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Bee in my Bonnet

10 May

Sometimes I watch children’s television. No, not television belonging to childrens! Programmes that are made for children! This includes watching animated movies way beyond when I should really have been watching them ie: 15 light years ago.

This one day (yesterday) I felt like a cranky old thunderpant and so I watched Bee Movie thinking that it would remind me of the fruits of nature or something. What it really did was portray bees as smug, stripy oblongs and oh my stars Jerry Seinfeld, guess what? I’m not so wild about bees anymore.

This is the star of the show; Barry Bee Benson. How darling! No. Firstly, he’s a manipulative little bastard. Secondly, close your legs Barry. Ain’t nothing to toot your horn about there.

Basic synopsis; Barry manages to escape his job at Honex, where he makes, at a guess…honey? And goes to NYC where he meets Vanessa, who comfort eats compost and replaces her human boyfriend with the creepiest cross-breed relationship known to man. Barry then goes on to sue the human race for stealing the bees honey. Yes. I know what you’re thinking. This one’s right up there with Anna-Nicole claiming she had sex with a ghost. As dumb as a cow at a country dance.

Here’s something pretty normal. Barry Bee and Vanessa enjoying a post-coital cigarette! Hey Jerry Seinfeld? If you’re going to create a new society for a film, as in, the world of bees, next time…remember laws you crazy bitch! This is as sick as old farm surgery on a Saturday night. At least they’re practising safe sex though*.

*You probably just shouldn’t have sex with bees. Probably.

Look! It’s Sting! The happiest camper at the Senior Citizens’ Day Camp! I love Sting because he is the most wonderful little old man performer and in this film his head looks like something that’s come out of the business end of a chicken. He makes a cameo in Bee Movie because he’s the only kook on the face of the planet whose name sort of relates to insects. My kinda man! But Barry’s boring old bee balls strike again and Sting gets sent down for being a bee imposter. Probably for the best though. Everyone knows he’s the merry murderer of reggae.

Ken, you look a little strir crazy but you just captured a bee in a fucking sweater and put him in a glass jar! Give the guy some credit Vanessa! Ken is so underrated in Bee Movie. Who wouldn’t love a guy that looks like an axe-wielding maniac? With a Bob’s your uncle hack job hair-cut? And that jumbo chin? To die for. Anywho, I think it’s time to set Barry free Ken. Let him fly! Let all the Barrys in the world fly!

Finally, here is something quite nice that almost restores my faith in Bee Movie. Watch it, because it will make you feel like you’ve just had your portion of Strega Nona’s Magic Pasta Pot…if you know what I mean. Over and out

Age Concern in Tennessee

18 Oct

Sweet. Jolly. Cowboy. What in the name of gospel has happened to Kings of Leon??!!!

Is it me or did someone just take a bite from the boring end of old wrinkle pie? Yes. I’m talking to you Caleb Followill. The last time I saw you, you were gnawing on a chicken bone. Whilst showering.  Whilst telling me my sex is on fire. Whilst committing GBH on your own sibling. Now look at you! You’re as clean as a Cockfosters whistle! You’re the straightest chimney in the stack!  You’re the shiniest pork sausage in the Kings of Leon bun! What the fuck is going on here?

There are a whole host of things in their new video ‘Radioboreoff’ that just tickle me pink and will help illustrate my point. I took some stills from the video. Yes. Yes I did.

Caleb looks like a compressed elf against those giant doors but who doesn’t love feeling really tiny now and then? One of two things is going to happen here. 1. Bruce Spingsteen is going to burst through the barn doors on a chariot singing Born to Run. Or 2. A group of small children are going to make Caleb emperor of their village. I know what you’re thinking. “Both those scenarios are totally unrealistic Georgie! Just like the tale of Tom Cruise being straight!” but wait….

…LOOK it’s the Pied Piper of Hamelin!

Flat. Out. Creepy. Really. Really creepy Caleb.

Nathan ejected himself from the fun seat and landed here. In the middle of a childrens gospel choir. Man he looks uncomfortable. Come to think of it those kids look pretty fucking bored too. They’ re probably waiting for KOL to get the flying dutchman out of their goddam hood so they can get on and win an academy award for this shit music video. Especially that one in the red. He forgot his uniform.

Hey Old Father Time! When did you decide to age 30 years? What happened to that spritely quiff? When did you grow jowls? This face is nothing to write home about anymore and it’s making me chuckle damn hard. But that’s not important right now. First, we need to solve the mystery of the Pied Piper imposter.

MYSTERY SOLVED!

