My boyfriend has just described this band as "shit", which I asked him to clarify and admit that he meant "shit, in my opinion".
See, I do not think Arab Strap are shit.
I think Arab Strap are dead bloody brilliant.
I can't talk about this band in detail, because they make me feel mental and stupid and insecure and a bit disabled. For the same reasons I can't listen to them for very long either.
I discovered this band, and I think this is the crucial part, when I was going out with a complete twat and a lot of the things that the songs are about reflect how I felt back then. Well, the lyrics mainly don't make sense unless you're that person, but I can think of equivalent times. The whole atmosphere is that of claustrophobia and melancholy.
I generally favour party music, but when I need to force myself to FEEL SOMETHING, then this is a good option.
Oh I don't know.
I guess it's all about stealing other people's emotions and using them as starting points for having your own.
I'm truly glad I've never had a broken heart.
"They were deadly on the ground. Now they have wings..."
Jeeesus. I watched this film last night (yeah, nice back rubs, thanks) and once again realised how brilliant it is. I mean, really...
It just has every element needed to make a film Really Good.
Action. Violence. White vests. Gnarly music (How Do I Live... ohhhhhhh!).
LOOK WHAT HAPPENS:
That is the pure definition of gnarly.
For those of you who don't know, the basic plot of Con Air is:
Honourable Hero gets into a fight defending his wife and accidentally knacks some idiot.
He gets sent down for a number of years and learns Spanish and origami. He wears a vest a lot, keeps his head down and keeps buff. He eventually gets parole.
He ends up flying home on some sort of super plane for the worst villains in the world. CON AIR! IMAGINE THAT!
OBVIOUSLY, the villains have concocted a plot to escape! They do some violence (lead by Chief Crim. John Malcovich)... the police do some chasing... there's a bad paedo... the plane lands in the desert.
Police get more involved.
Crims get angsty.
JUMPING THROUGH GLASS WINDOWS.
NICHOLAS CAGE IN A VEST.
Paedo has a tea party with a little girl in the desert. It's FINE.
Um and that's it really.
More explosions. Some flying.
Happy ending with more How Do I Live. Then I cry a bit.
Anyway, it's triumphant and features lots and lots of MEN and it needs watching right now.
Ohhhh! It all started when Kieran was riding his bike into work a lot and I thought - I WANT A GO, but figured I'd be too wobbly/uncoordinated to do it properly. Turns out, I sort of was, but this has not defeated me.I went to ReCycle Bikes in Hyde Park and chose an awesome silver machine... the back of the seat featured the initials of my ex-boyfriend's band (RSP) and this almost put me off, but I sort of liked the symbolism, so kept it.
That first ride home was scary! I got shouted at for being on the pavement near the Arndale Centre, which was a bit awful, but there was no way I was going on roads during my first grown-up bike ride!
Anyway, I didn't do a massive amount of cycling on Bike #1, due to a combination of lack of opportunity and nerves, but during my (limited) free time I started going over to Kieran's house on it, where there's a nice long, straight bit of fairly quiet road. It really built my confidence and stamina.
I toyed with the idea of cycling into work, but didn't think it would be possible in a million years! However, when Kieran decided to get a new bike on the Bike To Work scheme, I figured I may as well, as mine was pretty knackered... I chose this:
because the second I laid eyes on it, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Yeah, I actually fell in love with a bike.
It took a couple of weeks to arrange everything, but my first ride home (from the shop with Kieran) was amazing. I kept shouting "THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE" and that's how it felt.
The next day at school was a training day and I actually put on my amazing lycra leggings and cycled into work, again accompanied by Keiran. It took me 1/2 hour, but I knocked 5 minutes off when I was on my own the next day and then a further five minutes over the next week and the best thing is IT FEELS LIKE I'M WINNING TIME BACKKKKK.
I'm actually doing something fun, something that makes me feel good, before my day even properly starts. It was only a fortnight of cycling into work before I felt my strength and stamina had increased noticeably.
Riding my bike makes me feel powerful (ironically, especially when I fall off - boo). It makes me feel like I am doing something good for myself and making small achievements. PROGRESSION. It makes me sweat and not care. it makes me feel good about wearing LUDICROUS lyrca outfits. Riding my bike makes me feel strong and smart, even though I am probably at my most vulnerable and quite regularly do stupid things.
In conclusion, I love my bike.
Well, firstly, I think Artimus Pyle is possible one of the best names I ever heard and sounds like it came out of JK Rowling's head. Okay, okay, so he's a convicted paedophile (plea bargain got him out of jail etc etc), but we can skim over that one...
Secondly, the plane crash! Fucking hell, that sort of thing is a one way ticket into the rock n roll hall of fame.
Thirdly, the three songs that matter:
1) Free Bird. This made me cry at the end of the Devil's Rejects. I fell in love with that song and listened to it repeatedly for weeks.
2) Simple Man
3) Sweet Home Alabama
Also, LOOK WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE:
Winning all round.
So mainly, I'm sitting here as I have been the last three nights, listening to Lynard Skynard and wishing they weren't Christian idiots. Fun times for all.
Comfy pants though are great for bathing babies and lounging and having DANCE TIME (ask Arlo and Henry, they like it). Comfy pants make you feel like a dirty slob and this leads to all kinds of disgraceful acts like eating bagels, watching Jeremy Kyle and laying on the living room floor for no real reason.
When a tradesperson comes to call (did I mention I live in the 1950s these days?) and I am wearing comfy pants I do feel slightly embarrassed, but also secretly proud.
*small dogs can fit into bags (YES, I know it's what losers do)
*small dogs look good with kitsch tea-sets
*small dogs can break rules (e.g. try smuggling a Rhodesian Ridgeback into a bookshop)s
*small dogs can sleep on beds without it being a compromise
*small dogs can be picked up, should it ever be necessary
*small dogs eat less
*a bite from a small dog is generally less annoying than a bite from a large dog
*small dogs can balance on shoulders
*small dogs look good in jumpers
Here are some good small dog breeds:
So there you are. Small dogs rule.
- Current Mood:posi, enthusiastic