... there was a time when I reacted to everything as though it and I were magnets. I was either irresistably attracted or equally violently repelled. Life was love - hate - love and shades of gray were seen as compromise.
Of course life is made up of shades of gray - but then embracing that fact would mean embracing a gray life, wouldn't it? You see only a couple of sentences in and already this seems circular and self indulgent.
What I've learned of course is that you can be black and white some of the time. That it's all about choice. When to get annoyed, when to hit back, when to hit first, when to track down their ISP and report them to their boss and when to simply think "what a tosser" and move on to something more deserving of time (like mayonaisse)
There's been a lot of mayo contemplating recently.
On a more concrete side I am officially allergic to everything other than dogs. Dust, trees, grass, mites, people with beards. Did an allergy test today - in a bid to find out what turns me into a Geisha Panda on occasion - and was amazed to find out that there's nothing that I don't react violently to (well I react only mildly to cats). This is not a good thing. And there's very little that anyone can do - other than advise me to live in a sterile environment with a dog. Which wouldn't be so terrible - Connecticut here we come
Thursday, March 27, 2008
What possesses
people to take pictures of people on American Idol and then upload them to Flickr is quite beyond me. But I'm rather glad that they do. This is Carly Bruiser and her fighting lizard husband. Can America bring itself to vote for flesh desecrators I wonder?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
American Idol
I realised today that I've been almost entirely silent on the subject of this season's American Idol - which is most unlike me as it's a bit of a corker.
Let me start by bringing you up to speed with the contestants
Brook White is the toothy Carly Simon type. She's never seen an R rated movie, is relentlessly positive and likes to play the piano in a way that reminds me of a chaste Tori Amos (her knees are resolutely never splayed). She's harmless enough but alas she's about 40 years too late to have a career - and 40 years ago we had tapestry and carole king anyway.
Carly Smithson is an Irish bruiser who this week admitted that she'd murdered Total Eclipse of the Heart in part because her slimming girdle had been too tight. Married to what appears to be a fighting lizard she's the kind of girl you'd like to have a pint with - and she can belt out a song but in the age of HD and widescreen the bingo wings are a killer.
David Archuleta is a singing mormon foetus who seems too earnest for his own good but really connects on songs with a pseudo refligious content. He makes the girls scream but only because girls are evil and they see how it makes him squirm. Tellingly he's almost never acknowledged by another contestant. He'll go far, but never far enough
David Cook is a doughy Daughtrey. He's done a couple of good covers that have turned out to be accurate enough rip offs but he does at least sound current in an emo rocker sort of way. I'd like him more if he didn't look like a Cornish Pastie.
Jason Castro is the young, blue eyes, dreadlocked bedroom strummer with the hippie attitude and the ability to turn 12 year old girls into puddles of jello. He's crap but that doesn't really matter - it's all about the eyes.
Kristy Lee Cook has played every Idol card she can. She sings with a country twang. She has a "I sold my horse" story and after WEEKS in the bottom three she this week made the most cynical and brilliant choice of songs in the history of the show "God Bless the USA" - Americans bought shovels to help them gobble that shit up faster and she's moving on.
Michael Johns is from Australia and has a Queen fetish. This makes people compare him to Michael Hutchence. Maybe a castrated Hutchence. He's already in a hotel room - somebody hand him a noose and save us from more weeks of self indulgent vocal noodling.
Ramilele Malubay wouldn't be out of place belting out slightly mis-pronounced covers in the Mandarin Oriental, Manilla. When she does end up there be sure to ask for a room as far from the 'cabaret lounge' as possible.
Syesha Mercado is another cut priced Whitney. She has nice hair. And she's making the most of good dentistry. But really girl - you need to get your own schtick 'cause this has been done and been done so much better.
And that's it. Nobody as excruciating as 'beat boxer' Blake Lewis, as deformed but brilliant as Doolittle or even as deranged as last year's winner - a hairy pre-pubescent giantess . But it's been a blast so far.
Expect weekly updates hence.
Let me start by bringing you up to speed with the contestants
Brook White is the toothy Carly Simon type. She's never seen an R rated movie, is relentlessly positive and likes to play the piano in a way that reminds me of a chaste Tori Amos (her knees are resolutely never splayed). She's harmless enough but alas she's about 40 years too late to have a career - and 40 years ago we had tapestry and carole king anyway.
