Friday, April 28, 2006

Zen Graffiti

I have been having a think about graffiti.

Not the art kind (which has a purpose) or band names or whatever as 'advertisements' (see Alleschwindel), or even funny phrases (see Plankton!). After all, I'd have about half as many photos in this silly little webpage if it weren't for them.

The ones I wonder about are the more prosaic ones. The 'I was ere' and its equivalents. Just... why? I mean, what's the point of scratching your name and the date into a wall, or biro-ing it on a door?

Inherent need to prove your own existence? To make a difference? To be noticed for something? To show that you do have the power to change your physical surroundings, albeit in a infinitesimal way?

Considering the type to do this form of graffiti, I'd say low self-esteem and lack of self-worth might factor in there somewhere.

Or am I just putting way too much thought into this?

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Cooking with Hieronymus.

First, wash and peel your Hieronymus...

No, wait. Start over.

Ok, I have a quick and yummy recipe for you, my faithful readers. Imagine it as a gift. A gift of food. Not actual food, though, so more a gift of knowledge.

This serves two.

Ingredients

Two chicken breasts
5 rashers of smoked bacon
1 red onion
1-2 leeks (depending on the size of 'em)
100g of garlic and herb cream cheese.

Preparation

Dice the chicken into approximately 1cm squares.
Cut the bacon into strips approximately 1cm across and 5cm long.
Chop the leek and onion to whatever size pleases you.

Gently fry the chicken until it starts to turn golden, then add the bacon, leek and onion.
Once they're cooked through, add the cream cheese and stir until melted.
Serve with potatoes.

It's very, very tasty.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

She is drawn to the fire (some people never learn)...

First of all: Yes, I suck. I haven't been updating with my usual manic regularity. I've been depressed recently (Oh yay! Self pitying excuses!) and haven't felt like it.

So here's a bunch of stuff.

1) We went past the theatre where they're staging 'Jerry Springer: The Opera' on Monday. There was a whole group of protestors outside with banners and things, chanting. My favourite two banners were 'Is this what Jesus died for?' and, even better, 'The Gospel way, not the wayward gay!' They also had a guy dressed up as Jesus, covered in fake blood, and carrying a cross (Well, I say 'carrying'... he'd just leant it up against a wall.)

Then they started singing loudly and shouting about their freedom of religion. What about my freedom of religion? For goodness' sake.

Mind you, I'm suspicious. They were doing a great job advertising the show. I think they might have been double agents.

2) After my plans to make Frog Trek, a remake of original series Star Trek using red, blue and yellow Poison Dart Frogs*, I've now come up with the follow-up feature... A remake of West Side Story using Canadian geese and squirrels (Chuck, you really shouldn't encourage me). The geese would obviously be the Sharks, and the squirrels the Jets. I need a lot of money and a contact who can get me animals, and I'm set!

*Jobs are still available for make-up, costumes, boom operators and camerapersons. Probably others that I don't remember too. Like key grips, or best boys, whatever the hell they are.

3) Here's an interesting wiki article (amazingly, not a mutually exclusive statement) on Treasure Island.

4) Nettie's leaving for Scotland in two weeks now. Hands up who's terrified and excited all at once?* I'm sure a minute ago it was months away. Anyway, yay! I can't wait!

*If you raised your hand, you're an idiot. I can't see you, and I didn't say 'Simon says'.

Ok, I'm done.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Now That's What I Call Rambling...

Poetry

Smut

by Tom Lehrer

All books can be indecent books
Though recent books are bolder;
For filth, I'm glad to say, is in
The mind of the beholder.
When correctly viewed
Everything is lewd.
I could tell you things about Peter Pan
And the Wizard of Oz, there's a dirty old man.


To a Small Boy Standing on my Shoes While I am Wearing Them

by Ogden Nash

Let’s straighten this out, my little man,
And reach an agreement if we can.
I entered your door as an honored guest.
My shoes are shined and my trousers are pressed,
And I won’t stretch out and read you the funnies
And I won’t pretend that we’re Easter bunnies.
If you must get somebody down on the floor,
What in the hell are your parents for?
I do not like the things that you say
And I hate the games that you want to play.
No matter how frightfully hard you try,
We’ve little in common, you and I.
The interest I take in my neighbor’s nursery
Would have to grow, to be even cursory,
And I would that performing sons and nephews
Were carted away with the daily refuse,
And I hold that frolicsome daughters and nieces
Are ample excuse for breaking leases.
You may take a sock at your daddy’s tummy
Or climb all over your doting mummy,
But keep your attentions to me in check,
Or, sonny boy, I will wring your neck.
A happier man today I’d be
Had someone wrung it ahead of me.

