Dear all
I hadn't really planned on doing a blog today, but since I removed my hilariously witty t-shirt designs lest the evil corporation tried to steal my ideas and I saw something worth sharing, I thought I'd give you an impromptu treat. AREN'TIGENEROUSYES.
I was casually Facebook stalking people I used to go to school with just now, and came across someone I never really spoke to all that much, but Facebook being what it is, I was forced to click on their page and start scanning through the entire repertoire of meaningless drivel known as their "life". I'm actually still laughing away to myself about what I found.
As I was creeping through this person's pictures and I found one on which they had commented "Oh my shit stain :P" I stopped and read it a few times to make sure I was seeing it right, but indeed, someone had used their own shit stain as a means of exclaiming their surprise and disgust at a photograph.
Really? We're doing that kind of thing now? Am I really out of the loop here? Has this been going on for a while?? What next? "Oh my weeping anus"? "Oh my used sanitary towel"? I am llol-ing (literally laughing out loud <<< fyi, correct use of the word "literally") on my own, in my room, at my own jokes whilst typing this to share it with all you lovely readers. So you'd better be llol-ing too, otherwise I look like a maniacal fool.
Over and Out.
Monday, 19 December 2011
Thursday, 15 December 2011
There's a Hole in that Snowflake
Oh woe is me! Here I am, back at home for Christmas all excited about the prospect of watching Elf and crocheting to my heart's content in preparation of the upcoming festivities and being reunited with my graphics tablet, only to discover that NONE of these things can happen!
There I was on Sunday afternoon avidly refreshing my Facebook homepage, because all my friends are "so interesting"* and definitely not just a distraction from the portfolio I was trying to finish. I was all *scroll scroll scroll like scroll scroll*, when I saw a status that referred to the fact that Elf, THE best Christmas film of all time would be on that very afternoon...exactly 24 hours before I would be home where there's a TV for me to watch things like Elf and Neighbours and Murder, She Wrote. Oh! I could have WEPT. And I did, inwardly, where people can't judge you for it.
After that, I decided to do a bit of crocheting to calm myself down. And guess what. I bloody bought the bloody wrong bloody wool. Annoyed much? Yes, I was. And that's pretty much the story. I've decided I'm going to blame my mistake on the fact that I didn't get to watch Elf this year...even though I bought the wool before I found out about that...
So anyway, when I did finally get home, when I DIDN'T finally watch Elf, I went a-searchin' for my graphics tablet, as made famous by such timeless blogs as "The One About John Travolta Being a Catfish" and "I found a Photograph of Mr Whitehairblackbeard". Couldn't bloody well find it, could I? No I could not. In fairness, I didn't look all that hard - I was brushing my teeth at the time and thinking about all the antelopes who were dying, but it should have been in a fairly obvious place. I *think* I left it on a chair. But I can't be sure. If anyone has seen it, please return it to me immediately. It is greyish-black; charcoal you might say, and it has a pen of the same colour with a little white tip - that's what you do the drawings with.
Needless to say, I've been quite distressed. To calm myself down, I sat for one whole hour this evening, obsessively taking my laptop to bits and cleaning away all the dust with a paint brush.
And now I've upset myself even further looking at the above photograph of me that was taken just minutes ago. I'd better go and eat a novelty biscuit quickly to reverse the effect.
*Anyone reading this clearly falls into the bracket of "actually interesting". Please discount yourselves from this droplet of sarcasm that was added to further the horrible, cynical persona I'm crafting for myself upon the internet. Obviously I'm really nice and genuine in real life, just like every other person who writes a blog to make themselves feel better about the fact that their life is an endless drag from one moment to the next.
There I was on Sunday afternoon avidly refreshing my Facebook homepage, because all my friends are "so interesting"* and definitely not just a distraction from the portfolio I was trying to finish. I was all *scroll scroll scroll like scroll scroll*, when I saw a status that referred to the fact that Elf, THE best Christmas film of all time would be on that very afternoon...exactly 24 hours before I would be home where there's a TV for me to watch things like Elf and Neighbours and Murder, She Wrote. Oh! I could have WEPT. And I did, inwardly, where people can't judge you for it.