Urrrrrm Caleb? What is that orbiting your six pack? Did you swallow a dumpy calf? Your tummy looks a little puffier than when I saw it at Glastonbury in 2008. And your trousers are all droopy. And even those braces aren’t helping.  It’s a bit of a car crash Caleb. The nail in the coffin. All bets are off.

Hi Happy Campers! Here’s Caleb cooking some chicken with a dominant oven glove. It really adds edge to that train driver look he’s going for.

Finally, here is something to wash your eyes of the comtemporary Kings of leon crisis.

KOL OF CHRISTMAS PAST!!

Precious boys. Night y’all.

Old and New

1 Sep

Hits on my blog have gone up in the last couple of days and I only just realised that it’s because way back when I thought this might be some kind of fashion blog, (I know. What?) I wrote a short bio on Corinne Day who passed away last Friday. R.I.P.

I actually wrote that piece as part of my journalism course which you wouldn’t believe I ever took with all the rambling crap that spills out of my brain on to this blog.  Luckily it paid off and now I am given money to write so I can pretty much sack this one off.

JUST KIDDING GANG! I would never do that. I wouldn’t. But I’ll leave you with this: my brain is currently being held in a Reiss vice but will return in due course.  In the mean time…LOOK! I went to Paris with my friend Gail force! And Plan B got us VIP tickets to a festival! But we accidentally missed him! And so we watched LCD Soundsystem!  And we ate frumps! I love Pareeee. It’s Rad.

Great Beasts of the West Bank

18 Aug

My two favourite things in the world in no particular order are:

Dilly dog and Aggie dog.

You know you have certain people in your life that make everything better? The people who when you’re feeling like a total frump, look at you as if you’re Audrey Hepburn, as if you’re Brigitte Bardot, as if you’re the World Cup, as if you’re Beyonce’s left thigh, as if you’re Margaret Thatcher on a cold day. No wait. What? As if you’re wearing a cat on your head and calling it a hat. Basically, as if there is nothing better in the whole world than you. Yes? I know what you’re thinking. Most people would call this person their boyfriend. NOT ME! I get my pint of ego boost from a couple of crazy old gals with a fondness for boiled ham. Hear me now.

I’ve already written about Aggie on this blog more times than I care to remember and quite frankly there’s no mystery there anymore. Chewing is still in. It’s still in vogue. It’s still hip. It’s year round. It’s always in season. Get yourself a ticket on the chew chew train that departs for chew ville in one hour because that’s where this party is headed.  My mum told me that last weekend she chewed through a whole door. Really? Weird. Really weird Aggie. Why would you do that? I don’t know.

Anyway. So. This time I am going to dedicate a post to that grand old dame, Dilly dog.

Just look at this gorgeous antique.

Wrinkles are the best! And make the most of this five minutes of fame Dilly, because I’m pretty sure that you have exceeded the average age of the common Jack Russell and are now playing in extra time. Hear me sister?

I love Dilly because she is this crazy kook who is so old that her teeth rattle when she gets excited.  But she is class.  She is first class. She is Virgin Atlantic Upper Class and deserves a goddam OBE for still trying really hard to be a dog despite actually being more like a puffy barrel with stumps and squidgy skin that you can knead like dough. And I don’t want to knead her skin like dough.  I don’t, but I can’t help imagining what that would feel like. Pretty sick probably.  Anyway, that’s simply not reality. I digress.

The other day, I tried to play fetch with Dilly and caught the whole thing on camera! Love it! Girls on film! The only problem was that she didn’t quite grasp the aim of the game. That. Or perhaps she has just given up trying to entertain a yob with a camera (ME you flipsticks!).

Attempt 1: FAIL. Not even looking in the right direction.

Did a French clown just walk past the door Dilly? Or was it Oprah? Or was it your BRAIN? I don’t know. But unless whoever it was happened to be offering you a dip in the youth fountain while they walked by, there is no reason for you NOT TO BE LOOKING AT THE BALL DURING THIS FUN GAME.

Attempt 2: FAIL. Ball misplaced (Under her own body)

I don’t give a flying fig what you say. Old or not. This is as dumb as stumps.

Attempt 3: FAIL. Two balls? You haven’t even completed level one of this game yet!

Hey Aggie, who invited you? Don’t try and sneak into the back row. You haven’t paid! Get out! Out through that hole you chewed in the door!

Attempt 4: FAIL. Too busy posing for the camera to notice the ball.

BAM. There it is! The look! The look of love! The reason I don’t have a boyfriend! Why would you want one when you have this? Dilly you old fatty, I love you. You are rubbish at fetch but my goodness you would make a great couch cushion.

A Dilly dog, a silly dog

Won’t climb a single hilly dog.

And oh my gosh you need a wash

NO! don’t sit on my lap dog.

