Right. Whose frickin' idea was it to make a movie entirely populated with spoilt chihuahuas? I'm talking about that Disney monstrosity soon to hit our screens: 'Beverly Hills Chihuahua'.
The WORST part is that The Cat Empire, one of my favourite bands in the whole wide world ever, have licensed their song 'Hello' to the film, which I just heard on the trailer. Why why WHY?!? Surely cracking the US market isn't worth that?
It reminds me of the time I heard Bic Runga's 'Sway' in the teen flick 'American Pie'. She was tongue-in-cheek when she referred to it one gig. As I recall, she said "I'm going to end with a song that you may have heard in that quality movie 'American Pie'. It's called 'Sway'..."- knowing full well that 'Sway' was a mega-hit years before the movie.
21 September, 2008
15 September, 2008
Hello Zia!
Holy crap, they've finally released The Mysterious Cities of Gold here on DVD dubbed in English!
Sir saw it at Borders while we were browsing yesterday. The worst part is that I've just found out that it has been out for more than a month here. How did I not hear about it?
I've been dropping large hints about Christmas to anyone who will listen.
Sir saw it at Borders while we were browsing yesterday. The worst part is that I've just found out that it has been out for more than a month here. How did I not hear about it?
I've been dropping large hints about Christmas to anyone who will listen.
14 September, 2008
Back to implacable
For some crazy reason the weather has whipped back to 'implacable', giving us wild winds and bursts of rain this morning. I found it difficult to sleep.
Last night I was walking around the city in short sleeves.
I blame climate change.
Last night I was walking around the city in short sleeves.
I blame climate change.
13 September, 2008
Word on the weather
Today, it is summer.
I don't care whether you consider early September 'summer', but if there ever was a day I could label the beginning of summer, it would be today.
Last Saturday, the best word to describe the weather was 'implacable'. The wind and heavy rain made the streets of Sydney a miserable place to be. It was my great misfortune to be forced to go out and contend with the elements when my commitments bid me outside.
Today, however, I stepped outside and the hot dry air immediately enveloped my skin. The pavement burned and I felt naked without sunscreen. I felt I should head to the beach instead of the polling booths for the local council elections. Summer, I thought, is here.
One surefire summer sign is a scent I can only really describe as 'strawberry ice cream'. Not the deluxe stuff you get in cardboard tubs, but the pink third of a neapolitan plastic offering. My parents have this growing in their front yard. I've not yet identified the exact plant because they have a bit of a flower jungle in their front patch, but the scent was always strongest in summer.
One year I thought I knew which plant it was. Ironically, the suspect died but the scent remained and I still don't know. Now I pass gardens on my way to and from work and I can smell it: strawberry summer.
I don't care whether you consider early September 'summer', but if there ever was a day I could label the beginning of summer, it would be today.
Last Saturday, the best word to describe the weather was 'implacable'. The wind and heavy rain made the streets of Sydney a miserable place to be. It was my great misfortune to be forced to go out and contend with the elements when my commitments bid me outside.
Today, however, I stepped outside and the hot dry air immediately enveloped my skin. The pavement burned and I felt naked without sunscreen. I felt I should head to the beach instead of the polling booths for the local council elections. Summer, I thought, is here.
One surefire summer sign is a scent I can only really describe as 'strawberry ice cream'. Not the deluxe stuff you get in cardboard tubs, but the pink third of a neapolitan plastic offering. My parents have this growing in their front yard. I've not yet identified the exact plant because they have a bit of a flower jungle in their front patch, but the scent was always strongest in summer.
One year I thought I knew which plant it was. Ironically, the suspect died but the scent remained and I still don't know. Now I pass gardens on my way to and from work and I can smell it: strawberry summer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)