Carly Smithson is an Irish bruiser who this week admitted that she'd murdered Total Eclipse of the Heart in part because her slimming girdle had been too tight. Married to what appears to be a fighting lizard she's the kind of girl you'd like to have a pint with - and she can belt out a song but in the age of HD and widescreen the bingo wings are a killer.
David Archuleta is a singing mormon foetus who seems too earnest for his own good but really connects on songs with a pseudo refligious content. He makes the girls scream but only because girls are evil and they see how it makes him squirm. Tellingly he's almost never acknowledged by another contestant. He'll go far, but never far enough
David Cook is a doughy Daughtrey. He's done a couple of good covers that have turned out to be accurate enough rip offs but he does at least sound current in an emo rocker sort of way. I'd like him more if he didn't look like a Cornish Pastie.
Jason Castro is the young, blue eyes, dreadlocked bedroom strummer with the hippie attitude and the ability to turn 12 year old girls into puddles of jello. He's crap but that doesn't really matter - it's all about the eyes.
Kristy Lee Cook has played every Idol card she can. She sings with a country twang. She has a "I sold my horse" story and after WEEKS in the bottom three she this week made the most cynical and brilliant choice of songs in the history of the show "God Bless the USA" - Americans bought shovels to help them gobble that shit up faster and she's moving on.
Michael Johns is from Australia and has a Queen fetish. This makes people compare him to Michael Hutchence. Maybe a castrated Hutchence. He's already in a hotel room - somebody hand him a noose and save us from more weeks of self indulgent vocal noodling.
Ramilele Malubay wouldn't be out of place belting out slightly mis-pronounced covers in the Mandarin Oriental, Manilla. When she does end up there be sure to ask for a room as far from the 'cabaret lounge' as possible.
Syesha Mercado is another cut priced Whitney. She has nice hair. And she's making the most of good dentistry. But really girl - you need to get your own schtick 'cause this has been done and been done so much better.
And that's it. Nobody as excruciating as 'beat boxer' Blake Lewis, as deformed but brilliant as Doolittle or even as deranged as last year's winner - a hairy pre-pubescent giantess . But it's been a blast so far.
Expect weekly updates hence.
Like the real thing - but not quite
Not much happening today... which isn't really the way to start any blog entry. No the way to start a blog entry is thus
"So there I was wrist deep in a post op-tranny"
The reason that's the way to start a blog entry is simple. At any given moment there are a huge number of men looking online for any mention of "Post op trannies"
Perhaps some are surgeons - looking for a new, neater stitch. Or nurses hoping to find a favorite ex-patient. But the majority are guys on the slow slide into fetishism. Pushing boundaries further and further in a bid to find the thrills that once came so easily. That's the problem with infinite options - they dull the senses. Things that are easy to find - and shared by many are somehow less thrilling - and so we search for the unusual.
Families try to "get there before McDondalds" when travelling. Businessmen stay in 'boutique' hotels owned and run by mass chains. Teenage girls search second hand stores in search of vintage. And a million boys sit in bedrooms trying to create the ultimate mash-up - the modern mix-tape without the awkward connotations.
We're all looking for the unique. Defining ourselves by the increasingly small number of things that we do that are different. For the things that make up the 2% of our lives that we believe is ultimately 'us'.
We're becoming nomads. Constantly moving in the search not for stimulation but for uniqueness. We want to drink from the fountain of interesting... to experience what others haven't and as a result become what others aren't. Choice does that. It allows us to indulge fantasy.
Maybe that's why I get so many hits looking for post-op trannies. Or maybe it's just that guys are predictably in search of cheap titillation.
Whaddya think?
"So there I was wrist deep in a post op-tranny"
The reason that's the way to start a blog entry is simple. At any given moment there are a huge number of men looking online for any mention of "Post op trannies"
Perhaps some are surgeons - looking for a new, neater stitch. Or nurses hoping to find a favorite ex-patient. But the majority are guys on the slow slide into fetishism. Pushing boundaries further and further in a bid to find the thrills that once came so easily. That's the problem with infinite options - they dull the senses. Things that are easy to find - and shared by many are somehow less thrilling - and so we search for the unusual.
Families try to "get there before McDondalds" when travelling. Businessmen stay in 'boutique' hotels owned and run by mass chains. Teenage girls search second hand stores in search of vintage. And a million boys sit in bedrooms trying to create the ultimate mash-up - the modern mix-tape without the awkward connotations.
