Monday, August 27, 2007
Booya!
Holidays, it turns out, really agree with me. Two weeks of no graft and I feel like a new man. I also look like a new man, according to a variety of colleagues, and not just cos I've had a haircut.
I kicked off with five days chillin in london town with sunny b and the boyz (being ronan and tom, who paid a surprise visit, presumably because they couldn't countenance the thought of an aido-less dublin for such a stretch).
I would like to say I 'did' the whole London experience, but that would be a lie. Unless home removals and getting binned have, unbeknownst to me, superceded shopping, sightseeing and those gay beefeater teddys as tourism must-dos in the english capital. Still, I visited a number a fine drinkeries; enjoyed typically quality time with the lads and, crucially, didn't bankrupt myself in the process...
Next up was my return to Sheffield. Apprehensive as I was, this turned out to be a reet treet (as they say oop north). Old sex city has had a most agreeable facelift since I abandoned it; though like an familiar proz with a new make-up job, still felt the same where it counts. Twas lovely seeing MB, Jon, Andre, Winky, The King, all the Clements and everyone else again. Maybe next time I visit the ladies Clea and Amy won't flee the place...
The business of my return was to be Godfather for Ben and Liz's delightful new nipper, Dan the Man. He's a wee dote. I look forward to corrupting him. Pictures as soon as I get em.
From Old Sheffo to Edinburgh, Andrea, film fest and more freaks than Tod Browning would know what to do with. I love festival time up there and have decided it's gonna be a standing order for years to come. Again, one doesn't need a pile of money to make it fun (though I imagine it would help immeasurably)- just some decent weather (which I had) and a healthy interest in bright lights and colours.
Quick rundown of some of the films I ate:
WAZ; Se7en-esque serialkiller fare. Decent enough- elevated above it's genre by a typically excellent performance from Stellan Skaarsgard and an untypically excellent one from Selma Blair. Interestingly enough, it was set in New York, but filmed in Belfast.
RIZA; Tedious, Joyless nonsense from Turkey. The kind of crap we were force-fed in uni, which no right-thinking casual cinemagoer will ever so much as hear of. Lucky bastards.
ONCE; Dublin-set lighthearted romantic musical. Sweet and enjoyable enough despite near-constant intrusion of sub-David-Gray whine-a-thons penned by the star (a busker on grafton st.)
EXTRAORDINARY RENDITION; Another slab of depression, this time made slightly more palatable by the fact that it was (a) thematically contemporary and (b) not shite. It concerned the abduction of a Middle-Eastern uni professor of the streets of london, and his subsequent extradition to an unnamed african country for "interrogation". While not actually based on a true story, it is, apparantly, a fairly common practice for the CIA, aided and abetted by the UK government. Sobering stuff.
MANUFACTURING DISSENT; A 2-hour character-assassination of Michael Moore by a couple of lefty canadians. Most of their points were as fatuous and overblown as anything Moore has done, but like Moore, they also have just about enough real facts to make it worth watching. Not half as entertaining as the Q&A which followed, which saw some rabid lefty american ex-pat make a barrage of ill-thought-out accusations against the film-makers, to the point where the audience were attacking her, leaving the bemused canadians (and q&a host) staring on agape, completely forgotten about.
THIS FILTHY WORLD; A film of John Waters discussing his life, films and anything else that pops into his head, before an audience in some american university. Needless to say, this was extremely good- basically it's a stand-up routiene. My only frustration was that I couldn't get tickets to the premiere, where the man himself was hosting an extended q&a afterwards. That would have been bitchin'.
Which brings me to what was both the high-point and low-point of the week. I'd been looking forward to seeing I'M A CYBORG, BUT THAT'S OKAY, the new film by Park Chan Wook (genius behind Oldboy, Lady Vengeance and one of my own personal heroes). Sadly, they'd sold out well before my arrival in Edinburgh, and my efforts to get last-minute cancellation tickets at the box-office having met with frustration, I took to the adjoining bar to drown my sorrows.... when who should I see wandering around looking at pictures on the wall but PARK CHAN FUCKING WOOK HIMSELF (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
After creaming my jeans, I tried to sidle up to him, only to be told by a staff member that, despite the absence of tape, barriers or demarkation of any sort, it was in fact a VIP area and I was not allowed in. Probably for the best since I'd have no clue what to say to him and I'm not even sure he speaks english, since the other heads in the VIP weren't talking to him either. Still. Not often I get to be within sandwich-throwing distance of a true-blue idol. Made me feel all funny it did.
Then I went home. This too was delightful, especially since everyone seems to be in fine fettle. Grainne looks about ready to pop, and Olivia is gradually betraying her condition too.
Today was me first day back at work. It seems the people here have a newfound respect for me, having spent the last 2 weeks doing my job. I doubt there has ever been a better time to ask for a payrise.
Until again.
