I wasn’t going to post another blog until tomorrow night, but I just came across this little gem and if I don’t share it with you right this minute, I couldn’t live with myself for depriving you of such a stellar slice of cheese.
It’s a Finnish cover of The Village People’s“YMCA”, by ’70s rokk ikkons Gregorious. Remember them?
No, me neither, but I hear they were HUGE in Finland.
I don’t care what anyone says, any video featuring scoop shorts, tube socks and an electric organ has to be good.
This video makes me happy.
Just watch. You won’t regret it:
And if you can’t get enough of those wonderful Finns and their cutting-edge choreography and fashion sense, CLICK HERE.
I am booking a holiday to Finland tomorrow. Anyone care to join me?
Ok, I’m taking my poor, sleep deprived self off to bed. I will endeavour to be back tomorrow, to begin posting the seemingly endless backlog of photo blogs I have pending… oyy…
Modobs wants to know which celebrity I’d spend time with on a desert island.
It’s a new tag. Woohoo!
Although, there is a really big part of me that just really doesn’t want to go there.
Why, you ask?
Well, I’ve been known to have odd taste in men. At least that’s what I’ve been told. I prefer to think of myself as umm… eclectic? I really don’t have a “type”. People appeal to me for different reasons, and it’s more often than not, it’s some kind of talent or cerebral connection that makes me all hot and bothered. I also change crushes almost as often as I change my underwear – which is quite often, I’m sure you’re pleased to know.
I sometimes also fancy people that even I wouldn’t expect.
I said I don’t have a type, but if I did, he doesn’t fit it. He’s showy, he wears tacky jewellery and his contrived “too cool for school” image would normally be enough to turn me off quite spectacularly. Not to mention that unintentionally hilarious theme song for his show. Did nobody have the guts to tell him that he can’t sing? That said, I still get it stuck in my head for days on end…
However.
The guy is fucking sexy. His show has been on repeating on late night TV for the last few weeks here and I’m hooked.
Almost everything he does is an illusion, but dang it’s impressive. He’s a master of sleight of hand and his stunts are insane. Everything from having a Humvee drive onto his chest whilst lying on a bed of spikes, to purposely getting struck by lightning and trying to blow himself up with dynamite.
He likes to push the boundaries, and that to me, is sexy. He can conjure me up some coconuts any time.
Here is Criss being hit by a car at high speed. As you do.
… and here’s one of his many tricks he perfoms on the unsuspecting public in the street. Almonds and plums into cockroaches, yum!
Looking for photos of him tonight, I noticed that he has a really bad haircut now. I might not like him anymore.
Verka Serduchka is a comedic character, and could best be described as Ukraine’s answer to Dame Edna Everage.
Verka came second (representing Ukraine) in this year’s Eurovision Song Contest. He/she was the hot favourite to win, but was tragically pipped at the post by that mob from Serbia… [sob]
Before the Eurovision final, Jules sent me a video of Verka’s entry in the competition, Dancing Lasha Tumbai and I was transfixed. I think you either love her or hate him/her. If nothing else, you have to laugh. This song just makes me so very happy…
So, I have a crush on a drag queen (who is by all reports not gay… so that’s something in my favour), and imagine my joy when I discovered that the man under the sparkly headwear is so dashingly handsome, I want to have his babies. Immediately.
The only photo of him on the internet – and it’s not even a good one.
Watch this instead. It’s a rather clever video featuring a duet and tango between Verka and her alter ego (see above), Andrey Danilko, who is a rather talented composer apart from Verka. He really is rather gorgeous…
So. As a result of this year’s Eurovision, I now have a rather obnoxious fetish for eastern European accents and cheesy Europop novelty songs. I think I need help. Especially since just this week I purchased 3 cd’s by Verka Serduchka on Ebay (AU$40 for the three including postage – bargain!) from someone in the Ukraine. The cd’s don’t even have english lettering on them. It’s all in that crazy Ukranian/Russian chirography.
[sigh]
I am a poor, lost soul…
So there you go modobs. Are you happy now I have revealed my ridiculous taste in men to the entire interweb? Then again, it could be worse… I could have picked Julian MacMahon… Teehee!
Something I have noted with keen interest, since I started this blog, is the growth in number and evolution (for want of a better word) of search engine terms people have typed, to end up on my blog.
For some time, they were fairly run of the mill. Of course, once I started bringing sex into the equation, no matter how benign the reference, things began to get interesting.
