Sewwwwwwwww good.
x
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
NYC i would sell my soul to see thee
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Bridges are Boss
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| Webb Bridge, Melbourne. Not entirely aesthtically pleasing but pretty cool |
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| Nescio Bridge in Amsterdam- enviromentally sustainable and everything. |
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| Internal structure of chinese footbridge- sthuper kewl |
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| Pedestrian Bridge in ZhuJiaJiao China. BOSS |
Monday, September 13, 2010
Lessons in Spanish and self responsibility
OK guys, sorry I concede i have been ubiquitously (yeah big word BAM) useless at updating ze old blog. In my defence I believe there have been some mildly good reasons for my laziness-
Uno- I got my wisdom teeth out (technically this was only last Friday so this can only account for the lack of posting the weekend just gone. Horrible experience, would not recommend it to anyone. Will be starting an anally retentive dental hygiene campaign once my wounded gummies heal up (disclaimer: this is not meant to imply that i am in anyway lacking in dental hygiene... I am not, I just mean I will be upping the ante against the horror that is plaque!)
Dos- I really really want to do a review of Celine Rita's summer line 'Madeline' but I am waiting for the right moment where I'm actually able to write and do the girl some justice... I have writers block of a sort i guess, not that the line isn't inspiring (because it totally is), more just because I myself am uninspired in just general life terms...
Three- (unsure what the Spanish for three is... wait i know, it is TRES? Yes. No? I dunno, someone smart sort that out for me) I entered this fashion blogging competition, which I lost (yeah super sad, in therapy, trying to come to terms with life, parents have removed sharp objects from my immediate reach etc etc you know how it is...), anyhoooo before I lost the thing I was vigorously campaigning, borderline harassing individuals to vote for me which took up significant amounts of my very busy life. My last word on this: slutty photo's don't make you a winner do they? (shame :p- note emoticon is indicating raspberry-like tongue poking as opposed to the cute poking out tongue that 12 year old girls use when they write to Justin Beiber)
Quatro- (woop! Clearly brain has not entirely gone to mush... I can remember what four is! Though, this has me concerned- do I have early onset dementia? Maybe I'm not watching enough Dora to keep up to date with my Spanish) I just haven't been moved by life of recent, no-ones done anything particularly offensive or annoying to cause me to launch into my usual diatribe of hatred and cynicism. Maybe I'm becoming nice? Scary thought
At the risk of launching into false promises about what I will or won't do re. the blog updates I actually will try and post some stuff on a more regular basis. In fact I'm going to go on a wee rampage just now because I have actually found some sweet sweet stuff of recent that has triggered my re-entry into the virtual world!
x
Uno- I got my wisdom teeth out (technically this was only last Friday so this can only account for the lack of posting the weekend just gone. Horrible experience, would not recommend it to anyone. Will be starting an anally retentive dental hygiene campaign once my wounded gummies heal up (disclaimer: this is not meant to imply that i am in anyway lacking in dental hygiene... I am not, I just mean I will be upping the ante against the horror that is plaque!)
Dos- I really really want to do a review of Celine Rita's summer line 'Madeline' but I am waiting for the right moment where I'm actually able to write and do the girl some justice... I have writers block of a sort i guess, not that the line isn't inspiring (because it totally is), more just because I myself am uninspired in just general life terms...
Three- (unsure what the Spanish for three is... wait i know, it is TRES? Yes. No? I dunno, someone smart sort that out for me) I entered this fashion blogging competition, which I lost (yeah super sad, in therapy, trying to come to terms with life, parents have removed sharp objects from my immediate reach etc etc you know how it is...), anyhoooo before I lost the thing I was vigorously campaigning, borderline harassing individuals to vote for me which took up significant amounts of my very busy life. My last word on this: slutty photo's don't make you a winner do they? (shame :p- note emoticon is indicating raspberry-like tongue poking as opposed to the cute poking out tongue that 12 year old girls use when they write to Justin Beiber)
Quatro- (woop! Clearly brain has not entirely gone to mush... I can remember what four is! Though, this has me concerned- do I have early onset dementia? Maybe I'm not watching enough Dora to keep up to date with my Spanish) I just haven't been moved by life of recent, no-ones done anything particularly offensive or annoying to cause me to launch into my usual diatribe of hatred and cynicism. Maybe I'm becoming nice? Scary thought
At the risk of launching into false promises about what I will or won't do re. the blog updates I actually will try and post some stuff on a more regular basis. In fact I'm going to go on a wee rampage just now because I have actually found some sweet sweet stuff of recent that has triggered my re-entry into the virtual world!
x
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Real indies write in Moleskines
Real indies write in Moleskines. In pencil (that's more indie you see...)