We're all looking for the unique. Defining ourselves by the increasingly small number of things that we do that are different. For the things that make up the 2% of our lives that we believe is ultimately 'us'.
We're becoming nomads. Constantly moving in the search not for stimulation but for uniqueness. We want to drink from the fountain of interesting... to experience what others haven't and as a result become what others aren't. Choice does that. It allows us to indulge fantasy.
Maybe that's why I get so many hits looking for post-op trannies. Or maybe it's just that guys are predictably in search of cheap titillation.
Whaddya think?
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
A marble gray day
it's one of those heavy gray days here today - the skies look marble and the earth feels as cold. Everywhere you look there's evidence that this has been a brutal winter - from the pallid complexions of the faces you see here through to the dirty grey chunks of decomposed road mixed with week old slush that are thrown up by the trucks. Cars are glazed with crusted salt, concrete structures act as a black holes - overpasses sucking what weak light there is available into their very bases - like monsterously selfish plants. Clothes that started black and tight are now faded and slack, as are the bodies below them - the winter adding inches of marbled flesh to bodies programmed to expect famine.
Yup today is marble gray
Yup today is marble gray
Monday, March 24, 2008
Home alone
I'm home alone today.
Judith is at work but I have the day off to celebrate the rising of The Lord (aka R. Savior) in the traditional fashion (Quorn, chocolate, a trip to the vet, a walk with the dog, an hour in the gym and some thinking about an event I'm organizing)
The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the snow is melting despite it still being -1c and somehow it feels like spring.
A month ago I'd have filled the day with searches for Hillary and Obama - but I have Primary fatigue and besides there are too many other things to find online to be worried about THAT particular black man - older white woman pairing.
Right now I'm going book myself tickets to Vegas, Miami, Cyprus and maybe LA. Now that's what I call spending,
Judith is at work but I have the day off to celebrate the rising of The Lord (aka R. Savior) in the traditional fashion (Quorn, chocolate, a trip to the vet, a walk with the dog, an hour in the gym and some thinking about an event I'm organizing)
The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the snow is melting despite it still being -1c and somehow it feels like spring.
A month ago I'd have filled the day with searches for Hillary and Obama - but I have Primary fatigue and besides there are too many other things to find online to be worried about THAT particular black man - older white woman pairing.
Right now I'm going book myself tickets to Vegas, Miami, Cyprus and maybe LA. Now that's what I call spending,
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Molecular Gastronomy
I've always thought that Molecular Gastronomy was more about theatre than food. Well when I say always I mean during my years as someone poncy enough to be thinking about Molecular Gastronomy rather than whether to have the fish sticks or the chicken sticks.
Anyway last night we headed down to our landlord's pub and then on to his restaurant. It's about a 60 mile drive each way and the town of Clarkston is a two stoplight town so we weren't quite sure what to expect. Other than it would be good. But was that good for such a small town, good for Michigan or good for America?
As it turned out it was gorgeous, the food was good (my Ahi Wellington- seared blue tuna wrapped in rice paper with shitake duxelle, wasabi white bean puree and ponzu demi-glace was great), the decor was great and our landlord was generous with his time , his attention and his cash (he comp'd our entire meal - wine and all)
Best of all though was the ice-cream. Wheeled out on a trolley with a bowl lit blue from below by a light box the ice-cream was an exercise in molecular theatre. Yup they took the ice cream mix and added liquid nitrogen, right there tableside. They then did the same to both citrus fruit and chocolate. The result was spectacular tableside theatre and an icecream that tasted like none I've ever tried before. The flavors were fresh. The ice-cream smooth. And the citrus just zing'd.
We'll be back - and next time we'll be paying
Anyway last night we headed down to our landlord's pub and then on to his restaurant. It's about a 60 mile drive each way and the town of Clarkston is a two stoplight town so we weren't quite sure what to expect. Other than it would be good. But was that good for such a small town, good for Michigan or good for America?
As it turned out it was gorgeous, the food was good (my Ahi Wellington- seared blue tuna wrapped in rice paper with shitake duxelle, wasabi white bean puree and ponzu demi-glace was great), the decor was great and our landlord was generous with his time , his attention and his cash (he comp'd our entire meal - wine and all)
Best of all though was the ice-cream. Wheeled out on a trolley with a bowl lit blue from below by a light box the ice-cream was an exercise in molecular theatre. Yup they took the ice cream mix and added liquid nitrogen, right there tableside. They then did the same to both citrus fruit and chocolate. The result was spectacular tableside theatre and an icecream that tasted like none I've ever tried before. The flavors were fresh. The ice-cream smooth. And the citrus just zing'd.