After that, I decided to do a bit of crocheting to calm myself down. And guess what. I bloody bought the bloody wrong bloody wool. Annoyed much? Yes, I was. And that's pretty much the story. I've decided I'm going to blame my mistake on the fact that I didn't get to watch Elf this year...even though I bought the wool before I found out about that...
So anyway, when I did finally get home, when I DIDN'T finally watch Elf, I went a-searchin' for my graphics tablet, as made famous by such timeless blogs as "The One About John Travolta Being a Catfish" and "I found a Photograph of Mr Whitehairblackbeard". Couldn't bloody well find it, could I? No I could not. In fairness, I didn't look all that hard - I was brushing my teeth at the time and thinking about all the antelopes who were dying, but it should have been in a fairly obvious place. I *think* I left it on a chair. But I can't be sure. If anyone has seen it, please return it to me immediately. It is greyish-black; charcoal you might say, and it has a pen of the same colour with a little white tip - that's what you do the drawings with.
Needless to say, I've been quite distressed. To calm myself down, I sat for one whole hour this evening, obsessively taking my laptop to bits and cleaning away all the dust with a paint brush.
And now I've upset myself even further looking at the above photograph of me that was taken just minutes ago. I'd better go and eat a novelty biscuit quickly to reverse the effect.
*Anyone reading this clearly falls into the bracket of "actually interesting". Please discount yourselves from this droplet of sarcasm that was added to further the horrible, cynical persona I'm crafting for myself upon the internet. Obviously I'm really nice and genuine in real life, just like every other person who writes a blog to make themselves feel better about the fact that their life is an endless drag from one moment to the next.
Friday, 9 December 2011
In the Eye of the Pickle
I don't know if you've noticed, but the quality of my drawings has been slightly less wonderful than usual. That's because I forgot to bring my graphics tab to Edinburgh. What a bummer. However, as of Monday, we shall be reunited. It will feel so good. Peaches & Herb will probably chronicle our reunion in a timeless love song.
Anyway, it turns out this is an avoidance blog. I have a portfolio of work due on the 15th, but since I'm going home on Monday, which is before the 15th, I need to get it done by Monday. And it last night became apparent to me that I hate almost everything I've written so far this year. So I'm in a pickle and that's no help at all, because carving out a six foot pickle to lie in and think about the poetry I haven't written is completely counter productive.
And I have a cold. It's a bad cold. Whenever I move my eyes, it would appear I'm moving backwards through time and that's a painful experience I can tell you because my eyes are already sore from all the staring at my crummy poems I've been doing.
And now to sew the parts of this apparently disjointed discourse together:
You see, I was talking about how bad my drawings have been at the beginning and now I've posted an example. Here we see me, inside a giant pickle, looking a lot like one of the creatures that stalk the sets of Dr Who, WHICH IS ABOUT TIME TRAVEL! And on that picture the woes of my failing health have been noted, and they're all reasons why my poetry apparently sucks.
So to conclude, I really need to stop wasting time writing pointless blogs and do some work. I'm glad we figured that out together, world! Until next time!
Anyway, it turns out this is an avoidance blog. I have a portfolio of work due on the 15th, but since I'm going home on Monday, which is before the 15th, I need to get it done by Monday. And it last night became apparent to me that I hate almost everything I've written so far this year. So I'm in a pickle and that's no help at all, because carving out a six foot pickle to lie in and think about the poetry I haven't written is completely counter productive.
And I have a cold. It's a bad cold. Whenever I move my eyes, it would appear I'm moving backwards through time and that's a painful experience I can tell you because my eyes are already sore from all the staring at my crummy poems I've been doing.
And now to sew the parts of this apparently disjointed discourse together:
You see, I was talking about how bad my drawings have been at the beginning and now I've posted an example. Here we see me, inside a giant pickle, looking a lot like one of the creatures that stalk the sets of Dr Who, WHICH IS ABOUT TIME TRAVEL! And on that picture the woes of my failing health have been noted, and they're all reasons why my poetry apparently sucks.
So to conclude, I really need to stop wasting time writing pointless blogs and do some work. I'm glad we figured that out together, world! Until next time!
Sunday, 20 November 2011
The Enemy
Hello!