For a while I was seeing copious results for “huge tits”. There must have been a couple of hundred at least, over the space of about two months.
There was a point when I realised “huge tits” was being replaced by “sweaty breasts”. Huge tits I could understand, but sweaty breasts? No idea…
It seems that “sweaty breasts”, has now, for all intents and purposes, been replaced by “bruised tits”.
Although I know how (see comments), they got here by searching for that term , I’m somewhat disturbed by the volume of enquiries and the violent implications of such a fetish. I don’t like it. It hurts to think about it – especially at this time of the month. Anytime.
Speaking of disturbing things, the under age enquiries of a sexual nature are so far from welcome……………………..
If you’re here for anything like that and you’re still reading, piss the fuck off right now. Instant Karma’s gonna get you……
Then, there is the interesting evolvement of the bondage/fetish queries. I get a lot of those. A LOT. The thing about the bondage queries is that they started off quite innocuous, as far as bondage queries go, but there has been a recent shift.
Allow me to illustrate with a few choice examples:
brown showers – If it wasn’t for Stiletto mentioning it in my comments, I’d have no idea this was so common…
bondage shitting
bondage india
muslim bondage
british bondage – obviously we’re culturally specific with our bondage fetishes…
wedding bondage
cast bondage
fetish colonoscopy – I didn’t expect to see this one. I’ve had more colonoscopys than I care to remember, and I’ve never, ever found it a pleasurable experience…
bondage cake – please explain?
furry in bondage
hot women taking a shit – ok…..
sink plug gag bondage
apple bondage – leave the apples alone! Poor apples…
face alfoil
puke bondage – oh, now please. You might want to see someone about that.
milking machine bondage
ice bondage female
grandpa bondage – go grandpa! hunh….
mummy bondage – are we talking mummys as in egypt, or is this yet another Oedipal complex?
********************
There are variations on all of these, but it’s becoming more and more puzzling, because I’m not quite sure how most of them end up here. I really don’t talk all that much about sex. Or, do I?
Naturally, I’ve just made it 10 times worse by posting all these again. Isn’t it fun?
We shall see.
Feel free to post some of your own search oddities.
I’m curious.
What’s a blog of mine without pictorial diversion? Here’s one for the coffee lovers….
I’m a little confused. She’s run out of tissues? There’s a touch of the Ponds Institute about this.
I don’t think I’ve ever come across a brand of toilet paper that I’d want to drag across my face, save for err…. running out of tissues when I have a cold. Is this a real advertisement?
(And yes, I do know who Lard is. Doesn’t change the fact this is a slightly odd album cover…)
It’s always nice to have a family Optometrist, don’t you think?
By the way, can someone tell me what a “Hofer” is? Anyone?
There is a holiday for Percussion? Brilliant.
I’m always up for a day off work, count me in. I have a wicked tambourine.
I can play it, too. Topless.
Ooh. This one asks all the hard questions.
Does it mean that if you are a Christian, your lifeless body will end up in an ugly coffin with an excitable ruched trim? I have to say that this is not an appealing option to me. The curtains do not help.
Apparently it’s a “message”.
Is it just me, or does this read like a threat?
Far out! That’s where I’ve been going wrong.
You see, I like jazz. I like swing, and some big band, but most modern jazz leaves me cold. That was until I saw the range of headwear available for the “jet set” jazz listener.
The boots are pretty cool, too.
[adds Dave Pike to her download list]
So, that would be all for this edition of Vinyl Beauties. Please feel free to leave your own interpretations…
After my last post about vibrators, you ought to see how much search engine traffic I get containing the word “vibrator” now. Second only to “huge tits”, which comes in at around 100 or so search matches and climbing rapidly. The thing is, I’m still trying to work out exactly where I used the phrase “huge tits” anywhere in my blog. I assume it has something to do with the “Max Strikes Again” post, seeing as I did make mention of my bra size in that particular posting. Actually, it’s most likely in the comment section. Just like I get a tonne of traffic looking for the Sybian since Firm so thoughtfully mentioned it in a comment a while back. Sorry to disappoint you, people! Nothing to see here…
…although I daresay I’ve probably doubled my search engine traffic just by writing that paragraph. Hah!
Oh, the other thing about the “huge tits” result, is that I did a Google search on that very term myself and I was nowhere to be seen. Well, I gave up after about page 17, but who goes back that far? Must be some other dodgy search engine…
I have a couple of little gems for you. I meant to include them in the last post, but my wee pea brain forgot.
