Street. And I've gotten into running now too.
Matt: Well that's great to hear. So tell me, your job on Sesame Street has been for years just to count various things, does that ever get tiring or boring?
Count: It gets tiring but never boring. I believe God put me on this Earth to do one thing and one thing only, and that is to count.
Matt: Try and keep the religious references to a minimum there, Bob, cheers. Well that sounds good, how do you keep getting up day after day though? What keeps you motivated?
Count: Well Matt it's really quite simple. I have three beautiful children. That's VUN-TW-
Matt: Ah you've been warned about that..
Count: Sorry, sorry yes. I have three children and they are just fantastic. They keep me going. When I am doing my thing counting on The Street, I think of my woman and the little ones.
Matt: "The Street"? Is that the 'hip' name for Sesame Street?
Count: Yes it is. Anyone who works or lives there refers to it as The Street, it's fairly common.
Matt: Ok then. You mentioned the little ones, and you're now 56, did you start late? Or did you adopt or something?
Count: Well we happened to adopt yes, is that entirely relevant?
Matt: Just a point of interest, sorry. Where to now for The Count, though? What are your plans for the next 56 years?
Count: I intend to retire and move to the country before too long, buy a farm in Iowa or something like that. I have a fair bit of super saved up and I just want to be somewhere where I can count in peace.
Matt: Count in peace? Will you ever give up the counting gig?
Count: No I don't think so. I'm only good at three things: cooking; farming and counting. THAT'S THREE!! THREE THI-
Matt: Count, thankyou for your time.
To start with, I got in contact with a very popular Sesame Street character, The Count. A likeable fellow with a quirky sense of humour, delivered in a thick Romanian accent, The Count proved quite the challenge to interview, as you'll learn frustratingly.
Matt: Count, if that is your real name, it's great to have you on my blog today, thanks for joining us.
Count: Ahh yes, in fact my name is Count Robert Von Trapp ... that's VUN-TWO! TWO Ps!!
Matt: Hmm yes, quite. So how have you been and how is life on Sesame Street? What are you doing with yourself these days?
Count: Well, you know just taking it easy in my old age...I've just celebrated my 56th Birthday ... that's VUN-TWO-THREE-FOU...-
Matt: 56, yes that's ok we don't need the whole shebang. 56, that's a good age, are you healthy?
Count: Yes, yes very healthy. I've gotten used to the pollution on Sesame Street. And I've gotten into running now too.
Matt: Well that's great to hear. So tell me, your job on Sesame Street has been for years just to count various things, does that ever get tiring or boring?
Count: It gets tiring but never boring. I believe God put me on this Earth to do one thing and one thing only, and that is to count.
Matt: Try and keep the religious references to a minimum there, Bob, cheers. Well that sounds good, how do you keep getting up day after day though? What keeps you motivated?
Count: Well Matt it's really quite simple. I have three beautiful children. That's VUN-TW-
Matt: Ah you've been warned about that..
Count: Sorry, sorry yes. I have three children and they are just fantastic. They keep me going. When I am doing my thing counting on The Street, I think of my woman and the little ones.
Matt: "The Street"? Is that the 'hip' name for Sesame Street?
Count: Yes it is. Anyone who works or lives there refers to it as The Street, it's fairly common.
Matt: Ok then. You mentioned the little ones, and you're now 56, did you start late? Or did you adopt or something?
Count: Well we happened to adopt yes, is that entirely relevant?
Matt: Just a point of interest, sorry. Where to now for The Count, though? What are your plans for the next 56 years?
Count: I intend to retire and move to the country before too long, buy a farm in Iowa or something like that. I have a fair bit of super saved up and I just want to be somewhere where I can count in peace.
Matt: Count in peace? Will you ever give up the counting gig?
Count: No I don't think so. I'm only good at three things: cooking; farming and counting. THAT'S THREE!! THREE THI-
Matt: Count, thankyou for your time.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The Billy Crystal Scale: A Guide to the Instant Message Laugh
I know what you're thinking. "I didn't know there was a difference?" Well yes, there is. I am here to show you the multi-faceted hierarchy of laughing in an instant message. For the sake of this post, I will refer to Facebook as the example.
When engaged in an instant message conversation, there are several tiers of laughter - from tears of laughter, to a very short and sharp scoff. They make up 'The Billy Crystal Scale':
Level 1: "Ha."
This is the most cutting of all laughs as the teller of the joke immediately knows it was either not funny, or it was offensive. A "Ha." can never be positive. More often than not, the single syllabic scoff is a sign of tiredness, apathy or of being unimpressed. However, it does display a certain courtesy and willingness not to insult the joke teller.
Level 2: "lol" or "lolz"
The level two laugh is in no way negative. It is a huge step up from "Ha." as it implies the user or recipient of the joke "laughed out loud" as it were. What makes this such a lowly form of laughter is its overuse by almost every patron of instant messaging. "lol" either precedes or follows almost every sentence with any hint of humour and will often be used as a softener or an invite to the recipient that the user is joking and it is ok to laugh. Has been known to be used in awkward situations as well. Those who use it in real life conversation are often ostracised and/or publicly mocked.
Level 3: "Haha"
This one is used less frequently than "lol" and therefore carries more weight. Rarely is a "haha" ever a lie. Mostly, when one says "haha" in an instant messaging conversation, they really have laughed or at least had a chuckle. Can be a mood breaker like "lol" and has been known to be alternatively spelt "baha", which implies more raucus laughter but not necessarily more authentic. Choice of spelling is at the discretion of the laugher.
Level 4: "rofl", "lmao", "roflmao", "lmfao", "roflmfao"etc.
Cheap acronyms that vary in use and meaning. All have a generic underlying tone and that is of severe exaggeration. One has never been known to drop to the ground and laugh one's backside off. It just doesn't happen. Still carries more authority than "haha" simply because of the effort of finding the keys and the risk of sounding like a moron. Again, choice of phrase is at user's discretion.