We'll be back - and next time we'll be paying
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Another 10 inches
When we were in New York I'd have expected a blog post named "Another Ten Inches" to be some kind of review of a show tune review or perhaps a write up of a micro penised organ playing sextet.
Here it means one thing. Snow. And lots of it. So much snow that if you open the door of your car and put the key in the ignition - accidentally triggering the windshield wipers; you end up with about 9 inches of snow under the electric seat of your car. I know, I tried it. I'm an idiot.
Went to see Bank Job yesterday and besides the ridiculous dialogue "Granted I've been known to get up to some skullduggery in the past..." it was actually all rather entertaining. In a 'here to enjoy the accents' kind of way.
Today saw us trawling the outlet markets for cheap designery things. And tonight we're driving up to Clarkston (home of Kid Rock and that woman who replaced Kirtsie Alley on the Jenny Craig ads for just long enough to allow the agency to find another fat celeb' that they could slim). Our landlord has a couple of restaurants there - so we thought that we should give them a go and try to get him to cash our checks (cheques you UK people)
Looking forward to it.
Here it means one thing. Snow. And lots of it. So much snow that if you open the door of your car and put the key in the ignition - accidentally triggering the windshield wipers; you end up with about 9 inches of snow under the electric seat of your car. I know, I tried it. I'm an idiot.
Went to see Bank Job yesterday and besides the ridiculous dialogue "Granted I've been known to get up to some skullduggery in the past..." it was actually all rather entertaining. In a 'here to enjoy the accents' kind of way.
Today saw us trawling the outlet markets for cheap designery things. And tonight we're driving up to Clarkston (home of Kid Rock and that woman who replaced Kirtsie Alley on the Jenny Craig ads for just long enough to allow the agency to find another fat celeb' that they could slim). Our landlord has a couple of restaurants there - so we thought that we should give them a go and try to get him to cash our checks (cheques you UK people)
Looking forward to it.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Back in the saddle
So my unexpected day off (we don't really DO Easter as a holiday in the US) turned into a surprise day in when I got a call last night asking me to attend an ad hoc meeting looking at final plans on my 'big project'
Sure, I said..
And as I'll be out of here way before lunch I really don't care at all. It's not as though I really had any plans for the day anyway besides walking the dog for a while and heading for the gym (note to self, charge i-pod)
Happy times yesterday. Got out while it was still light and went in search of something to eat... every restaurant full and buzzing. We eventually ended up having bad burgers (Tempeh for me) at a brew-pub before going on for Margheritas at a wee Cuban place where the lights are low enough and the music Latin enough to make even the customers look hot. Much fun.
Sure, I said..
And as I'll be out of here way before lunch I really don't care at all. It's not as though I really had any plans for the day anyway besides walking the dog for a while and heading for the gym (note to self, charge i-pod)
Happy times yesterday. Got out while it was still light and went in search of something to eat... every restaurant full and buzzing. We eventually ended up having bad burgers (Tempeh for me) at a brew-pub before going on for Margheritas at a wee Cuban place where the lights are low enough and the music Latin enough to make even the customers look hot. Much fun.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Relaxed
I'm bizarrely relaxed today. I have no idea why. The temperatures are still sub zero. I was still woken by the squealing of cats. The drive in to work was as long as ever (actually I enjoy the drive every day)... I still have a mountain of work to get through and I'm no nearer doing my first Sketchy's show - but for whatever reason the shoulders have dropped, the breathing is deeper and I can feel oxygen in my blood again.
It might be Pilates. It might be the fact that despite the cold signs of spring abound or it might just be the return of decent TV. I'm not sure what the cause may be but it's a good feeling.
And it's good to have a good feeling once in a while. Yesterday I was browsing cool things to do and realized that 7 of the 10 things that appealed to me were happening in Williamsburg, NY - our old neighborhood. I got this deep yearning to be back there. To be connected. To be within arm's reach of a scene that excited me. And then I got horribly maudlin. I miss New York. The buzz. The options. The walking. The subway. The photo opportunities.
But increasingly I like it here. The job is better. The apartment is great. I like having a car. The weather is improving to the point when you can actually go outside and this thaw is allowing culture to creep in and take root (there's an amazing looking film festival next week for example)... so chilled and expectant. That's good, right?