This advertisement is a cracker.
It is heartening, don’t you think, that the Hamilton Beach Vibrator is particularly helpful for “rubbing out the throbbing pain” and bringing “a tingling, cheerful glow that invigorates and refreshes”. But quite honestly, I don’t think I’d want that contraption anywhere near my delicate body parts…
Whilst we’re on the subject of sex toys that moonlight as household appliances, I recently came across (no pun intended, get your mind out of the gutter. Geez.) this little beauty:
The inventor was cleaning her carpets when she noticed that a piece of rubber caught in the tube was gently resonating with the air flow. Next thing you know, she had come up with a prototype to jam on the end of her vacuum cleaner, that gave her an orgasm in ten seconds.
Ten seconds without even touching skin! It just works on air flow alone.
Well, that’s all well and good, but I’d think that would rather take the fun out of it. I mean, isn’t a large part of the joy in the journey?
Oh, but it can also apparently, give multiple, back-to-back orgasms lasting up to a minute at a time… BUT WHAT ABOUT THE NOISE??
Seriously. I can barely stand being in the same room as a vacuum cleaner even when I’m not feeling like sexy time.
I think I’ll pass.
Here’s the commercial:
Why they got a man to give it the thumbs up, I’m still not sure. . .
Ok. I had other stuff to say, but I think that’s enough for today. And probably all I have to say on the subject of vibrators for a while. Maybe.
(Psst Tommy… Your wrapping instructions didn’t work…)
I was inspired by watching the Saturday morning part of last weekend’s Rage today, which I’d recorded on DVD…
Aussie’s will get that.
I saw some old favourites and enjoyed them so much, I started making a list. . .
There are songs and accompanying music video’s I have loved over the years and I feel a compulsion to share them with you.
The only criteria is that I have to like both the song and the video.
A lot.
It matters not what era, or genre it comes from.
It just has to be of quality. Funny or not.
Here is the first.
The band is Supergrass and the song is “Pumping On Your Stereo”. I’ve just watched it on YouTube, after viewing it on my rather large televsion, and despite how it looks on the small screen, believe me when I say there is almost nothing in the way of CGI going on here, if anything at all.
It’s just very clever puppeteering and crafty camerawork.
It really doesn’t look nearly as good on blotchy old YouTube as it does on my plasma, but it still makes me smile.
I hope you like it.
More to come. . .
Song Of The Day – Supergrass – Pumping On Your Stereo
I have so many of these glorious album covers, I’m spoilt for choice. I also have no idea where each and every one of these was pinched from, but I figure it’s not from their original source, so it doesn’t really matter…
Let’s just get started, eh?
What episode of Vinyl Beauties would be complete without some gratuitous nudity? Although I have to say, that the title paired with the image does my head in a bit. I’m not sure I even want to go there…
What I do like is some of the song titles – which do make me suspect that this record was not made in all seriousness….
“Sadie’s Still Got The Rag On”, “He Forgot His Rubbers”, “Tony’s Got Hot Nuts”… and then there’s always “Things Are Soft For Grandma Since Grandpa’s Eighty-Four”
I think that young lady was a bit warm under the lights. What do you think?
Stunning.
Someone’s mother is handy with a crochet hook…
Strangely enough, the outfit on the guy in purple would look quite fashionable right now…. on a woman. I’m somewhat impressed with the crocheted cowboy hat, although that guy is looking like he wouldn’t be out of place on a website for foot fetishists.
Do you think they could have put the palm in a more attractive container? Or at least placed it so the ugly plastic pot wasn’t in shot. Maybe they were in a hurry because the funeral home was about to close…
Hmm. Where to start with this one? Who is Bob McFadden and who is “Dor”? Is it his sister? Are they in the photo? Who are those people?
Is their “Mummy” a fertile, petrified, musical superhero?
We can only speculate…
Heh, well I have no problem with the proclamation that Jesus is a “Soul Man”, but I reckon this lot are in need of some divine guidance to make them appear even vaguely soulful…
Note to Naomi: A-line skirts and horizontal stripes around the hip of a full figured woman are not flattering…
Are we seriously supposed to believe these men are brothers?
Looks like poor Effie is has hit the skids. Either that, or she’s/he’s impersonating me at around the 3rd bottle of champagne mark. A bottle and head in hand is never a good combination…
Hmm. Should I be worried?
