Pulp; wasn't really a fan back in the day and that hasn't changed, ephemeral nostalgia notwithstanding.
That doesn't mean I don't shake my shit to Common People. I like Hardcore for the video more than anything (have seriously considered installing mirror tiles just so I can throw a drink at my own reflection) and ripped off some of the imagery for an upcoming passage in The Blackthorn Orphans. You'll know it when you see it, lol. The Lovely R is much more of a fan and he shakes his shit to Different Class when I'm out shopping. Jarvis's sweaty ingrown snobbery/bossy bottom leg-humping gets on my last fucking nerve after about three songs. I don't know why they let him go on like that. It's nothing a studded paddle wouldn't fix.
Still, it was good to see the recent Pulp documentary A film about Life, Death and Supermarkets by my fellow New Zullander Florian Habicht on the weekend, and I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in music or the 90s per se. So much joy in listening to the cross-dressing Sheffieldian and his dysmorphic paramour; mad love is a wonderful thing and it does my heart good to know it is just as it ever was. It's also good to get baked and watch Trollhunter, another way to piss away a Saturday evening that I thoroughly recommend. We've been squaring our eyes lately watching so much new stuff that I haven't got around to reviewing any of it, so I might do one big post with a bunch of mini reviews just to tip you off to a few things worth your time.
Still, it was good to see the recent Pulp documentary A film about Life, Death and Supermarkets by my fellow New Zullander Florian Habicht on the weekend, and I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in music or the 90s per se. So much joy in listening to the cross-dressing Sheffieldian and his dysmorphic paramour; mad love is a wonderful thing and it does my heart good to know it is just as it ever was. It's also good to get baked and watch Trollhunter, another way to piss away a Saturday evening that I thoroughly recommend. We've been squaring our eyes lately watching so much new stuff that I haven't got around to reviewing any of it, so I might do one big post with a bunch of mini reviews just to tip you off to a few things worth your time.
Speaking of mad love, I was reading the paper the other day and discovered that really stupid book The Light Between Oceans is being partly filmed here in Port Chalmers. I haven't actually read it, but the synopsis... it does not please me and I wasted thirty damn seconds of my life being escorted to that conclusion by the prospect of a fucking shipwrecked baby. But: what dark magic spirits one of my celluloid husbands Mr Michael Fassbender hence, just when I'd become resigned to the idea of incorporating a dart gun and a large sack into our courtship? (It rubs the lotion on its skin.) I'd love to be able to promise footage of my hurdling set barriers and screaming "I named my fucking quail after you!" as Michael breaks character and bolts for his trailer, but when it comes down to it, I can never really be bothered crossing the road to piss on and/or frighten a celebrity. They're always shorter than you want to believe. And preoccupied, god. The selfish pricks. If I asked Rachel Weisz and Alicia Vikander for a three-way, they'd pretend to be in serious relationships just to make me feel bad.
> This isn't Michael Fassbender, it's Napolean, our Chinese Painted quail, enjoying excellent relations with Lightning Bolt and Hilary, his two Japanese girlfriends on a cold and windy day. He likes big butts and he can not lie.
The site had another record weekend so cheers for that. If you're reading and liking, tell a friend. Or an enemy.
> This isn't Michael Fassbender, it's Napolean, our Chinese Painted quail, enjoying excellent relations with Lightning Bolt and Hilary, his two Japanese girlfriends on a cold and windy day. He likes big butts and he can not lie.
The site had another record weekend so cheers for that. If you're reading and liking, tell a friend. Or an enemy.
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