Yes, I know it's only been three days since last I posted a lovely chunk of incoherent rambling, but I got all out of sync with my organisation last week and if I don't start obeying the timetable of my own creation, it will surely come to life and kill me. So for the sake of my mortal soul, just deal with it, okay? Anyway, I come bearing solid life advice; you would do well to heed it.
The other week, I wanted to brush my teeth before I went out, but also had to watch the end of an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I thought, what the hell, I'll just start brushing my teeth here in my room; the show will be finished before I am and I can hock my loogie in the sink.
I've always been the kinda gal who likes to wet my toothbrush both before AND after the application of the toothpaste, but that day I had to dry brush. And you know what? It didn't make a difference.
But I realised after a couple of days that it DOES make a difference. Do you know how many antelopes could bathe in those short bursts of water you use every time you wet your brush? Approximately 0.62. Do you know how many antelope die of not bathing each day? Approximately all of them.
So the next time you think about wetting your toothbrush before and after you apply the old fashioned paste we call 'tooth', think about this:
As you can see, this antelope is filthy and also dead. And you're to blame.
THE END.
Yes, I know it's only been three days since last I posted a lovely chunk of incoherent rambling, but I got all out of sync with my organisation last week and if I don't start obeying the timetable of my own creation, it will surely come to life and kill me. So for the sake of my mortal soul, just deal with it, okay? Anyway, I come bearing solid life advice; you would do well to heed it.
The other week, I wanted to brush my teeth before I went out, but also had to watch the end of an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I thought, what the hell, I'll just start brushing my teeth here in my room; the show will be finished before I am and I can hock my loogie in the sink.
I've always been the kinda gal who likes to wet my toothbrush both before AND after the application of the toothpaste, but that day I had to dry brush. And you know what? It didn't make a difference.
But I realised after a couple of days that it DOES make a difference. Do you know how many antelopes could bathe in those short bursts of water you use every time you wet your brush? Approximately 0.62. Do you know how many antelope die of not bathing each day? Approximately all of them.
So the next time you think about wetting your toothbrush before and after you apply the old fashioned paste we call 'tooth', think about this:
As you can see, this antelope is filthy and also dead. And you're to blame.
THE END.
Thursday, 17 November 2011
The Forgotten Title
So, I didn't get chance to write a blog on Sunday during the 2 hours I had scheduled, because I was really busy helping orphans and organising my filopastryfax* - efficient AND delicient. If anyone wants to buy one from me, they're retailing at around seventy ones pound and ninety 6 pee. Christmas is a busy time though, so get in quick!
I don't really have an awful lot to say this week. I had a filling done in April and it cracked this week while I was snacking on a filopastryfax, so now I have to trail all the way home to have it replaced NOT free of charge probably, which is most indecent. Especially since I read an article about youth unemployment this morning and the figure is quite horrifying. My face looked something like this:
**
But then I realised two things:
1) By the time I finish this degree, I'll be 25 and no longer classed as "youth", which means I'll almost definitely get a job, because all grown ups have jobs like astronaut and minicab driver and prostitute. If not, I have the option of becoming an alcoholic. Since this torturous "illness" is a classed as a "disability", it means I can live off the state for the rest of my life, get money and healthcare for nothing and in turn bleed the country dry, furthering youth unemployment in this precious time of recession.
2) I recently invented the famed filopastryfax and if that doesn't make me a million within the next year, I've no idea what will!
Yeah, so when I said I didn't have an awful lot to say, for once I wasn't lying. Tune in next week for details of my border collieflower!
OVER AND OUT!
*Filopastryfax is a figment of my imagination. If you are interested in purchasing a filopastryfax, send me your monies and I will burrow into your mind to plant the figment tree there also. In 6-8 weeks the figment tree will have sprouted many wonderful imaginings and you will have access to your filopastryfax.
**I have never read "Rage Comics" or any of its affiliates.
I don't really have an awful lot to say this week. I had a filling done in April and it cracked this week while I was snacking on a filopastryfax, so now I have to trail all the way home to have it replaced NOT free of charge probably, which is most indecent. Especially since I read an article about youth unemployment this morning and the figure is quite horrifying. My face looked something like this:
**But then I realised two things:
1) By the time I finish this degree, I'll be 25 and no longer classed as "youth", which means I'll almost definitely get a job, because all grown ups have jobs like astronaut and minicab driver and prostitute. If not, I have the option of becoming an alcoholic. Since this torturous "illness" is a classed as a "disability", it means I can live off the state for the rest of my life, get money and healthcare for nothing and in turn bleed the country dry, furthering youth unemployment in this precious time of recession.