So, how is it, Effie? Tell it like it is….
I’d say her feet are hurting. Check out the size of her shoes…
So there you have it for another edition of “Vinyl Beauties”.
I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Feel free to throw in your own interpretations….
I’ve no excuse for slacking off with my postings of Yacht Rock, but I’m quite sure than no one but Jules will have noticed. Mind you, I do get a lot of search engine traffic for it, so it’s on with the show….
Let’s see. Where are we up to?
Ah, yes. Episode 5 – “I Believe In It”.
I’m quite fond of this one…
In this episode, these questions and more, may or may not be answered:
Who really put the smooth in Michael Jackson? It appears a spear gun plays some part…
How could Michael Jackson possibly be a catalyst for Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald to kiss and make up?
Who knew that Vincent Price had supernatural powers? And here I was, thinking he was just an actor…
Go! Go! Toto go!
Bye bye Koko! [waves]
And as a special bonus, here is Episode 6 – “The Seed Drill”.
I’m not only posting this to make up time, but also because it’s an odd episode and I’m not sure it would stand too well on its own…
It’s a history lesson with a difference.
And the lesson is Jethro Tull. The real Jethro Tull. Watch and you’ll see…
Hint: You will appreciate it a whole lot more if you’ve watched Episode One.
Is it wrong that I can name every Jethro Tull song included on the soundtrack? I feel like such a tragic…
And here is Part Deux. Not before time, I know. I’ve gathered such a huge collection of dodgy album covers online, that it may take me a year to post them all….
Yay!
I chose these ones at random. I closed my eyes and clicked.
First off the block we have:
Is her neck broken? Or perhaps her back?
I’ve been doing aerobics on and off for 20 years and I can quite safely say that this particular move has never been part of any routine I’ve followed. In fact, I used to throw my head around like that when I was dancing in my misspent youth, and all the favours it did me, was ongoing neck and back problems. I wonder how she’s doing these days..?
Is my interpretation of digital timing wrong, or is that a 20 second workout? Ah, 20 minutes. Oh, well… if I’d end up with a body like hers, I might just try it…
It was seen on TV, after all…
Astronauts in gaily coloured suits and multicoloured women from outer space (those curly antennae never work well, in my experence). Apparently they’re thrilling the ladies with gifts. What those gifts are, are anyone’s guess. I think they’re cocktails…? In brandy balloons. Hey, brandy is brown, man! I hate being misrepresented, don’t you?
I’m always up for an escapade, though. Especially in space.
I bags being the pink lady…
Nice to be with you too, Jim. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to point?
Smug bastard.
Their name is Omega, in case you didn’t get it from the prominently placed symbol. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, because it wasn’t the first thing I noticed…
I think they guy with the blond frizz and I have the same hairdresser….
Is the guy on the right wearing a frock? It’s all very odd. They must be Scandinavian.
Just because I’ve been so active in my garden this week, I had to choose this one (the only one I actually chose). I always play music whist I’m pottering amongst the living things, but I hadn’t considered playing them Dr George’s music when I’m not around. Maybe that’s why my snow peas died overnight?
Does the fact he is a doctor, have any bearing on his horticultural skills? Maybe he’s a Doctor of Wilting Indoor Plants…
Arright. That’s it for another episode, my lovelies.
Pop the champagne and fire up the popcorn maker…. it’s Eurovision!
A high-camp feast of musical mayhem and predictable political prejudices and persuasions. A boon for the bookmakers. An excuse for the European pop music community to drink copious amounts of alcohol and rub uglies. An opportunity for European dancers to grin maniacally and display their interpretive dancing skills. A chance for European set designers to let their penchant for garish colours and flashing lights run free. A night for female performers to wear costumes so brief and wispy so as to get a chill in their kidneys.
Not familiar with the Eurovision Song Contest? Abba had their big break when they won it back in the 70’s with their ostentasiously costumed rendition of ‘Waterloo’.
It is the highlight of my television viewing year. Better even, than the AFL Grand Final. 3 1/2 hours of laugh-til-your-cheeks-hurt, cringe-worthy bliss. This show is FUNNY. F.U.N.N.Y. Thanks, in large part to the wonderful commentary of British tv/radio icon Terry Wogan. Sardonic, dry, and very, very witty with his lovely lilting Irish accent. He ought to be good. He’s been commentating Eurovision for nearly 40 years…
Every year, Eurovision unintentionally takes on a different theme. Most years at least 90% of the songs feature something in common. Last year just about every person on stage was wearing white. This year, was the year of gothic overtones and pyrotechnics, thanks to the stylings of last year’s winners, Lordi from Finland.