It might be Pilates. It might be the fact that despite the cold signs of spring abound or it might just be the return of decent TV. I'm not sure what the cause may be but it's a good feeling.
And it's good to have a good feeling once in a while. Yesterday I was browsing cool things to do and realized that 7 of the 10 things that appealed to me were happening in Williamsburg, NY - our old neighborhood. I got this deep yearning to be back there. To be connected. To be within arm's reach of a scene that excited me. And then I got horribly maudlin. I miss New York. The buzz. The options. The walking. The subway. The photo opportunities.
But increasingly I like it here. The job is better. The apartment is great. I like having a car. The weather is improving to the point when you can actually go outside and this thaw is allowing culture to creep in and take root (there's an amazing looking film festival next week for example)... so chilled and expectant. That's good, right?
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The glam' world of advertising
I'm sitting in a pre-production meeting talking about who would be the best people to put together animatics before we hire people to produce spots.
Animatics are a bizarre thing. You put together a piece of a cartoon that you whizz the camera over and then ask people to imagine what it would be like as a complete spot.
Of course people always think that you're suggesting an animated spot and reject whatever you've done based on the 'fact' that beer (or whatever) shouldn't be advertised in a style that is primarily suited to children.
It skews everything - but as the bias is built in to every spot then the baseline is set and you can get a bit of a read on how things work.
The cartoon boards and production time costs a fortune... but then shooting something with CGI and a real director costs a fortune, a kidney and a first born.
Somehow today feels less glam' than I'd imagined it would. But we're getting there.
Animatics are a bizarre thing. You put together a piece of a cartoon that you whizz the camera over and then ask people to imagine what it would be like as a complete spot.
Of course people always think that you're suggesting an animated spot and reject whatever you've done based on the 'fact' that beer (or whatever) shouldn't be advertised in a style that is primarily suited to children.
It skews everything - but as the bias is built in to every spot then the baseline is set and you can get a bit of a read on how things work.
The cartoon boards and production time costs a fortune... but then shooting something with CGI and a real director costs a fortune, a kidney and a first born.
Somehow today feels less glam' than I'd imagined it would. But we're getting there.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Back from the ad school
Spent yesterday at the Miami ad school. The weather was good, the work was good, the students were young, alive, alert and glowing with hope. Naiivety was in the air. As was talent. And fresh thinking. And the scent of frangipani. All in, quite an aphrodisiac.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
All too exciting
It seems that at every event we attend recently there's this shot to be taken. A kid, sitting apart, video game in hand, looking cold, disinterested and as though they're counting down the hours until they get back into World of Warcraft. Weirdly I don't blame them.
Despite the fact that it's a good 15c warmer here today than it was two weeks ago and despite the fact that the sun is out and the skies are blue (or blue-ish)... it's still freezing here as the runners in the St. Patrick's Day 10k go streaming by and the crowds stomp their feet as much to keep circulation going as to encourage their friends and realatives on.
Me - well I'm off to Miami tomorrow. So I care not a jot about the cold. Home alone tonight though (Jude eating with Professorial types) so it's crap TV and perhaps a glass of whisky or two.
Excellent
Despite the fact that it's a good 15c warmer here today than it was two weeks ago and despite the fact that the sun is out and the skies are blue (or blue-ish)... it's still freezing here as the runners in the St. Patrick's Day 10k go streaming by and the crowds stomp their feet as much to keep circulation going as to encourage their friends and realatives on.
Me - well I'm off to Miami tomorrow. So I care not a jot about the cold. Home alone tonight though (Jude eating with Professorial types) so it's crap TV and perhaps a glass of whisky or two.
Excellent
Saturday, March 15, 2008
one last piece
of fuckwittery....
I received a final bonus from my old company yesterday.
Very nice, very handy.
But for some reason they deducted only 4% tax.
Instead of 30%
So when I headed in to complete my tax return today I had to fill out a new form - costing me about $40 per line (tax accountants aren't cheap) bumping up the cost of filing taxes to $530 and wiping out my refund in the process.
I now owe the IRS $3700. I'd have paid it anyway, but it would have been a lot less of a hassle had it not been for one last, post grave piece of absolute fuckwittery.
I received a final bonus from my old company yesterday.
Very nice, very handy.
But for some reason they deducted only 4% tax.
Instead of 30%
So when I headed in to complete my tax return today I had to fill out a new form - costing me about $40 per line (tax accountants aren't cheap) bumping up the cost of filing taxes to $530 and wiping out my refund in the process.
