I’ve been trotting this joke out regularly every time pun wars happen. But now that I’ve discovered a meme maker that’s simple enough for me to actually use without realising I’m a broken down old has-been whom everything has passed by, I turned it into a thing. There you go.
I’m at home alone: Luscious is out with the girls, Lord 16 and Lady Girlfriend are out at the movies. Really, it’s their fault.
Got some glamour photography done this morning. I think it went well.
BRUTUS: I just ate this whole meal, but I’m still hungry. What shall I do?
JULIUS: Eat two, Brutus.
Fuck you, I’m hilarious.
Today I walked past a little girl in the shops just as she yelled “I don’t work for mean bossyheads!” at nobody in particular, and I never knew my spirit animal would turn out to be a four year old in a sparkly tutu, but here we are.
Luscious is having a crack at moving towards veganism, and she’s doing very well at it. I’m proud of course, but I also want to help……
Suddenly, so much is explained……
Karratha has a beautiful theatre complex, which contains exactly one cinema screen in the auditorium that doubles as both cinema and traditional theatre. As a consequence, screenings are very limited: more often than not, a movie will have one-two screenings at best. Miss an anticipated flick, and you’re stuck with waiting until it arrives on DVD at the one store we have for that purpose.
Needless to say, Lord 14 is extremely happy to have secured tickets to the one screening of It 2 for him and his girlfriend.
Which is my little way of saying you can blame his constant chatter for this mixed-up movie quote.
So, yeah, we watched Taxi Driver. This is where my head went. Another mixed movie quote. I make no apologies.
It’s not unusual: you watch one movie, and realise just how perfectly a line from that movie would fit into another movie. So, you know, you download an image, and open it with Paint, and, you know…… right?
Anyway, I was washing the dishes, and my mind was wandering, and that’s how the first one happened. And then I was watching The Untouchables, and I was getting bored (it really hasn’t aged well), and my mind was wandering……. and anyway, it amuses me, and there’s bound to be more, I’ll post ’em as they happen, ‘k?
So, tonight, in the ongoing How Has Luscious Made it to Her Mid-40s and Missed All These Classic Movies? film festival, I introduced her to the classic SF film Soylent Green.
Which got me thinking of another great movie I’ve seen recently.
Which got me fiddling about with Photopad.
Which lead to this 🙂
The Horror Writers Association is dedicated to the promotion of horror writing and horror authors. It’s a damn fine organisation filled with the loveliest people and not at all creeping with the kind of denatured freaks that make you lock your windows at night and fit a chastity belt to your budgie.
Their latest fun escapade is the Horror Selfies campaign, a viral campaign whereby horror industry creative types take a selfie with a message encouraging you to put down the latest pile of Colleen McCullough slop you’re bravely believing fulfills you and pick up something with a little meat on its bones…. raw, dripping, tasty meat.
You can see a fabulously funny gallery over at the Horror Selfies site, but just in case you can’t summon the strength to click anywhere up to twice in a row, here’s my little effort for your edification:
Now, to an award in which you can play a part in the outcome, faithful reader.
The Battersblog has been nominated for the Best Australian Blogs 2013 competition, a little piece of fun co-ordinated by the Australian Writers Centre. Something like 1100 blogs have been entered, so it’s not that exclusive, but the winner does win the power to reform Mott the Hoople, a year’s supply of red M&Ms with the logo licked off so you can pretend they’re Smarties, and an all expenses paid trip to Canberra where 4 Big Brother rejects will hold Tony Abbot down on a footpath while you kick in his smirky little bonobo face with a pair of hob nail boots, so it’s a pretty sweet set of booty.
The People’s Choice Award is now open, and carries on until 5pm on Tuesday 30 April 2013. Voters do not need to be Australian, so if you’d like to see me blissed out on red candy, physically assaulting a loathsome patch of human slurry to some of the best glam rock power chords recorded between the years 1968 and 72-ish, just click on the icon below, scroll through page after page of blogs you don’t like quite so much as this one until you get to the ‘T’ page, and cast your vote for your humble correspondent’s rambling efforts.
Your country thanks you.
I realise it’s been a while: I’ve largely been off the internet doing really-lifey sorta things. There’s some real content coming in the next couple of days, but in the meantime, read down to line four of this and be glad you were born with two hemispheres to your brain…..
As if anybody ever needed proof that Rory is rapidly becoming the Best Companion Ever ™:
Smurched from Cheeseburger.com. Authorised by the first precepts of Universal Truth.
Smurched from Roger Ebert’s Blog, via a head-up from Cat Sparks. I’m just all warm and fuzzy inside knowing I work in a genre that contains the inventor of the DIY steampunk gimp mask….
Do be do be do ba do be, do ba do be
Carrot with a face
Ohhhhhhhhhh yeah, babeeeeeee.
According to Darkcounter, the last two Google searches that sent people to this blog were “pictures of handsome Jehovah’s Witnesses” and my old friend “Billie Piper’s Nipples”.
I’m going to be trying to fit them into the same image for days….. :))
Off work since Wednesday with a massive lurgi, and I’ve finally read every comic in the house and watched every episode of QI a-GAIN, so now it’s your turn.
Tell me: who is the worst writer of all time?
I’ll open with Guy N. Smith, inflicter-upon of such delights as Night of the Crabs, The Sucking Pit (not as sexy as it might sound….) and Satan’s Snowdrop.
Anyone wanna raise?
Is this the single greatest musical performance in the history of human endeavour? Only history will decide.
I, on the other hand, may need bowel surgery now.
Lunch. Sizzler. Lyn and Aiden across from each other at the table, baby Luc in Lyn’s lap, laughing and giggling as Nanna does the Nanna thing. Everything’s cute and lovely and full of awwwwwwww.
AIDEN: You know what I love most about babies?
AIDEN: They can’t pronounce the safe word.
I couldn’t see straight for about ten minutes.