This is the video of Lordi’s winning performace from last year. So much fun. Watch. You won’t regret it. Hard Rock Hallelujah! [how they don't all go up in flames towards the end, is still quite beyond me...]
Eurovision is watched by over 600 million people worldwide and has a cult following in Australia. We don’t take part in it, for obvious reasons, so we have no vested interest, but the people of Europe take it all terribly seriously, which is funny in itself. We just sit and laugh our boxes off at the supreme kitschness of it all and Sir Wogan’s witticisms.
There are heats and semi-finals in every country that takes part; it goes on and on for months, but the Grand Prix de Europe (er, Grand Final), is open to only 24 countries. The format of the show runs in two parts. First, all 24 countries perform their respective and universally puke-worthy songs. Second half of the programme is the vote. We’ll get to that part.
First, I’ll share some stills of a few choice acts chosen to represent their respective countries:
BULGARIA
It’s the Bulgarian Sheila E and the Mulletman. Ok, his name isn’t really Mulletman, but he does have rather spectacular hair. It’s all about percussion…
UNITED KINGDOM
Honestly. CAN they be serious? Just look at them. This lot make Bucks Fizz look like The Beatles. The UK are given a free pass to the Eurovision final every year, along with Germany, France and Spain. Their entries are almost universally TERRIBLE. The thing that concerns me most, is that the songs selected to represent each country are chosen by the general public… I thought Morrissey was supposed to get a gander this year? What happened?!
GERMANY
Last year, Germany did a Country & Western song, complete with cowboy outfits. This year the flavour was Big Band Swing. In German. How very…. Brecht. Not.
BELARUS
A chintzy pseudo rock song of the highest order, sung by a young man bearing an uncanny resemblance to Princess Diana. Complete with chorus:
Work your magic
You set my beating heart in motion
Will you cast your loving potion
Over me
I rest my case.
GEORGIA
Georgia’s first ever Eurovision Grand Final appearance. It wasn’t half bad, either, if not a bit strange to look at. A couple of energetic, spinning Cossacks waving swords about and a pretty woman in a red dress, singing a kind of electro-goth anthem. I guess you had to be there….
MOLDOVA
This is probably best illustrated by Terry Wogan’s introduction:
“There’s a lot of impetuous head-shaking and scarf-waving, and it’s the outfit of the evening, lads, from Natalia. Altogether now, when she’s finished playing the fiddle, I want you to shout….”PULL UP YOUR TROUSERS!!”"
Then, when the song was over:
“We can only hope her mother wasn’t watching that.. [chuckles]. That was quite frightening…”
FORMER YUGOSLAV REPUBLIC OF MACEDONIA
Aren’t you glad you don’t live there? It would take you ten years just to say where you lived. I include this young lady, because she had the longest legs and shortest skirt of the evening, by a long shot. There was even a fairly decent shot of her arse at one point, which thrilled my husband no end. Gotta love those Eurobabes.
HUNGARY
Hungary sings the blues. Maybe they are hung(a)ry? Ok, that was possibly the lamest joke ever uttered, even in the name of Eurovision., but that’s what it does to you. I swear.
Did I mention how wonderful this all looked on the 42″ inch Plasma? Fan-bloody-tastic.
The second half of the show is made up of the voting process, where they cross to 42 separate countries by satellite link to have a short chat and get the results of the telephone votes from the public, via some local tv celebrity. You’d think it would be quite torturous, but it’s actually very amusing. Partly because so many of the votes are so utterly predictable with neighbouring countries and political allies voting for each other, often with complete disregard to the quality of the act they’re voting for. Croatia gives top votes to Bosnia & Herzogovina and vice versa, Iceland votes for Finland, Moldova votes for Romania, Belarus for Russia, Cyprus for Greece… you get the picture. There was an even more apparent voting block going on this year between the Eastern European countries, not helped that there were two new additions to the fray.
Despite the bias and the accompanying tutting and pffting, it all seems to work out in the end.
What really tickles me is that the poor old UK, France and Germany really don’t have any friends to give them the big points, so they just pick up the odd stray vote along the way. Everybody say “awwwwwww”, heh.