I now owe the IRS $3700. I'd have paid it anyway, but it would have been a lot less of a hassle had it not been for one last, post grave piece of absolute fuckwittery.
Friday, March 14, 2008
5C - at night!!!
Last night I drove home in daylight. Yes, daylight. And Sunshine. And without the need for a heater in the car. It felt as though I was living another person's life. I felt lighter (actually I am lighter, 5lbs lighter in the last 2 weeks), more alive, more connected to the world.
Mind the world smelled of skunk. The first sign of spring is bringing the skunk out onto the roads in huge numbers... and the smell of skunk in the headlights lingers.
We also drove in to Detroit for an Ice Hockey game. The redwings beat an evil Dallas side (dressed all in black for effect) 5-3... all very loud and very thrilling. Actually the seats were good, the pizza was fresh and the crowd insane enough to make things entertaining even though the players threw barely a dozen punches between them.
Weekend keeps extending. Food with a Dutch Columbian tonight, detroit casino dancing tomorrow and then down to Miami and the ad' school on Monday for a spot of 'show us what you've got'... we gave them a 'live brief' 6 weeks ago and they're going to present the work back Monday. Should be good. And maybe I'll finally set up a date to teach down there. I love teaching. And advertising. And Miami. So that would be a GOOD THING.
Okay back to work with me
Mind the world smelled of skunk. The first sign of spring is bringing the skunk out onto the roads in huge numbers... and the smell of skunk in the headlights lingers.
We also drove in to Detroit for an Ice Hockey game. The redwings beat an evil Dallas side (dressed all in black for effect) 5-3... all very loud and very thrilling. Actually the seats were good, the pizza was fresh and the crowd insane enough to make things entertaining even though the players threw barely a dozen punches between them.
Weekend keeps extending. Food with a Dutch Columbian tonight, detroit casino dancing tomorrow and then down to Miami and the ad' school on Monday for a spot of 'show us what you've got'... we gave them a 'live brief' 6 weeks ago and they're going to present the work back Monday. Should be good. And maybe I'll finally set up a date to teach down there. I love teaching. And advertising. And Miami. So that would be a GOOD THING.
Okay back to work with me
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Jude enjoys The Venetian
So here we are, back in a slightly less frozen Michigan (only -1c when I left today) and getting ready for a bit of an extended weekend. We have Ice Hockey in Detroit tonight, a invitation for dinner tomorrow and drinks plus clubbing in a Detroit casino with our neighbors on Saturday.
Not sure quite where we'll find the energy actually. The Vegas thing was a killer in terms of flights and the clocks going forward when we were there. We've been dazed ever since. Or at least I have. I haven't seen too much of Jude due to the amount of time I've been putting in at work recently. All good stuff actually - getting close to launch on my first campaign here and the work is getting better and better just at the point when it usually stalls.
Anyway talking of work, I have to dash.
More tomorrow
Not sure quite where we'll find the energy actually. The Vegas thing was a killer in terms of flights and the clocks going forward when we were there. We've been dazed ever since. Or at least I have. I haven't seen too much of Jude due to the amount of time I've been putting in at work recently. All good stuff actually - getting close to launch on my first campaign here and the work is getting better and better just at the point when it usually stalls.
Anyway talking of work, I have to dash.
More tomorrow
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Not Dead
So we're back from Vegas - which was fun. And sunny. And had great shopping. In very weird malls. A real mixture of art and tat that felt more Australian than American.... well Australia with a budget.
The Venetian really is quite spectacular, The Bellagio has ridiculous lines for its buffet and Caesar's Place - well it's just as over the top and tacky as you could ever wish for.
Jude and I did some competitive shopping. She opened with Jimmy Choo slingbacks, I countered with a Christian LaCroix (Sweetie) suit. The bags drew lots of attention, to which I became addicted. So as Jude was whisked into the back and shown lots of size zero dresses in Donna Karan I was showered with champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and stories of who had had what done (butt implants on the girl in LaCroix my favorite). Throw in a very Michael jackson jacket for Jude (it got lots of favorable attention later) and you have a shopping trip.
We also did The Grand Canyon (the real one, not some shopping mall facsimilie) by 6 person plane, helicopter, boat and terrifyingly close to the edge walk. Loved it, other than I went in to photograph mode and spent most of the time looking at things through one eye, through glass and alone rather than sharing it with Jude. It's a bad habit of mine (I did the same at the Spice Girls) and one that I'm looking to break - Jude suggested a backpack for the camera, that way I can put it away; a very good suggestion.
