- The Moonfish is a highly anomalous endotherm.
I told you about this fish and you totally fucking thought I was exaggerating. They are everything.
Legless wonders! Bless'd cobalt emissaries! Spheroid teuthoidean judgement!
Just sayin.
- David Lynch has finished spitting the dummy over the proposed Showtime budget and walked back into production of a new run of Twin Peaks. Feeling old? Well it is twenty. five. bloody. years. since the thing first aired so that's probably accurate but hey, at least we're still here. #matureflavabitches
- In other news, I cut my own hair. Do you do this? I just can't pay some simpering random $140 to send me home looking like a fucking surrendered wife. Basic straight hair might be a candidate for stranger scissor danger, but mine's mick/spic curly and fights off edge weapons and every product known to man in its quest for maximum thermonuclear frizz/manic waywardness. I used to resort to sheer length to keep it pointing downwards, but then went 40 vol. crazy on its arse when it was black to the power of infinity, trying for orange (don't do that). Was wearing it in some sort of bullshit recovery bob but that was so darn cute that I snapped and murdered it with the Lovely R's beard scissors. At first the result was horrific but then, as I kept hacking in despair, something magical happened; my hair went from caught up in a polyester nightie fire to just unfuckable cracker fro. Universe, you shouldn't have.
Luckily my partner has a darksided taste for insane clown posse/Marla Singer dos. I've rediscovered my love of institutional backcombed realness and Schwarzkopf Silhouette is still the fucking hairspray of the gods after all these years, right senior goths? Remember spotting hash with that piece you were trying to nail and holding a zippo under the blast of pressurised crystalline awesomeness streaming from that big black can and shrieking with senseless laughter as 3 metre tongues of fiery slo-mo death leap forth to the sound of Andrew Eldritch droning really loudly about turning the gold to chrome? Because I'd never be that irresponsible.
I told you about this fish and you totally fucking thought I was exaggerating. They are everything.
Legless wonders! Bless'd cobalt emissaries! Spheroid teuthoidean judgement!
Just sayin.
- David Lynch has finished spitting the dummy over the proposed Showtime budget and walked back into production of a new run of Twin Peaks. Feeling old? Well it is twenty. five. bloody. years. since the thing first aired so that's probably accurate but hey, at least we're still here. #matureflavabitches
- In other news, I cut my own hair. Do you do this? I just can't pay some simpering random $140 to send me home looking like a fucking surrendered wife. Basic straight hair might be a candidate for stranger scissor danger, but mine's mick/spic curly and fights off edge weapons and every product known to man in its quest for maximum thermonuclear frizz/manic waywardness. I used to resort to sheer length to keep it pointing downwards, but then went 40 vol. crazy on its arse when it was black to the power of infinity, trying for orange (don't do that). Was wearing it in some sort of bullshit recovery bob but that was so darn cute that I snapped and murdered it with the Lovely R's beard scissors. At first the result was horrific but then, as I kept hacking in despair, something magical happened; my hair went from caught up in a polyester nightie fire to just unfuckable cracker fro. Universe, you shouldn't have.
Luckily my partner has a darksided taste for insane clown posse/Marla Singer dos. I've rediscovered my love of institutional backcombed realness and Schwarzkopf Silhouette is still the fucking hairspray of the gods after all these years, right senior goths? Remember spotting hash with that piece you were trying to nail and holding a zippo under the blast of pressurised crystalline awesomeness streaming from that big black can and shrieking with senseless laughter as 3 metre tongues of fiery slo-mo death leap forth to the sound of Andrew Eldritch droning really loudly about turning the gold to chrome? Because I'd never be that irresponsible.
 Cool, but needs more racism. |  Close. Very close. |
- Let's look at some of the flag designs submitted to the latest pointless expensive distraction exercise conducted by our beloved neoliberal overlords. While I like all of these, the bottom two have stolen my heart and captured my mind with their concise and almost devastating summation of our national identity. What could be more important?
 |  |
I can't decide between them. They're by James Gray of Auckland. Art does not apologise and neither does James. "The laser beam projects a powerful image of New Zealand. I believe my design is so powerful it does not need to be discussed." James' electrifying response is turning throughputs into outcomes right before my dazzled eyes. When this kind of assurance meets that kind of competence the synergy must surely propel him instantly into mainstream politics- I'm only surprised he's not Prime Minister already, except that sarcasm ninjas need not apply because obviously.
We need to celebrate James' vision with some Strokes. This is the only song of theirs I like, I promise. What I really want to do is push Julian hard under a big fucking bus, but this engulfing black sludge takes the edge off while I wait for the opportunity.
This week is retro feature week because I deserve a break.
We need to celebrate James' vision with some Strokes. This is the only song of theirs I like, I promise. What I really want to do is push Julian hard under a big fucking bus, but this engulfing black sludge takes the edge off while I wait for the opportunity.
This week is retro feature week because I deserve a break.
RSS Feed