SERBIA
This year, Serbia came out on top, by a fairly decent margin with a heart wrenching power ballad to rival all power ballads, sung by a bunch of women in drag, looking like refugees from the island of Lesbos who all seem to have had a nasty accident with the same curling iron:
UKRAINE
… but this is who should have won! If you only watch one of these videos, make it Verka! Hilarious! I’m in love. I want to have his babies. It’s taken me so long to put this blog up because I’ve spent most of the week so far watching Verka videos on YouTube. Best Eurovision song, EVER. It even gives Lordi a run for their money…. WATCH IT. I dare you! [titter]
Only in Europe, could millions of people vote a bunch of women in drag, and a cross dressing man into first and second place in such a political minefield of a song contest. I love it.
So, that pretty much wraps up Eurovision for another year. There were more videos I wanted to include, and if you want to see more, there are loads of great, chuckle-worthy performances on YouTube.
Serbia – 268
Ireland – 5
Oh, stuff it. Here’s one more. This is Switzerland’s entry which didn’t make it past the Semi Final, even though it was tipped as a hot favourite. It cracks me up. The artist is DJ Bobo (which is funny in itself), and the song is…. well, quite surreal. ‘Vampires Are Alive”. Just see it for yourself. Personally I’m quite fond of the shop mannequins in the background.
If you still can’t get enough, check out this blog here. It’s a cracker and it was written by an American who has never felt the sheer elation that a Eurovision final can bring, yet still manages to intrinsically appreciate the supreme cheesiness of it all.
Song Of The Day – Verka Serduchka – Dancing Lasha Tumbai
I’ve never been a comic book freak, but I’ve always loved me some Spidey. I think it had a lot to with the theme song being so deeply imprinted, watching Saturday morning television as a kid.
I won’t harp on about it at length, as the hype is bordering on overkill as it is. Also it’s quite boring to read about a film you haven’t seen.
Here is a list of a few things that occurred to me during the movie (no spoilers to speak of):
Yeah, I’m critical. I’m an ex-film critic. So shoot me.
Kirsten Dunst has a most unfortunate voice. She does sing in the film (she’s actually meant to not be all that good), but I’m talking about her speaking voice. It annoys the bejesus out of me. She sounds like she’s being strangled. Every time she opens her mouth, I feel an uncontrollable urge to clear my throat. Use your diaphragm, woman!
The opening credits are really naff and almost as long as the film. That’s very, very long.
There is a lot of crying in this movie. I mean, it’s really noticeable. I didn’t feel terribly affected by the drama, so by the end of the film I was starting to giggle every time someone started snuffling.
It drove me nuts when every time Peter Parker pulled his sexy cozzie out of the trunk, he would hold it out in front on himself and gaze at it in earnest for what seemed like aeons. This must have happened about six times, at least. People to save, Peter! Get a move on, lad! It was actually quite comical (ahem)…
People who criticise the amount of CGI in Spiderman 3, need to stop and remember that it is a comic book! Next stop: animation! It was almost blurring the line between cartoon and reality, but it really worked – unlike in Superman Returns.
It was nice to see a cameo from Stan Lee.
One of the things I like most about the Spiderman franchise is its sense of humour. There are some cack laugh-out-loud moments in this movie. Shame that the rest of the (very young) audience missed it.
The action scenes are hot. See it on the big screen
Is it just me, or does anyone else find Spiderman in his cozzie really bloody sexy? Makes me all a bit fluttery in naughty places , I tell ya….
Come and get me, Spidey baby….(just leave your costume on)
All in all, a jolly enjoyable romp, as you would expect. I give Spidey 3, ***1/2 stars.
Oh! I nearly forgot to tell you. Just as well it’s not a film you where need to concentrate terribly hard to follow along, because there was a group of unsupervised children in the session and they were taking turns running up and down the stairs in the theatre.[thud, thud, thud-thud, thud, thud-thud-thud, thud] You get the picture. They also didn’t shut up for the entirety of the film – vocally or with their constant rustling. Fortnuately I was in the fourth row and they were at the back, so I managed to mostly tune them out…..
….Unlike the guy 4 rows behind me who had not one, but two loud conversations on his mobile phone in the middle of the movie. How rude! The second time he did it was the last time, because I turned around and yelled at him:
“GET OFF THE PHONE!!!”
He got off the phone. :)
In other news:
I coloured my hair today. Woohoo!
Damn. It didn’t really come out all that well in the photo. It’s quite….. red.
It’s the 