2) I recently invented the famed filopastryfax and if that doesn't make me a million within the next year, I've no idea what will!
Yeah, so when I said I didn't have an awful lot to say, for once I wasn't lying. Tune in next week for details of my border collieflower!
OVER AND OUT!
*Filopastryfax is a figment of my imagination. If you are interested in purchasing a filopastryfax, send me your monies and I will burrow into your mind to plant the figment tree there also. In 6-8 weeks the figment tree will have sprouted many wonderful imaginings and you will have access to your filopastryfax.
**I have never read "Rage Comics" or any of its affiliates.
Sunday, 6 November 2011
A Plane Flies Low
Now then, now then. << A little tribute to Jimmy Saville there, God rest his soul.
My my, hasn't a lot happened since I last wrote a blog?! The answer is yes, a lot HAS happened since I last wrote a blog and I'm going to talk about a few of these things.
1) I've been thinking a lot lately about the way some people say, "Can I have a tad bit more?" and how much this syntactic indiscretion really pisses me off. Why don't people understand that a "tad" and a "bit" are the same thing? SYNONYMS YOU ARSEHOLES!! You only need to use one!
2) My nails are getting quite long, could really do with cutting them. Will probably do that once I've finished writing this.
3) Kim Kardashian got divorced after just 72 days of wedded bliss. Oh, what's that? You DIDN'T need or want to know that?? Well me neither, so maybe news websites could stop reporting this horseshit and concentrate on people who exist for reasons beyond promiscuity and excruciatingly idiotic life choices.
4) Gaddafi died. Did you know that? Oh but you MUST have seen the pictures since they were forced down our throats like caster oil. If you don't understand this similie allow me to elaborate: caster oil is disgusting and completely unnecessary and can often result in fecal incontinence when ingested. I was comparing it to the butchered images of a human, albeit an undeniably evil human, that were printed in the news as though they were real Kodak moments. What IS the world coming to? An end, that's my guess.
5) Halloween happened. I believe this took place all across the country, with Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire all included in the festivities, which is nice since they so often miss out on the hurricanes. (Oooo, does anyone get this reference??)
6) We got new neighbours. They are like small piles of dirt that have somehow managed to grow legs and arms, though their features and brains remain indefinable. They appear to have three settings: coitus, angry and fucking annoying. Often they combine all three, resulting in a fun-filled evening for yours truly, laid in bed, longing for death to steal his merciful cape across my weeping form.
7) I was shortlisted for the Bridport Prize again. I should probably be more happy about this, but right now, everything is one big long bad mood. So screw you Carol-Ann Duffy for not letting me win. (NB, Carol-Ann, if you're reading this, the hatred all just for dramatic effect and I respect your (misguided) decision.)
Yeah, so Best Beloved has been away for over 6 weeks and I've been utterly miserable. Thankfully he's back on Tuesday so I'll no doubt have something far more cheerful to say next week. Oh yes! I intend to start blogging every week now, you lucky, lucky readers! I've even written it into the colour-coded timetable I made to try and control my schedule, without which I'd probably just sit watching Grey's Anatomy all day, eating chocolate puddings and tuna straight out of the tin. Here is the aforementioned, non-prize-winning poem for you all to enjoy and not give any prizes to:
Something Unseen
My grandfather’s head,
rouged and fuzzy as a peach,
over by the window
looking out.
My storyteller wrapped in old blankets;
a line of porridge hardening on his front.
His hands are cupped claws, holding something;
some secret of the dead.
A man of the old armoured sea,
how does he feel now
on ground unmoving?
Still he sways,
lapping an imaginary shore
where his wife is standing,
bent double in a cotton frock
reaching for something unseen.
Peace out, Napoleon x
My my, hasn't a lot happened since I last wrote a blog?! The answer is yes, a lot HAS happened since I last wrote a blog and I'm going to talk about a few of these things.