Level 5: "LOL" or "HAHA"
Carry the same significance ideally. One is said to have genuinely laughed in this instance, although no proof has ever been put forward. The capitalisation of the letters suggests more enjoyment of a joke than when in lower case. Also, there may be an element of congratulations on the wit and inteligence of a particular observation or joke when a Level 5 is utilised.
Level 6: "Hahaha"
The first concrete evidence of genuine real-time laughter. The 'Trifecta', as it is affectionately known, is used in situations where the joke has at least enticed an audible chuckle. This is evidenced by the addition of an extra "ha". The only instance where one might encounter the 'trifecta' without the user actually laughing is when dealing with a sociopath. "Bahaha" also fits the Level 6 category.
Level 7: "Hahahaha"
The big one. That is one funny joke you got there, bud. The 'Quaddie' is only ripped out when absolutely necessary to avoid phrases like "gee, it wasn't that funny" and "you OK?"
When someone adds four "ha"s after a joke, you know it was hilarious, ingenious, or both.
Level 8: "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha"
We call this one 'Le Schizophrène'. This means one of two things. Either you should be hosting the Oscars, or Goulburn SuperMax gave Ivan Milat a computer. Be very wary when confronted with 'Le Schizophrène'. Try not to be lured into the trap of thinking you're the Mel Brooks of Instant Messaging, because before you know it, you'll be back at "Ha." so fast that your internet connection won't handle it, and neither will you.
So take a clue, Chuckles, quit while you're ahead. One you get the 'Quaddie', ease off a bit, hit them with a few Level 5 wisecracks and then work your way back up again. Too many comics have learnt the hard way that once you hit the dizzying heights of the Crystal Scale, you can only go down.
Happy Joking!
When engaged in an instant message conversation, there are several tiers of laughter - from tears of laughter, to a very short and sharp scoff. They make up 'The Billy Crystal Scale':
Level 1: "Ha."
This is the most cutting of all laughs as the teller of the joke immediately knows it was either not funny, or it was offensive. A "Ha." can never be positive. More often than not, the single syllabic scoff is a sign of tiredness, apathy or of being unimpressed. However, it does display a certain courtesy and willingness not to insult the joke teller.
Level 2: "lol" or "lolz"
The level two laugh is in no way negative. It is a huge step up from "Ha." as it implies the user or recipient of the joke "laughed out loud" as it were. What makes this such a lowly form of laughter is its overuse by almost every patron of instant messaging. "lol" either precedes or follows almost every sentence with any hint of humour and will often be used as a softener or an invite to the recipient that the user is joking and it is ok to laugh. Has been known to be used in awkward situations as well. Those who use it in real life conversation are often ostracised and/or publicly mocked.
Level 3: "Haha"
This one is used less frequently than "lol" and therefore carries more weight. Rarely is a "haha" ever a lie. Mostly, when one says "haha" in an instant messaging conversation, they really have laughed or at least had a chuckle. Can be a mood breaker like "lol" and has been known to be alternatively spelt "baha", which implies more raucus laughter but not necessarily more authentic. Choice of spelling is at the discretion of the laugher.
Level 4: "rofl", "lmao", "roflmao", "lmfao", "roflmfao"etc.
Cheap acronyms that vary in use and meaning. All have a generic underlying tone and that is of severe exaggeration. One has never been known to drop to the ground and laugh one's backside off. It just doesn't happen. Still carries more authority than "haha" simply because of the effort of finding the keys and the risk of sounding like a moron. Again, choice of phrase is at user's discretion.
Level 5: "LOL" or "HAHA"
Carry the same significance ideally. One is said to have genuinely laughed in this instance, although no proof has ever been put forward. The capitalisation of the letters suggests more enjoyment of a joke than when in lower case. Also, there may be an element of congratulations on the wit and inteligence of a particular observation or joke when a Level 5 is utilised.
Level 6: "Hahaha"
The first concrete evidence of genuine real-time laughter. The 'Trifecta', as it is affectionately known, is used in situations where the joke has at least enticed an audible chuckle. This is evidenced by the addition of an extra "ha". The only instance where one might encounter the 'trifecta' without the user actually laughing is when dealing with a sociopath. "Bahaha" also fits the Level 6 category.
Level 7: "Hahahaha"
The big one. That is one funny joke you got there, bud. The 'Quaddie' is only ripped out when absolutely necessary to avoid phrases like "gee, it wasn't that funny" and "you OK?"
When someone adds four "ha"s after a joke, you know it was hilarious, ingenious, or both.
Level 8: "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha"
We call this one 'Le Schizophrène'. This means one of two things. Either you should be hosting the Oscars, or Goulburn SuperMax gave Ivan Milat a computer. Be very wary when confronted with 'Le Schizophrène'. Try not to be lured into the trap of thinking you're the Mel Brooks of Instant Messaging, because before you know it, you'll be back at "Ha." so fast that your internet connection won't handle it, and neither will you.
So take a clue, Chuckles, quit while you're ahead. One you get the 'Quaddie', ease off a bit, hit them with a few Level 5 wisecracks and then work your way back up again. Too many comics have learnt the hard way that once you hit the dizzying heights of the Crystal Scale, you can only go down.
Happy Joking!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
10 Greatest Rugby League Teams of All Time (warning, do not read if you feel like laughing)
I have wanted to do this for so long, and now I officially can. A list of the 10 best ever Australian rugby league teams.
10. 1995 Manly Sea Eagles - One of the best teams to fall at the final hurdle, Manly lost only two games in 1995 and topped the table with a points differential of +439. In a season that included some of the biggest stars of the modern era, Manly dominated but when the finals came around, they appeared burnt-out. They stumbled into the Preliminary Final with a four point win over Cronulla before holding Newcastle to one try in a 12-4 win. In the Grand Final, Manly just couldn't match the intensity of the Bulldogs with rookie Steve Price leading the way, and choked when it mattered most, held tryless in a 17-4 defeat. While the pain was immense, it was soon forgotten as they won the next year.
