Hello. And we’re back to our unregularly unscheduled program – “Blogging One Year On – Part 3 of 7″ or “where our hero’s heart get’s broken”


Well you can’t have a story without some romantic angle, cause apparently according to 83% of statistics about statistics, 64% of women like that stuff.

Kill me if you will, but the truth shall make you fret!

So romance… *chirrups of crickets echo in the background*

Right… give me a second….

Aha!

This being a postmodern tale, the happiness and well being of the character is not to be expected nor wanted by the audience. And a happy, untroubled love life? Fuggedaboutit. Which really only goes to say that post-modern audiences like to be dicks to their literary characters. But one must go with the times.

So in the middle of the training montage as Eye of the Tiger blares in the background. There she walks in, already bad news you can tell, as a slew of ninja lemmings throw themselves off a handy cliff in their efforts to gain her attention. But being ninja’s they merely, bounced off the pointy rocks below the cliff face and clambered up it, to once again gaze longingly at her as she sashayed past them. So to those who would sic the animal rights people on me, back! Back! Back, I say!

Glimmering blue eyes, something about having a pretty face, insert your own description of a killer bod, throw in some wit and a sense of humour, mix generously with some sexy, sexy brains, and thus you have the recipe for a vixen which I have little to no defense against. What straight male human being could withstand such weapons of mass attraction?

And thus I was bombed clear out of my skull, the blast throwing me into the morbidly obese arms of Cupid.

But alas, the beautiful lass was a spy for the samurai mole rats, and was only seducing me, with her mixture of intelligence, charm, wit, beauty and some sort of pheromone based perfume, to lead me and my comrade in arms in to a trap, wherein flaming meatballs would shower us with death.

The hussy.

Now let us exit the world of truth, stylised violence and in appropriately short attire for women (yes that is a very, very obscure reference to Suckerpunch), and enter the world of insanity, self-discovery and reality.

Things I learnt from blogging – Part 4.

I’m odd. Weird. Strange. Quirky. Eccentric. Actually, scratch eccentric, I’m no where rich enough to be eccentric. Now I know some of you, in your misguided way, are thinking that weird can be kinda cool. But as me and Girl 1 discovered after some debate on the matter, there are various kinds of weirdness. What you’re thinking about is the first type, the alpha, or “cool-weird”. The person who probably best defines this, is this man:

cool-weird /ko͞ol-wee-rd/
Adjective: strange, but hypnotically and alluringly so.

That’s cool-weird.

Then there’s my type. The betas. Or “awkward-weird”. Now there are of course as with everything various levels of being awkward-weird. At one end of the spectrum you have the mouth-breathers at one end, the end farthest from humanity. You know the type, loud heavy breathing and an unblinking stare , and uncomfortable (for you) movements of the hand in his trouser pocket, as he stares at a point directly 2 inches above or below your navel, depending on his mood.

Ahhh Milton. How much do I adore thee?

And at the other end, those who have accepted their strangeness, but just don’t have the panache (or desire) to be lovingly accepted for their oddity, but they are cool in their own non-socially acceptable way. The Steve Buscemi’s of the world in fact.

awk·ward-weird/ˈôkwərd-wee-rd/
Adjective: see picture above.

I fall somewhere in the middle. Quirky enough that if I act exactly how I wanted all the time, I’d probably be in a nut house, but not fully embracing my weirdness so I don’t act exactly how I want to all the time. I walk the tight rope of normal appearances and my true oddball behaviour. Releasing soft puffs of strangeness when I feel safe enough that the people around me won’t burn me at the stake for those comments and/or actions. Kinda like when you let our those silent farts in meetings that you aren’t able to just get out of (you’ve done them I know you have! haven’t you? aahh crap… am I the only one??).

********

Final Note: Is it a coincidence that all these weird people are wearing glasses? Wait…. Steve Buscemi isn’t wearing glasses… he just looks like he is. Ignore this comment.

Hello “The Dark Knight Rises” a review – “Blogging One Year On – Intermission Part 2 – the pee break or “The Joker always wins”


I will attempt to keep the hyperbole and spoilers to a minimum.

It was pretty awesome though.

**A minor spoiler alert coming**

The money shot of Anne Hathaway’s leather clad tush bent over as she rides that motorbike is the new Catherine Zeta-Jones Entrapment moment for this generation. If you don’t know what I’m talking about regarding Entrapment then forget about it you young whipper snapper and/or cultural philistine. Just enjoy your generations version of it.