If they have a Macbook they carry it in their vintage-chic bohemian bag or a cotton bookbag branded with some obscure intellectual/ironic quote "WE did not. right HERE"
The true indie doesn't even listen to indie music. Now that it has legitimigised itself as its own autonomous genre the indie is forever seeking out a more underground and unconventional music style to fulfil their audial requirements. They need not even like the music, the more disliked it is- the better. Vampire Weekend does not count.
Indies proclaim a love of Gonzo journalism, not entirely sure of exactly what it is, when questioned about it they say "well it's all aesthetics isn't it" (uh huh... yes I'm sure it is...). They usually have a limited understanding of the current state of politics as they generally are living circa 1970's-1990's in some vicarious form- through philosophy, dress or obsession with the intellectual discourse of the time. Also, if you haven't figured this out by now- all indies are smart. Yes. Genius even.
Some indies like to pretend that they are dressed in op-shop clothes. This is usually a lie and their outfit is usually a very stylised concoction of zambesi pieces and vintage designer labels. Other indies would have you believe that they do not own mirrors. This too, is a lie. They like to look like bag ladies.
Indies also never eat. This applies to both males and females. FAT IS NOT OKAY PEOPLE
Wish you were indie?
x
If they have a Macbook they carry it in their vintage-chic bohemian bag or a cotton bookbag branded with some obscure intellectual/ironic quote "WE did not. right HERE"
The true indie doesn't even listen to indie music. Now that it has legitimigised itself as its own autonomous genre the indie is forever seeking out a more underground and unconventional music style to fulfil their audial requirements. They need not even like the music, the more disliked it is- the better. Vampire Weekend does not count.
Indies proclaim a love of Gonzo journalism, not entirely sure of exactly what it is, when questioned about it they say "well it's all aesthetics isn't it" (uh huh... yes I'm sure it is...). They usually have a limited understanding of the current state of politics as they generally are living circa 1970's-1990's in some vicarious form- through philosophy, dress or obsession with the intellectual discourse of the time. Also, if you haven't figured this out by now- all indies are smart. Yes. Genius even.
Some indies like to pretend that they are dressed in op-shop clothes. This is usually a lie and their outfit is usually a very stylised concoction of zambesi pieces and vintage designer labels. Other indies would have you believe that they do not own mirrors. This too, is a lie. They like to look like bag ladies.
Indies also never eat. This applies to both males and females. FAT IS NOT OKAY PEOPLE
Wish you were indie?
x
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Books are my boyfriend
Sad, but true. Books are far easier than people to deal with- for starters they don't talk back, it's their job to entertain you and you can shut them and put them away and pick them up again whenever it is most convenient for you.
You don't have to worry about being witty or cute or whatever romantic stereotype you're supposed to fulfil, hey, you don't even have to look decent to date your bounded, paged, typefaced friend. Books aren't needy or jealous, they don't play whacky mind games with you and they are also portable- able to be taken anywhere, by train, car, boat or plane without the bother of having to fork out extra cash. Books are also very economically viable, they don't eat or drink, require Birthday or Christmas presents and if you get bored of a book you can always get a bit of cash back by exchanging him at your local second bookshop. The range of books is also extensive... interested in a wild romance, a easy to read best seller, a handsome mysterious crime novel, all can be acquired within your local bookstore shelf...
Are you weirded out yet? I'm actually not insane (I swear this statement is becoming more and more necessary in these posts) I think just lazy. My tolerance and patience to deal with another human being is between zero and .... well, zero. Maybe I should re-ignite the cat lady dream, I figure if you're going to be a spinster you may as well do it on a grandiose scale...