9. 2004 Canterbury Bulldogs - Made up for the disappointment of 2002 by winning 19 of their 24 games. The Dogs finished 2nd on the ladder behind the Sydney Roosters on points differential, but outscored them by 50 points. In a season highlighted by a 40-12 win over the Roosters, the Dogs went on to beat their counterparts 16-13 in the Grand Final after beating the reigning Premiers Penrith in the Preliminary.
8. 1917 Balmain Tigers - Conceded just nine tries in a 14 game season, of which they won 13. The Tigers finished 8 points clear of South Sydney on the first-past-the-post ladder.
7. 2001 Parramatta Eels - The greatest team to never win a Premiership. The 2001 Eels hold the record for the most points scored in a season with a titanic 839 and losing only 4 games along the way. With Jason Taylor scoring 265 points and Brett Hodgson running in 17 tries, the Eels were unstoppable in a season highlighted by a 40-0 thrashing of the team they would meet in the Grand Final that year - Newcastle - in round 17. The Eels waltzed into the Preliminary Final by thumping Warriors 56-12 in the Qualifying round, before marching into the Grand Final by putting Brisbane away 24-16. It was assumed the Eels just had to show up to the 2001 Grand Final and they would be crowned Premiers. However, no one told Newcastle who created one of the greatest Grand Final upsets of all time and won 30-24.
6. 1951 South Sydney Rabbitohs - One of only three teams to be 1st on the ladder for the entire season. South Sydney lost one game in 1951 and finished 11 points ahead of Manly on the ladder. After being walloped by St. George in the Major Semi Final 35-8, the Bunnies thanked their lucky stars when Manly took care of the Dragons in the Preliminary Final, and Souths went on to win the Grand Final 42-14 against the Sea Eagles.
5. 1925 South Sydney Rabbitohs - The only team in Australian rugby league history to win every game in a season. Souths went 12-0 in 1925 and were rarely challenged. A first-past-the-post system was in effect in 1925 so there were no finals.
4. 1982 Parramatta Eels - This year was not particularly spectacular for Parramatta, but was the pinnacle of their 4 Premierships in the 1980s. They won 21 of 26 matches scoring 619 points - 4 games clear and 80 points more than their nearest rival Manly. The Eels had a multitude of stars including Sterling, Kenny, Grothe, Cronin, Price, Edge and Ella. The Eels responded to a 20-0 loss to Manly in the Major semi by thumping Easts 33-0 and then beating Manly in the big one 21-8.
3. 1975 Eastern Suburbs - The Roosters lost just two games in 1975, winning 18 straight games to finish the season and have often been claimed the best team of all time. With Artie Beetson as captain, the Roosters scraped home in a few of their games by a solitary point, while winning a lot of their back half games by in excess of 18 points. They won the Grand Final 38-0 against St. George which for 33 years remained the biggest winning margin in Grand Finals.
2. 1935 Eastern Suburbs - Lost just one game and scored 599 points (avg. 37.4/game) with only 157 against for a whopping +442 point differential. On the back of winger Dave Brown's still-record 38 tries and 65 goals, the Roosters ploughed through 1935, thrashing Canterbury in one game 87-7. They won the Grand Final 19-3 vs. Souths. Could challenge for the number 1 spot.
1. 1958 St. George Dragons - This is the most dominant team of the most dominant dynasty in rugby league history. The Dragons won 11 straight premierships from 1956-66 and in 1959, they recorded their strongest season of the 11. The Dragons were undefeated, winning 17 of their 18 games with one draw, scoring 550 points and conceding only 190 - a difference of +360 points. The Dragons cruised to the Grand Final and kept Manly scoreless - winning 20-0.
And there you have it. The 10 greatest teams in rugby league history. There were some who were unlucky to miss out:
---------Honourable Mentions---------
1. 1909 South Sydney Rabbitohs
2. 1921 North Sydney Bears
3. 1932 South Sydney Rabbitohs
4. 2001 Newcastle Knights
5. 2002 Canterbury Bulldogs
6. 1994 Canberra Raiders
7. 2000 Brisbane Broncos
8. 2002 Auckland Warriors
9. 2004 Sydney Roosters
10. 1991 Penrith Panthers
10. 1995 Manly Sea Eagles - One of the best teams to fall at the final hurdle, Manly lost only two games in 1995 and topped the table with a points differential of +439. In a season that included some of the biggest stars of the modern era, Manly dominated but when the finals came around, they appeared burnt-out. They stumbled into the Preliminary Final with a four point win over Cronulla before holding Newcastle to one try in a 12-4 win. In the Grand Final, Manly just couldn't match the intensity of the Bulldogs with rookie Steve Price leading the way, and choked when it mattered most, held tryless in a 17-4 defeat. While the pain was immense, it was soon forgotten as they won the next year.
9. 2004 Canterbury Bulldogs - Made up for the disappointment of 2002 by winning 19 of their 24 games. The Dogs finished 2nd on the ladder behind the Sydney Roosters on points differential, but outscored them by 50 points. In a season highlighted by a 40-12 win over the Roosters, the Dogs went on to beat their counterparts 16-13 in the Grand Final after beating the reigning Premiers Penrith in the Preliminary.
8. 1917 Balmain Tigers - Conceded just nine tries in a 14 game season, of which they won 13. The Tigers finished 8 points clear of South Sydney on the first-past-the-post ladder.
7. 2001 Parramatta Eels - The greatest team to never win a Premiership. The 2001 Eels hold the record for the most points scored in a season with a titanic 839 and losing only 4 games along the way. With Jason Taylor scoring 265 points and Brett Hodgson running in 17 tries, the Eels were unstoppable in a season highlighted by a 40-0 thrashing of the team they would meet in the Grand Final that year - Newcastle - in round 17. The Eels waltzed into the Preliminary Final by thumping Warriors 56-12 in the Qualifying round, before marching into the Grand Final by putting Brisbane away 24-16. It was assumed the Eels just had to show up to the 2001 Grand Final and they would be crowned Premiers. However, no one told Newcastle who created one of the greatest Grand Final upsets of all time and won 30-24.