1) I've been thinking a lot lately about the way some people say, "Can I have a tad bit more?" and how much this syntactic indiscretion really pisses me off. Why don't people understand that a "tad" and a "bit" are the same thing? SYNONYMS YOU ARSEHOLES!! You only need to use one!
2) My nails are getting quite long, could really do with cutting them. Will probably do that once I've finished writing this.
3) Kim Kardashian got divorced after just 72 days of wedded bliss. Oh, what's that? You DIDN'T need or want to know that?? Well me neither, so maybe news websites could stop reporting this horseshit and concentrate on people who exist for reasons beyond promiscuity and excruciatingly idiotic life choices.
4) Gaddafi died. Did you know that? Oh but you MUST have seen the pictures since they were forced down our throats like caster oil. If you don't understand this similie allow me to elaborate: caster oil is disgusting and completely unnecessary and can often result in fecal incontinence when ingested. I was comparing it to the butchered images of a human, albeit an undeniably evil human, that were printed in the news as though they were real Kodak moments. What IS the world coming to? An end, that's my guess.
5) Halloween happened. I believe this took place all across the country, with Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire all included in the festivities, which is nice since they so often miss out on the hurricanes. (Oooo, does anyone get this reference??)
6) We got new neighbours. They are like small piles of dirt that have somehow managed to grow legs and arms, though their features and brains remain indefinable. They appear to have three settings: coitus, angry and fucking annoying. Often they combine all three, resulting in a fun-filled evening for yours truly, laid in bed, longing for death to steal his merciful cape across my weeping form.
7) I was shortlisted for the Bridport Prize again. I should probably be more happy about this, but right now, everything is one big long bad mood. So screw you Carol-Ann Duffy for not letting me win. (NB, Carol-Ann, if you're reading this, the hatred all just for dramatic effect and I respect your (misguided) decision.)
Yeah, so Best Beloved has been away for over 6 weeks and I've been utterly miserable. Thankfully he's back on Tuesday so I'll no doubt have something far more cheerful to say next week. Oh yes! I intend to start blogging every week now, you lucky, lucky readers! I've even written it into the colour-coded timetable I made to try and control my schedule, without which I'd probably just sit watching Grey's Anatomy all day, eating chocolate puddings and tuna straight out of the tin. Here is the aforementioned, non-prize-winning poem for you all to enjoy and not give any prizes to:
Something Unseen
My grandfather’s head,
rouged and fuzzy as a peach,
over by the window
looking out.
My storyteller wrapped in old blankets;
a line of porridge hardening on his front.
His hands are cupped claws, holding something;
some secret of the dead.
A man of the old armoured sea,
how does he feel now
on ground unmoving?
Still he sways,
lapping an imaginary shore
where his wife is standing,
bent double in a cotton frock
reaching for something unseen.
Peace out, Napoleon x
Monday, 1 August 2011
The Methley Shallows
So, since Harry Potter fever has gripped the nation, nay, the world, I've found myself gripped by Harry Potter fever. And being of the generation who grew up at the same time as Harry, I was actually quite excited to see the last film. Oh, by the way, this is another film review. Good.
(NB, I did USED to be the same age as Harry Potter, but obviously in the parallel universe in which he lives, it is now 19 years in the future and Harry is in his 40s and sending the children he has with Ginny Weasley off to Hogwarts, which is safe once more since Harry killed Voldemort and restored goodness to the wizarding world. Btw, spoiler alert - I just told you then end of the film.)
Yeah, so several hundred years ago when I was a fresh-faced 11 year old I received a special piece of post. No, don't be silly, it wasn't a letter inviting me to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Lololololol! However, it DID contain the first two books in the Harry Potter series. "What's this?" thought I, bewildered and strangely excited. Turns out a friend of my mum had a son who worked for Bloomsbury and thought I may like to read these new books because I was about the right age for them. PERSONALLY I feel it was Bloomsbury tipping their hats to me following the manuscript I sent them for my very first novel, entitled Slug Alley; a thrilling tale about the gang warfare that took place amongst two groups of weight-lifting, cigarette-smoking slugs who lived in Britain but spoke as though they had been born and raised in Brooklyn. I'll leave you guys to draw your own conclusion.