Shows? Well the much maligned Zumanity - which was part low budget circus, part high rent burlesque and impressive non-the-less.
Gambling? Not really. Too much noise, too much smoke, too high a minimum on the tables and too many hen parties.
Next time we go we use The Wine Angel (pick your bottle by computerized tablet and she's hoisted into the air, flies across to your bottle and lands delicately tableside - though I bet that harness chafes)
Back in April and not a moment too soon
The Venetian really is quite spectacular, The Bellagio has ridiculous lines for its buffet and Caesar's Place - well it's just as over the top and tacky as you could ever wish for.
Jude and I did some competitive shopping. She opened with Jimmy Choo slingbacks, I countered with a Christian LaCroix (Sweetie) suit. The bags drew lots of attention, to which I became addicted. So as Jude was whisked into the back and shown lots of size zero dresses in Donna Karan I was showered with champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and stories of who had had what done (butt implants on the girl in LaCroix my favorite). Throw in a very Michael jackson jacket for Jude (it got lots of favorable attention later) and you have a shopping trip.
We also did The Grand Canyon (the real one, not some shopping mall facsimilie) by 6 person plane, helicopter, boat and terrifyingly close to the edge walk. Loved it, other than I went in to photograph mode and spent most of the time looking at things through one eye, through glass and alone rather than sharing it with Jude. It's a bad habit of mine (I did the same at the Spice Girls) and one that I'm looking to break - Jude suggested a backpack for the camera, that way I can put it away; a very good suggestion.
Shows? Well the much maligned Zumanity - which was part low budget circus, part high rent burlesque and impressive non-the-less.
Gambling? Not really. Too much noise, too much smoke, too high a minimum on the tables and too many hen parties.
Next time we go we use The Wine Angel (pick your bottle by computerized tablet and she's hoisted into the air, flies across to your bottle and lands delicately tableside - though I bet that harness chafes)
Back in April and not a moment too soon
Friday, March 07, 2008
Off to Vegas
Home of gambling, hookers, strippers, lapdancers, replicas, wedding chapels, Elvis look-a-likes and Michael Jackson.
All pretty cool. My vow though is to see the world through both eyes, not just the viewfinder of a camera. We'll see whether or not that happens.
A friend yesterday had a much better way to sully the McCain presidential bid. He refers to the ex-prisoner of war only as "Ex Prisoner John McCain"
His logic? That if you call him an "ex-prisoner" often enough people will start to wonder just what it was that he did wrong and whether we should elect an ex-con.
An elegant distortion of truth that involves no lies. Brilliant.
All pretty cool. My vow though is to see the world through both eyes, not just the viewfinder of a camera. We'll see whether or not that happens.
A friend yesterday had a much better way to sully the McCain presidential bid. He refers to the ex-prisoner of war only as "Ex Prisoner John McCain"
His logic? That if you call him an "ex-prisoner" often enough people will start to wonder just what it was that he did wrong and whether we should elect an ex-con.
An elegant distortion of truth that involves no lies. Brilliant.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Dirty Politics
I've decided that the US political system is only interesting when there are some dirty politics going on.
For example - during the last election the Democrats nominated a genuine war hero who'd also managed to speak out against pointless violence. This they thought would help them. John Kerry could be by both stronger and more manly than the war dodging army deserter Bush (remember that Bush has gone missing for months from his cushy, never go to war post, off whoring and drinking) but could also talk about ending war.
Good plan - until the Repubicans smeared Kerry with their Swiftboat campaign, painting him as a war cowerd who somehow weasled his medals out of the American army whilst singing "I hate America" and drowning babies born on the Fourth of July.
Kerry sank.
So it's time to throw some mud people. Time to put these candidates on the back foot and see how they respond. I have a few suggestions.
Bill Clinton DIDN'T have sexual relations with "that woman" - Hillary did. Hillary then 'harvested' Bills sperm and put it on Lewinsky's dress herself - in a bid to have him impeached and allow her to take over the Whitehouse in a coup de wronged wife. The truth was hidden from the world as Bill decided to take the fall rather than allow Hillary to take her communist agenda any further.
