conjoined at the tongue

I Am In Flavour Country

  Posted November 1st 2006 by PaPa

I expect that many of you, those with "lives" and suchlike, will have been out partying last night. Well, either that or Trick or Treating. Speaking of Trick or Treat, it seems like such a fucked up ritual these days. As far as I can see, the choice between tricking or treating is not decided by the one answering the door, but by the one soliciting an audience. Broadly, the "Treaters" are pre-teens out with the parents, typically wearing plastic masks and dustbin bags, accoutrements which are on some continents deemed terrifying, and the "Trickers" are 15-20 year old boys with an exaggerated belief in their own comic genius. What the fuck are the little kids and their parents going to do if someone says "Trick"? Jump up and down a bit? Murder the cat (unlikely)? No - the treaters have zero expectation of being denied confectionary. Similarly, what do the spotty teenagers who bought six months' supply of eggs before heading out do when the sweet old lady offers them a sugar mouse? Personally I'm suspicious as to whether they even ask the question in the first place - they're just out for some senseless vandalism, an act which they feel is somehow vindicated by the earth's current spatial co-ordinates. What kind of fucked up person prefers throwing eggs at windows to eating delicious candy anyway?

You may not have realised this, but the entire monologue above is in fact a wide digression from my subject. My actual intent was to write about The Secret Policeman's Ball, the Amnesty International associated comedy show that aired on Channel 4 last night. As I said, most of you were probably out getting drunk and laughing at how hilariously ironic each other's costumes were, meaning that you missed a consistently high-quality hour and a half of comedy. Starting with Eddie Izzard lambasting creationism and moving on to an interpretive dance performance of Natalie Imbruglia's 'Torn', the show continued strong, including various famous British and (apparently) famous American talents. Doubtless the entire show will be available on DVD for all you socialites, and I greatly recommend at least renting it.

Tasha's Hideous Laughter

  Posted October 31st 2006 by Dae

So I'm currently working on the first of the three films that are required of me by uni this year. "My Attempts to Meet Women," will, in Edmund's words, be "a giant roller coaster of a [film] 400 sizzling chapters. A searing indictment of domestic servitude in the eighteenth century with some hot gypsies thrown in." Seriously though, the film's hero works for a fictitious publishing company named 'EMOTIONAL PORNOGRAPHY Ltd'. In an effort to lend credibility to this organization I'm feeling pretty fly about having a small brass company nameplate made for it. Also once the film is done I get to keep the sweet plaque! You'll be able to see it in action around early December when I finish this puppy off (I'm hoping it'll look something much cooler than this)...

Anyhoo, this here page is now 300% RSS compatible! For you this means you can subscribe to the feed via your browser and get to know when this page is updated without so much as checking it. For me it means I get to have this sweet RSS button over on the left there!

If you're at a loose end you might want to check out IIONG, a webcomic I've been enjoying recently, run over and /sign my Open Letter to Blizzard Entertainment in the forums or marvel at Phillies pimp Halloween outfit.

brakeup anxiety

  Posted October 29th 2006 by Dae

Just finished the quickest video I ever did make. You should check it out!

For a limited time only!

  Posted October 21st 2006 by Dae


Salivating Preemptively?

  Posted October 17th 2006 by Dae

Good, 'cos I got UPDATES.

Patrons of superlatenight come complete, and indeed have done for some time, with their own wee profiles. Only recently however have I actually coded the ability to edit profile preferences. Not only does everyone now get to upload a picture and pick a website of their choice, but make use of their very own bio (for, you know, those sweet psuedo-erotic European films you're so keen on and this or that new indie trash that you cram your no doubt immaculate ears with and the gory details of your new exercise regime or diet or sexual philosophy or GUYS JUST WHATEVER YOU WANT).

If you have any garbage left over, the prenatal blog system mentioned in the last post has now come to a golden, or at least lightly toasted, fruition. To extend the metaphor, users are encouraged to choose their own spread from a truly incomparable selection of late night jams. Honestly, if you really must blog somewhere - and let's be frank few don't in this day and age - you may as well do it in a place where the pervasive stench of corporate media is rendered rather distant by the heady musk of casio wristwatches, SNES controllers and tobacco stained pipes. The future, it turns out, is the past, which if you ask me is going to put a lot of astronauts out of business.

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