6. 1951 South Sydney Rabbitohs - One of only three teams to be 1st on the ladder for the entire season. South Sydney lost one game in 1951 and finished 11 points ahead of Manly on the ladder. After being walloped by St. George in the Major Semi Final 35-8, the Bunnies thanked their lucky stars when Manly took care of the Dragons in the Preliminary Final, and Souths went on to win the Grand Final 42-14 against the Sea Eagles.
5. 1925 South Sydney Rabbitohs - The only team in Australian rugby league history to win every game in a season. Souths went 12-0 in 1925 and were rarely challenged. A first-past-the-post system was in effect in 1925 so there were no finals.
4. 1982 Parramatta Eels - This year was not particularly spectacular for Parramatta, but was the pinnacle of their 4 Premierships in the 1980s. They won 21 of 26 matches scoring 619 points - 4 games clear and 80 points more than their nearest rival Manly. The Eels had a multitude of stars including Sterling, Kenny, Grothe, Cronin, Price, Edge and Ella. The Eels responded to a 20-0 loss to Manly in the Major semi by thumping Easts 33-0 and then beating Manly in the big one 21-8.
3. 1975 Eastern Suburbs - The Roosters lost just two games in 1975, winning 18 straight games to finish the season and have often been claimed the best team of all time. With Artie Beetson as captain, the Roosters scraped home in a few of their games by a solitary point, while winning a lot of their back half games by in excess of 18 points. They won the Grand Final 38-0 against St. George which for 33 years remained the biggest winning margin in Grand Finals.
2. 1935 Eastern Suburbs - Lost just one game and scored 599 points (avg. 37.4/game) with only 157 against for a whopping +442 point differential. On the back of winger Dave Brown's still-record 38 tries and 65 goals, the Roosters ploughed through 1935, thrashing Canterbury in one game 87-7. They won the Grand Final 19-3 vs. Souths. Could challenge for the number 1 spot.
1. 1958 St. George Dragons - This is the most dominant team of the most dominant dynasty in rugby league history. The Dragons won 11 straight premierships from 1956-66 and in 1959, they recorded their strongest season of the 11. The Dragons were undefeated, winning 17 of their 18 games with one draw, scoring 550 points and conceding only 190 - a difference of +360 points. The Dragons cruised to the Grand Final and kept Manly scoreless - winning 20-0.
And there you have it. The 10 greatest teams in rugby league history. There were some who were unlucky to miss out:
---------Honourable Mentions---------
1. 1909 South Sydney Rabbitohs
2. 1921 North Sydney Bears
3. 1932 South Sydney Rabbitohs
4. 2001 Newcastle Knights
5. 2002 Canterbury Bulldogs
6. 1994 Canberra Raiders
7. 2000 Brisbane Broncos
8. 2002 Auckland Warriors
9. 2004 Sydney Roosters
10. 1991 Penrith Panthers
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Dentists - The most hated of all medical professionals
Today, my family and I paid a visit to the dentist. Yes it sounds like something out of a mob movie, but no we did not extort them for debts or anything like that. It was simply a check-up and a general tooth maintenance session.
It occurred to me as I sat with my mother and brother in the waiting room that, at 18 years of age, this is what my family outings have degenerated into. No longer will we sit listening to birds chirping merrily in the surrounding bushland, watching the clouds pass by as we enjoy a lovely family picnic. Those days are over. Now we sit in dentist's waiting rooms reading white-trash magazines about Fergie and Prince Andrew - their disintegrated marriage looking rosy by comparisson - and a hard-cover copy of a poorly (if at all) proofread version of Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell.
Many thoughts go through your mind as you sit waiting to enter the House of Pain. Firstly, there's the inevitable realisation that you have been reading page after page but have not taken any of it in. With a book like Nineteen Eighty-Four, this is a crucial mistake. With simpler, less intelligent books like maybe Where's Wally or Green Eggs and Ham, this is forgivable. But not a classic piece of literature by George Orwell. Anyway, when this happens, you have to go back a page and read it again, this time trying to block out the hideous, high-pitched squealing sound of the drill or the brush or the angle grinder or whatever it is they use in there.
That's the second thing. The squealing. It has to be one of the most horrifying noises in the world while you're waiting to go in to a dentist. The squealing of the implement, combined with the sucking of that vacuum cleaner they use to clean out your mouth does scary things to your imagination. It sounds like a frontal lobotomy for Christ's sake!
There are some positive aspects of going to the dentist though. One of these is that you don't have to make awkward small talk a la the barber. You go in, you cordially say "Hi, how are you?" and then you lie in the chair and go through fifteen minutes of having strange metal instruments tangled up in your mouth while that whirring, whistling drill thing that you never get to see goes in there, chiselling away at your pearly whites - it's like an episode of the X-Files. Then you leave, say "thankyou" or something of that nature, before paying an exhorbitant amount for their trouble. At the barber, or at the doctor, or at the psychiatrist, you always feel obliged to talk. It's troubling.
Also, at this particular dental surgery, the assistant was fairly easy on the eye. It's almost a shame they shine that enormous light in your face and give you a pair of 1980s sunglasses to pop on. On top of that, there's a time and a place for everything and I'm not sure how it would come off if I were to say "woufhtg, yourghf purrrrty! Hoggghhh wwoo yooh wike tahh [cough] gooh tah dah mooooies wimme?" Roughly translated to: "Golly, you're fine lookin'. Say, would you like to accompany me to the pictures sometime?" I daresay that even on a good day, I wouldn't look my most flattering in a bib with my mouth wide open and flouride all over my chin. Even so, it may be the closest I get for a while to a good-looking girl sticking things in my mouth, so I'll take it.
