26 May, 2004

All Over The Place

If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times, it's time to leave the party when somebody does a beer bong, vomits on the floor, and says, 'Hey, let's get out Dave's compound bow!'

I quote the cutely quotable Kev, from TJ's Place (not its real name).


The tiny girl in tights and iridescent seafoam spandex, who is she? Trapeze? High Wire? And the little boy on stilts, waving to every one he passes, is he Ringmaster? Clown? The woman in black- fringed sarong, eyeliner, earrings- clearly, she belongs in the Gypsy Fortuneteller tent.
And the glorious golden canine that leaps, twisting, cavorting on the end of his... Oh.

It's not a circus parade.

It's just the Pomeroy family, out walking the dog.


Being that it's Wednesday, I give you the usual week's worth of links, as I'm too lazy to do them most other days.

Your CityPaper links, first and foremost, or at least the important stuff.

A horoscope, by a man I've never met. (Well, wankers, get on the ball! I know I've got astrology buddies that could DO this job. Won't ONE of you step up to the plate?)

An editorial, by my favorite intellectual Animal. No, never mind, his column's been pre-empted this week so go instead to Emily Flake's cartoon, partly because of the punning possibilities of her name. (Hold me back.)

And a cartoon, by someone who is often a genius. And admits it.

Be sure to check out his book signing at this very cool location. ( An aside: most of his stuff is way, way over my admittedly fluffy head. The problem with hanging around with genuii- a plural for genius, which I may have just invented- is that I always feel I should have someone check me for blonde roots. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it", indeed. "Immigrant in her own country," my ass. Neither quote, by the way, from Tim. He's much too polite to say such things, and if he did, much more clever.)

Something from possibly the world's most famous living prostitute

lundi 24 mai
Before I forget to mention, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a terribly good film. So good, in fact, you will leave the cinema in a half-daze, wander aimlessly by the river for a few hours, smiling benevolently on the drunks amassing at the water's edge in complete ignorance of the spring tides and wonder, at turns, whether you would erase someone or not, whether your life would be any better or, in fact, somewhat depleted by such an occurrence. You will continue this train of thought for some time, imagining the things you would or would not want to save and - scarifying as they may be - the way things ended. What this means about you as a person. What this means about us as a species.

Not good first date fodder, in retrospect.
// posted by belle @ 3:10 PM

She leaves "uni" and begins a career of whoring. Earns loads of lovely lucre, blogs herself into a book deal, gets complacent, goes on holiday, is dropped from her stable, posts once or twice a week, and it's pap like this. ????

Things that make you go "whatthefuck?"

I was warned to not attempt this link without FLASH, whatever that is. ("Do you have Flash?" he asks. "Is that the thing that the little box pops up asking me if I want to download the latest version of?" "Yes, that's it." "Right, so I'm thinking I must have it, because otherwise it would be like the Hatter asking Alice if she'd like more tea, and she argues that she can't have more because she hasn't had any." "Riiiiiiight.") But it's so cool, I played around with it for fifteen minutes. That's a long time for me to engage in anything not involving words, orgasm or tanning oil. Wait, I think I've just described my perfect date....

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