An Aggie dog, a waggy dog

Stop eating all my eggy dog.

By day you chew, by night you poo

I need a glass of wine dog.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like…

28 Jul

…No! Not Christmas you doughballs! It’s still July! It’s beginning to look a lot like my friend Jemma is being swallowed up by the big old hairy buck muncher that is America. RAAARRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (Yes. That is America. Scary, no?)

In January, Jemma got sick of saggy old England with its pavements of chicken scraps and pigeon shit and decided to pack her bags and head over the seas to Philadelphia. Rightly so, because this girl had bigger fish to fry. Quite literally! She got a job at the Philadelphia docks fish market, grew a big beard and there she lived happily ever after. The End.

JUST KIDDING!

What she really did was adopt this mega lifestyle where you have to at all times be chilling out maxing relaxing all cool and all shooting some b-ball outside of school and there. That’s it. This is good, because sometimes I pray to the monks in Montenegro that one day, I’ll be state side shooting some b-ball outside of school, and now I feel like I’m one step closer because my good old friend Jemma is out there sending general advice my way about how to live the American way of life. What she has come up with so far has been…actually pretty fucking weird. Her instruction mostly involves recommending I consume certain food or purchase sinister appliances and I can’t help but think that the people of America are feeding her a giant pile of baloney served at a big old yarn party.

Observe.

1. How to stay thin, by America.

Le Whif? Le what? Chocolate air?  I like eating chocolate as much as the next fat person but breathing it in?  That is a barf and a half.  Apparently it’s made with hundreds of milligrams of tiny chocolate particles that land on your tongue when you suck in. Sounds like something that might come out of the business end of a toad if you ask me. Buy Here! No thanks.

Hey! Check out these two cool clams just chilling out with their Le Whif’s. They really do add that special pizzazz to the ordinary man. Oh and that skull motif? LOVE IT. Stunning. Gorgeous. Perfection. Skull and wings. A match made in heaven.

On the website it says that ‘Whiffing chocolate is happening’. Where? WHERE?? I hear you ask.  ‘During a cab ride in New York, standing in a line in Tokyo, and at dinner tables and parties all around the world’!!!!!!!! Why would anyone be standing in a line in Tokyo?  And who’s party exactly? That’s awful. How distasteful. Or just an awful taste perhaps? I don’t know. Yet another mystery to knot the brain pipes.

2. How to have a riot, by America.

Jem rewards herself for scoring some sweet shots in the b-ball hoop with these rapscallions. Uk-ers, Britain-ers, England-ers. Whatever. Shut-Up. This is what REAL chocolate looks like in America. Mmmmmm. I bet you want to know what happens at a sweetriot party now I’ve lured you in this far. Yes? YES! Well apart from being a chocolate covered nib, a sweetriot is ‘a joyful celebration of culture, diversity, and understanding — it is the opposite of a civil riot, which is dangerous, violent, and oppressing’.  Yikes! That is a big old occupation for one nib. Barack Obama, is that you hiding in that tiny tin? It is? Well come out because guess what. You just killed the riot party.

But what happens after the party finishes you ask? DON’T PANIC. This party never ends you crazy bitches. The sweetriot tin is recyclable, reusable and returnable. Yes. Yes it is.

Look at what Ted Ko did with his tins! Tins for gadgets! Tins for earphones! Tins for iPod cords! Man he knows how to mix this party up!

Also, Susie Princess King says, ‘My family uses the empty tin to keep small treats for me when I attend my weekly obedience class and when out for a walk’.

Urrrrm Susie. Are you a dog? Did you type this yourself? Has this party just got a bit too crazy for my liking? I think it has. I’m outta here.

3. How to get fucked up, by America.

I don’t even know you guys, I don’t even know. Jemma gets it. She gets what’s for dinner. She gets us. You can take the girl out of Wales but you can’t take Wales out of the girl. True dat. You crazy wizard.

Video of Happiness

16 Jul

I know what your thinking. This isn’t a fashion blog. It couldn’t be further from being a fashion blog. But it is my blog and I work in fashion so just roll with this one ok?

Even if wearing orthopedic wedges is your thing, I’m still confident you are only a short way off appreciating this video sneak peek. I can’t high five my boss enough today for creating this little beauty. And you know who’s also a cool man? I do. Jamie Morgan. He did a lot of crazy creative shit before this but I’m pretty sure this venture must be one of his favourites because he gave us a Doberman. Yeah. Yeah he did French Connection.

So there it is. That’s it…Until September. Watch this space.

Grade-A Nervous Breakdown

9 Jul

I turned 25 this week.  My brother called me ‘ancient’. This is how I feel about the situation:

I’m galloping towards 30 like a frisky stallion. Yikes.