Apart from that, there's not a whole lot to write home about if you're a dentist. It's said they have the highest suicide rate of any profession. It's fairly understandable when you look at their lives. You get up at 7 in the morning, you go to a sterile working environment where the walls and ceiling are white and the floor is an icky blue colour so you feel like you are working in something out of '2001: A Space Odyssey'. Not to mention the fact that every person you work with hates you. There is no other occupation where this is the case. Finally, what can looking in people's mouths all day do for your sex life? Sweet FA that's what. I can't think of anything more sexually desensitising than poking, prodding, cleaning and whitening other people's teeth all day. Bad breath, ulcers, yellow teeth and gingivitis are just some of the awful things they deal with on an hourly basis. So you go home to your significant other and they're there waiting for you with a glass of wine and a big, disgusting mouth for you to kiss, all the while you're thinking of Mrs. Smith's gaping molar cavity.
No, I don't particularly want to enter the profession. It doesn't call me. Sure they make stacks of money, but so do crook cops and prostitutes. Why not have some fun? I guess we owe them some respect for the work they do. Maybe when my goddam lateral incisor stops aching, I'll consider it!
It occurred to me as I sat with my mother and brother in the waiting room that, at 18 years of age, this is what my family outings have degenerated into. No longer will we sit listening to birds chirping merrily in the surrounding bushland, watching the clouds pass by as we enjoy a lovely family picnic. Those days are over. Now we sit in dentist's waiting rooms reading white-trash magazines about Fergie and Prince Andrew - their disintegrated marriage looking rosy by comparisson - and a hard-cover copy of a poorly (if at all) proofread version of Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell.
Many thoughts go through your mind as you sit waiting to enter the House of Pain. Firstly, there's the inevitable realisation that you have been reading page after page but have not taken any of it in. With a book like Nineteen Eighty-Four, this is a crucial mistake. With simpler, less intelligent books like maybe Where's Wally or Green Eggs and Ham, this is forgivable. But not a classic piece of literature by George Orwell. Anyway, when this happens, you have to go back a page and read it again, this time trying to block out the hideous, high-pitched squealing sound of the drill or the brush or the angle grinder or whatever it is they use in there.
That's the second thing. The squealing. It has to be one of the most horrifying noises in the world while you're waiting to go in to a dentist. The squealing of the implement, combined with the sucking of that vacuum cleaner they use to clean out your mouth does scary things to your imagination. It sounds like a frontal lobotomy for Christ's sake!
There are some positive aspects of going to the dentist though. One of these is that you don't have to make awkward small talk a la the barber. You go in, you cordially say "Hi, how are you?" and then you lie in the chair and go through fifteen minutes of having strange metal instruments tangled up in your mouth while that whirring, whistling drill thing that you never get to see goes in there, chiselling away at your pearly whites - it's like an episode of the X-Files. Then you leave, say "thankyou" or something of that nature, before paying an exhorbitant amount for their trouble. At the barber, or at the doctor, or at the psychiatrist, you always feel obliged to talk. It's troubling.
Also, at this particular dental surgery, the assistant was fairly easy on the eye. It's almost a shame they shine that enormous light in your face and give you a pair of 1980s sunglasses to pop on. On top of that, there's a time and a place for everything and I'm not sure how it would come off if I were to say "woufhtg, yourghf purrrrty! Hoggghhh wwoo yooh wike tahh [cough] gooh tah dah mooooies wimme?" Roughly translated to: "Golly, you're fine lookin'. Say, would you like to accompany me to the pictures sometime?" I daresay that even on a good day, I wouldn't look my most flattering in a bib with my mouth wide open and flouride all over my chin. Even so, it may be the closest I get for a while to a good-looking girl sticking things in my mouth, so I'll take it.
Apart from that, there's not a whole lot to write home about if you're a dentist. It's said they have the highest suicide rate of any profession. It's fairly understandable when you look at their lives. You get up at 7 in the morning, you go to a sterile working environment where the walls and ceiling are white and the floor is an icky blue colour so you feel like you are working in something out of '2001: A Space Odyssey'. Not to mention the fact that every person you work with hates you. There is no other occupation where this is the case. Finally, what can looking in people's mouths all day do for your sex life? Sweet FA that's what. I can't think of anything more sexually desensitising than poking, prodding, cleaning and whitening other people's teeth all day. Bad breath, ulcers, yellow teeth and gingivitis are just some of the awful things they deal with on an hourly basis. So you go home to your significant other and they're there waiting for you with a glass of wine and a big, disgusting mouth for you to kiss, all the while you're thinking of Mrs. Smith's gaping molar cavity.
No, I don't particularly want to enter the profession. It doesn't call me. Sure they make stacks of money, but so do crook cops and prostitutes. Why not have some fun? I guess we owe them some respect for the work they do. Maybe when my goddam lateral incisor stops aching, I'll consider it!
10 Greatest Songs of All Time (liable to change)
Ok, ok, ok, pipe down!! I don't want to hear about 'Like a Rolling Stone' and 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and 'Stairway to Heaven'! These songs are terrible. They are mindless concoctions of crapola. Here are the REAL Top 10 Greatest Songs of All Time:
10. 'I Want to Break Free' - Queen - I just plain love this song. The acoustic bassline does it.
10. 'I Want to Break Free' - Queen - I just plain love this song. The acoustic bassline does it.
9. 'A Hard Rains a-Gonna Fall' - Bob Dylan/Bryan Ferry & Roxy Music - I included the two practitioners of this song because Dylan wrote and performed the original, and Roxy Music's version was, simply put, better. It's a great song about a young man who travels the world and sees the pain and suffering as well as its beauty. Kind of like this blog.
8. 'Rhapsody in Blue' - George Gershwin - Unorthodox choice for a list mainly containing hit songs but this 16 minute jazz number can't possibly miss the list. It's a classic.
7. 'Clubbed to Death' - Rob Dougan - Had to slip an instrumental in here and this song takes the cake as far as techno instrumentals go. Was used in The Matrix and has a bitchin' video clip to boot.
6. 'Blinded by the Light' - Manfred Mann's Earth Band - Written by The Boss himself, and sung with a rough, no-shit southern accent, this song is a pearler. I'm not really sure what it's about, but the words sound intelligent and the assonance is amazing "Madman drummers, bummers, Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat...in the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat". Pure genius.