I was sucked right in like the impressionable child I was. I bought every book IN HARDBACK pretty much the day it came out. Be under no illusion however, I was just as delightfully cynical then as I am now...I did NOT dress up as a witch or draw a spiderweb on my face or queue up for hours on end to take part in any Harry Potter "fun" days that were going on in conjunction with the release. I simply bought the books, went home and spent the next few days after that barely eating or sleeping because I was too busy reading. Imagine my restrained excitement when I found out they were going to make films of the series! And imagine my utter disappointment when I realised that Daniel Radcliffe can't act and Hollywood had ruined all the best characters! Sigh.
So there's the background...I liked reading the Harry Potter series and I thought the films were shit. And now to my review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt. 2, with some on-set photos I managed to get.
IT WAS AMAZING! I'd watched part 1 a couple of weeks before this one and it convinced me that I should give up my boycott of the Harry Potter cinema experience, because it would seem the producers had finally got it right. I'm guessing most people who have bothered to read this far have read the book or seen the film, so I'm not going to give a story break down, mostly because I prefer the way my own superior opinions look in type, so here they are:
1) I was very glad to see that they kept any Ginny Weasley scenes to a minimum and didn't really let her or Radderz speak all that much. They must have watched previous films and realised that these were the things that made them shit. Same goes for Fred and George Weasley. I don't think Warner Bros will ever be forgiven for their destruction of two of the best characters in the entire series.
2) I think it would have been a nice touch if the vampire-y type guy noshing down on the dead Ravenclaw, you know, the one Hermione blasts off as the three leads are heading to the boathouse to listen to Raif Fi-Enez killing Alan "My Voice Is Possibly The Most Sexually Alluring Sound Known To Man" Rickman? Yeah, that vampire-y guy...I think that part should have been played by R-Pattz...just to lighten the mood, you know? 'Cause it'd be all like, "Buuuh? Waaaaait a second! Cedric Diggory DIDN'T die?! He simply became a vampire and entered into a major movie franchise designed to encourage young girls that giving up their mortal soul to satisfy their overcharged adolescent urges is the only rational course of action?? OH! LOL!"
Yeah, I think that would have been a bit of fun, wouldn't it? Show Hazzer Potter that R-Pattz hasn't forgotten his grass roots since he got all UP in K-Stew's grill, right?
(NB, I'm not entirely sure that guy was meant to be a vampire...)
3) The guy they got to play Griphook was very good at doing ACTING. Very menacing. Nice to see a dwarf being used for something other than comedy effect.
4) The film made me cry. It's very rare I cry at the cinema (movies at home and episodes of Neighbours are a different story), so it must have been quite moving. I managed three highly dignified tears from my left eye, which rolled slowly and beautifully down my cheek.
Tear 1) The part where Lupin and Tonks lie side by side, dead, their hands barely touching.
Tear 2) Snape's memories. OH ALAN! If I'd been Lily Potter I totes would have gone for you! My favourite bit of the whole film was where Snape and Dumbledore are chewing the chat and Snape conjures his patronus and it's a doe, same as Lily's and Dumbledore says, "Lily?" and Snape replies, "Always." Whimper!
Tear 3) When Harry realises he's a whore, I mean horcrux, and heads for the forest but sees Ron and Hermione on the way and Hermione gives him a big crying cuddle and says she'll go with him. Waaaaah! Emma Watson did pretty well with that, imo.
I don't really have much more to say about it. If you're a fan, you SHOULD go and see it. If you're not, you should still go since the effects are pretty spectacular. I give it: 96g of Pick n Mix out of 100g of Pick n Mix.
Harry and his friends on set at the end when everything is happy again:
(NB, I did USED to be the same age as Harry Potter, but obviously in the parallel universe in which he lives, it is now 19 years in the future and Harry is in his 40s and sending the children he has with Ginny Weasley off to Hogwarts, which is safe once more since Harry killed Voldemort and restored goodness to the wizarding world. Btw, spoiler alert - I just told you then end of the film.)