I will say that The Dark Knight is still my favourite. I don’t think anyone could compare to Heath Ledgers The Joker as the a comic-book villain turned comic-book-movie villain. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something about the demented, chaotic nature that was portrayed on the screen by Mr Ledger that rings with me. Or hell I could just have a huge man-crush on Heath. Who knows?

But The Dark Knight Rises doesn’t lag like The Dark Knight did. I’m a comic book nerd from way back, and Batman has always been one of my favourite characters. But even I remember when watching The Dark Knight thinking at certain points “when is this movie going to end?”. I never got that with The Dark Knight Rises, again maybe it was the company. Sandwiched between two extremely attractive women in the dark has a way of making time go relatively faster. Or it could just have been a more tightly knitted movie. Or maybe it was Anne Hathaway in a tight leather body suit.

Hmmmmmm… Anne Hathaway in a tight leather body suit.

*droooooooooooool*

The thing about the rebooted world of Batman that Christopher Nolan (the director) has created is that it’s populated by normal people. There are no X-Men, Supermen, Spidermen  or Norse Gods. Batman, The Joker, Rhas Al-Ghul (baddie from the first movie) Bane, they were all normal people, pushed to do extraordinary things. In the case of the villains, extraordinarily bad things, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was extraordinary.

The problem with Rhas Al-Ghul was that he was too remote, too cold, too cerebral. Batman without the burning anger and sense of justice.

The problem with Bane is that he’s exactly like Batman, physical, angry, powerful, with sense of justice (warped as it is).

That’s why the Joker trumps both of them. He’s the opposite side of the same coin as Batman. As different from him as he was exactly the same. The yin to his yang. The chaos to his order. The extrovert to his introvert. The nut-job crazy to his guano crazy. It was fascinating to watch.

So cheers to you Mr Ledger, you’ve set a bar for the comic-book-movie-villain that may not be matched for a very long time.

Clap. Clap. Clap. (that’s the sound he made in the movie, not sarcasm)

 

Hello “The Dark Knight Rises” or “Blogging One Year On – Intermission”


…………………….Let’s all go to the lobby!

…………………………………………………………..Let’s all go to the lobby!

…………………………….Let’s all go to the lobby!

…………………………………………………………………………Let’s all go to the lobby!

And buy over priced confectionery for consumption during the film, because the subliminal messages during the previews told us to.

La la laaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Just a little break from the fast-paced, heart-thumping, jaw-dropping, mouth-watering, muscle-flexing, and a-lot-of-other-hyphenated-adjective-phrases-ending-with-“-ing”, tale of ninja lemmings, samurai mole rats and homosexual robots. Oh and the unicorns. We must never forget about the unicorns.

I’m sitting in a bar as I finish this off on my iPad. Yes I realise that makes me look a bit like a douche, but screw it. Being in my 30’s I’m old enough not to give a rats arse about what anyone thinks of me as I make my way, grumbling at you young’uns and heckling the older folks, towards the blessed land of Grumpy Old Men.

I’m here because Girl B (whose tale is laid out here) is back in my neck of the country, and has arranged for her and myself AND Girl A (whose tale is also told in the above link) to have a drink.

That’s right.

The 2 girls who I have been interested in the past 18 months have taken it upon themselves to arrange drinks for the three us.

Together.

In the same bar.

Together.

At the same time.

Did I mention we were all going to be together?

Now this is an accident waiting to happen.

Welcome to my life folks. 🙂

It was actually going to be a surprise for me. Girl B had contacted me and arranged for the two of us to get together, but I scored free tickets to the state premier of The Dark Knight Rises. Yup folks you read that right. I shall be watching the new Batman movie a full day before it goes out on release in Australia, and a full two days before the rest of the world. MUAHAAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!

Awesome is somehow not enough to describe this….

Anyways, enough of me bragging and rubbing the amazingness of this moment in your faces. Let’s get back to the imminent disaster waiting to happen, cause that’s a lot more entertaining for you folks. Sadistic bastards the lot of you. 🙂 Much love.

So the get together between the three of us was going to be a surprise, but I called Girl B to see if she could also make it to the movie. That’s when she let the cat out of the bag that Girl A was also supposed to join us. This had me scrambling for yet another free ticket. Which of course I found cause I am awesome. So now the three of us will be going for drinks, then attending a premiere of maybe one of the most awesome movie trilogy’s ever made.

And to answer your question, no I don’t think anything is going to happen with either of them, and I don’t want anything to happen either. My guess, this whole meeting up they’ve arranged is just to cement the whole issue that both of them would like to remain friends with me and nothing else. And that’s plenty fine with me. With this whole year of blogging series that I’m making up as I go along writing about, I’ve come to the conclusion that this is all for the best.