5. 'House of the Rising Sun' - The Animals - Unlucky to be as far back as five. This song is an all time classic. The most intriguing thing about it is that no one is exactly sure who wrote it or where it originated. Some say it was Bob Dylan, others say it was Ogden Nash (actually no one says that, but they should). The Animals' version of this song is said to have "changed the face of music forever" ... presumably in a good way.
4. 'Piano Man' - Billy Joel - Not many people who have had as many number one hits as Billy Joel can claim they still have that signature song. 'Piano Man' is that signature song. It's the ballad of a bar and the many stories of its characters from Mike at the bar who wants to be a movie star to Davy who will probably be in the Navy for life. Can you believe the clowns at Rolling Stone had this at #421 on the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time list?
3. 'Holy Grail' - Hunters and Collectors - To get the full feel of this song, you have to listen to an acoustic version. Either way, it's a top song and centres on Napoleon's unsuccessful campaign in Russia. Songs about historical events are the best.
2. 'Every Breath You Take' - The Police - The song is about a messy break-up where the protagonist will be watching everything the ex-GF does. It's kinda creepy but still an awesome song and has a great bassline.
1. 'With or Without You' - U2 - Have you ever thought to yourself, "I would love to write a successful song and make millions of dollars, but I just need an idea"? Well U2 absolutely nailed it. "I can't live with or without you" has to represent the thoughts of every single relationship that has ever gone through a slightly rocky period. It's brilliant.
---------Honourable Mention---------
'Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For' - U2
'Bittersweet Symphony' - The Verve
'The Horses' - Daryl Braithwaite
'New Kid in Town' - The Eagles
'White Christmas' - Bing Crosby
'Running on Empty' - Jackson Browne
Sunday, July 4, 2010
The 10 Greatest Films of All Time (fact, not opinion)
So it's come to my attention that there is a need to verify the Greatest 10 Films of All Time because there is far too much confusion surrounding this topic. So here is the list:
10. The Vanishing - A bit of a smokey at 10th spot, this film had me thinking for days afterwards. It's a seedy, creepy and sad psychological thriller which is not up there with the classics as far as screenwriting is concerned. But Keifer Sutherland is more than convincing and Jeff Bridges is as good as any bad guy ever. Oh and ahh Sandra Bullock is in it.
9. Anchorman - I had to put the funniest film of all-time in this list, and Anchorman just edges out Zoolander. This film has so many memorable quotes I could make an entire blog for them. "I have many leather-bound books" is one example. It is truly a side-splitter.
8. Friday Night Lights - Could be called an "average movie at best" by turtleneck-wearing, latte-sipping, birdbrain critics. I call it a masterpiece. The story is so much deeper than just a series of football games making up a season. The characters' lives and the ultimate realisation is the essence of this film.
7. The Silence of the Lambs - one of only four movies to win what I call the Grand Slam (Best Actor + Best Actress + Best Picture). Fascinating movie. Amazing story line and an eerie feeling the whole way through. Anthony Hopkins is brilliant and Jodie Foster's drawl wins her Best Actress.
6. The Usual Suspects - Welcome to the list for the first time, Kevin Spacey. He puts in an exceptional performance which won him Best Supporting Actor. The film itself is action-packed and suspenseful and has one of the best twists of all time at the end. The moment of realisation is thoroughly worth waiting for.
5. Casablanca - my favourite all-time 'classic'. Humphery Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Enough said.
4. Se7en - the best psychological thriller I've ever seen. Incredible twist at the end. Suspense all the way through, and you can even ignore Brad Pitt's horrible acting because Morgan Freeman overshadows him big-time. Gwyneth Paltrow is pretty good until she loses her head (literally).
---------------TOP 3---------------
3. L.A Confidential - A gritty cop-drama. Incredible acting makes this movie a top 3 on the list. Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe give one of the best performances of their respective careers. The story is strong and the action is constant. A thrilling finish as well.
Plus it has Kim Bassinger. What else could you ask for?
2. JFK - this movie highlights the courtroom struggle of New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison as he attempts to prove a conspiracy in the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Oliver Stone uses enough creative licence to re-write the Bible, but the story is based on fact and it has a great climax. Kevin Costner is incredibly convincing.
1. American Beauty - a great story, serviced by a great script, about several great characters, portrayed by several great actors. The single best movie of all time. Kevin Spacey won the Best Actor Oscar for his performance and I think Annette Bening might have won Best Supporting Actress.
____________________________________________
Honourable Mention:
Cinderella Man
Rear Window
Vertigo
Batman
Zoolander
The Maltese Falcon
Raging Bull
Ace Ventura - Pet Detective
10. The Vanishing - A bit of a smokey at 10th spot, this film had me thinking for days afterwards. It's a seedy, creepy and sad psychological thriller which is not up there with the classics as far as screenwriting is concerned. But Keifer Sutherland is more than convincing and Jeff Bridges is as good as any bad guy ever. Oh and ahh Sandra Bullock is in it.
9. Anchorman - I had to put the funniest film of all-time in this list, and Anchorman just edges out Zoolander. This film has so many memorable quotes I could make an entire blog for them. "I have many leather-bound books" is one example. It is truly a side-splitter.
8. Friday Night Lights - Could be called an "average movie at best" by turtleneck-wearing, latte-sipping, birdbrain critics. I call it a masterpiece. The story is so much deeper than just a series of football games making up a season. The characters' lives and the ultimate realisation is the essence of this film.
7. The Silence of the Lambs - one of only four movies to win what I call the Grand Slam (Best Actor + Best Actress + Best Picture). Fascinating movie. Amazing story line and an eerie feeling the whole way through. Anthony Hopkins is brilliant and Jodie Foster's drawl wins her Best Actress.
6. The Usual Suspects - Welcome to the list for the first time, Kevin Spacey. He puts in an exceptional performance which won him Best Supporting Actor. The film itself is action-packed and suspenseful and has one of the best twists of all time at the end. The moment of realisation is thoroughly worth waiting for.
5. Casablanca - my favourite all-time 'classic'. Humphery Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Enough said.