Being an old lady with a house full of books is nowhere near as exciting as abusing your neighbours from a rickety rocking chair on your front veranda with a small army of cats negotiating their way through your overgrown front garden... to quote the model of this dream, Mrs Dubose, as found in Harper Lee's 'To Kill a Mockingbird', "Don;t say hey to me you ugly girl!"
You don't have to worry about being witty or cute or whatever romantic stereotype you're supposed to fulfil, hey, you don't even have to look decent to date your bounded, paged, typefaced friend. Books aren't needy or jealous, they don't play whacky mind games with you and they are also portable- able to be taken anywhere, by train, car, boat or plane without the bother of having to fork out extra cash. Books are also very economically viable, they don't eat or drink, require Birthday or Christmas presents and if you get bored of a book you can always get a bit of cash back by exchanging him at your local second bookshop. The range of books is also extensive... interested in a wild romance, a easy to read best seller, a handsome mysterious crime novel, all can be acquired within your local bookstore shelf...
Are you weirded out yet? I'm actually not insane (I swear this statement is becoming more and more necessary in these posts) I think just lazy. My tolerance and patience to deal with another human being is between zero and .... well, zero. Maybe I should re-ignite the cat lady dream, I figure if you're going to be a spinster you may as well do it on a grandiose scale...
Being an old lady with a house full of books is nowhere near as exciting as abusing your neighbours from a rickety rocking chair on your front veranda with a small army of cats negotiating their way through your overgrown front garden... to quote the model of this dream, Mrs Dubose, as found in Harper Lee's 'To Kill a Mockingbird', "Don;t say hey to me you ugly girl!"
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Curiouser and Curiouser...
We all know as a humans, we're a pretty weird kind of species. Behaviour- pretty odd. Aesthetics- below average for most. Intelligence- dubious in all cases. I am starting to see however, that people are a touch (or 5 touches) more crazy than you usually give them credit for.
I have been exposed to all kind of whacky behaviour of recent... not to say that in using "exposed" I am discounting myself in anyway from the aforementioned whacky behaviour- it is, after all, pretty clear I'm a few screws short in a variety of areas (not to go into too many specifics but... directional abilities, sight, hearing, stair ascendancy and descendancy, sleeping, obsessions with wizards etc etc). But, I digress, the whacky behaviour of others has led me to question the sanity of people... why the hell do some people make the decisions that they do? Given a set of circumstances, recent experience would suggest to me that the human race likes to screw things up as much as possible- taking the most precarious route to come to a decision, ultimately ignoring other people entirely slash committing themselves to a situation that one could only assume they enjoy as some sort of sadistic pleasure.
This onslaught of the very euphemistically labeled 'curious' behaviour is seriously starting to grind my gears. Weirdo, whacko, selective behaviour is just pretty herp to tell you the truth. They have drugs for your multiple personalities and obvious anxiety issues and insecurities. Hook yourself up with those pretty little balls of happiness. Talk to your doctor, consult the local crack-fiend... whatever it takes. SORT IT OUT.
x
I have been exposed to all kind of whacky behaviour of recent... not to say that in using "exposed" I am discounting myself in anyway from the aforementioned whacky behaviour- it is, after all, pretty clear I'm a few screws short in a variety of areas (not to go into too many specifics but... directional abilities, sight, hearing, stair ascendancy and descendancy, sleeping, obsessions with wizards etc etc). But, I digress, the whacky behaviour of others has led me to question the sanity of people... why the hell do some people make the decisions that they do? Given a set of circumstances, recent experience would suggest to me that the human race likes to screw things up as much as possible- taking the most precarious route to come to a decision, ultimately ignoring other people entirely slash committing themselves to a situation that one could only assume they enjoy as some sort of sadistic pleasure.
This onslaught of the very euphemistically labeled 'curious' behaviour is seriously starting to grind my gears. Weirdo, whacko, selective behaviour is just pretty herp to tell you the truth. They have drugs for your multiple personalities and obvious anxiety issues and insecurities. Hook yourself up with those pretty little balls of happiness. Talk to your doctor, consult the local crack-fiend... whatever it takes. SORT IT OUT.
x
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