John McCain of course has a worse secret. he makes ice replicas of his genitals (using a mould he had made in Vietnam where he spent years setting up Nike sweatshops) and then feeds them to his dogs whilst 'pleasuring himself'
And of course Barack Hussein Obama - is a radical Muslim sent to destroy us all.
Get out of those without moving, candidates
For example - during the last election the Democrats nominated a genuine war hero who'd also managed to speak out against pointless violence. This they thought would help them. John Kerry could be by both stronger and more manly than the war dodging army deserter Bush (remember that Bush has gone missing for months from his cushy, never go to war post, off whoring and drinking) but could also talk about ending war.
Good plan - until the Repubicans smeared Kerry with their Swiftboat campaign, painting him as a war cowerd who somehow weasled his medals out of the American army whilst singing "I hate America" and drowning babies born on the Fourth of July.
Kerry sank.
So it's time to throw some mud people. Time to put these candidates on the back foot and see how they respond. I have a few suggestions.
Bill Clinton DIDN'T have sexual relations with "that woman" - Hillary did. Hillary then 'harvested' Bills sperm and put it on Lewinsky's dress herself - in a bid to have him impeached and allow her to take over the Whitehouse in a coup de wronged wife. The truth was hidden from the world as Bill decided to take the fall rather than allow Hillary to take her communist agenda any further.
John McCain of course has a worse secret. he makes ice replicas of his genitals (using a mould he had made in Vietnam where he spent years setting up Nike sweatshops) and then feeds them to his dogs whilst 'pleasuring himself'
And of course Barack Hussein Obama - is a radical Muslim sent to destroy us all.
Get out of those without moving, candidates
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
What a day
So in a race tighter than Jordan's reconstructed vagina we saw Hillary fight back in Texas and Ohio - winning the states that she needed to stay in the race and bringing the delegate count almost back to level.
Most interesting was that (like Jordan) it was a last minute surge that put her over the top. In Ohio she beat out Obama in both people who had decided on their vote in the last 24 hrs and the last 3 days - showing that she has momentum.
She was hot with the grannies and with 'white folks'. Hot for people who see the economy or health as the most important issue and amongst registered Democrats.
Texas told the same story.
One other fact - women made up 59% of the Ohio vote (she grabbed 57% of their votes to Obamas 41%) and they mode up 57% of the Texan vote (where she carried them 55 to 44)
The Republicans had more men voting in both primaries.
More importantly Idol News. It seems that the lispy queen who appears to be auditioning for Project Runway rather than Idol isn't the only closet case they have. They also have a guy who until very recently was a stripper in a gay club. That doesn't make him a gay stripper of course but expect twisted hands and clanging rosaries from Paula.
Then there's the rock and roll nurse who sings like a tone deaf Bonnie Tyler and has a habit of wrapping her cars around trees. Seems that the second habit may be connected to her liking the odd drink whilst behind the wheel. Booo - bad Idol. Expect children in their millions to emulate her.
And expect Frenchie Davies - the woman kicked off an early season for having posed for 'racy internet shots' to turn up and go postal. She may have been a net ho - but she wasn't a drunk driving, crotch grinding, homo ho!
And on that message of hate I leave you
Most interesting was that (like Jordan) it was a last minute surge that put her over the top. In Ohio she beat out Obama in both people who had decided on their vote in the last 24 hrs and the last 3 days - showing that she has momentum.
She was hot with the grannies and with 'white folks'. Hot for people who see the economy or health as the most important issue and amongst registered Democrats.
Texas told the same story.
One other fact - women made up 59% of the Ohio vote (she grabbed 57% of their votes to Obamas 41%) and they mode up 57% of the Texan vote (where she carried them 55 to 44)
The Republicans had more men voting in both primaries.
More importantly Idol News. It seems that the lispy queen who appears to be auditioning for Project Runway rather than Idol isn't the only closet case they have. They also have a guy who until very recently was a stripper in a gay club. That doesn't make him a gay stripper of course but expect twisted hands and clanging rosaries from Paula.
Then there's the rock and roll nurse who sings like a tone deaf Bonnie Tyler and has a habit of wrapping her cars around trees. Seems that the second habit may be connected to her liking the odd drink whilst behind the wheel. Booo - bad Idol. Expect children in their millions to emulate her.
And expect Frenchie Davies - the woman kicked off an early season for having posed for 'racy internet shots' to turn up and go postal. She may have been a net ho - but she wasn't a drunk driving, crotch grinding, homo ho!
And on that message of hate I leave you
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