4. Se7en - the best psychological thriller I've ever seen. Incredible twist at the end. Suspense all the way through, and you can even ignore Brad Pitt's horrible acting because Morgan Freeman overshadows him big-time. Gwyneth Paltrow is pretty good until she loses her head (literally).
---------------TOP 3---------------
3. L.A Confidential - A gritty cop-drama. Incredible acting makes this movie a top 3 on the list. Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe give one of the best performances of their respective careers. The story is strong and the action is constant. A thrilling finish as well.
Plus it has Kim Bassinger. What else could you ask for?
2. JFK - this movie highlights the courtroom struggle of New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison as he attempts to prove a conspiracy in the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Oliver Stone uses enough creative licence to re-write the Bible, but the story is based on fact and it has a great climax. Kevin Costner is incredibly convincing.
1. American Beauty - a great story, serviced by a great script, about several great characters, portrayed by several great actors. The single best movie of all time. Kevin Spacey won the Best Actor Oscar for his performance and I think Annette Bening might have won Best Supporting Actress.
____________________________________________
Honourable Mention:
Cinderella Man
Rear Window
Vertigo
Batman
Zoolander
The Maltese Falcon
Raging Bull
Ace Ventura - Pet Detective
Quatro
Today I came to a total of five significant realisations.
1. It is pointless to keep a diary of Dry July unless something eventful happens like if I kill someone in a fit of alcohol-dependency-related anxiety..
2. I can only count to four in Spanish (see title)
5. I can only count to two in English
I need a beer.
1. It is pointless to keep a diary of Dry July unless something eventful happens like if I kill someone in a fit of alcohol-dependency-related anxiety..
2. I can only count to four in Spanish (see title)
5. I can only count to two in English
I need a beer.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Dry July Part Trois
Completely uneventful day alcohol-encounter-wise. Didn't even see any alcohol.
Actually starting to enjoy the no booze thing. The stuff they say about the three day hump? Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuulllllllllllllllshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttttt.
Adieu.
Actually starting to enjoy the no booze thing. The stuff they say about the three day hump? Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuulllllllllllllllshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttttt.
Adieu.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Dry July Day 2
Ok so that didn't turn out to be all that bad. I went to the Lappo, had Coke and water all night, and left reasonably happy and relieved I didn't say anything stupid/grope any of the beautiful women around me. That would be one of the very few nights at the pub where I haven't had any alcohol and surprisingly, I wasn't bored or particularly wanting to leave at any stage.
The day went fine, I never drink during the day anyway, unless I'm at a restaurant/club for lunch or if it's a special occassion. But I did have a thought about a schooner of ice cold beer passing through my lips at some point (can't remember the exact time but it was early- to mid-afternoon).
Tonight, I caught the train to Springwood where Gary met me and drove me back to his place to wait for Kirstie who was giving us a lift to the Lappo. While I was there, I copped my first recorded 'Dry July Grilling' from one Mr. Matthew Kime, AKA Gary's Dad. Firstly, he did the scoff when he found out I was doing Dry July, which is what I have received from many, many people over the course of the last month or so. I don't exactly know why I get this scoff of disbelief. You would think it's a reflection of their lack of confidence in my ability to go the distance. But then, I figure I've never made a name for myself on the drinking circuit (standard recognition for this is being classified as "true blue" and labelled a "bastard" before being ordered to consume your current beer in one fell swoop by others present), nor do I drink heavily on regular occassions. But still, I get the scoff and then the look of sheer terror at the prospect of a month off the grog. Secondly, Matt Kime then offered me a beer. I smiled knowingly, before letting him have it with a "hardy har har" and a look of disgust. He got the message. To cap off the trifecta, Matty then insisted I "have a drink for him". I told him it would be Coke, and that I couldn't make any promises about not glassing anyone which was the second part of the request.
So overall, Day Two of the Dry July campaign was fairly eventful, without any real withdrawal signs yet. Feeling confident and ready to power on through July. Starting to worry about Gary's thing in the city though. Should be very interesting.
The day went fine, I never drink during the day anyway, unless I'm at a restaurant/club for lunch or if it's a special occassion. But I did have a thought about a schooner of ice cold beer passing through my lips at some point (can't remember the exact time but it was early- to mid-afternoon).
Tonight, I caught the train to Springwood where Gary met me and drove me back to his place to wait for Kirstie who was giving us a lift to the Lappo. While I was there, I copped my first recorded 'Dry July Grilling' from one Mr. Matthew Kime, AKA Gary's Dad. Firstly, he did the scoff when he found out I was doing Dry July, which is what I have received from many, many people over the course of the last month or so. I don't exactly know why I get this scoff of disbelief. You would think it's a reflection of their lack of confidence in my ability to go the distance. But then, I figure I've never made a name for myself on the drinking circuit (standard recognition for this is being classified as "true blue" and labelled a "bastard" before being ordered to consume your current beer in one fell swoop by others present), nor do I drink heavily on regular occassions. But still, I get the scoff and then the look of sheer terror at the prospect of a month off the grog. Secondly, Matt Kime then offered me a beer. I smiled knowingly, before letting him have it with a "hardy har har" and a look of disgust. He got the message. To cap off the trifecta, Matty then insisted I "have a drink for him". I told him it would be Coke, and that I couldn't make any promises about not glassing anyone which was the second part of the request.
So overall, Day Two of the Dry July campaign was fairly eventful, without any real withdrawal signs yet. Feeling confident and ready to power on through July. Starting to worry about Gary's thing in the city though. Should be very interesting.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Dry July Day 1!
Well, that wasn't too bad.
I got through the first day of Dry July without a hitch or a beer. Now I don't want you to get the impression that I struggle to go a day without a beer, because that's almost 60% untrue. But what is noticable is that when I tell myself I can't drink, it makes me want it more and I feel sorry for myself because I'm missing out. When in reality, I probably wouldn't drink tonight anyway! What does suck, I have Gary's party coming up on the 10th and where is it? King's Cross of all places. The only suburb in the whole goddam city where you have to be >0.14 BAC to have a good time. Just being in the presence of Gary, Jono, Scott and friends will be enough to carry me through the night though I hope. If not, I'll start looking for new friends.