And to answer your second question yes I shall be doing a review of the movie, and I will make the utmost attempt to not include spoilers but just as a warning if you do not want to be pre-mind-blown skip over tomorrows post.

So here comes the first of them, so (and this is so highly appropriate right now)…

I’ll catch you again folks, same bat-time, same bat-channel.

Hello, these aren’t the droids you’re looking for – “Blogging One Year On – Part 2 of 7”


Wait, I hear you say, pondering, as we sit side by side on the couch, cups of coffee in hand. You made mine a little too sweet, and its making my teeth ache, but what the hell. A caffeine AND a sugar rush.

“Wasn’t this story about ninja lemmings and samurai mole rats? How did droids get into this? They’re in a completely different time line and genre…”

I scoff at your attempts at making my tale consistent.

PFFT! <– *me scoffing at you*

And as with any story so ridiculously implausible that it HAS to be the truth, there’s an answer to your question.

Time travelling droids. Well not on purpose, but they got caught in a wormhole after they used an escape pod after their ship was boarded by these dudes in completely impractical white uniforms. Seriously, white? On soldier dudes? As if there wouldn’t be a penis drawn on the back of someones helmet the minute they were issued…

If a male robot likes to love another male robot who am I to judge? The short one is a smart arse though…

Anyway, those droids joined me on the unicorn, but they weren’t the droids we were looking for so we tossed them off the side just as the guitar solo came on.They ended up on some desert world and did some stuff. I think there was a movie. Which goes to show you that this must be the truth since, the droids contributed nothing to the story, and one of the lessons we learn growing up, is that just because you want someone to play a particular part in your story doesn’t mean that they will.

And now for the version of events that happened for those of you still stuck in the Matrix.

Things I learnt after a year of blogging – Relationships.

Reading through my disastrous attempts at relationshipping the past year, I have come to one conclusion which I’ve probably have come to before, and if so then please change that previous line to “I have reinforced a previous conclusion”. And that is I suck at relationships. Friendships are fine, hell I’m awesome at those. Don’t ask me why I suck at romantic relationships, I haven’t delved that deeply into that broken and shattered aspect of my personality, sparkling like an insane disco ball in the nether regions of my soul. I just suck.

But I’m fine with that.

Because another thing I’ve discovered from reading a years worth of angst ridden yearnings (well okay there’s not THAT many) is that I’m a helluva lot happier when I’m happy being single than when I’m happy being a couple. It’s like being in a relationship (and being happy within that relationship) is like having pizza. BUT! being single AND being happy about being single is like having pizza, beer, a lazy Sunday afternoon and the entire series of Firefly on a big TV screen.

Shiny.

Hello, this is the tragic part of my tale when my ninja lemming trainer is killed or “Blogging – One Year On. Part 4 of 7”


I see you pondering there.

You read that right. This is part 4. Which has come right after part 1. I’m doing this to show to you that time is a construct (I only have the vaguest notion of what this means because my tutor at University who used it constantly was incredibly attractive) and this blog is avant garde like that.

So, no I am not hiding posts from you. Okay, another lie, I am. But with a relative definition for the term “you”. This entire series has been hidden from one specific person, and instead for reading about ninja lemmings they are being treated to the etymological history of the word “booby” and “tit” as it evolved from bird names to synonyms for a much loved part of the female anatomy. And why it is that when Sir David Attenborough says such words it makes me chuckle.

But you don’t want to hear about that…

So for the story,

…. Shashimi my ninja lemming trainer, throws himself in the path of runaway meatball covered in flaming tobasco sauce in order to save me. I cried. I cried like a baby. An angry, angry baby. I then used the skills imparted by my late great trainer, and using the Spaghetti-Noodles-of-Mayhem-&-Chaos and the colour mauve as my weapons, I assaulted the meatball catapult and killed the samurai mole-rats mole-ratting it (since they weren’t “manning” it obviously) to the last one.

Deadlier than you could possibly fathom. Unless you can fathom stuff like “Does wobble of the spinning top at the end of Inception mean that that it’s going to fall and therefore everything in a movie filled with actors and special effects can be thought of as “real” rather than a “dream”?” If you can do that, death dealing meatballs should be no problem.

Stay tuned, for the next installment! Whichever part of the story I feel like telling you after this bit anyway!

Now for those who are dismissive of this story as the schizophrenic ramblings of a poor deranged soul, I offer you this self-indulgent and self-involved realisation.