Aido "I also saw Rush Hour 3, but I don't want to talk about it" Potato
Holidays, it turns out, really agree with me. Two weeks of no graft and I feel like a new man. I also look like a new man, according to a variety of colleagues, and not just cos I've had a haircut.
I kicked off with five days chillin in london town with sunny b and the boyz (being ronan and tom, who paid a surprise visit, presumably because they couldn't countenance the thought of an aido-less dublin for such a stretch).
I would like to say I 'did' the whole London experience, but that would be a lie. Unless home removals and getting binned have, unbeknownst to me, superceded shopping, sightseeing and those gay beefeater teddys as tourism must-dos in the english capital. Still, I visited a number a fine drinkeries; enjoyed typically quality time with the lads and, crucially, didn't bankrupt myself in the process...
Next up was my return to Sheffield. Apprehensive as I was, this turned out to be a reet treet (as they say oop north). Old sex city has had a most agreeable facelift since I abandoned it; though like an familiar proz with a new make-up job, still felt the same where it counts. Twas lovely seeing MB, Jon, Andre, Winky, The King, all the Clements and everyone else again. Maybe next time I visit the ladies Clea and Amy won't flee the place...
The business of my return was to be Godfather for Ben and Liz's delightful new nipper, Dan the Man. He's a wee dote. I look forward to corrupting him. Pictures as soon as I get em.
From Old Sheffo to Edinburgh, Andrea, film fest and more freaks than Tod Browning would know what to do with. I love festival time up there and have decided it's gonna be a standing order for years to come. Again, one doesn't need a pile of money to make it fun (though I imagine it would help immeasurably)- just some decent weather (which I had) and a healthy interest in bright lights and colours.
Quick rundown of some of the films I ate:
WAZ; Se7en-esque serialkiller fare. Decent enough- elevated above it's genre by a typically excellent performance from Stellan Skaarsgard and an untypically excellent one from Selma Blair. Interestingly enough, it was set in New York, but filmed in Belfast.
RIZA; Tedious, Joyless nonsense from Turkey. The kind of crap we were force-fed in uni, which no right-thinking casual cinemagoer will ever so much as hear of. Lucky bastards.
ONCE; Dublin-set lighthearted romantic musical. Sweet and enjoyable enough despite near-constant intrusion of sub-David-Gray whine-a-thons penned by the star (a busker on grafton st.)
EXTRAORDINARY RENDITION; Another slab of depression, this time made slightly more palatable by the fact that it was (a) thematically contemporary and (b) not shite. It concerned the abduction of a Middle-Eastern uni professor of the streets of london, and his subsequent extradition to an unnamed african country for "interrogation". While not actually based on a true story, it is, apparantly, a fairly common practice for the CIA, aided and abetted by the UK government. Sobering stuff.
MANUFACTURING DISSENT; A 2-hour character-assassination of Michael Moore by a couple of lefty canadians. Most of their points were as fatuous and overblown as anything Moore has done, but like Moore, they also have just about enough real facts to make it worth watching. Not half as entertaining as the Q&A which followed, which saw some rabid lefty american ex-pat make a barrage of ill-thought-out accusations against the film-makers, to the point where the audience were attacking her, leaving the bemused canadians (and q&a host) staring on agape, completely forgotten about.
THIS FILTHY WORLD; A film of John Waters discussing his life, films and anything else that pops into his head, before an audience in some american university. Needless to say, this was extremely good- basically it's a stand-up routiene. My only frustration was that I couldn't get tickets to the premiere, where the man himself was hosting an extended q&a afterwards. That would have been bitchin'.
Which brings me to what was both the high-point and low-point of the week. I'd been looking forward to seeing I'M A CYBORG, BUT THAT'S OKAY, the new film by Park Chan Wook (genius behind Oldboy, Lady Vengeance and one of my own personal heroes). Sadly, they'd sold out well before my arrival in Edinburgh, and my efforts to get last-minute cancellation tickets at the box-office having met with frustration, I took to the adjoining bar to drown my sorrows.... when who should I see wandering around looking at pictures on the wall but PARK CHAN FUCKING WOOK HIMSELF (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
After creaming my jeans, I tried to sidle up to him, only to be told by a staff member that, despite the absence of tape, barriers or demarkation of any sort, it was in fact a VIP area and I was not allowed in. Probably for the best since I'd have no clue what to say to him and I'm not even sure he speaks english, since the other heads in the VIP weren't talking to him either. Still. Not often I get to be within sandwich-throwing distance of a true-blue idol. Made me feel all funny it did.
Then I went home. This too was delightful, especially since everyone seems to be in fine fettle. Grainne looks about ready to pop, and Olivia is gradually betraying her condition too.
Today was me first day back at work. It seems the people here have a newfound respect for me, having spent the last 2 weeks doing my job. I doubt there has ever been a better time to ask for a payrise.
Until again.
Aido "I also saw Rush Hour 3, but I don't want to talk about it" Potato
Comments:
whats wrong with rush hour 3 that is right with knocked up?...go on talk about it, you know you want to...
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