The biggest test of my enforced sobriety will be tomorrow night when the folks head to the Lappo. Jono probably won't drink because he's driving and he feels it affects his judgment or some crap. Gary on the other hand should have a few in my honour. I practically insist. Although I'm still not entirely sure I'll go.
After Friday, there should be a fairly untempting week ahead of me where I can prepare myself for the 10th by looking up numerous pub trivia facts in order to present them to my inebriated buddies for my sheer amusement. One such fact is that the Denver Broncos have scored at least one point in 377 consecutive home games dating back to 1960. Gary and Jono particularly liked this one when I told them today. I'll bombard them with a stack of useless info from the NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, MLS, NCAA, WNBA, Lingerie Football League and other professional American sports leagues. Maybe I'll just tell them all the sports leagues.
I'm also thinking if I'm headed to the Cross on the 10th, I might try and find John Ibrahim and catch up for a chat. He rarely drinks, so we might find common ground as being the only two people in the Cross who are not completely trashed beyond recognition. Or I'll just belt him one in the jaw. I'll throw shit at the wall and see what sticks. Better not throw shit at old 'Teflon John' though, nothing sticks to him and he'll likely get a little touchy about having shit thrown at him, he'll throw some back at me and then the shit will hit the 'fan'...took a little longer to get to that punchline than I budgeted for..
That's all from me for this post, on Day 1 of the Dry July campaign. I'll try and keep a daily record of how the spell is going just for your sick amusement.
Until next time, here's to you, kid.
I got through the first day of Dry July without a hitch or a beer. Now I don't want you to get the impression that I struggle to go a day without a beer, because that's almost 60% untrue. But what is noticable is that when I tell myself I can't drink, it makes me want it more and I feel sorry for myself because I'm missing out. When in reality, I probably wouldn't drink tonight anyway! What does suck, I have Gary's party coming up on the 10th and where is it? King's Cross of all places. The only suburb in the whole goddam city where you have to be >0.14 BAC to have a good time. Just being in the presence of Gary, Jono, Scott and friends will be enough to carry me through the night though I hope. If not, I'll start looking for new friends.
The biggest test of my enforced sobriety will be tomorrow night when the folks head to the Lappo. Jono probably won't drink because he's driving and he feels it affects his judgment or some crap. Gary on the other hand should have a few in my honour. I practically insist. Although I'm still not entirely sure I'll go.
After Friday, there should be a fairly untempting week ahead of me where I can prepare myself for the 10th by looking up numerous pub trivia facts in order to present them to my inebriated buddies for my sheer amusement. One such fact is that the Denver Broncos have scored at least one point in 377 consecutive home games dating back to 1960. Gary and Jono particularly liked this one when I told them today. I'll bombard them with a stack of useless info from the NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, MLS, NCAA, WNBA, Lingerie Football League and other professional American sports leagues. Maybe I'll just tell them all the sports leagues.
I'm also thinking if I'm headed to the Cross on the 10th, I might try and find John Ibrahim and catch up for a chat. He rarely drinks, so we might find common ground as being the only two people in the Cross who are not completely trashed beyond recognition. Or I'll just belt him one in the jaw. I'll throw shit at the wall and see what sticks. Better not throw shit at old 'Teflon John' though, nothing sticks to him and he'll likely get a little touchy about having shit thrown at him, he'll throw some back at me and then the shit will hit the 'fan'...took a little longer to get to that punchline than I budgeted for..
That's all from me for this post, on Day 1 of the Dry July campaign. I'll try and keep a daily record of how the spell is going just for your sick amusement.
Until next time, here's to you, kid.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
10 Things I Hate About Matt
For your entertainment, I decided a little self-degredation wouldn't go astray. There's too much shying away from absolutely ripping on oneself these days and I thought, why not give you all a taste of what I hate about myself, in order to make it easier for you all to put your finger on exactly what it is about me that you also detest.
Of course, I don't want to come across as a self-loathing emo, nor a leaf-eating emu, but especially not a self-loathing emo. So I want it to be known that first and foremost, I love myself dearly and would probably die for myself. Secondly, I want to do this excercise as an equaliser, so that in future posts, where it appears I love myself a little too much, we can look back and reminisce about...
THE 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT MATT:
1. His imbecilic love of himself
2. The fact that, no matter how wrong he is proven to be, there is always a reason for his wrongness, usually the fault of someone else and in some cases an innocent bystander
3. His method of argument - slyly suggest someone is wrong and then continue to bring up the argument even after point 2 has occurred (see above)
4. His way of initially addressing people as 'dude', 'mate' or 'pal'
5. His hair
6. The way he looks at people on the train as if they are common filth
7. The fact that he said he would die for himself
8. Severe case of hypocrisy
9. He doesn't argue with any structure or style, he just contradicts
10. The fact that if you called him a contradictory hypocrite he would say "I am not, you are!"
Of course, I don't want to come across as a self-loathing emo, nor a leaf-eating emu, but especially not a self-loathing emo. So I want it to be known that first and foremost, I love myself dearly and would probably die for myself. Secondly, I want to do this excercise as an equaliser, so that in future posts, where it appears I love myself a little too much, we can look back and reminisce about...
THE 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT MATT:
1. His imbecilic love of himself
2. The fact that, no matter how wrong he is proven to be, there is always a reason for his wrongness, usually the fault of someone else and in some cases an innocent bystander
3. His method of argument - slyly suggest someone is wrong and then continue to bring up the argument even after point 2 has occurred (see above)
4. His way of initially addressing people as 'dude', 'mate' or 'pal'
5. His hair
6. The way he looks at people on the train as if they are common filth
7. The fact that he said he would die for himself
8. Severe case of hypocrisy
9. He doesn't argue with any structure or style, he just contradicts
10. The fact that if you called him a contradictory hypocrite he would say "I am not, you are!"
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