Yeah, so several hundred years ago when I was a fresh-faced 11 year old I received a special piece of post. No, don't be silly, it wasn't a letter inviting me to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Lololololol! However, it DID contain the first two books in the Harry Potter series. "What's this?" thought I, bewildered and strangely excited. Turns out a friend of my mum had a son who worked for Bloomsbury and thought I may like to read these new books because I was about the right age for them. PERSONALLY I feel it was Bloomsbury tipping their hats to me following the manuscript I sent them for my very first novel, entitled Slug Alley; a thrilling tale about the gang warfare that took place amongst two groups of weight-lifting, cigarette-smoking slugs who lived in Britain but spoke as though they had been born and raised in Brooklyn. I'll leave you guys to draw your own conclusion.
I was sucked right in like the impressionable child I was. I bought every book IN HARDBACK pretty much the day it came out. Be under no illusion however, I was just as delightfully cynical then as I am now...I did NOT dress up as a witch or draw a spiderweb on my face or queue up for hours on end to take part in any Harry Potter "fun" days that were going on in conjunction with the release. I simply bought the books, went home and spent the next few days after that barely eating or sleeping because I was too busy reading. Imagine my restrained excitement when I found out they were going to make films of the series! And imagine my utter disappointment when I realised that Daniel Radcliffe can't act and Hollywood had ruined all the best characters! Sigh.
So there's the background...I liked reading the Harry Potter series and I thought the films were shit. And now to my review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt. 2, with some on-set photos I managed to get.
IT WAS AMAZING! I'd watched part 1 a couple of weeks before this one and it convinced me that I should give up my boycott of the Harry Potter cinema experience, because it would seem the producers had finally got it right. I'm guessing most people who have bothered to read this far have read the book or seen the film, so I'm not going to give a story break down, mostly because I prefer the way my own superior opinions look in type, so here they are:
1) I was very glad to see that they kept any Ginny Weasley scenes to a minimum and didn't really let her or Radderz speak all that much. They must have watched previous films and realised that these were the things that made them shit. Same goes for Fred and George Weasley. I don't think Warner Bros will ever be forgiven for their destruction of two of the best characters in the entire series.
2) I think it would have been a nice touch if the vampire-y type guy noshing down on the dead Ravenclaw, you know, the one Hermione blasts off as the three leads are heading to the boathouse to listen to Raif Fi-Enez killing Alan "My Voice Is Possibly The Most Sexually Alluring Sound Known To Man" Rickman? Yeah, that vampire-y guy...I think that part should have been played by R-Pattz...just to lighten the mood, you know? 'Cause it'd be all like, "Buuuh? Waaaaait a second! Cedric Diggory DIDN'T die?! He simply became a vampire and entered into a major movie franchise designed to encourage young girls that giving up their mortal soul to satisfy their overcharged adolescent urges is the only rational course of action?? OH! LOL!"
Yeah, I think that would have been a bit of fun, wouldn't it? Show Hazzer Potter that R-Pattz hasn't forgotten his grass roots since he got all UP in K-Stew's grill, right?
(NB, I'm not entirely sure that guy was meant to be a vampire...)
3) The guy they got to play Griphook was very good at doing ACTING. Very menacing. Nice to see a dwarf being used for something other than comedy effect.
4) The film made me cry. It's very rare I cry at the cinema (movies at home and episodes of Neighbours are a different story), so it must have been quite moving. I managed three highly dignified tears from my left eye, which rolled slowly and beautifully down my cheek.
Tear 1) The part where Lupin and Tonks lie side by side, dead, their hands barely touching.
Tear 2) Snape's memories. OH ALAN! If I'd been Lily Potter I totes would have gone for you! My favourite bit of the whole film was where Snape and Dumbledore are chewing the chat and Snape conjures his patronus and it's a doe, same as Lily's and Dumbledore says, "Lily?" and Snape replies, "Always." Whimper!
Tear 3) When Harry realises he's a whore, I mean horcrux, and heads for the forest but sees Ron and Hermione on the way and Hermione gives him a big crying cuddle and says she'll go with him. Waaaaah! Emma Watson did pretty well with that, imo.
I don't really have much more to say about it. If you're a fan, you SHOULD go and see it. If you're not, you should still go since the effects are pretty spectacular. I give it: 96g of Pick n Mix out of 100g of Pick n Mix.
Harry and his friends on set at the end when everything is happy again:
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