One of the things I learnt from a year of blogging is that my moods are mercurial to say the least. Looking back on posts written in almost euphoric highs and then comparing those posts to the ones written which are downright Hamlet-ly melancholic. A doctor I was dating once supposed that I could possibly be hypomanic/cyclothymic (essentially a much more tame version of bi-polar disorder), but I got too weird and she left before she could finish her diagnosis.

She was probably onto something, but the highs are just so much fun that I kinda think I don’t want to be fixed. But of course the lows taste like the fetid remains of a 7 day old skunk, after being left out in the summer sun. So maybe I should look into it…

Hello, there are no ninja lemmings in this post or “Blogging – One Year on. Part 1 of 7”


I know, I know.

I declare I’m back and then don’t post a thing for two weeks.

I’d tell you the truth, that I was whisked away by ninja lemming’s to fight in their never-ending war against the evil samurai mole-rats, on the back of a flying unicorn while they serenaded me with various renditions of Kansas’ Carry On My Wayward Son, as they fed me pieces of french toast.

But,

you wouldn’t believe me anyways.

So, instead I’ll just use the following outrageous fabrication and sordid lies.

Deal?

Deal.

As I finished posting the last post. I realised I must be close to my blogging anniversary. And I was. Today, marks the 1st birthday of this blog.

And so I was stuck.

Such an auspicious occasion should be marked with a brilliant post. Something that bounces, bunny-like on the readers cerebral cortex, then does that other thing that bunnies are famous for doing, rhythmically, on your amygdala .

But I’m all out of brilliant, so you’ll all have to settle for narcissistic introspection.

In seven parts.

HA!

Sucks to be you.

Anyways.

Part 1: This started out as a personal finance blog (stop choking on your respective oral fixation objects. I know, it sucks as a personal finance blog, alright?) So after a year of blogging, what have I, Captain Sweatpants, learned about personal finance?

Well for one I am a budget nerd. I don’t particularly like numbers. I’m no math-elete. But when it comes to making spreadsheets, graphs, tables, whatever to help me tracking down my debt, wowsers. My “budget 2.0” spreadsheet currently has 11 different tabs/worksheets and 3 sets of graphs.

It’s fun goddamnit!

And anyone who say’s that they don’t have an awesome time putting into Excel all their expenditure and income and then trying to calculate a workable and realistic budget, then tracking debt repayments and progression, then putting all that data into a graphical format… well, I say those people are just too sane for my liking. 😛

You’re looking at the last pay-cycle, just before the 1st birthday of this blog.

This is one of the graphs I’ve set up that updates every time I input data from the master spreadsheet above.

Two pie graphs showing my progress from the point when I first started a version of this spreadsheet (about a year before I started blogging) to now.
Green = Good
Red = Bad

Number two (hehehehe “number two” *snort giggle guffaw snort*), I can actually trust myself with credit cards now. Oh I’ll never match up to Cheap Tight McSkint (the most frugal man in the world), I like technology too much, I often get lazy and buy dinner instead of making it, and hell, there are times when I just want to buy stuff. But I’ll never get myself into that position again where I was 2 years ago when I was literally drowning in debt. I currently have 3 credit cards in my wallet, 1 has never been used, 1 is my everyday card, and the other is my emergency card. And while some people might think, “if you don’t use that first card why even carry it?” Well it’s kinda like when a smoker carries that one last cigarette. It’s a challenge if you will. I know it’s there, and as long as I never use it. I’m in control. That probably doesn’t make sense to anyone else, but whatever floats right?

And thirdly, well I’m a money grubbing whore. *grin* Nah seriously, the third lesson I’ve learned is that money IS important, but ONLY if you don’t have enough of it. With my current lifestyle and my current salary, and the way I’ve set up my automatic payments, and the way I’ve tailored my budget,  money isn’t really much of a concern. Oh sure, Iwantto upgrade my lifestyle. A nicer apartment, get a car, travel a lot more, buy more suits, better furniture, you know the drill. But I don’tneed to. And there’s something comforting in knowing that.

Stay tuned for part 2, where there will be an inspirational training montage sequence, as the ninja lemming’s whip me into shape for the inevitable battle  with the lord of samurai mole-rats – or if you are unable the beautiful truth of that narrative, the lie I will be telling will be something about what I’ve learnt regarding blogging and crap. I dunno, my lie isn’t that well thought out yet.

Give me a few hours.

Hello quickie post


Happiness is a nice warm bed after pulling an all nighter.

That is all.