Now, I am supposed to be an artist... at least I think so...

So I really have no excuse for the following images I made excepting, perhaps, a weak "Collage isn't my forte." That and it was my way of occupying myself between small children asking me inane questions during my workshops.

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Back Dormitory Boys

The Back Dormitory Boys are Wei Wei and Huang Yi Xin, and they are university students at Guangzhou Arts Institute. Their roommate Xiao Jing is, in most of their videos, playing Counter Strike in the background, adding a rather surreal twist to them, in my opinion.

Their spoof music videos have been selected by Motorola China to promote mobile phones.

I thought I saw them in a Feeder video recently, provoking all this research, but it doesn't seem to have been them after all. Mouse? Did you get a chance to check yet?

Their (English) blog.

An article.

One of their videos (although you can see more on their blog).

They make me laugh, anyway.

Ummm, my weekend went well. Had a good Easter Day with lots of crying with laughter along with my siblings, then went clubbing that night, and took a CD of Laugh Like Pa along to the club (DKY), and our good friend Gareth played them for us. Only six of us were dancing (Me, Matt, Rowenna, Chris, and a friend of ours and his girlfriend), but one of our friends went up to ask Gareth what it was he was playing, and another friend said that she hadn't realised it was a local band - she'd thought it was by a 'proper' band, and it was just a song she hadn't heard yet. So that's pretty good for their first playing in a club.

Anyway, I hope you all had a good Easter (or whatever), and I'll be back soon.

Hugs and kisses,
Me.

PS That's all the stuff from the last eight days crammed into one. I can't remember the last time I left this for eight days. Having said that, it was probably really recently, but my brain has run out. Where's my recharger?

PS(2) Ok, I'll stop.

PS(3) I didn't mean PS2 as in the games console.

PS(4) Ok, shut up now. Done? Yes? Good.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Videos! For your eyes! (And other links...)

The internet is for porn!

That made me laugh myself sick...

The Tauren's Kilt.

Losers on the internet.

The Museum of Bad Album Covers.

The Advertising Slogan Generator.

Uncle Shelby's ABZ's.

Rasta Jesus!

Audio of Samuel L. Jackson from Snakes on a Plane.

Whew, I'm spent for now. Was it good for you too?
I need a cigarette.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Monsters

Having had a think about it, I'm going to keep this thing going for as long as I enjoy it.

As for today:

Firstly, I apologise for the melodramatic sound of yesterday's post.

It wasn't supposed to be a (hideous, emo-kid, LJ crap) rallying cry for you all to tell me how I should keep on blogging. It was merely that, for the first time, I have to admit that the blog is about me and my experiences, thoughts and opinions, rather than a diary of happenings under the Bridge (with asides). I've not got the option of hiding behind that any more, and it's scary.

Since you're all bright people, you'll have worked that out already, but you know me - it takes me a while to catch up.

So, in order to scupper your (frankly, rather odd) expectations of me (funny and insightful entries? keen insights? What are you guys smoking?), here's a list of what was in my bag when I cleaned it out yesterday evening.

In order of extraction:

About 47 receipts
3 books
Sketchpad
Pirate gloves
Double-headed teddy bear
Newspaper
Work badge
Purse
Broken MP3 player clip
2 packets of painkillers
Lipstick
MP3 player
Camera
Bit of paper with a friend's email address scrawled on it
2 sets of keys
Eyeliner
Keyring of a 'guardian angel' (broken off one of my keys)
Lip gloss
Concealer
Pair of hair clips
Screw
Lighter
Pirate tin
3 hairbands
2 pens
Pencil
6p in pennies
Chewing gum


ETA: From Nettie and LaMa's comments, I feel I should post this picture.

No, it's not what one would call a handbag.
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Death of the BDP.

*Dons a black cap*

Ladies and gentlemen, it has come to my attention that never again shall there be Pigeon corpses liberally strewed beneath the Bridge. Never again shall I have to raise my umbrella to avoid being spattered with avian poo.

Possibly because of the threat of bird flu, possibly just because the local authorities do not have the same appreciation of Dead Pigeons as I do...

...there is now a fine netting strung below the metal girders. The Pigeons have no roosts. All is calm, all is clean, all is over.

I'm a little thrown, to be honest. I mean, that was originally the point of this blog. Admittedly, the blog's been a little wandering, and there hadn't been a whole lot of Dead Pigeons recently, but the option (and opportunity) was always there.
Maybe the end of the BDP should spell the end of the blog too... I don't know. It's just weird.

*lone bugle plays mournfully*